The New York Halifax League

Sidney heard his door open and his body tensed. Shooting straight up in bed, his bleary eyes cleared themselves.

“Relax,” it was Bianca, probably rolling her eyes at him. “It’s just me. Taylor has some fancy projector set up in the living room and he says he’s got some information ready for us.”

“Already?” Sidney knew the young man was fast, but that was impressive.

“Fifteen slides worth of it,” she nodded, throwing her hair up and into one of those messy buns that every girl seemed to know how to do. Adjusting her glasses, she turned to the door, “I’m making breakfast. DZ told his cook to get lost for a few days.”

DZ? She was already in on nicknames? How long had he slept?

Sidney righted himself fully and debated getting dressed. Bianca had obviously still been in her pajamas – polka dot pants, plain tshirt, and thick camp socks. He held up a pair of jeans.

Marchand, his ‘roommate’ there at Del Zotto’s, stirred on the other side of the room. Heaving himself off of the bed, the man didn’t even bother with a shirt. Just pulling on a ratty hoodie with the word ‘Boston’ on the front and a pair of basketball shorts over his boxers, he exited into the hallway with a muffled, ‘morning’.

He decided that real clothes could wait for a little while.



As she made her rounds through the Manhattan penthouse to wake up the rest of the inhabitants, Bianca found herself wondering just how DZ had the money for this. He was young, probably younger than her. He had a good job with the League, but not one that could help him afford something you only saw rich old men with a trophy wife living in.

After struggling to wake up Patrick, Bianca wandered back to the kitchen. The only two she hadn’t had to wake up were Taylor and Gabe, who were both seated in the living room. As she sliced the cinnamon roll before placing it into the pan, her phone buzzed on the counter. Wiping her hands, she reached for it.

A text message from a familiar number popped up on the screen. Grimacing, she swiped at the screen.

He’s getting antsy. Are you in?

If you have to ask, you know I am. If I wasn’t, I’d let you know.

You’ll let us know?

“Are you okay?” a voice startled Bianca and she nearly dropped her phone to the wood floors. A blonde head stood in the doorway.

“I-I’m fine,” she nodded, fixing her glasses. “Gabe.”

“Bianca,” he nodded back. “Can I, uh, help?”

“Help?” Bianca thought out loud. She wasn’t used to men knowing a kitchen. Sid could do sandwiches and pancakes, but beyond that, his skills were pretty limited.

“Yeah, you know,” Gabe picked up the pan with the sliced, raw cinnamon rolls. “Cooking? And maybe cleaning up?” He slid the pan into the oven. “You looked a little overwhelmed there, with your phone.”

“Oh that,” Bianca flew into action, covering any tracks. “It’s nothing.” She handed him a sack of oranges. “And thank you.”

Gabe dutifully began slicing on a cutting board while Bianca turned to the fridge. She hadn’t had another body in a kitchen with her since the last time she’d been at home in Minnesota.

“So you never… shared,” he began talking and Bianca tensed. She didn’t like sharing. “How you and Sid knew each other.”

She was shocked it had taken so long for anyone to ask. Bianca liked to compartmentalize certain things. Sometimes, in a world that was so far from straight forward, it was nice to be able to see things in black and white. One of the things, one of the incidents, she had never been able to get a handle on was just how she’d found herself calling Sidney Crosby a…friend.

“Uh,” she blanked. What was the story she’d come up with? Shit, Bianca had prepared for this. “We went to school together. High school.” Half- truths were good. Easy to stick to.

“Shattuck’s?” Gabe pressed. “In Minnesota?”

“Yeah,” Bianca gulped. “In Minnesota.” Pulling out a pack of bacon to finish thawing, Bianca turned to the younger man. “You can leave that there for now. They’re probably ready to start in there.”

He looked at her for a long minute, head cocked to the side. Bianca continued breathing, even though her brain was whirring. She was good at lying, of course. But there was something sweet or kind or something about this…kid that made her feel guilty. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it.

“Right. In there,” he set the knife down and turned to go. “You coming, Bianca?”

She nodded, smiling with just slightly gritted teeth. “In a minute.”

She leaned against the fridge, calming herself. What was going on with her?



Bianca wandered into the living room a few minutes after Gabe had settled on a dining room chair that had been dragged in. She plopped down on the footrest a few feet away, keeping to herself.

She was pretty; you’d be blind not to see that. But now, at 9 am with bright sunlight streaming in and a makeup-less face and messy hair, she looked undone. Maybe it was she looked indifferent to the information Taylor shared, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she somehow knew this stuff already.

“We’ve got the Commissioner’s schedule, thanks to a little bit of hacking,” Taylor continued and Bianca actually looked surprised. Not at the words on the screen but at the fact that he’d been able to crack the firewall. She tried once, a long time ago, but had only succeeded in having a group of agents rain down on her house.

“Our best chance at getting into his office would probably be this afternoon.”

“That soon?” Sidney asked. “It doesn’t give us a lot of time.”

“Who cares?” Marchand rolled his eyes before rubbing his hands together menacingly. “We’ll crack a few heads together and we’ll roll right on through.”

DZ snorted. “Not exactly the subtle approach I think we were going for.”

Jon laughed. “Says the man with 6 bedroom penthouse.”

“So if it’s not a smash and grab,” Kaner said. “Are we looking for a diversion because I know a guy in Yonkers who’s got a garage full of fireworks and we could-,”

“Not only does that not sound safe, but also illegal,” Gabe interrupted him.

“Besides,” Taylor said. “We’d have to coordinate a time and location on a really short notice.”

The room was split in two as Brad, Jon, and Michael argued over beating their way into headquarters and Gabe, Patrick, and Taylor debated about pyrotechnics.

“Enough,” Sidney’s voice didn’t yell, but it commanded attention. “I’d like to hear what Bianca has to say about this.” Bianca scowled. Of course he would put her on the spot like that. “What are you thinking?”

“Smash and grab is too risky,” she leaned back on her hands. “Especially if He’s only going to be down the hall in a conference room.” Brad made a face at her. “Setting off fireworks would be a good idea if we weren’t in the middle of downtown Manhattan. And if we had a guarantee that we could get the Commissioner out of the office.”

“So then what’s your plan?” Sidney crossed his arms. He knew she had one. It was written all over her face.

“I’m thinking…” Bianca took a deep breath as the oven beeped. “That I should go in.” As she retreated to the kitchen she heard conversation break out again.

“And why should it be you?”

Bianca gulped at Sidney’s question. Did he suspect something?

“Because you’re all recognizable,” Bianca responded. And they won’t think anything of me coming by. “I’m technically not a field agent again. I could be going in to fill out my paperwork or something.”

“You’ll wear an earpiece,” Sidney said as he took the bowl of oranges from her. “And no side trips, Bianca.”

“That was one time,” she rolled her eyes, relieved. “And that was a huge sale at Barney’s.”