Chương 21: Chapter 19 — Bad Bunny Planning

The Hop Gang met three miles east of the Thornwood in a clearing their leader, Boss Clover, had designated as Operational Headquarters, which was what he called it, and which everyone else called the clearing with the big rock, because there was a clearing with a big rock, and that was where they met. There were five of them. Boss Clover occupied the big rock, which he stood on for authority and needed for height.

He was a grey rabbit, compact and weathered, with a scar that ran from his left ear down through a leather eye patch to the corner of his jaw. The scar through the eye patch was genuine, earned in circumstances he described differently depending on the audience. He pushed his left ear back. It flopped immediately. He pushed it back again, scanned the clearing with his one good eye, and, with a sigh, he left the ear where it landed.

He wore a vest covered in pockets, each containing something specific, and he had the expression of someone who had made many plans in his life and intended to make several more before he was finished. To his left stood Mole and Biscuit, two brown rabbits of roughly identical size who had been part of the gang long enough that nobody could remember which one had joined first, including them. They stood with their arms crossed, watching Boss Clover with the professional attention of professionals.

To his right stood Patch. Patch was a white rabbit who had lost most of one ear to something she didn't discuss and had replaced it with a leather prosthetic that matched nothing she was wearing, but which she maintained with considerable pride. She was the gang's second in command, a position she had held for three years through the simple method of being right more often than anyone else and saying so less. When Boss Clover had a plan that needed adjusting, Patch was the one who did the adjusting.

When a job went sideways, it was Patch who found the exit. She performed the role of second in command by saying very little and making it feel deliberate. At the edge of the clearing, slightly apart from the others, stood Twitch. Twitch was a young rabbit, sandy-colored, with both ears fully intact and functional, which gave him a permanent expression of someone receiving too much information from too many directions at once. He was the gang's lookout.

He had performed the job with considerable dedication for six months. It suited him. He noticed things. He noticed things nobody asked him to notice, things that weren't in any job description but that turned out to matter. He had learned early in his career that noticing things was useful and reporting them was occasionally unpopular.

Lately, the job had involved sitting in trees at the edge of the advanced path, watching a very slow-moving grey figure and a small thing on its shoulder move through the Thornwood and back again. He was currently flipping a switchblade open and closed in his left paw with the unconscious rhythm of someone who had never quite learned to be still. Click. Click. Click. Boss Clover looked at him. Twitch caught the look and pocketed the knife.

"Lookey here," said Boss Clover, in the voice he used for planning.

"We got ourselves a sitchyation, see. A beautiful sitchyation. Ya ya." He produced a folded piece of paper from one of his vest pockets and opened it on the rock. It was a sketch, rough but detailed, of a large, robed figure with something small on its shoulder and what appeared to be a sword at its side.

"The ceremony," said Mole. Or Biscuit.

"The ceremony," confirmed Boss Clover.

"Big robed feller. Sword. Right there in the palace courtyard for the whole kingdom to see, see. Sword of prophecy, they're calling it. One thousand years old, ya. Worth more than everything any of us has ever touched. And where is it now?"

"Palace vault," said Patch.

"That's what they want you to think, see." Boss Clover tapped the sketch with one claw.

"But the feller who was holding it at that ceremony is in a little outbuilding at the edge of the Thornwood with one lock on the door. One lock. Ya ya." Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. He let that sit.

"He doesn't actually have the sword," said Twitch. Everyone looked at him.

"At the ceremony," said Twitch.

"He dropped the first sword — the legendary one. The small thing on his shoulder cast a couple of pink flashy clouds over the big feller's hand — pink smoke, glitter, little lightning — and then the old priest made a big cloud that covered the whole platform. By the time it cleared, the big feller had a different sword. It was just plain iron. I was watching from my professional lookout position, and I saw it clearly. The legendary sword got carried back inside by two palace guards on a velvet cushion."

Boss Clover regarded Twitch with the patient expression of someone who had long been managing inconvenient observations.

"Lookey here," said Boss Clover.

"The feller was holding a sword at the end of the ceremony, see. Ya?"

"A different sword," said Twitch.

"A sword," said Boss Clover.

"Ya ya." He turned back to the sketch.

"Now. The path—""It's plain iron," said Twitch.

"Worth maybe four gold pieces. Five if the buyer is generous."

"Twitch."

"Ya, boss."

"After." Twitch's paw found the switchblade. Click.

"One more thing," said Twitch. Click.

"There's something else," said Twitch.

"About the big feller."

"Ya?" said Boss Clover.

"He moves wrong. And his eyes glow... at least I think it is eyes." Twitch searched for the right words, which was not something he usually had to search for. The words were usually right there, waiting, arriving faster than he could use them. These exact words were harder to find.

"Like he's got somewhere to be, see, but he forgot where. And he doesn't look at things right. Things move near him, and he looks at them like — " Another pause.

"Like he's deciding."

"Deciding what," said Patch.

"Whether they're interesting," said Twitch.

"Everything. Beetles. Butterflies. Goblins. All the same look, ya. Like nothing's more important than anything else." He paused.

"And he smells extremely bad."

"We're not smelling him, we're robbing him," said Boss Clover.

"The smell is very strong," said Twitch.

"Operationally speaking. You'll notice it."

"We'll notice it when we notice it," said Boss Clover.

"What we're noticing now is the plan, see." He turned back to the sketch.

"The path," said Boss Clover.

"He takes it every morning. At the same time. Same direction. Into the Thornwood, out before dark. Regular as the weather, ya. We hit him on the way back when the light is going." He tapped the route marked on the sketch.

"Five of us on the path. He's been hunting all day. He'll be tired. We come in fast from three directions, see, and it's done before anything happens."

"He took three goblins in two seconds," said Twitch. The clearing was quiet. Mole and Biscuit uncrossed their arms. Then crossed them again. Then looked at each other with the expression of people who had just been given information they were not entirely sure what to do with. Patch looked at the sketch on the rock. At the robed figure. She looked at it for a moment longer than she had looked at any sketch before.

"Three," she said.

"Two seconds," said Twitch.

"Organized?" said Patch.

"Spreading formation," said Twitch.

"Real weapons. They'd worked together before." Patch looked at the sketch again. Boss Clover cleared his throat.

"The lookout," said Patch slowly, "has been thorough."

"I do my job," said Twitch, with some dignity.

"I watch. I notice things. That is what a lookout does. And what I noticed is that three organized goblins with weapons hit him from three directions at once, and it took two seconds." He paused.

"That's why I'm bringing it up now, before the plan is finalized, rather than on the path when we're already committed." Boss Clover looked at Twitch for a long moment. Then he reached into a vest pocket and produced a second piece of paper. This one was a letter, short, with a signature at the bottom that he didn't show anyone.

"That," said Boss Clover, "is why I reached out to an associate, see. Someone who provides a certain kind of help for a certain kind of job. He'll be ready by day three."

"What kind of associate," said Twitch.

"The large kind," said Boss Clover.

"How large?" said Twitch. Boss Clover returned the letter to his pocket. He straightened on the rock. He pushed his flopping ear back, and it flopped again immediately, and he left it.

"Very large, see," said Boss Clover.

"Ya ya." Mole and Biscuit looked at each other.

"How do you know someone very large?" said Mole. Or Biscuit.

"I know people," said Boss Clover.

"Very large people," said Biscuit. Or Mole.

"The job calls for it," said Boss Clover.

"We assess the sitchyation. We use the right tools. That is how professional operations work, see." Patch had not said anything. She was still looking at the sketch.

"The payment," said Patch.

"Handled," said Boss Clover.

"How," said Patch.

"After," said Boss Clover. Twitch looked at the sketch on the rock. At the large, robed figure. At the small thing on the shoulder. At the route marked between the Thornwood and the outbuilding, where one lock stood between the Hop Gang and whatever the big feller had on him. His paw found the switchblade. Click. Open. He thought about the way the big feller had looked at those goblins. Click. Closed. He thought about the smell.

"Three days," said Boss Clover.

"We watch. We learn. We move on the third night." He looked at each of them in turn.

"Any questions?" Twitch had several.

"After," said Boss Clover. Twitch pocketed the knife.