Fawkes held the picket line with such dedication that a handful of newsies decided to keep her company. Word spread of her manning a position outside the gates round the clock and more newsies joined her.

Despite Jack's absence, the strike seemed to be gaining momentum.

As the number of young people camping out in the square grew, charges for vagrancy and loitering were threatened, and occasionally cited.

Fawkes should have been scared. It was the kind of thing Jack had warned her about. She couldn't bring herself to yield her position. She wasn't just hanging around in protest. She was doing some pretty important surveillance work.

Jack was being housed in the circulation center. In the basement.

Fawkes had entertained the idea of finding him on his route to try to talk strategy with him, but the Delancey brothers acted as his bodyguards during the day, making sure he didn't stray from the path of righteousness.

After Jack sold his papes, he was escorted to the basement like a prisoner. He could rove the compound but only Weasel and the Delancey brothers handled the locks.

Fawkes's vigilance had a purpose. She planned to get Jack out of Pulitzer's clutches.

Breaking him out looked tricky, but not impossible. The timing had to be right. Once she did it, there'd be no going back. Fawkes could only do it when she was sure Jack had outlived his usefulness. That day was drawing close.

A fight with the Delancey brothers seemed to be the easiest way to get a set of keys. Fawkes wasn't concerned about that. They were dirty fighters, but she didn't expect to win. The fight was a distraction so they could be pickpocketed.

The tricky part was the compound itself.

Since they'd been camping out in the square, a flatfoot was stationed there at night to keep watch, and probably, to keep the peace.

Newsies, in their right mind, feared the cops. But there were more newsies in the square than the flatfoot could handle if they decided to rush him. He wouldn't be hard to overpower. They just had to make sure he didn't get to his whistle before he went down or else they'd be in a heap of trouble.

After a week, routines seemed set. The newsies were strengthening.

Pulitzer would realize soon that they weren't giving up, if he hadn't already. He'd realize Jack didn't have the power he'd originally anticipated. Maybe they would come after Fawkes to lean on Jack harder. Maybe they would just throw her in prison and call it a day. With her out of the picture, the cause would surely be lost.

Fawkes couldn't afford that. She'd worked too hard for this.

It was time to make her move.

A lean figure with a cowboy hat pulled low was leaning against a building on Jack's paper route. Tufts of red hair could be seen around her ears as Fawkes picked at her nails, waiting.

"I heard a rumor from the newsies that have since scabbed that you've got yourself a girlfriend over at that vaudeville joint." That was a Delancey speaking. They were approaching. "How would you feel if me and Morris went and introduced ourselves?"

Fawkes heard Jack chuckle in response. Proof to Fawkes that Spot was being foolish. The Delanceys were trying to get a rise out of Jack and failed. It would have worked on Spot because the guy was sweet on her. Jack wasn't.

"Go ahead," Jack told them.

They'd drawn close enough so that Fawkes could see the brothers look dumbly at each other. It was clear that wasn't the sort of reaction they'd expected. "You sure?" Morris was skeptical.

Oscar's brows were knitted together, "I seem to recall someone describing her with pale eyes and long legs."

Jack nodded, not paying either of them the time of day, "Sounds about right. Some might even accuse her of having the voice of an angel." Fawkes saw a grin steal across his face. He always was her biggest fan.

"You wouldn't have a problem with us finding out just how far those legs go?" Oscar pushed. "Those dresses leave a lot to the imagination."

"I promise you, she won't disappoint," Jack's voice was light, but there was an edge to it now.

Oscar grinned and nudged Morris, "So you already know?"

"If I know one thing, I know you boys won't get as far as you'd like. That girl's my sister, not my girlfriend," Jack corrected them. "Our familial resemblance lies in our fists."

The Delanceys looked at each other, confused.

This time, Fawkes was the one grinning. "It's important to keep company with those who can look after you as well as theirself," she spoke up, pushing up the brim on her hat to get a good look at them.

Jack's eyes narrowed. If they didn't have company, he would have scolded her. She'd lost her anonymity. She'd drawn attention to herself. She was identifiable now. She'd have to find a new way to hide in the crowd. He didn't know that it wouldn't matter after this.

The Delancey brothers were infamous for their lack of brains. They recognized the hat from Weasel's demonstration the other day but not the person under it. "You again?" Oscar nudged his brother and the pair split to flank her.

"I just couldn't stay away," Fawkes shrugged.

"You should have," Jack's voice was serious.

"Well, there's some things I needed…" she trailed off as Oscar drew level with her. She pushed off of the wall and stood tall.

Fawkes resettled the hat on her head so her vision wasn't obstructed when punches got thrown.

Oscar Delancey made eye contact and blinked repeatedly-like he didn't believe what he was seeing. Maybe these guys were smarter than folks gave them credit for.

The fact that he'd been rendered dumb gave Morris reason to pause behind her.

Oscar's eyes dropped to her feet. She was wearing cowboy boots, but the pants she was wearing, a faded wool, were too short in the legs. His gaze rose to just shy of her neck. "Were there some things you needed to get off your chest?"

Fawkes grinned at the bad joke.

She'd spent the past few weeks masquerading as a boy. The only ones who knew the truth were Racetrack and Jack, and that was because she knew them from before. Spot knew because he'd interacted with her before and after her haircut. Nobody suggested she might have been anything other than a boy until she'd gotten arrested. She wasn't around any of the guys long enough for them to notice. It wasn't their business, anyway. Selling papes was.

The newsies struggled with pronouns when they addressed her now, but she didn't correct them. She didn't care.

How had this guy picked it up immediately? She was skinny from a life of malnutrition, but her body was not without curves. Her voice was of an ambiguous timbre. Since she was from the west, she was considered wild by eastern standards. She bore no resemblance to the girls in this part of the country. She could hock papes and she could brawl with the best of the newsies. They had no reason to think she was anything other than a boy.

"You're smarter than folks give you credit for," Fawkes acknowledged. She waited half a beat before swinging from her left. It was her dominant side.

Her fist made contact with Oscar's cheek. His head twisted to the side.

She heard a sound behind her.

She'd forgotten about Morris.

Fawkes dove for Oscar, barely avoiding a blow to the back of her head. The two grappled on the ground while Morris tried to figure out what to do. He decided to send a kick in her direction.

It caught the girl in the gut and she relinquished her hold on Oscar. She tumbled away to give herself space to recover.

Oscar popped into a crouch wiping blood from a cut on his lip. Fawkes had gotten a few good blows in while they fought for control.

He grinned. His front teeth were smeared with blood, "I'm going to enjoy this."

Fawkes grinned back, "You're gonna have to wait."

She jumped to her feet and sprinted away.