New York was not content to be quiet at night. Light blazed from windows of homes and drunkards wandered aimlessly on the sidewalk. The roads were qempty except for the Ford creeping through the city and the Plymouth that quietly followed. The Plymouth belonged to David, but it was Katherine white-knuckling the wheel, eyes locked on the bumper of Conlon's car. David sulked beside her in the passenger's seat. "Why aren't I driving my own car?"

"Because Conlon doesn't trust you yet," Katherine answered shortly. Conlon didn't fully trust her, yet, either, but he trusted her and Jack together even less, which was why he'd taken Jack in his own car and stationed Race in the backseat of David's.

Race clapped Davey on the shoulder, forcing David to hold back his flinch. "But I trust ya. Anyone who's helpin' us out is good as gold."

They pulled into a dark, narrow alleyway overflowing with trash. She turned off the car and the three of them squeezed out, migrating to the trunk of Conlon's Ford. Conlon and Jack were already digging through their supplies.

"The Refuge ain't far," Conlon said as he handed Race a length of rope. "Detective, I's wonderin' if you an' ya pal should stay wit' the cars."

Her brow furrowed. "What for?"

"The three o' us know the Refuge," he explained, gesturing between himself, Race, and Jack. "You two don't. If we's practical, you's best with the car."

David's hand was already on Katherine's shoulder, intent on guiding her back, but Jack said loyally, "She got us this far. We could always use mo' sets of eyes."

Race glanced between Jack and Conlon and then said, "Do ya really want either o' them drivin' ya car, boss?"

Conlon heaved a sigh. "Ya right, Higgins. C'mon."

They set on their way, picking through alleys and hopping fences to avoid the main road. They were weaving towards a four-story monolith of a building that stuck out like a sore thumb among run-down homes and derelict shops. It lorded over the other buildings in the slum and oozed authority.

"There it is," said Jack, a quiver in his voice. "The Refuge."

Katherine had counted it as a lucky break when Race told her Snyder didn't employ any guards, but now she saw why. The Refuge itself was intimidating enough to ward off rescuers. What must it look like from the inside?

The fellowship made their way to a set of stairs sunken into the ground that led to the cellar door. Katherine climbed down and started picking the lock, which was met by an impressed murmur ran through the onlookers.

"We were nine when she started bending her hairpins," said David proudly. "Your mother wasn't happy with you, remember?"

"Not in the least." The lock popped open with a satisfying click. "Let's roll."

"Backmost window, all right?" Jack reminded, reaching to adjust the coil of rope over Race's shoulder. "Tie it to somethin' sturdy."

"I know what I'm doin'." With a wry grin, Race crept into the cellar and left the others to wait. They waited in tense silence, watching the windows with eagle eyes.

Katherine gave it thirty more seconds and then headed for the cellar. They could bust kids out of the Refuge, but Snyder could just find more kids and keep his pockets filled. This might win them the battle, but they'd lose the war.

Of course, just getting the others to go along with the plan was a battle itself. David's nay vote was adamant, but the others hadn't taken very long to cajole. The three of them were deeply caring people and protective of their own, and this little add-on to their plan would remove the threatening presence those kids needed protection from.

Katherine was halfway through the cellar when she felt a hand on her arm. She whirled around, ready to clock whoever grabbed her, until Jack's voice said, "It's jus' me!"

"Christ!" She pulled her arm out of Jack's grasp. "Don't scare me like that! Why aren't you out there with the others?"

"It just occurred t' me tha' ya don't know where Snyder's office is," he whispered. "We didn't think 'bout that." They hadn't. Katherine had volunteered for this mission because she was the most expendable. Jack and Conlon had their operation, and David was the reporter. If something happened to her, he could still spread the word about Snyder and his crimes.

Before she could reply, another set of footsteps hurried towards them. Katherine shone her flashlight towards the cellar door and caught David in its beam.

"David Mayer Jacobs, what are you doing here?"

"You think I'm letting you go on your own?" he snapped. "Let's get going. Lead the way, Jack."

Katherine was stunned by David's sudden commanding air, and apparently, so was Jack. "Fine. Come wit' me."

He led them through the cellar, up another set of stairs, and through another door. The stench of rotting food billowed towards them as soon as Jack opened the door. They were in what once might have been a kitchen. Filthy dishes, most of them cracked or chipped, were stacked everywhere except in the sink. A rat squeaked and scampered uncomfortably close to her, causing her to jump.

Jack walked through without flinching. "Ya should see where they keep the boys."

She and David followed him out of the kitchen to a hallway with a staircase. A door, probably the entrance to the Refuge, stood at the other end. Jack led them to a door halfway through and pressed his ear to it.

"Snyder sleeps in the room off this one," Jack whispered as Katherine fished out her lockpicks again. "Quiet as ya can."

She nodded and began picking the lock as silently as she could manage. With Jack twitching at every sound, which included another rat or two, it was a miracle she could get anywhere with it, but the lock gave and she slowly pushed open the door to Snyder's office.

It wasn't the den of evil Jack had led her to believe it was: it had a desk, a chair, a bookcase, and a few filing cabinets. The standard stuff. The trio crept inside and pulled out their flashlights.

"Find his ledger," said Katherine. "We'll be able to prove he's laundering money with that."

They set out to search, carefully and quietly combing the office. Katherine went to the bookcase in the corner while David took the desk and Jack the first filing cabinet. She doubted his book of numbers would be in his library, but it didn't hurt to check. Snyder had books on law at the local, state, and national levels, history of crime, politics…he was well-read, that was for sure. How could someone who kept a library this intelligent be such a brute?

She turned and found Jack pulling out files and plopping them onto the desk. "What are you doing?" she hissed, drawing closer to him.

"Gettin' us outta the system." He tossed another file onto the desk: the name in the tab was Francis Sullivan.

Curious, David reached for one of the files and opened it up, his eyes widening as he read. "They talk about kids like this?" he asked. " 'High risk, repeat offender. Extended detention recommended.' Who talks about children like this?"

Jack shook his head. "Anyone who don't think these kids is kids. If we don't got parents, we's rats."

A weight settled in Katherine's heart, and she could tell by David's expression that he was feeling the same pressure. Their parents had given them everything they could and protected them from harsh reality. Jack and other kids had never had that luxury.

She turned back to the bookcase and found one smaller book on the bottom shelf, hidden between two massive atlases. She bent down, pulled it out, and opened it on her lap. Numbers and dates were scrawled on the pages.

"I found it!"

"Ya did?"

"Bring it here!"

Katherine rushed to Snyder's desk and spread the ledger open. Jack and David crowded around her and all three scanned the numbers, doing the calculations in their heads. They all turned to each other with big smiles as they came to the same realization: the numbers didn't add up.

"Perfect." Jack grinned at Katherine as David closed the book and tucked it under his arm. "He ain't getting away with this."

Suddenly from above, they heard a muffled "No!" followed by thumps down the stairs outside. The three raced out and discovered a young man with straw-colored hair booking it downstairs, sporting a black eye and a leg warped by polio.

A sob tore from Jack's throat. "Crutchie!"

"Jack!"

Jack hurtled to the stairs as Charlie Morris stumbled down them, nearly toppling to the floor in his rush if his brother hadn't caught him. Charlie flung his arms around Jack, both of them trembling with relief.

"I saw ya at the Galleon," said Charlie, "an' then that kid up there was sayin' you was here, but he was at Spot's an' I thought he was jus' trickin' me again—hey, uh, ya mind takin' it easy?"

"'Course." Jack loosened his hold on Charlie with a wet smile, which wavered as he took in his brother's condition. "He an' Spot are helpin' us bust ya out, though. Things are smooth, 'cept you an' I is gonna hafta talk 'bout what happens while I'm with Spot in back."

Charlie frowned and glanced around, looking to the others for his escape. "Who're these–"

His eyes suddenly widened and he froze, staring at something just above her head. A second later, Katherine noticed a pool of warm light on the floor. Another second later, and she felt the cold, steely barrel of a gun against her temple and a meaty hand on her shoulder.

A voice hoarse with sleep said, "Freeze or the girl dies."

Jack and David whirled around. David's face was pale and Jack's was cast into a deep, bitter scowl. "Snyder the spider."

"And Cowboy Jack, with a merry band of misfits," Snyder sneered from behind her. His voice was gruff with sleep, but he still managed to sound like complete and utter slime. "Really is my lucky day. Got the set." Katherine could hear the grin on Snyder's face, and it sent a chill down her spine. "And I'm turning you both in."

David's face hardened into determination. This was why he'd allied with them: to protect his friend from a fate like this. In Jack she saw the same kind of determination, his shoulders set and his feet planted. You idiot! she thought, quelling the urge to slap him out of this. She was an expendable detective to him, and Jack already had his brother and the ledger that would burn Snyder down. He had everything he needed, but he wasn't running.

If he was going to be that stupid and sentimental—well, she'd have to do the exact same thing for him.

She spun on her heel, her arm flying out and pinning Snyder's to the doorframe, which gave Katherine the opportunity to reach for his gun—

A straw-haired blur ran past her and flung itself at Snyder, locking his arms around his neck and shoving his knee into Snyder's stomach. Snyder doubled over with an oof, and then yanked his arm from the door as he retreated backwards into the office, dragging Charlie with him.

Charlie clung to him fiercely and the other three followed. Jack tugged his brother away while Katherine and David fought with Snyder, who made up for being outnumbered with his size and strength. They struggled in the glow of Snyder's oil lamp perched on the edge of his desk.

"Give me that!" Snyder and David fought over the ledger in David's arms, with Snyder easily tossing Katherine away from him with an almighty push. She stumbled back into the desk, her hip smarting where she met the edge, and noticed Jack dragging his brother back to the door. Good.

But then she turned back to the struggle between David and Snyder, and watched time slow down as the warden lifted his gun again and aim it at her friend.

She snatched the lamp from the desk, raced across the room, and smashed it over Snyder's head.

Snyder crumpled to the floor, dazed, the gun clattering out of his hand. Blood trickled from his temple. David was staring at her with eyes as round as saucers. Jack was staring, too, with Charlie hanging onto him. Rage was still coursing through Charlie, and he eyed the gun by the warden's hand, his own clenching into fists. His inability to walk without a crutch was the only thing stopping him from crossing the room to grab the gun and finish the job.

Katherine picked up the gun and leveled it at Snyder. "Jack, get your brother and the ledger out of here. David, get the rest of the kids moving."

Jack turned at once and helped Charlie out the door. David spared her a once-over and then followed them out. A minute later, the Refuge was filled with thundering footsteps and victorious shouts as kids raced out the front door and into the night, thrilled to be free.

Their joy made Snyder stir, awaking with a deep frown. "What's goin' on?"

Katherine bit back a smile. "We're restoring justice."

Minutes passed while the prisoners evacuated, and all Snyder could do was growl and grumble while she held him hostage. She held back every desire to get cocky and vindictive, though the call was strong. These kids deserved better than her getting careless.

"Detective." Jack appeared in the doorway alone, a relieved smile on his face. "Everyone's out. The place is empty."

He came in, his smile turning to a scowl as he lay his eyes on Snyder, bloody and crumpled. "How's it feel, Spider?" Jack jeered. "What's it like watchin' ya web fall apart?"

Snyder said nothing and only glared up at Jack, lip curling. Jack continued, "You ain't never gonna hurt no one again. To think I wasted so much time bein' afraid o' you, an' all I ever had to do was call up Medda's detective."

Jack smiled wryly at her, but it faded quickly and he looked back at Snyder. "Detective, gimme the gun."

The warmth in her heart chilled in an instant. "Why, Jack?"

He swallowed hard. "I overheard what ya said before. I'm aimin' to restore justice."

"Bah!" Snyder spit at their feet. "You call murdering me in cold blood justice? This is an execution."

Jack rounded on him. "Don't talk t' me 'bout cold blood," he hissed. "I watched ya beat kids an' let us starve without blinkin' an eye. This is what ya deserve."

"Jack." Katherine turned to him. "If we kill him now, he'll never stand trial or face the consequences of what he's done."

"How can you still trust the folks up top?" he shot back. "After what they did t' ya?"

She stopped short. How could she trust the justice system? After piecing together the mayor's embezzlement and losing her job and her credibility because of it, she had seen how easy it was for the big guys to get away while others suffered for it.

But this was different. This was just as important, but different.

"We have the ledger, she replied. "We have ironclad proof. No one can sweep that under the rug."

He stared at her for a long moment, his jaw tight and his eyes hard. She knew very well she was asking him to trust a system that wronged him time and time again, but this ensured that men like Snyder never siphoned away money or got anywhere near children. This would make crimes like his impossible.

But she also knew that he wasn't ready to trust her yet, so she told him what he wanted to hear. "Killing him is his easy way out. He deserves to suffer."

His shoulders squared. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Ya right."

Suddenly Snyder sprang up from the wall and bore down on Jack, grabbing for the gun. Jack yelled—and fired.

Katherine thought the gunshot might be muffled since the barrel was pressed to Snyder's torso, but it cracked clear through the room, rattling her skull. They all stared at each other, dazed, as Snyder wavered on his feet and then collapsed again, slumping back against the wall. He wheezed once, twice, three times, and then was still.

Jack was shaking, but his grip on the gun was iron, the tendons of his hand popping out against his skin. "I can't believe it. He's gone. I killed him."

"It was self-defense." Her heart thudded and her mind raced. "Jack, give me the gun."

He handed it over to her without a word, his resolve buckling the moment his hand was empty. As Katherine made quick work of emptying the chamber of the rest of the bullets, he wandered to the desk and sat down, his eyes wide and his face pale.

She dropped the bullets into her coat pocket and raced over to the desk, searching frantically through the drawers. She snatched up a box of matches and then rounded the desk again, grabbing the garbage can as she went to Snyder's side. She emptied the can over him, like scattering kindling around a campfire.

She pulled a match out and put it to the rough patch alongside the box. "Wait."

Jack was beside her again, with a little more color in his face. His hand didn't shake as he held it out. "Let me."

She wordlessly handed over box and match. Jack struck the match and held it up, staring down at Snyder. "See you in hell."

He tossed the match onto the pyre. The flame caught quickly, helped along by the spilled oil from the lamp, and soon Snyder was caught in a healthy blaze that crept across the floor and up the walls. He would take the Refuge down with him.

"Jack," said Katherine. She tugged on his arm, but he didn't budge. He wouldn't move, she sensed; he would destroy himself to watch his former captor turn to ash once and for all.

No longer was he the fearful artist nor worried brother; he wasn't even a victim. He was a survivor and a savior, and he feared nothing. "I wanna watch him burn," he said through gritted teeth.

But if they didn't get moving, they would be three charred bodies indistinguishable from each other. They would end up just like Snyder.

So she busted out the magic words. "Come on, Jack. Crutchie's waiting."

That was all it took. At once Jack grabbed her hand and went for the door, picking up speed as they ran for the kitchens. They all but dove into the basement and clambered outside to where Charlie, David, Conlon, and Race stared at the flames steadily consuming the Refuge from the window of Snyder's office, creeping up to the second floor. Race's fists were clenched at his side. Conlon's Adam's apple bobbed painfully as he said, "You'll never hurt no one again, spider."

David said, "We should get out of here before the firetrucks come."

The six jumped into action and started running, Charlie keeping up surprisingly well with them. They bolted down the street, forgoing their stealthy fence-hopping route for the virtue of speed. Conlon and Race went for their Ford, and Katherine tossed David the keys as they piled into the Plymouth with Jack and Charlie in the back. As soon as Charlie's door was closed, David peeled out of the alley and sped away.

Charlie leaned on Jack's shoulder, exhausted. They'd all been through hell, but he had borne the brunt of the suffering. "What's that?" Charlie asked, nodding at the ledger that David had handed off to Katherine in exchange for the keys."

"His accounts," answered Jack. "All his stealin's in there."

"This is proof he abused his power and stole state funds," Katherine added. "If folks take a look at this, they'll see how he got away with it and make laws that'll stop others from doing the same."

Crutchie's face softened. "So no one else'll do this?"

"No." Katherine closed her eyes. "It's over."

AN: But wait! Is there another chapter? Check it out!