THE PITCH
James Haresign
Copyright © by James Haresign 2013
Cover art © Alex Pass
www.fromsmallpixels.co.uk
He scanned the room. There were the usual defences: laser tripwires, pressure sensitive plates in the floor; nothing too difficult. The guard was another matter. To Gavin Talbot's surprise this guard was being quite thorough. He had already circled the room twice and was now looking over the roof. Probably his first night. The torch light suddenly shifted and was directly in his eyes. Gavin fought the urge to move his head but simply closed his eyes. His vision glowed red under the intense light. It disappeared quickly, and as he opened his eyes the guard was already leaving the room, satisfied it was empty.
Gavin smiled to himself. His camouflage ability had done its job again. Not that he should be surprised, whatever his talent was it had got him through tougher situations than a vigilant guard. Despite his natural ability being a huge boon to the art of breaking and entering he believed it was a crutch he shouldn't lean on. It had got him started on this road but his tutor had stressed success was in the planning. No amount of the fancy moves or luck like Gavin had relied when he started out could ever be as reliable as a well-thought out plan. That was why he knew that the guards weren't due back in here for a good twenty minutes, and those who were scrutinizing the CCTV feeds were unknowingly watching a repeat. Even if they weren't he doubted they would see anything. He shifted his body back to normal just in case someone spotted him he didn't need rumours of an invisible thief starting to float about, that could make things difficult. Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and set to work on the display cabinet.
As he reached out for the Imperial Napoleonic Egg a voice behind him froze him in place. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Gavin knew he still had another fifteen minutes for the guards. Besides, he was looking straight at the door and no one had come in. Had the luck he had abandoned years ago finally turned on him?
He glanced behind him and for a second didn't see anyone. Then, slowly but surely, a figure appeared almost as if from thin air. Whoever it was they certainly weren't a guard. He was dressed extremely similar to Gavin, a black body suit and a full face mask, though the stranger's had more of a military leaning. While Gavin's had a gap to see out of, the other man had a visor, not a single millimetre of skin could be seen. Most obviously however, was the fact he was pointing a gun straight at Gavin.
He turned to face the arrival properly. “That's a neat trick,” Gavin said, humour he didn't feel filling his voice.
Gavin got the impression of a smile underneath the mask. “Thanks. I hope you don't mind, it's rather similar to your own.” Gavin grimaced, this guy knew far too much. “So, I finally get to meet the infamous Raven.”
This was not good at all. “I think you've mistaken me for someone else.”
“Really? Could have sworn I watched you climb along the roof earlier. And that guard certainly couldn't see anything when he looked straight at you. Funny thing is, with that name I expected you to fly.” Before Gavin could plead his ignorance a second time the man continued. “Look I don't want to arrest you, but I will if I have to. However, I have a job offer if you're interested.”
That peaked Gavin's interest. He tilted his head and uttered a quizzical “Hmm?”
“You shouldn't be wasting your talents on petty things like this. We can do so much more. What about others whose gifts aren't quite as impressive as our own? We can help them.”
“Petty? This is the Imperial Napoleonic Egg. It's valued at close to five million dollars. That's hardly petty.”
The stranger ignored Gavin's response. “I work for a group that would find someone like you extremely useful. You come with most of the training already in place, and we'd make sure no one ever made the connection between you and your career.”
Gavin had heard enough. “Well you pose an interesting offer. I have a counter.” Without wasting a second Gavin's hand snatched the Fabergé Egg from its stand. “Catch.” He lobbed the artefact at the other intruder, who immediately dropped his gun and reached for the most expensive baseball ever thrown. Alarms started blasting as soon as Gavin had removed the Egg from its housing. As it left his hands Gavin had spun on the ball of his left foot and sprinted for the door.
Breaking right when he was through he jumped onto a table and launched himself at the wall. He hit the wall, took hold and started climbing. His body automatically took on the hue of the wall. When he was high enough to be out of sight of those rushing past he froze in place. As good as his chameleon ability was, if he was moving it might as well not use it. Whoever that had been in the main display room worried Gavin; it seemed like he could see him just fine. He just had to hope not right now.
The guards belted past, cries of shock that the display case was open, then bemusement that the egg was simply lying on its side and confusion at the rope attached to the ceiling.
Gavin hated leaving gear like that. It was sloppy. Even worse was leaving the egg. It would have looked great on his mantelpiece.
Waking up the next morning Gavin had been plagued by one question. Who was it that had interrupted his job? And how did he know who Gavin was?
With absolutely no leads to go on, he was left with only one option. Head back to the Metropolitan for the Bernini Opening Gala that evening. There might not be any shocking revelation of the Imperial Napoleonic Egg missing, but maybe he could get some idea as to who or what had happened last night.
Getting into the social gathering had been easy, simply because he lifted a ticket off some doddering old fool just outside the door. As Gavin entered he overheard the old man sounding extremely flustered as he tried to find his ticket for the doorman.
He glared at the Napoleonic Egg, taunting him with its very presence as he walked past. Gavin prided himself on never stealing the prize of the exhibition, it was far too obvious. It was much funnier to steal something unrelated. So while everyone turned up to see the Italian's clay sculptures the museum would be in uproar as one of their prized long term features was missing.
He knew the rule was meant to be Never Return To The Scene Of The Crime, but technically there hadn't been one. At least security seemed a little skittish after last night's alarm, that at least helped with the annoyance of failing, and it did give Gavin some immature glee.
After his mentor had declared Gavin as trained as he ever was going to be, his very first job was to rip off a Raphael painting from the Victoria and Albert Museum in London the night before an Opening Gala simply for his own amusement. He'd then made his way along to the event just like this one and watched with glee as the museum staff scrambled to try and hide the fact the painting had been stolen. It became his thing. He'd do a job like it every couple of years, just for himself, just for amusement. He'd stopped going to the events after the first few though. He realised just how reckless he was being, plus the reactions started to become predictable.
As he reached the room of the museum that the gala was being held in Gavin's heart sunk a little. There were so many people his fun from last night would have had a huge effect, the place was packed with New York's finest. Property magnates, local celebrities with a taste for the finer things in life, stock brokers and the ridiculously rich. If he was so inclined Gavin was sure he could con a few thousand off some of the attendees. But he was here for clues as to what happened last night. He claimed a glass of champagne off a passing waiter and started to make his way through the guests, a number of which were talking about the rumours of the alarm going off last night. While he may not have his new mantelpiece decoration, taking pride in the consternation of the museum and guests helped make up for it.
After a few circuits of the party
it was clear that no one had the faintest idea as to why the alarm had sounded last night, and no voices leapt out at Gavin as belonging to his mysterious visitor. He wasn't really sure what he'd expected to find. Just as he decided to call it a day, for the third time he noticed the gorgeous looking blonde in the rather plain grey skirt and white blouse still losing her hard fought battle to keep a guy interested in whatever she was selling. Her fashionable glasses were a concession to good taste, it was quite clear to Gavin that she was dressed this way in an attempt to be seen as a serious business woman rather than be disregarded as some T&A. The guy looked like he'd just stepped off the stock market floor; tall, black haired, good looking, mid to late thirties, and totally uninterested with what the thin blonde had to say. That Gavin found hard to believe, despite her dress sense and tied back
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