Chapter Text
It would have been the perfect night for a heist.
The puddles in the streets of Ketterdam reflect five shadows, each with their own trait, their own personality. This particular night on the second full moon brings out not only darkness, but thieves too. Like leeches crawling from the gutters, invading the streets, they come to roam one of the most criminal neighbourhoods in Kerch. The canals enclose the city and the smell of sea water, fish and sewers is unavoidable in Ketterdam. A pungent odour accompanied by the never-ending screech of seagulls makes it distasteful for the fainthearted.
Large drops of rain tapper on the roofs of houses, clattering down and sliding along the windowpanes. Somewhere in the distance a cat wails, unable to catch the running rats. Kaz breaks his reflection by stepping in a puddle and marches on feeling like a street rat himself, lurking in the shadows, unable to get caught.
He points his finger slicing it through the air - the light tap of his cane makes the group push forwards.
A shadow climbs up a roof, another picks a lock, a third slips inside. There is no room for hesitation and no excuse for it too. The mansion with red tulips painted on the front door is empty and abandoned, still the Crows work in silence, communicating only by gestures and ticks, developed over the many years of teamwork. The walls around them breath in synchrony, keeping them in a trance.
Delicate hands decorated with gloves are quicker than a blink - the second lock springs open exposing the living room. An air of wealth wafts through the door opening, as the furniture coats the dregs in glamour. A black piano hiding in the corner shines in the dark. The Crows exchange a quick smirk, already smelling the kruge awaiting them in the safe. The victory of crime lasts but for a second.
‘I sense another heartbeat.’
The walls stop breathing, as do the thieves. Silently they listen to the steady beating. The magic of theft disappears and replaces itself by adrenaline and danger. Danger; the drug they have all become addicted to. All eyes turn upon their leader whose face hasn’t changed expression since entering.
‘Van Eck left as did the rest of his entourage.’ He doesn’t deny the extra heartbeat in the room, but tries to deduct what is clearly there.
‘Do we know of other family members with acces to the house?’ Kaz asks without raising his voice.
‘Negative.’ Says Inej.
‘The heartbeat is steady. I don’t think they know we are here.’ Nina whispers.
The figure all in black turns to her, his hat crooked on his head: ‘You’re only caught if you can’t get away.’
‘Nina and Matthias, guard the doors, Inej.. ‘
‘On it.’ Without waiting for explanation she disappears like a ghost; her steps untraceable, leaving only the memory of her presence.
‘We carry on.’ Kaz says to his sharpshooter and limps forwards, depending fiercely on his cane. Behind him Jesper hesitates, not completely at ease with the drumming heartbeat hiding away.
‘Shouldn’t we eliminate the extra heart in the room first?’
‘Never make decisions out of fear, Jesper.’ The leather of his gloves creak as he wraps in tighter around his cane. ‘Only out of spite.’
He turns his head, watching over the high collar of his coat and notes Jespers hands already hovering over his guns. ‘If it comes to it, try not to miss.’
Jesper stands taller and tilts back his head. A sly smile paints his lips.
‘Would I ever boss?’
Back in the Crow Club, the place all plans get fabricated, Kaz learned all there was to know about the Van Eck mansion. Every opening, door and passageway checked and noted, no room for error. The lay-out printed in his brain comes to great use now they’re inside.
‘If my deductions are correct.’ Kaz watches out of the glass-paneled doors facing Geldcanal. ‘The safe will be in his sight, always.’
With confidence in his stride he turns around to view the painting hanging above the sofa. It’s a depiction of a meadow, too dull for his taste. He has an eye for art, especially the kind that’s worth kruge - this piece isn’t there to show off, it is a cover up.
Carefully he sets down his cane and climbs on the sofa. Jesper follows his actions as they lift the painting off the wall. It appears heavier than it looks.
Behind the frame, built into the wall is a round steel door, in the middle an intricate lock.
‘Bingo.’ Grins Jesper.
Kaz raises his eyebrow - not entirely comforted by the ease with which they’re floating through the heist. Jan Van Eck is not one to leave his money unattended. Paired with the extra heartbeat in the house, Kaz prepares himself for trouble.
Jesper jumps off the sofa, landing on the carpet with a thud. He lets Kaz work his magic and thinks of all the debts he gets to pay off once the money is in his possession. Another voice in his brain tells him to gamble his earnings, go all in - double his payment. After robbing one of the richest men in Ketterdam he deserves a night at the table. His cards will guard him through it.
After mere seconds of standing guard, thinking over his luck, his patience runs out. Climbing back onto the sofa he watches closely over the shoulder of Kaz. Just that instant the lock clicks and the concentration on Brekker’s face gets traded for confusion.
‘Boss?’
Kaz ignores him, the wheels in his brain making over hours. Too easy, he thinks.
Jesper takes out his guns, twirling them round his finger out of habit and puts on a show of preparing himself. He figures out the instability of the situation, the improbability of things turning this smoothly. His balance is slightly off caused by the height of the safe and the softness of the couch beneath his feet. Adjusting his stance he nods.
‘Be prepared for anything.’
Jesper puffs out a breath, craning his neck: ‘Show me the money.’
In slowmotion the door opens, the metal groaning in his hinges. Jesper can hardly hide the hammering in his chest as the door at lasts shows its contents.
He pales as his eyes widen: ‘What in the world..’
Inside the safe littered with piles of kruge and countless numbers of golden bars, sits a teenage boy. Cross legged, balancing coins upon his knees. The biggest problem isn’t the boy, but what’s attached to him. Wires hide underneath his shirt and the obvious bulge around his waist must be the detonator. The kid is wearing a bom. His innocent eyes shine brighter than the gold reflecting in the barrel of Jespers gun.
Saints.
Kaz turns stepping off the sofa to hide the fact he’s taken off guard, disliking it with every fiber of his being. He knew something was amiss.
‘Boss, we’ve got company.’ Nina whisper-shouts, her face appearing between the slits of the door.
‘So do we.’ He answers plainly, giving himself time to think. Abandoning the plan would leave a trace now they have been spotted. It would destroy all future plans of break in. Besides, Kaz Brekker is not one to run from danger.
‘Find a way to distract them, make sure they don’t see your face. I need five minutes.’
Nina huffs. ‘I can give you two.’
Meanwhile Jesper and the unfortunate boy have not found a reason to break away, as they stare at one another like dogs meeting for the first time.
‘Hello.’ The taller one finally says, eyes glued to the victim inside the safe. The younger one reddens in his cheeks, bites his bottom lip and averts his gaze.
‘What joke is this?’ Kaz interrupts.
He refuses to get back on the sofa and speaks from a distance. From here he is able to peer inside without standing on his toes. He rather prefers solid ground beneath his feet; his leg hurts him enough as it is.
Without moving a muscle the boy answers. ‘I am serving my purpose of protecting my fathers money.’
‘Father?’ Jesper repeats in surprise.
Kaz rests his free hand by his side, relaxing slightly. Everyone has a weak spot, even Jan van Eck. A secret son is all Kaz needs to know to figure out this is a child of big importance. To hide someone away all those years. Kaz almost smiles. There must be more to him than being a protector of money. This could get interesting.
‘Y-yes Wylan, that’s me. You must be Dirtyhands and you his minion.’ He nods to Jesper.
‘Minion? I’m more than that, I’m…’
‘Jesper shut up.’
‘Yes boss.’
‘What do know of this bomb around you?’ Kaz demands.
Wylan’s innocence vanishes at the question: ‘The best you’ll find in Kerch.’ He says. ‘Most bombs have a sense of logic to them; moving sensors, timers - you know the ones.’
Wylan moves only his mouth, the rest stays still as a statue. ‘This one however is a mystery. You could never tell by looking what kind of detonator I’ve used.’
‘Wait, you built it?’ Jesper sputters. The boy seems too pure and clean handed for a job as intricate as building bombs. He can’t imagine his delicate fingers creating something deadly.
‘Yes I built it while it was around me.’ Wylan meets their eyes without blinking.
‘If I take it off it explodes. If it leaves this safe it explodes, and worst of all, if my father returns and finds his money gone, he’ll make it explode.’
Kaz tightens his fingers: ‘If you don’t hurry up I will choose the last option boy.’
Wylan blinks and silently adds another coin to the pile on his knee. It wobbles as he watches Kaz.
‘I’ll sooner blow myself up than let that happen.’
Jesper closes his eyes when he sees Wylan pick up another coin, readying himself to place it above the other. If the tower on his knee topples over, it may cause enough movement to set the bomb off. Jesper doesn’t how sensitive the bomb is, or if it reacts to movement at all, but sensing Wylan’s stillness, he guesses the worst. The boy is playing Kaz. Taunting him.
A true son of his father.
‘I’m the only one with knowledge to turn it off and I will do so on one condition.’ His words sound practised and polished, Jesper notes. He is comforted by the quiver in his voice; betraying the fright they all feel.
Steadfast he continues. ‘I will help you steal this money and everything my father owns in return for a place in your Crow club.’ When Kaz doesn’t immediately replies, he adds: ‘You need someone with my proficiency.’
Kaz turns around, outside the rain pushes harder through the wind, coating the window in dripping lines. Hiring a Crow takes years, countless background checks, earned respect and loyalty until one is remotely close to being made a member. This is Jan’s son - he has every motive to betray him, to break him and deceive him.
Still, it was his father that threatened to blow him to pieces.
Saints.
‘Boss we haven’t got long.’
Stamping his cane on the ground he agrees. ‘Deal. But betray me and I’ll put you in something worse than this bomb.’
Wylan grins and gets to work. Jesper, so caught up in the danger of the bomb in front of him, feels faint with nerves. The way Wylan twists wires and pulls out chords has him worried.
‘Inej, how long?’
Suddenly she’s there, knife in hand. ‘Forty seconds tops. Matthias and Nina can’t hold much longer.’
‘Help us load in.’ He throws a bag in her direction which she catches with ease.
Wylan jumps out of his prison, bomb in hand.
‘You can breath now.’ He says to Jesper, who lets out an exaggerated breath of air. Standing next to him Jesper smirks at his height - or the lack of it. He just about reaches his shoulders, his floppy hair the only thing to add some length.
Wylan doesn’t notice - or ignores the way Jesper eyes him. So proud he feels being a part of a club he knows practically nothing about. Something about breaking the rules and going against the grain is putting him in good spirits. Avenging his father is the first step to his contentment.
‘Jesper hurry up.‘ Kaz says watching the window. The three figures outside are nearing the door, Van Eck among them. Deep in conversation the owner knows nothing of what’s happening indoors.
With the help of another pair of hands, the Crows finish quickly and hail the bags over their shoulders. The sum is heavy and weighs them down, but the knowledge that its theirs puts a spring in their step. Powered by adrenaline they push through and run out the back entrance.
Their leader limps forwards, the last one inside and rummages through his coat. There he finds five black feathers - one for each of his Crows. Soft in his darkened gloves he places them next to the dismembered bomb in the empty safe. He hurries to close the safe and places the painting back where it belongs, covering their tracks. As much as he’d like to stay and watch the face of Jan Van Eck - his son replaced by feathers, Kaz quickly follows the group out, feeling satisfied with their work. Behind him he hears the lock in the door. Just in time.