Prowl
Nothing Else Matters but Survival
By
Deidra D. S. Green
Stephanie Nicole Norris
Note from the Publisher: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead or references to locations, persons, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters, circumstances and events are imaginative and not intended to reflect real events.
Prowl
Nothing Else Matters but Survival
Copyright 2017 Deidra D. S. Green and Stephanie Nicole Norris
RATHSI Publishing, LLC and Love is a Drug Ink.
All Rights Reserved and Proprietary.
No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form or format without written permission from Publisher. Send all requests via email to [email protected] or [email protected]
Acknowledgments
I am eternally grateful to the Creator of all things for every opportunity that he gives me for self-expression. The self that is being expressed is the self he engineered and I am awestruck at how much he loves me. My reading family has been with me since the very beginning. I appreciate you and want you to know that I never take your support, cheers, prayers, encouragement, willingness and love for granted. Thank you to my literary family. Rathsi Publishing Company is family and I love my family. Thank you to the members of Mahogany Writer’s Exchange. You ladies help me in more ways thank you know. I appreciate you challenging me to be the best version of my literary self. Thank you to my writing partner on this project Stephanie Nicole Norris. Who knew that it would come to this? Thank you for the long brainstorming sessions, the planning sessions, the accountability, the laughs and the opportunity to come together to do something we both love.
Chapter One
Kunsthistorisches Museum
Vienna Austria
“Champagne madam?” Symone Ellis turned toward the server, a small smile hinting the corners of her lips.
“Danke,” she said, thanking the man in his native German tongue. She removed a flute of the bubbly liquid from the sterling silver tray he held.
“And you, madam,” the server said, balancing the tray effortlessly toward Drew Patterson, Symone’s long time best friend. His accent was thick as if he’d never set foot outside of the country.
“Nein Danke,” she declined.
The server moved off leaving the women to admire the 1617 painting of the decapitated head of Medusa, owned by Peter Paul Rubens, the greatest painter of Flemish Baroque. Leaning closer to Symone, Drew whispered, “We should’ve put this on our list.”
Symone didn’t bat an eye at the insinuation. Instead, she took a sip from her glass and puckered her lips like she was in deep thought before responding. “If you had it your way, everything in this museum would be on the list.”
Symone stepped on to the next painting, pretending to admire its mastery.
To anyone who paid them any mind, Symone and Drew appeared to be two beautiful women that belonged to a heritage of money with the air of elegance they gave off. Draped in Valentino gowns that hugged their statuesque curves all the way down to the heels that accentuated their pedicured feet, the women exuded confidence and pedigree. No one would’ve known they were a part of an elaborate scheme to steal one of the museum's most prized possessions. Drew lingered in front of the head of Medusa a moment longer before gliding to Symone’s side again.
“You guys should listen to me more often; my advice holds just as much weight as anyone else’s.”
Symone glanced at her. “Baby girl, what are you talking about? You’re the brains of this operation.”
“This time,” Drew said. “But you guys should really take what I say into account more often.”
“You really want to have this conversation now?”
Drew didn’t respond, deciding to take this up with her sister Brooklyn and best friends later. The museum was crowded with the who’s who from around the world. The highlight of today’s feature was the introduction of a selection of art pieces from Peter Paul Rubens. Tomorrow would be the major exhibition honoring up to forty pieces of European art history. But none of it was what they came for. The particular treasure they wanted was behind the scenes, and today they were there to case the place. They’d laid all the plans out and studied them until they were a blueprint sketched in each of their minds’ eye.
“Drew, not now. Stay focused.” Her sister’s voice chirped in the earpiece she wore.
Drew was not one to let things go, she had to get her point across. Being the youngest of the group, Drew felt disregarded most times. She swirled slow and elegant making eye contact with her sister Brooklyn across the room. Brooklyn was also beautifully dressed in a Vera Wang gown. Drew bit down on her teeth, crushing the retort that sat on her tongue. Next to her sister was another long-time friend, Leah Hunter; equally as gorgeous, showing off her long neck as her hair sat atop her head in a bundle of curls. Drew saw the smirk on Leah’s face, knowing it was hard for Drew to follow orders without a snarky response.
“On the right,” Symone said sauntering toward the area that held the gem, smiling and nodding as she passed other attendees. Getting closer to the area she’d mapped out in her mind caused a sudden rush of excitement to flicker through her, but an image in her peripheral vision caused Symone to stop dead in her tracks. Symone didn’t see Drew move past her from the shock of a familiar face standing further away from her, but almost directly in her path. Instantly, a singe of heat tingled through Symone’s core; sending a volcanic blaze paralyzing her approach. Chills sprinkled across her arms, and the fine hairs on her neck stood on edge. Standing 6’4, adorned in a Brioni tuxedo that must have been custom made by the way it fit his broad shoulders and athletic chest, stood Mason Fuller, the FBI Agent that was assigned to their case.
His profile was daunting, slightly menacing, but charming at the same time. Symone was a master black belt, teaching martial arts during the day to adults and adolescents on a regular basis. Symone had never been afraid of anyone or anything in her life, but she was afraid of him. Not because of his career choice, but because of the unexplainable way her body reacted every time she came across his face.
“Symone, you stopped moving.” Leah chirped in her ear. At the sound of her cousins’ voice, Symone blinked and retreated.
“Fall back,” Symone quipped. “Now.” She turned to make sure Drew heard her. It was then she realized Drew was no longer standing next to her. Looking left, right then completing a twist in her heels, she searched for Drew, sighing heavily.
“Does anybody have eyes on Drew?”
Drew pulled up in front of a display, and her eyes sparkled.
“I’m in position,” she uttered. “I can take it now.”
“Drew, abort the mission!” Symone hissed through the earpiece.
“You don’t understand,” Drew protested.
“No, you don’t understand!” Symone barked back.
“I’m so close,” Drew said reaching her hand forward to grasp the item.
Six Months Earlier
Drew Patterson unrolled the large picture and laid it out on the kitchen table. “This is the Saliera.”
Drew’s eyes roamed from her sister, Brooklyn Patterson to their friends Leah Hunter and Symone Ellis. They stood around the table looking at the next item on their salvage list. Because it was a museum piece, the group agreed to let Drew take the lead since she was a curator of a local museum. Her knowledge of this precious item was essential to their operation.
“It looks heavy,” Leah noted.
“It’s a
ten-inch gold figurine by Benvenuto Cellini, a sixteenth-century artist. It’s a little weighty but not so much that it would be a problem lifting,” Drew countered.
Leah peered closer. “But what is it exactly?”
“Plainly put, it’s a salt shaker. The man holds the salt, the woman the pepper,” Drew explained.
“Seriously, we’re stealing a salt shaker?” Leah responded.
“The appraised value is over fifty million dollars,” Drew stated matter of factly.
There was a steely silence that fell in the room as each one of them took in the weight of what stealing such an item could cost them personally.
“It’s located in Vienna Austria. It’ll be a good time to put to use all the years of foreign language classes we’ve taken,” Drew said.
“But if we get caught…” Leah remarked.
Drew exhaled deeply. “Really Leah, must you start with the woe is me speech?”
Leah waved her off. “Whatever,” Leah scoffed. “Whenever we do this, talking about the consequences should always be a part of the conversation.”
“You weren’t singing that same tune when Symone was the lead on the last job,” Drew fused.
“Yes, I did, only you didn’t hear it. Symone and I live together. Trust me, she heard it every day, until the day.”
“Leah,” Symone spoke. “The consequences are the same. We’ve been over this. We’ve fussed, fought, and cried it out. Did we not?” Leah didn’t respond, and Symone continued. “We all came to the same conclusion. It’s worth the risk. Everything is at stake here.”
Brooklyn turned to her sister placing a hand on her shoulder giving it a slight rub in an effort to calm her. Drew met her eyes. “We’re doing it,” Brooklyn confirmed. “For the next six months leading up to the date, we meet every day to go over details, plans, and positions. Everyone remember your posts! We can’t step out of place; the slightest slip up could mean the end for us.”
Brooklyn unzipped her bag and pulled out a photo placing it in the center of the table on top of the picture of the Saliera.
“This is FBI Agent Mason Fuller.”
She pulled out another photo and sat it next to his picture.
“This is his partner, Agent Brittany Stinson. They are currently looking for us. They don’t know we’re women, nor do they know how many of us there are. But they are good at their jobs and have always caught their man.” She let the words sink in.
“Well that’s refreshing,” Leah asked. “How do you know all this?”
“I have a source on the inside.”
Drew’s eyes bugged out. “This source knows who we are?”
Brooklyn shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous! I would never give that information out to anyone. Just know, I’ve got my ways of getting information.” Brooklyn cast a glance at Symone. “You’re awfully quiet.”
All eyes turned to Symone. Her dark brown eyes were stuck on the photos in the middle of the table. She reached behind her head and gave her neck a light squeeze. She’d run into Mason Fuller on more than one occasion now; once during their initial bank heist where she’d pretended to be an innocent citizen trying to make a deposit, and again, as she sat alone at Starbucks during her weekly sugar binge. Everything Symone ate went to her hips. Knowing this, she’d made it her business to watch her sugar intake. But once a week, Symone allowed herself the guilty pleasure to indulge. Seeing him the second time ruffled her feathers. Besides the fact Agent Fuller was searching for her hidden identity, she was attracted to him in the most sinful way, and it terrified her. Symone’s eyes snapped up to Brooklyn.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Brooklyn said squinting at her. “Is there something you need us to know?”
Symone glanced from one person to the next. “No.”
Brooklyn didn’t believe her, but she’d get to the bottom of it later.
“Listen, ladies, our routine is the same as always. When we first set foot in the Kunsthistorisches Museum, we’re only there to check things out. So, stay low key and don’t bring any attention to yourself.
Present Day
An alarm was triggered before Symone could get to Drew.
“Shit!” She barked through the earpiece. The doors to the museum closed and security marched into place like a military force.
“Symone, do you have her?” Brooklyn questioned.
“No, I don’t,” she whispered sharply.
More security poured into the museum. Sporadic gasps and murmurs from onlookers crowded the space.
“We’re locked in,” Leah muttered. “Brooklyn, did you fix the camera system?”
“Of course,” Brooklyn answered.
“I’ve got eyes on Drew,” Leah stated.
“Where,” Brooklyn asked a bit frantic.
“Left side, by the table of hors d’oeuvres.”
They all glanced to her position. Drew gave a small smile and winked.
“I’m going to kill her,” Symone growled.
“Hold your position ladies. We’ve got to get out of this in one piece.”
“We have to abort this mission,” Symone insisted. “It’s not the right time.”
“Why not,” Drew casually interjected.
“You don’t get to ask questions. You know we’ve been looking for you. Why haven’t you been answering us?” Symone was livid.
“Calm down,” Brooklyn ordered.
“Calm down? I’d like all of you to turn your attention to the right side of the room, black tux, golden brown skin, dark gray eyes, low haircut, looking like a god wrapped in flesh!” She spat the words out in one deep breath. A server passed her and Symone snatched a flute of champagne off the tray, tossing it back in one gulp.
“Damn girl! Sounds like you’ve got a crush,” Drew taunted.
“What are you talking about?” Symone screeched.
“Um, you just described him using the word god. Do you need any more explanation than that?” Drew queried.
“I’ll tell you what you should be explaining!”
“Ladies, you have got to calm down. We’ve come too far to get caught up now. Drew what did you take?” Brooklyn asked, always the reasonable one.
“I didn’t take anything.”
“So why did the alarm go off?” Leah questioned.
“I don’t know. I guess we’re about to find out.”
The team of security marched through the crowd before a tall, thin man with bifocals pulled a microphone to his lips speaking in German.
“Ladies and gentleman, it seems there’s been a false alarm. I assure you, this has never happened before, but all appears to be in place now. I apologize for the misunderstanding. If you would like to leave, the doors are open, but I would encourage you all to stay. Don’t forget, tomorrow we’re honoring Peter Paul Rubens, and I’d like it very much if you all would attend. Thank you for your patience. Please carry on.”
“Carry on, the man says,” Drew snarked.
“We’re leaving one after the other. Now!” Symone barked.
Symone was the first to march out of the door. Other patrons straggled behind her unable to stay after the unease of the night’s events. One by one, the ladies left in separate vehicles, making it their business to appear as if they didn’t know each other.
Back at the hotel, they went about the business of packing their belongings. Drew was the last to enter and all heads whipped towards her.
“What,” Drew asked innocently.
Symone pursed her lips, resting her hands on her hips.
“Okay, I know, I screwed up. You’re all right. I should’ve responded, but you have to understand. I’ve studied the Saliera for what seems like a lifetime. To stand in front of it, in all of its glory caused me to go blank for a moment.”
The women glared at her.
“I’m sorry,” Drew offered.
“Pack your bags, we’re leaving,” Symone quipped.
Drew huffed, mumbling under her breath. T
he ladies packed, checked out, and caught the next flight back to the states. As par the course, each sat separately in the airport, on the plane, and took different taxis upon leaving. It took them ten hours when they finally reached New York City.
“Let’s meet up at our place,” Brooklyn said. “We need to regroup.”
They hailed a taxi, instructing the driver to The Shops at Columbus Circle Mall. Once there, Leah paid the taxi, and they jumped into Symone’s Jeep Grand Cherokee. The car ride was quiet; everyone inside their own heads. Twenty minutes later they pulled into Brooklyn and Drew’s circular driveway and entered the house.
“Maybe we could do this tomorrow.” Symone stated. “We’ve already lost the opportunity to snatch the Saliera, so what’s the rush?”
“We need to talk about what happened,” Brooklyn said. Leah grabbed the remote control and flipped through the channels.
“I’ll tell you what happened. Little Miss, ‘you guys never listen to meeee,’ over here almost blew everything!” Symone yelled.
“I didn’t almost blow anything. You’re exaggerating as usual!” Drew shot back.
“Ladies!” Leah spoke up. They all turned to Leah then followed her eyes to see what had caught her attention. A CNN spokesperson was talking about a robbery at Kunsthistorisches Museum, in Vienna Austria.
“Turn it up!” Brooklyn said, as the women crowded the television.
“The false alarm turned out not to be false after all, as a hologram of the Saliera was left in place of the sixteenth-century artifact. The cameras seemed to be out of commission at the time of the heist, so no known suspects have been listed. This story is still developing…”
The trio turned towards Drew. A bright, sneaky smile lit up her face. In her hand, the Saliera sat in pristine state. Their mouths dropped.
“I told you, you guys should listen to me more often.”
Chapter Two
Prowl (Nothing Else Matters But Survival Book 1) Page 1