by John Booth
“This is a map of the museum showing the security measures,” he said to nobody’s surprise. If he’d said it was a map of Venice, well, that would have been unexpected.
I stepped in front of Brian and looked at the plans. Within seconds I had committed them to memory though I would need to review them in my head to be sure what they showed. I stepped away from the table to let Brian get a closer look.
“How accurate are they?” Brian asked. That was a surprise. The boy was showing signs of intelligence.
“I sponsor the security at the Metropolitan,” The Don said, almost apologetically.
“One free theft with every sponsorship deal,” I said in TV host mode. The Don shrugged indifferently. I guess that’s how it works in many cities. The guy who runs the joint gives with one hand then takes it back with the other.
“There are video surveillance cameras everywhere and they have drop down metal screens at the doors and windows all the way up. How are we supposed to get in there?” Brian again. Anyone would think he was a professional crook, the questions he asked. I was beginning to like him more every minute. No sign of fear, just level headed questions.
“I was thinking maybe you would go in over the roof,” The Don told us. “We seen you can climb walls and the surveillance cameras only cover the ground.”
I closed my eyes and examined the plan of the roof. “Laser trip wires on all the skylights as well as conventional alarms if we were stupid enough to open a window.”
“There’s no lasers on the roof though. They took them off because the pigeons kept tripping them,” Mike said. “No sound detectors for the same reason. If you can get up there it’s still the easiest way in.”
“We want this box,” The Don said. He threw a pamphlet at me that had a photograph of the box in question on the cover. It was the one I had seen in my flashback except my face had been scratched off the middle of the design. I recognized that now. How long had I lived anyway? That box was four thousand five hundred years old according to the pamphlet.
“You got any tools for us?” Guess who said that? Yeah, the boy-wonder again.
The Don pointed to the wall where three large canvas bags waited. “The last team gave their tools as a gift to me. Take what you want.”
‘I’ll bet they did,’ I thought, but decided to keep the thought to myself. The Don thought I was surplus to requirements and I was partial to keeping my head. I thought I looked better with it than without it.
Brian and I went over to the bags and unzipped them. One was filled with electronic equipment and a laptop.
“You know how to work any of this?” I asked, half expecting an enthusiastic nod, but Brian shook his head.
“I know how to use the glass cutter though. And the suction cups.”
There were some spray cans labeled ‘Reveal’ and I sprayed one in the air above the table. Light from the spot showed as a pale image in the mist the spray formed.
“Could be useful,” Brian suggested and I nodded.
I brought up the plan in my head showing the security around the box. Not easy to get through without setting off every alarm in the State.
Brian waved a long nylon rope at me and I nodded. We would need that. I hoped it would be long enough.
There was something else at the bottom of the third bag that might prove invaluable. I looked over to the Don who was in deep conversation with Mike and slipped them casually into my jacket pockets. With luck nobody had noticed.
“When do we start?” Brian asked. He sounded eager.
The Don finished his conversation with Mike and looked at us.
“There’s a shift change at 1 a.m. Vinnie and Mike will drop you off a block away from the museum at a parking garage I own. They’ll walk with you to where the visual surveillance begins and then it’s up to you. You’ll have an hour before your necklaces explode, give or take the few minutes you’ll stay in range of the remote. Your watches are set up to start an hour countdown when you press the top right button. Don’t be late getting back.”
“An hour’s not long enough,” I said, moving into negotiating mode.
The Don shrugged.
“Then you won’t get back. Go to the garage with the box and make sure the cops aren’t tailing you. The doors will be locked if we see anyone behind you.”
“Won’t it upset your VIP if the box gets blown to pieces?” I asked innocently.
“The heist goes wrong, I get to blame the hired help. We tried to do the heist and you failed. Your heads get blown from your bodies, that’s something that ain’t gonna be forgotten in this town.”
“So you win either way?”
“That’s why I’m The Don.” He didn’t sound the slightest bit apologetic about it.
“Let’s put everything we’re taking into one of the bags,” Brian suggested.
As we moved the items over I whispered, “You seem to be enjoying this.”
“It’s better than wearing those silver cuffs and maybe the Hawks will help us. They must be watching the museum.”
“Don’t count on it, kid.” I couldn’t explain it, but I was sure we’d be on our own. Given that my memory was coming back in fits and starts, I figured my premonition was probably a fact.
The Hawks weren’t going to lift a finger to help us and we didn’t stand a chance.
12. Heist
Two of The Don’s whores entered the den carrying trays of food. I was ravenous and fell upon the trays like they were an enemy to be defeated. Brian picked at his food as I gobbled.
“You must be hungry, kid. Eat.”
“I’m not a kid,” Brian snapped back at me. “And we’ll probably get killed tonight. Either shot by museum security or our heads blown off.”
I nodded, “Yeah you’re right. So do you want to be worrying about an empty stomach when you’re dying?”
Brian grinned. “Does anything bother you?”
“Only things I can do something about. Right now I can eat. So should you.”
Brian took a bite from one of the pieces of pizza. “Hey, this isn’t bad.”
I smiled. The kid was all right and I wished I could show him a good time before we attempted this mad heist. Not that there was any chance of that. The hoods wouldn’t let us out of their sight until we reached the museum.
There was no doubt that The Don expected us to get killed. He was cutting his losses. If we got lucky and returned the box he’d probably kill us himself. The Hawks had been too soft when they returned his men alive. He wasn’t scared of them. If they’d killed his men he might have cut us loose rather than risk a street war. It wasn’t looking good.
The parking garage turned out to be one of those places with a car elevator. People dropped off their cars and it was shuffled onto the upper floors and into a slot. Two fat kids wearing dirty tee-shirts were told to take a hike by Mike and Vinnie as soon as they let us in.
The garage was closed for the night. Personally, I would have thought a couple of poodles would have been more effective guards than those kids. Mike reversed his car into the elevator, presumably so he could make a quick getaway later. He rolled down the garage doors, shutting us in. There was another small door to the outside, next to a small office. The office boasted a desk, an electric kettle and a tiny refrigerator. The walls were painted a horrific yellow. All in all, I’d rather be facing bullets than waiting in a dump like this.
Vinnie checked his watch. “Twelve-thirty, we’d better make a move.” He opened the door, but Mike shook his head.
“It’s fifteen minutes max to the museum. We don’t want to be hanging about on the streets this time in the morning. It might attract unwelcome attention.”
“I just thought”
“Let me and the boss do the thinking, Vinnie.”
The two hoods glared at each other while I grabbed Brian and pulled him into a dark corner. We crouched beside the bag with our tools in it.
“Let’s check what we’ve got and make plans,” I suggeste
d. “We won’t be able to carry the bag and climb the wall so we need to decide who’s carrying what.”
We dug out the supplies. There was a small plastic box containing various cutting tools, two new ropes still in their plastic wrap, a couple of those sucker things people use to lift sheet glass, four cans of revealer spray and crowbars of various sizes.
I ripped the plastic off the ropes. “We each carry one of these. Wrapped round the waist makes sense.”
Brian slipped his arm through the coil of rope and moved it up to his shoulder. “This is good too.”
“It limits your maneuverability, but it’s up to you.”
“One of the suckers and one of the cans each,” I suggested. “Open that tool box and take whatever you need in your pockets.”
Brian pulled a tool-belt out from the bottom of the bag where I hadn’t seen it. It was black like the bag and everything else. Even the cans were black.
“What about the crowbars?”
“Too difficult to carry. Dump them here with the other stuff we don’t need.”
Brian shook his head. “That box is in a security case. How are we going to get at it?”
“I’ve got a plan.” I said enigmatically. I didn’t want to reveal to Mike and Vinnie what I’d put in my pocket in the den.
Brian filled the belt with the tools from the plastic box. I doubted we’d need any of them except for the glass cutter, but what he carried was his choice.
“Time to go,” Mike said. Vinnie opened the door and checked the street. He stepped outside and motioned us to follow.
This part of the city was deserted at night. The moon lay hidden in black clouds. The street we walked was tree lined and the streetlamps were the fancy kind. I felt exposed as we walked the blocks between the garage and the museum. A couple of police cars cruised past us, but we were partially hidden by the trees and probably looked like business types on their way home after a late night. In any case, they didn’t stop and neither did we.
Vinnie and Mike certainly appeared to be business types in their Mafioso suits, though Vinnie’s limp might stick in somebody’s memory if the police found witnesses later.
The museum looked like a cathedral as we turned down a side street and saw it looming up in front of us. We were coming at it from the rear and there was a docking bay for trucks and some of those big green dumpsters. Spotlights lit the loading area like daylight and massive steel doors made access impossible unless you had a key or arrived in a tank.
The alley we planned to use to get to the roof was lit up as well. Fixed surveillance cameras mounted a dozen feet up viewed the alley in both directions. Each was positioned six feet or so in from the main roads. Both cameras angled down into the alley.
“If we go up on the wall behind the camera, we can only be seen by the other one.”
And if we climb real fast, the guards probably won’t see us,” Brian said and grinned at me again. “Even if they do, they probably won’t believe their eyes.”
The optimism of youth. I hoped he’d live long enough to learn better. Still it was a possibility, especially if the shift happened to be changing as we climbed.
Brian dropped the bag and grabbed the tool belt. I looped a rope about my middle. The two hoods watched us without saying a word.
“Better start your watches, kids,” Mike said as he looked at his own. “The shift change is taking place about now.”
I clicked the button on my watch, starting the countdown, and nodded.
“Don’t lose your heads,” Vinnie said cheerfully. Mike picked up our bag and started walking back the way they’d come.
“Ready?” I asked Brian.
I’d swear his eyes were shining with excitement. He nodded and ran at the wall. I cursed and chased after him.
There’s an art to running up a wall and I had never learned it. Strength and speed got me up to a window ledge on the second floor while wonder-boy was already on the roof. But I’d seen him do it and what I’ve seen I can figure out. A few moments later I was running up the wall ‘Brian style’ and loving every second of it.
“What kept you?” The boy was so impatient.
“That was truly cool. You have to keep your centre of gravity pushing you into the wall as you climb,” I observed. Brian didn’t seem impressed.
“Do you know where the skylight is?”
I overlaid the plans in my mind with what I could see. Though it was dark up there my night vision worked perfectly. More black and white than color, but you can’t have everything. “Follow me.”
I led us straight to the skylight, though we did have to dodge round some air-con towers and a couple of satellite dishes. Looking through it, I saw the Egyptian box in a glass case below us. According to the plans the case was bullet proof.
We got out our rubber suckers and fastened them to one of the smaller panes. It was still three feet long by four feet wide.
“Do your stuff with the class cutter.”
Brian scribed around the edges of the window. “It should break if I give it a good thump,” he said. I braced myself. It could be tricky to keep hold of the glass when it broke away. Brian gave the pane a good thump. Nothing happened.
“Try harder,” I suggested. I try to be helpful in these sorts of situations.
He hit it hard enough to shattered ordinary glass. Nothing happened.
I stood up, got him to stand out of the way and stamped on the pane hard enough to put a dent in a steel door. The glass starred a little around where I hit it. That was it.
“That’s some kind of toughened glass, the sort they put up on skyscrapers,” I said. “Even a sledge hammer wouldn’t go through it.”
“It didn’t say that on the diagram,” Brian complained. I consulted the plans in my head. It didn’t, but the paper looked smudged around the window outline.
“Looks like The Don kept a few secrets from us.”
Brian looked astonished, “Why would he do that?”
“The police know he has the plans,” I said patiently.
Brian shook his head. He was playing with the big boys now and they liked to keep their hands clean. A few things we didn’t know would establish The Don’s innocence.
“We could smash in a door. I knew we should have brought the crowbars.”
I shook my head and glanced at my watch. Fifteen minutes gone already. “Or we could use this.” I pulled out the timers and the two squares of high explosive I’d taken back at the den.
“One should take out the skylight leaving the other for the case the box is in.”
Brian looked at me in awe. “You’ve done this before,” he accused.
I didn’t know if that was true, but I was beginning to suspect it might be. I slapped the explosive onto the middle of the pane.
“We need to tie the ropes. When this goes up all the alarms in the museum are going to go off with it. We need to use the ropes to slide down to the floor.”
We found a chimney to hide behind and to tie the ropes to. I set the timer to ten seconds and pressed it into the explosive. A few seconds later a blast that left my ears ringing split the night.
I nudged Brian and we charged at the skylight, our ropes sliding through our hands. I let him jump first. In any case, he was a couple of feet ahead of me by the time we reached the skylight. Sliding down the ropes was fun, though I burnt my hands.
As my hearing recovered I heard the alarms. The steel shutters on the doors and windows that were supposed to protect the exhibit were currently protecting us. Until the guards could get them up again, that is.
I slapped the second explosive charge onto the lock mechanism of the case and we ran for cover. I must have punched in the wrong timing because the blast knocked us both off our feet and threw us against the wall. The world went blank as I slammed my head into stone.
Brian was shaking me. He had the box under his arm and he helped me to my feet. Silly boy, we were out of time. He should have left me and ran.
We stumble
d towards an exit. The steel shutters rose enough for a guard to get under it and start shooting at us. I couldn’t hear the bullets but I could see the barrel twitch. We stumbled through the exhibits, knocking priceless things over as we ran. All the shutters were opening, including those on the windows. The guards must have hit some super-override button. We were in a long gallery and there was a window at the very end.
I was starting to hear again. “Stop or we shoot!” was not helpful, especially when accompanied by the sounds of gunshots. I guessed they wanted us to stand still so they could get off some clean shots at us.
“Window,” I shouted and pulled myself from Brian’s grasp.
His face was covered in dust and it looked like he had a few bruises underneath. The damned kid smiled at me and my heart melted. Shit, I really liked this boy.
We zig-zagged down the gallery, Brian zigged when I zagged. Using all the speed our kind was blessed with, we hit the window together at maybe sixty miles an hour, feet first, and the glass shattered under our boots.
Then we were flying through the air across the gap between the buildings until we crashed into the wall on the far side. I clung on with my fingertips and saw Brian already sliding down the wall. I could smell the burning rubber of his boots. Damn, the kid was good. I followed him as best I could.
The cops saw us from the street and opened fire. Brian hid behind a dumpster bin and I followed. I took a quick look and a couple of bullets pinged into the side of the bin. The cops were moving up cautiously as they didn’t know we weren’t armed, willing to shoot at any target we presented.
“What now?” Brian asked. The box was on the ground next to his feet. I picked it up and memories flooded into me. I knew who I was, what the box was and what I had to do.
“Sorry, Brian,” I said sadly. Then I took on vampire form.
13. Death
I tapped Brian on the forehead and he fell to the ground. Not stunned, but hypnotized, one of a vampire’s most effective talents. According to my watch we had eleven minutes before the explosive collars blew our heads off. It was difficult to read the watch because vampires can’t read. They were almost as feral a breed as werewolves, the hunt and drinking warm blood were their only desires. It was difficult to think straight in vampire form.