The roof creaked under their weight. Shyla sat on the peak of a nearby house, Henry at her side. She had asked about the scratches on Henry’s hands when she had seen them earlier in the week, but he had just shrugged and said he fell. Now, he relayed the entire events of the altercation with Shaun that had happened in the early hours of Sunday morning. Shyla’s eyes grew wide. “Shaun knows?” she asked, shocked.
Henry nodded. “Harry’s trying to keep him quiet, but it’s making me worried. I’m not sure if he’ll tell anyone, but we need to be careful.”
“How’s about I go over there nice and early tomorrow morning and ask him nicely not to say anything?” Shyla proposed, smiling.
Henry grimaced. “I don’t know. He might get the wrong idea, especially after what he told Harry.”
“I’ll keep it light.” Said Shyla, resting her hand in his arm. “I promise not to give him the wrong idea.”
Henry casually tossed a small stone over the edge into the grass. “Please just tell him not to say anything,” he murmured. “Then get out of there.”
Shyla stood up and front flipped over the edge. Henry followed silently. Shyla jogged towards town. “We still have work to do.” She muttered, not turning around.
“No,” Henry argued. “We need to get some sleep. You haven’t slept properly in weeks.”
“I can handle it.” Muttered Shyla. “I’ll be ready for the hit on Liborio Fragale tomorrow.”
“Catching Joe Fragale won’t be the easiest.” Henry grabbed Shyla’s arm, dragging them both to a stop. “He’s surrounded by literally a hundred people.”
“The dock drop off is tomorrow.” Shyla turned to face him. “We need to be there, armed and hidden. We’re meeting the FBI tomorrow for weapons and briefing. We both know that already.”
“That’s why you need the sleep.” Henry said softly. “I don’t want to lose you because I’ve kept you out all night. Especially not over this.”
The sound of smashing glass broke into their argument. They both turned to find a petty thief crawling through the front window of a nearby house. Shyla ran towards the house, slightly off-balance due to the backpack she carried. Henry overtook her and pounced through the window. He landed on the thief and pinned him down. Shyla sprang through the window and wrenched the thief to his feet. She marched him back through the window, followed by Henry. “Explanation?” Henry demanded when they were further up the street.
“I’m a thief.” The man replied. Shyla gauged he was about twenty, with pasty skin and dark, greasy hair. “It’s what I do.”
Shyla hooked his foot and brought him to his knees. “Really?” she asked. “And who exactly do you work for?”
“No-one.” The man replied. “I work alone. I want nothing to do with Liborio Fragale.”
Shyla pulled out her phone and walked up the street. She made a quick call to the local police department on a number Master Wong had assured them was safe for the ninjas to use. Meanwhile, Henry pulled a length of rope from Shyla’s backpack and tied the man to the signpost on the corner. “Cops are on their way.” Shyla announced walking back towards them.
Henry and Shyla stepped back into the shadow of a nearby house as the police car rolled up. The officers got out and walked around to the man. They handcuffed him and shoved him into the car before driving away.