Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Newsies, nor any of the characters from said movie. They belong rightfully to Disney. All other characters that are mentioned belong to their respective owners.

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Chapter Eleven
The Weasel

This was his chance. Tonight. Right now. Right this moment. Race had told Mush that he was not yet an agent, but Mush would prove tonight that he is indeed ready.

With Blink on the rooftop across the street, Skittery and Mush swiftly made for the Weasel's brownstone. They raced up the steps and crouched against the front door. It was a new moon and they used the darkness to their advantage. Skittery reached into the small pouch hanging on his utility belt, and after rummaging through its contents for a few moments, he pulled out what looked like an ordinary pin. Another one of the Twin's ingenious inventions, Mush supposed. The young agent watched as Skittery placed the pin inside the lock of the door. His head was right by the lock as he twisted and wriggled the pin this way and that. Curiosity got the best of Mush.

"What're you doing?" he whispered.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm picking the lock," Skittery said, his focus still on the door.

"Oh." It was just an ordinary pin after all. "I thought the Twins would have made something to unlock doors by now," said Mush, a little disappointed.

"Yeah, you're telling me."

There was a click then, barely audible. A grin of satisfaction crossed Skittery's face.

"We're in," he said in a low voice.

He pushed the door open slowly and, still crouching, led the way into the foyer. Mush followed cautiously, his eyes jumping from side to side as he tried to take in the sight. The darkness was a hindrance now; he needed a moment for his pupils to adjust to the darker interiors of the house. He closed his eyes tightly, willing them to take in whatever light available from the lampposts outside. He felt a tap on his shoulder and opened his eyes. Skittery signaled with his forefinger, then moved his hand from one side to the other.

Mush was confused for a moment, trying his best to interpret the combination of hand gestures. Skittery kept pointing emphatically to a point behind Mush. He turned around and saw the open entrance. Oh! he thought. Skittery was telling him to close the door. He did so. Once he got back to Skittery's side, they moved forward. Skitts must have known the layout of the apartment like it was his own the way he maneuvered around the furniture and avoided the weak spots in the floor that creaked with one's weight.

The brownstone was impressive. For someone as greasy and unkempt as Wiesel, it was a surprise to see this immaculate and sophisticated apartment that he called home. Several paintings lined the walls of the hallways. The living room featured a matching set of velvet sofas and couches. There was even a chandelier hanging over the room. Golden ornaments filled the room - on the mantel, on the coffee tables.

They made it to the stairs. The office was on the third floor. Mush followed on Skittery's heals as the two rapidly, yet quietly, climbed the steps. In a few seconds, they arrived on the third landing. A strange glow radiated on this floor. Skittery blocked Mush from moving any further with his arm. They had made sure the house was empty, but there was no telling what kind of devices and shields Wiesel had installed since the agents' last visit. He scanned the floor and ceiling, searching every corner. There was an arched opening to their immediate left. Mush realized that the glow was coming from this opening.

"That's the office," Skittery said. The two approached the glowing entrance. "And that's the laser field."

Mush gaped at the chaos of glowing lines that filled the front half of the room, lines that spanned up to the ceiling. The glow from the lasers illuminated the entire room. Beyond, he saw a desk and a massive chair behind it. He couldn't catch sight of the suitcase from where he stood. Mush broke into a sweat of anticipation.

"It's your turn," said Skittery. "I'm going to check out the other rooms, see if I can find anything that might help us." He turned to go downstairs. "Good luck," he said over his shoulder. He hurried down the stairs.

From the earpiece, Mush heard another "Good luck." Kid Blink. Mush breathed in and exhaled slowly. He cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms out. This was his chance. He examined the maze he was to tackle. It was not impossible. Swifty and he had practiced through much tighter mazes than the one before him. But this wasn't practice. There was more on the line. One mistake would give away their position. He would be putting Kid Blink, Skittery and all of Duane Street in danger. And there was no way he would put his friends in danger.

He dived in.

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"Anything?"

"Nothing," said Skittery, touching his earpiece.

He recognized Blink's tone: Kid Blink was bored out of his mind. He didn't blame him. Being the backup to a mission was not the most exciting of missions. Blink was always so full of energy that backup didn't suit him. But he was a good field agent, and he knew that backup was absolutely necessary on these assignments.

"How do you think our boy is doing?" Blink asked. Blink had the main control for the earpieces with him on the roof; right now, he shut off the three-way communication and tapped into Skittery's ear only, so as to not interrupt Mush's mission.

"Don't know. You want me to check?"

"Nah. Nah, we don't want to make him more nervous," said Blink. "He was nervous, wasn't he?"

"Yeah."

"I think he'll be all right," he said, sounding more as though he were trying to convince himself.

"The alarms haven't gone off," Skittery said dully. "That's a good sign."

He continued opening and shutting drawers, searching in closets, under the mattress, finding nothing of significance. Skittery was in Wiesel's bedroom now. The thought disturbed him, so he tried to put it away to the recesses of his mind. He strode across the room and opened the dresser drawers. Upon opening the second compartment, he held back a gag. He quickly shut the drawer and stepped back, obviously offended.

"What is it?" asked Blink, concerned.

"You don't want to know."

He heard Blink sigh through the earpiece. "I wish we just knew what the hell the Weasel is up to. Whatever it is, he's up to no good."

"No kidding," Skittery said, scrutinizing the room from top to bottom before leaving. He walked out into the hallway, looked about, turned right, and poked his head into another room.

A guest room. He stepped in and again, began searching for something, anything, that was out of the ordinary. One drawer, a bed, a night stand, and a chair by the window. He was about to check under the mattress when he stopped short. He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. Something was wrong.

Skittery touched his earpiece. "Kid. Kid?"

Static.

"Kid. Blink. Kid Blink." No answer. "Dammit, what the hell's wrong with this thing?"

More static. Then finally, "I'm here."

Skittery breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, do another lookaround, will ya? Something's not right."

Blink knew better than to question Skittery's instincts. Race didn't call him the "Human Pressure Meter" for nothing. He grabbed his binoculars and searched the streets below. At first he saw nothing from his vantage point on the roof – the moonless night made way for shadows to take over the street. Then he saw it. There was someone on the sidewalk. Blink zoomed in. He swore under his breath.

"Skitts – we have trouble. The Weasel's on his way."

"Shit."

"Get the hell out of there," Blink urged.

Skittery was already on the move. He ran out of the guest room and raced up the stairs. He was breathing hard. Wiesel must be close. He peered into the office and the laser field and saw Mush, squatting, balancing on one foot. He was about halfway through the field.

He didn't want to scare Mush into losing his focus and triggering the alarm, so he whispered: "Mush."

"Yeah," the young agent answered. He moved slowly, deliberately.

"Mush, we gotta scram. You have to get back here," Skittery ordered.

There was no way Mush was giving up now. His brows furrowed. "No," he said. "I can do this."

"Look, we don't have time! Get back here!" Skittery hissed.

"I can get the suitcase. Just give me a minute."

"We don't have a minute, dammit."

"I can do this!"

Skittery saw that Mush was not going to change his mind. He was almost out of the laser field now. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to think. Now there was no time to get Mush out. But he didn't want to distract the Tumbler and set off the alarm, compromising all three of the agents.

He heard a noise from downstairs. The Weasel was at the front door.

"Shit," he muttered again fiercely. He put a hand to his ear. "Blink, we have a situation. Turn on all the earpieces. I need you to make sure the streets are clear. We'll be making a run for it."

"Got it," said Blink.

Skittery jerked his head towards the stairs when he heard the front door open and slam shut. Footsteps. Creaking floorboards. Then the unmistakable rhythm of feet climbing stairs. Skittery could hear the labored breathing as Wiesel climbed. He looked back at Mush one last time – he was still among the lasers – and dashed to the other end of the hallway, skidding into another room.

He peeked out from the doorway. He could see the stairs and the office entrance. He moved his head back into the room, his back leaning against the door jamb, listening to the footsteps. Skittery guessed that the Weasel was close now. He peered back out into the hallway. Sure enough, he saw the back of Wiesel's head rising above the floor as the old man ascended. If Mush did not make it through the lasers…

Wiesel stopped at the right of the entrance. He placed both of his grubby hands on the wall and began to feel the surface. He was searching for something, Skittery realized. The Weasel had not shown any reaction. Maybe Mush made it?

Wiesel stopped. Skittery held his breath. He watched as the man pried open a portion of the wall: beneath it was the control to the office laser field. Skittery spied a number pad; the Weasel punched in a series of numbers with his stubby fingers. He saw the glow from the lasers flicker for a couple of seconds; then the glow disappeared. The laser field was off. Wiesel was about to enter the office. Skittery hoped Mush made it.

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He had hopped and rolled out of the laser field just as he heard the footsteps slow on the third floor and when he could practically feel Wiesel's harsh breaths. Mush panicked. He lifted himself off the floor and surveyed the room quickly. He had no choice. There was no time to search for the suitcase. Mush made for the desk and dove under it.

Just in time. He sat crouched under the desk. Mush saw the glow disappear and he was enveloped in darkness. Mush tried to slow his thundering his heart. He was sweating profusely now; his shirt was soaked through. He tried to remember the breathing exercises he had with Swifty. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat. It was working.

It was working until the light snapped on. Wiesel had turned on the lamp in the room. Mush heard Wiesel grunting. He heard and felt a thud as Wiesel dropped something heavy onto the floor. Mush chanced a look below the desk. Wiesel had carried in a huge box full of what looked like picture frames. Mush squinted to make out more details. And then he saw his feet. Wiesel was shuffling towards him. In a matter of seconds, he would be exposed. Mush couldn't think straight. It was as though his mind were completely clouded.

In a matter of seconds…

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Skittery saw the light turn on from inside the office. He turned his back inside the room and spotted a lamp across from him, by the window. In three long strides, he was there; he took the heavy lamp in his hands and threw it down. It broke into a million fragments with a shattering scream. Quickly, he moved back to the door and hid behind it. Skittery waited. He didn't have to wait long.

The Weasel was coming.

Skittery quickly dug into his utility belt, his fingers fumbling through all the small gadgets inside. He felt a smooth, round surface and pulled it out. It was a marble. He held the marble tightly in his hands as the pounding of footsteps neared. He plastered himself against the wall and took one last breath.

Wiesel swept into the room with his clumsy gait. He paused right inside the doorway and saw the shattered lamp on the floor. Slowly, he walked further into the room, with Skittery still hiding behind the door. He watched Wiesel stoop down over the broken lamp and at that moment, tossed the marble towards him with. The marble hit the floor hard and bounced off towards the far wall, then rolled around and around until it stopped at the tip of Wiesel's foot. Wiesel stood up abruptly. Skittery saw a pistol in his left hand.

Nothing happened.

Oh. Shit.

And then Skittery heard it. A small fizzle. He looked at the marble. It was shaking. Wiesel studied the marble curiously himself. Finally, the marble burst and an explosion of cloudy white gas streamed upwards, filling the room.

"What the hell!" Wiesel yelled, blinded by the gas.

Skittery ran out and slammed the door behind him. He touched his ear. "Mush. Move. Now." He sprinted to the end of the hall and by the time he got to the office, Mush was running out.

The two agents raced down the stairs, fueled by Wiesel's hysterical shouting from the upstairs room. They ran past the paintings, past the living room and the chandelier, into the foyer. Skittery unlocked and pulled open the front door, waving Mush to head out. Kid Blink was beckoning with his arms on the opposite side of the street. Skittery looked up towards the staircase. Wiesel had gotten out of the room and was stumbling down the stairs. Skittery hastily shut the door and ran.

The three agents sped down the street and disappeared into the shadows.

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Author's Note: Thank you Dewy and stress for the reviews! Our newsboy/agents don't seem to be having a lot of luck lately. Was Pie right? Is the Agency really going downhill?