Sneak (Swipe Series)

Hailey’s disappearance so soon after Logan’s, so soon, in turn, after Dane’s . . . that struck her as too strange to ignore.
    Grandma walked over and pressed the intercom on Lily’s bedroom wall, calling down to the kitchen where Mr. and Mrs. Langly still sat.
    “I’ll be taking a nap,” Grandma said. “Don’t bother me.” And Mr. Langly acknowledged that he was happy to oblige.
    But when Grandma turned from the intercom, it wasn’t to the bed that she walked. It was to the outside stairway door. She’d made up her mind.
    Grandma was sneaking out.
    4
    There was a room at the tip of the DOME Umbrella, above the central intelligence disk and above even the smaller floor of offices on top of that. It was small—spacious enough only for the most private of meetings—and empty, save for a single round table at its center. The only way in was through a spiraling staircase in the top section of the Umbrella’s spire, which Erin’s father was ascending now.
    He climbed alone to a small platform at the top of the stairs and swiped his Mark at a scanner. The platform rose up through a hatch, lifting Mr. Arbitor into the room above.
    One man sat at the table, looking over a few documents displayed on his tablescreen, paying no attention either to the 360-degree view of the distant New Chicago skyline and surrounding suburbs or to Mr. Arbitor as he approached and sat down.
    Director Michael Cheswick was the head of DOME’s entire Eyes & Ears Bureau west of the Mississippi River, and had been since its inception over ten years ago. This made him Mr. Arbitor’s boss’s boss’s boss. He stood six and a half feet tall, but couldn’t have weighed more than 140 pounds. His nose hung from his face like a long, slender beak, and a thick set of black bangs shadowed his face. To Mr. Arbitor, looking at him was a little like looking at a vulture with teeth.
    After a moment, Mr. Cheswick leaned back, adjusting his glasses, and spoke slowly to Mr. Arbitor.
    “I’ve read the reports,” he said. “But I wanted to hear it from you.”
    Mr. Arbitor cleared his throat. “Well,” he began. “First of all, I’d just like to say—we made real headway last night. Major strides toward the apprehension of Logan Langly and Peck and their gang of Dust.”
    “Is that right?” Mr. Cheswick said.
    “Johnson and I and our team downstairs came closer than we ever have to the full, definitive capture of—”
    “That’s twice, now, Charles, that this gang has evaded DOME. Twice. Teenagers. In one month.”
    Mr. Arbitor cleared his throat nervously. “A little more than one, actually.” He made a teeter-tottering motion with his hand. “Six weeks. Give or take.”
    Mr. Cheswick laughed, his chin down and his smile not visible to Mr. Arbitor. “Do you have any idea how this looks?” he asked. “I’m honestly curious. Do you have any sense at all of what Markless throughout New Chicago must be thinking? What Lamson must be thinking?”
    “Surely General Lamson won’t need to know about—”
    “Charles, you were brought here from Beacon because of the unique promise you showed in tracking down Markless.”
    “And I will make good on that promise, sir. I will—”
    “ Twice . One month .”
    “Sir, to be fair, we did manage to apprehend a known Markless organizer, Meredith Hayes—”
    “I didn’t want Meredith Hayes in my Center this morning, Charles—I wanted Peck . We’ve had Meredith here before—she refuses to speak to us, and you know it.”
    “Well, sir, yes, but we were hoping—”
    “Oh, you were hoping , were you? You were hoping ? Charles, from what I gather from this morning’s reports, we can’t even prove whether or not Meredith was aware of the Dust’s presence in that barn!”
    “I don’t buy that, sir.”
    “And who , in the name of Cylis, was the idiot who shot this woman’s husband? I want a name.”
    Mr. Arbitor stuttered for a moment.
    “Sloppy, Charles! This is sloppy, miserly work. Unacceptable. You couldn’t even track them by satellite once you had them in your sights! How is that possible?”
    “Sir, by the time we’d—”
    “Save it.” Michael sighed angrily. “It was a mistake bringing you out here. I can see that now.”
    “Mr. Cheswick, sir, please—”
    “You’re a family man, Charles. We knew that. To be away from your wife, watching over your daughter here alone . . . better men than you would be distracted by it.” He frowned. “This is our error. I