"So how is school really Lynne? You know, with balancing Literature, Creative writing and did you say a fighting society?"

I giggle at her guess. "It's kickboxing club mum," I lie. We sit in the dorm room of my university eating ordered Chinese food after spending the day spending time together in the summer break. It's the same university I go to with Orabelle, Aasim, Zeth and Jiaying and I wouldn't have it any other way. It is strategically close in proximity to headquarters and we thought it would be beneficial, especially since we were in the gang, to go to the same school where we could keep an eye on each other and have fast commute to each other. We weren't that stupid to base our decision solely on the gang. It was also one of the finest universities for all of our subjects. Aasim has a music scholarship and is studying social work. Jiaying-journalism and media which suits her inquisitive personality. This school was also advantageous to Zeth since unlike most universities, this one allowed Zeth to pursue both his beloved passion photography as well as  doing computer science. And finally, Orabelle has her hands occupied with full-time accounting.    

The kickboxing club is an excuse for my improved agility and muscle gains from training that my observant mum hasn't failed to notice over the last two years. She also thinks the money I'm earning from the organisation is from working at the kickboxing club.

"And yeah it's all good," I assure her.

"Is your social life good too? I was worried about you moving out of the house. I mean, you mainly keep to yourself baby."

"Yeah it's fine too mum. I've made friends but I wouldn't exactly call them lifelong like the ones I met before University."

"Hmm, okay," mum responds, focused on finishing the last pieces of Singapore fried rice on her plate.

I hesitate before asking my mum's advice on something. "Actually one of those friends mum, they are...struggling with something but don't want to talk to anyone about it. I want to help them without pushing them away or forcing them to do anything they wouldn't like to do."

Mum concentrates on chewing on some meat and rubbing a wipe on her hands before answering.

"Well, I'm sure you know that it wouldn't be the best idea to be their therapist sweetheart but as their friend, it might be incremental that you make them comfortable enough to talk to you first so that it is easier for them to open up to a professional in the near future."

I sigh, aware that what my mum is saying is possible but easier said than done.

"Who is this friend by the way? Is it a boy?" she teases. When I look down coyly she looks apologetic.

"Oh are they non-binary? Is that why you referred to them as-well- them?"

I stack her plate on top of mine only to distract myself. "No you're right mum, it's a boy."

A cheeky smile stretches onto my mum's face. "I see. And are they cute?"

I laugh so that I don't have to answer and take our plates and rubbish to the shared kitchen not knowing my mum followed me. I must have inherited some of my nosiness from her.

"Sensitive topic huh?" she pushes.

"No just...yeah," I admit. When my hands are no longer full, she reaches out to squeeze my hand.

"You know if there is anything you want to talk about, I'm here." She looks into my eyes, reassuring me whilst simultaneously searching them for the truth she knows I'm hiding from her. Since the last time I asked her, I've never asked more about my dad knowing it was a sensitive topic to her. And since then she hasn't pushed information out of me and I feel guilty knowing it's because she thinks I will use the conversation about my dad against her. 

I hug her tightly in thanks, mumbling that I'm lucky to have her. Her presence brings to mind the absence of Aasim's mum in his life and I make a silent pact to myself to have some long awaited discussions with him. It also reminds me of some conversations to have with The Joker. I rejected the full amount of money he said he would pay me working for the gang to only accept half that amount for University finances. I requested that instead of the money, I wanted his or his team's help finding my father. Only up until now, he has not informed me about his progress with finding him. I knew making a deal with a possible lunatic would not deliver any guaranteed results but I thought he would consider honour. Perhaps I overestimated the deceitful, brutal, untrustworthy crime boss. How ironic.

Vibrations rumble against my hip from the pocket of my jeans and I pull away from my mum to check my phone.

A message from Orabelle reads, 'We have a job.' I inwardly sigh, annoyed that I can't spend more time with my mum before she has to leave.

"Sorry mum. I er have a group assignment to finish soon," I lie. Guilt piles in my chest as I look in her eyes where disappointment shows.

"Oh it's okay, it's getting late so I should be going anyway." My mum's calloused hands hug my cheeks affectionately. "I'm proud of you Lynne." She kisses my forehead so I can breathe in her sweet jasmine scented perfume then leaves. I rub my eyes to rid of the tears I didn't even know were welling in them.

I text Orabelle back, 'I'm coming'. 

One hour later, Aasim and I are hiding under cars with stun guns at the ready to shoot. One of the deals we made with The Joker was that we would use weapons that wouldn't kill someone since we couldn't have it on our conscience. He only argued exclaiming, "But where's the fun in that?".

 My back starts to ache and I feel the need to stretch after being stuck under here for so long. 

"How much longer?" I whisper to Aasim.

"Right about now." Two figures dressed in leather with blades strapped to their sides appear in front of us, clueless about our presence. No doubt they are sweating under their hefty outfits like I am. I regret the thick hoodie and joggers I'm clothed in instantly. But it's too late since the ants under me makes me squirm slightly. Aasim eyes me from the side in a warning not to blow our cover. I try to be patient and tunnel all my concentration on the conversation in front of us.

"They're the new Bonnie and Clyde but more dangerous than we can expect." A deep male voice says.

"More danger, more money." The other man adds twirling his knife around skilfully as if it's a drumstick. His voice is so deep that it sounds more like a rumble.

"No. It's not worth it. They are crazy. We should run whilst we can Cyrus. Last time they murdered someone and suddenly the witness is gone, disappears forever and the police haven't been able to find them since."

"So? Since when have we cared about what happened to the eyes?"

"We don't but they're ruthless. They dispose of who they recruit as soon as they get the mission done for them. No rewards. No money."

"That's because the others weren't good enough. But we'll be better Johnny. Trust me."

The sound of heavy footed boots and the click clacking of high heels approaching interrupts the men's conversation and I am so afraid to move my head to get a better view that I can only see a pair of stilettos worn by long slim legs and a pair of boots. Neither of them would be suitable for stealth or surprise but I guess their ego tells them that they are so good that they don't care.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you boys," a shrill and equally sultry female voice coos.

"Our's too. We've been waiting for this for a long time," the man named Cyprus drawls.

"Alright small talk is over." Another man's country accent enters the equation. I assume it's Clyde's copycat.

"Oh? But we barely even started," Bonnie 2.0 giggles.

"We have some cargo that needs to be transported somewhere."

"Where?" Cyprus asks. I surmise that he's decided to talk for both him and Johnny. 

"Iceland. I hear you two have a way of accessing helicopters where you can disable all tracking and create a direct route internationally without traffic or disturbances," wannabe Clyde says.

Johnny cuts in before Cyrus answers this time, seeming to find his voice. "Before we know what we're getting into we need to know exactly what that cargo is. And why Iceland?"

"We could make a lot of profit in the country with the lowest crime rate. And if Iceland wants to keep that reputation, it'll be a long time before they reveal that it so happens that it's not true anymore." 

"But why don't you travel with the cargo?" Johnny is pushing his limits with these questions. Even Jiaying would know that.

Someone tuts. "You're a curious boy aren't you?" the Bonnie impersonator states more than asks. 

"We still have some work to finish up here," false Clyde divulges.

"You mind telling us about that work?" Johnny questions.

"What my brother means to say is we want to help you." Cyrus intercedes before they most likely both get killed.

"Ah. What gentlemen, right hubby?" I presume the Bonnie fraud is asking fake Clyde. "You see gentlemen, every work we do is like our different kids. And we don't need random babysitters handling certain litter you understand?" 

I almost laugh at the wild analogy the woman just gave comparing children to their criminal business. 

"It needs to be done by tonight." the Clyde imitator informs.

"Not a problem. We'll get it done for ya." Cyrus assures.

The deal is done and so is Aasim and I's job luckily. My heart calms at the prospect of not being exposed giving me courage to move my head forward obscurely. I see the boots and and most likely stolen stilettos or stolen money for the stilettos turn around before the high heels unexpectantly swivel around again, causing my heart to drum so loudly I'm afraid the criminals can hear it. I try to control my breathing and Aasim shoots me a concerned look. I watch as the lady takes the blade from Cyrus's hand and uses it as a mirror as she reapplies her lipstick.

Johnny frowns and as do I. "We've got to get going so don't you think this is a waste of t-". Before Johnny can finish his sentence, he is shoved back by the lady's husband to silence him.

"I don't want to appear washed up since it's a long trip for us ahead. But when you're doing things with your family, it's better. I respect family boys which is why I will help you right now."

Huh? Aasim and I share a baffled look at the same time the brothers do. I don't understand until I see the woman slowly turning the knife at an angle. She makes eye contact with me through the reflection of the polished blade and smiles sweetly. However, it's no match for the Joker's rictus sneer.

She sings, "Peek-a-boo. I see you."

**********

Damn, they were caught? What's going to happen next?