Just like the Griever's Hole, the dead men hung by hooks, the Rat Man, the Cranks and the brick walls, Minho had hopes that Frankie's death was just another illusion. As much as he tried to distance himself from disappointment, this was one thing he...
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THE PLAN WAS rolling.
Marc led Jason, Stephen, and Reggie to scour the target first. They left earlier to see the remnants of the party, or if the party was still on the go, or if Thomas and Brenda were carried someplace else.
The other ten made sure that their weapons were all sharp, lethal, and evenly distributed. Also that they had enough supply of water for at least another couple of days. Which reminded everyone that they only had a week left to reach the safe haven in time.
Once all was packed and they were fully prepared, they put on their backpacks and followed Frypan to his hideout yesterday, where the two divided groups would meet and finalize their invading plan.
Jorge helped with the laying low thing while Minho just shuffled along. Seeing how he followed Frypan and Jorge's instruction obediently gave Frankie an uneasy feeling. Where was that confidence of his that she adored so much?
"Found them," Marc said with his signature huge, crooked grin. "A shack, a few blocks from here. Both are knocked out, and there are three people in charge. All male. A few Cranks are standing guard in front of the door. Steve said he saw some on the second floor."
"Alright," Jorge nodded, "How many doors?"
"One door, lots of windows."
"Okay. Now choose three guys."
Reggie cocked his head sideways, "For...?"
"Just choose," Jorge barked.
"Um... I can—"
"No, not from the four of you."
"Okay..." Marc halted in hesitation, "Anyone? Volunteer?"
Nobody said a word while everybody exchanged questioning looks with each other.
Frankie frowned when Minho didn't come forward.
Was this because of the signs? Was this his form of bitter and reluctant submission to the given status? An act of pride, from being demolished from his place, or of spite?
Well, It must had been all of the above.
"Minho," Newt said, loud enough for Marc to hear. That caught his attention, alright. He literally snapped his neck when he turned his head to face his best friend.
"What?" He frowned, "Why?"
"Insecurity doesn't suit you, shuckface," Frankie muttered only for them to hear.
Newt looked at her and winked, grateful for the support.
Minho scoffed at them (foremostly, since he was supposed to be mad at Frankie for ignoring his super long and heartfelt speech last night), but a satisfied smirk appeared unconsciously on his face.
"Minho, Frankie, and... Joey?" Marc said questioningly.
Jorge frowned, "Joey? Which one—"
"Uh, here," Joey raised his hand reluctantly.
Joey was a small, agile boy who used to work under Zart. He used to climb trees and harvest the higher fruits, unlike the Trackhoe Keeper with his big body, strong arms, shovels, and mounts of dirt.
"He's quick. Minho and Frankie can take the three guys, while he release the prisoners from whatever's binding them. That's what you're planning to do, right?"
Jorge nodded approvingly.
"Good plan, muchacho. Okay, then. We'll take the Cranks downstairs first, then we get in through the second floor window from all four directions. You, four," Jorge pointed towards the four spies, "Each lead one side of the building. You know it better than anyone else around.
"Whatever happened, take out as much as you can, preferably without getting bitten, while you cover for Minho, Frances, and Joey. You three, get the capturers and save them. Voila!"
Reggie fake yawned, "This is too much. Ice queen and I can take the Cranks on our own."
Jorge raised his arm warningly, "If anyone see you acting like a duo, people might put two and two together, and you'll be hunted by the whole city."
"What are you talking about, old man?"
"You killing Barkley. An entire compound. Words are out now. You, hermano, and the girl, are in the wanted list."
Minho frowned. That was why he wasn't allowed to help when they were battling Barkley's army?
"They only heard of you two, so as long as you stick with us, you're fine."
He heard Reggie grumbling under his breath 'now I can never run away' before leaving to exchange hushed conversation with Frances.
"Get your gears up!" Jorge instructed, "We're coming in now."
〰️
THANKFULLY, THE SHACK where Thomas and Brenda were held was quite remote. Perhaps the Cranks didn't want to attract attention, with the kidnapping people thing.
The lookouts were taken down quite easily. There were only two, guarding the door. Marc and Jason casually asked for direction, punched them until they were properly passed out, and they moved on to climb up onto the second floor.
Easier said than done.
"Sst!" Stephen hissed, "There's no grip, and we make too much noise."
Marc looked around, then pointed up, "Go to the neighboring buildings. We can jump in from their second floors."
Everyone nodded and proceeded to their own station stealthily.
Minho and Newt were in Stephen's group. They merged with Reggie's, and went up the abandoned building on the shack's left. It was probably someone's garage. A blue, rusty convertible car was sitting majestically in the middle, with tools and devices placed neatly around it in boxes, yellow tape marks, and drawers.
Nobody was in there.
Stephen opened the window and hopped onto the sill carefully, "Hold me."
With his ankles held in place by two Gladers, he reached forward, over the six-feet gap, and pushed the shack's window open slowly with the tip of his knife. The slow buzzing of chatters immediately filled the air, and they knew that they had quite a lot of company.
"I'll go first," Reggie said.
He did the jump like he was flying, and immediately landed on the other side of the drawn curtain. Minho heard him shouted, "Hello, world! You are hereby presented with my holy presence, so holy you're gonna die—"
He watched Doug jumped in next, and the immediate sound of gunshot nearly made his knees went weak.
"Come on!" Doug called them over.
Newt almost fell down two stories when he fumbled with his feet. It was very fortunate that Stephen was agile enough to catch him in time.
Boys after boys poured in, and finally it was Minho's turn.
He landed on the sill, then jumped onto the creaky, wooden floor through the disgustingly dusty curtain.
