Mat

Golden Opportunity

By me

“You know,” panted Jackson. “I think you should give this job a shot once in a while.” He stopped at a corner- making sure to stay away from the illumination of the streetlights- and put his hands on his knees. The moment of rest was fated to be short lived, unfortunately, since Jackson was already behind their set schedule.

“Nonsense,” came the crackling reply, spoken through an earpiece. “Why switch if you’re so good at it?”

Because it’s so blasted tiring. But Jackson didn’t say that. He stood up and resumed his jog, pressing a hand to his ear to keep the earpiece steady. His other hand held the strap to a backpack, one that was heavy enough to be a burden. A necessary burden, but a burden nonetheless.

If he was too nice to tell the truth, what could he say? Logic. Jackson decided. The tactic was usually ineffective against his partner, but it was always worth a shot.

“Why switch?” Jackson began as he sprinted down another alleyway. His erratic path to his destination hadn’t been his idea, but his partner had insisted that it would rid him of any tails he might have picked up. Like anyone would tail him, of all people. There had to be hundreds of others on the streets tonight. “Because you’re the one who played football in college, Gaines. I was just the computer nerd.”

“We were both computer nerds.” Gaines pointed out. “My degree in Computer Science is hanging on the wall right there.” Jackson snorted. He was quite certain that both of their degrees had found the trash can many years ago. “I just had a side hobby.”

That ‘side hobby’ had overtaken Gaines’s schedule, if Jackson recalled correctly, but bringing that up would be splitting ends. “So what? You’re clearly the athletic one.” Jackson reached another corner and took the opportunity to lean against the wall. I should have brought a water bottle. Why didn’t I bring a water bottle?

“I’m also too smart to let myself into the field. Keep going, Jackson, you’re almost there.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. Classic move from Amari Gaines; changing the subject. Alongside a sly reminder of the GPS tracker in his shoe that was connected to Gaines’s phone. “What did I say about that name?”

Gaines’s reply was swift in coming. “I am not calling you Jackhammer.”

“Why not?” Jackson protested. “We need code names. If you’re so worried about someone tailing me, you should be worried about our comm lines being compromised just as much.”

Gaines sighed, a sound that didn’t transfer too well through the line, coming across as more of a cough. “I’ve told you a million times, this is a private line that I’ve encrypted, it’s completely secure.” He was silent for a short while. “Besides, Jackhammer is a dumb name.”

“We are not starting that again.” Jackson said.

 “Would you rather I call you Levi?”

Jackson ground his teeth together at the mention of his first name. Gaines knew full well the answer to that question.

Gaines sighed again. “Just get going. We don’t want to miss this. Need I remind you, it’ll be the best score of our lives.”

Of course he knew this was the biggest score of his life. Sure, he and Gaines had done a few other jobs over the years, but absolutely nothing came remotely close to this. He couldn’t afford to mess this up for either of their sakes. Regardless of how blasted annoying his partner could be.

Jackson took a deep breath, then resumed his jog. It quickly slowed to a walk, though, since Gaines was correct- he was close. Best to be safe.

“Walk quieter.” Gaines advised. “Breathe silently. If you have to speak to me, whisper.”

He must think I’m a little kid. Jackson thought. But no. Gaines was just as anxious to get this job done with as he was.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the slight buzzing of the comms in his ears and his light footsteps on the gravel. Then he stopped as his destination came into view.

The warehouse was shorter than most of the buildings around it, even in the lesser section of New York. It was, as expected, surrounded by a tall stone fence- more like an impenetrable wall, really- that was topped with swirls of barbed wire. Though, as Jackson examined the way the moonlight glinted off of the sharp ends of the wire, he noted that ‘swirls’ was a poor choice of words. The wire didn’t swirl so much as it… constricted.

More importantly, however, were the small red lights blinking atop each fence post. Those were unexpected.

"Gaines!" Jackson hissed, placing a hand to his ear even though the gesture was unnecessary for communication. “How bout those cameras?”

“Working on it.” Gaines drew out the syllables as he spoke, the way he always did while talking and hacking simultaneously. A few precious minutes ticked by in silence, and Jackson grew impatient. He could have coded away those cameras by now. Yet another reason he should be behind the desk while Gaines ran his butt off in the dark.

“How about that?” Gaines asked.

Jackson looked up at the red lights, which were still blinking. “Try again.”

Some cursing came through the line, not quite as muffled as Jackson preferred. Gaines had often remarked about Jackson’s weak swearing tolerance not really being in accordance with their line of work, but Jackson liked to run a clean ship. Even if that ship tended to be a pirate ship.

Finally, the lights went dim. “Got it.” Jackson said, creeping forward. “On my way in.”

“Not so fast.” Gaines cautioned. “There might be a form of security we don’t know about.”

Jackson stopped dead. “You tell me this now? I thought you were sure!” Him and Gaines had spent the last few weeks researching and planning for this job, and they had been very thorough. This warehouse wasn’t a spot that was commonly known- it was off the grid and low-key, used to store the kinds of items that were too valuable to house in the main warehouses the museum rented out. It was Jackson who had discovered the existence of the warehouse, a fact he thought Gaines often forgot. From the few reconnaissance trips they had done Jackson had been quite sure that the only obstacles the building provided were the cameras and the wire- apparently, being ‘unknown’ was a reason for lower security.

It hadn’t been that hard to find. Just a few searches on the dark web was all.

“I am sure, just- be careful.” Gaines sounded nervous, though whether for him or for the job he wasn’t sure. “I’m sure it’s fine. Stick to the plan.”

Oh, now you’re sure. Jackson thought. Easy for you to say, all safe in your chair. But he continued forward, towards the front gate.

As he walked, he thought he saw movement to his left, right in his peripherals. Jackson froze, whipping his head to the side, but all he saw was a darkened alleyway. A chill ran down his spine. If he really was being tailed…

“Mrow?”

Jackson nearly jumped out of his skin. A cat started up at him, just off to his right, up against the fence. It was orangey-brown, but it still managed to blend in against the stone.

A cat, Jackson. Spooked by a cat. He cautiously moved forward, hoping to scare it away or at least get it to stop making noise. He reached a hand out and it scampered away, giving a final ‘Mrow’ as it went.

Jackson sighed. At least it wasn’t a tail. Though cats do have tails.

He had bigger problems, though. For he had reached the gate.

In theory, it wouldn’t be a problem, but in this line of work theories were often just that. Still, sticking to the plan was likely the best solution, if not a particularly elegant one.

Crouching down, Jackson removed his backpack and set it on the gravel. He unzipped the main pocket but not before massaging his shoulders, which felt much better now that they were free. It was the kind of relief Jackson didn’t know he had needed until taking the pack off.

Jackson removed the first item in the pack- a car jack. A small one, since it had to fit in the pack, but it was still blasted heavy. A crowbar followed it, similarly small in size. Together the two items made up most of the pack’s weight.

The gate to the warehouse was one of the mechanically run ones, made of two metal sliding doors that only parted to the secret number code. Unfortunately they hadn’t been able to learn the combination, but since Gaines had disabled their security this should also work.

Moving as quickly as he could while still keeping quiet, Jackson stuck the crowbar into the space between the gates and heaved, pulling them as far apart as he could manage and grunting from the effort. He used his feet to maneuver the car jack in between the gates and once it was in place he released them, gasping. The jack held the gates apart beautifully.

That had probably been the part Jackson was most nervous about, so he was glad it had gone as smoothly as Gaines had intended. Examining the gap, Jackson decided he only needed to crank the jack once to get the gates far apart enough to squeeze through, and he did so with yet more physical exertion. Next time, I’m definitely making Gaines do this part.

Jackson hopped over the car jack and into the warehouse grounds, then realized that he had forgotten his pack. He sighed, then went to retrieve it.

“How’s it going?” Gaines’s voice came as a surprise to Jackson; he had evidently been lost in the moment.

“I’m in.” Jackson said, now focusing on the truck parked to the side of the warehouse. The final obstacle.

“Into the truck or just past the fence?”

“Working on the truck. The jack functioned as planned.”

“Perfect. Keep at it.” Gaines went silent. Good talk.

Jackson reached the back of the vehicle, one similar in design to a small moving truck, and took the final item from his bag- handheld metal and bolt cutters. Jackson knelt and found the lock to the sliding door that led into the back of the truck, and couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of the removal of it. There really is no security here. Amazing how the false idea of secrecy can blind you.

Jackson slid open the door, cringing at the creak it made. He stepped up into the truck and immediately started searching, but he didn’t really need to- there was only one item in the truck, and it was in the exact center, covered by a tarp. Jackson ran over and ripped the tarp off, and broke into a true smile as the ugly face of Anubis stared back at him.

Jackhammer, you genius, you did it.

“Bingo.” He whispered.

“Did you find it? Do you have it?” Gaines sounded awfully impatient, but Jackson didn’t particularly care. He was too busy rubbing the obsidian eyes, examining the amethyst teeth, and drinking in the glory of the moment to care.

Work first, revel later. He reminded himself. He didn’t have it yet. Jackson set down his pack and hefted the statue in, gasping at the weight. “Crap!” he stammered. “That thing is blasted heavy!”

“It’s eighteen inches of solid gold, genius.” Gaines sarcastically remarked. “Of course it’s heavy. Now move.”

Jackson zipped up the god of death and heaved up his pack, though it was much heavier than before. He wasn’t sure if the straps would support the weight, but he’d have to hope so.

“New York is going to be disappointed when their big statue reveal doesn’t pan out.” Jackson snickered. “What’ll go in the museum now?”

“Move.” Gaines insisted.

“Alright, alright.” Jackson said, then hopped down out of the truck. “But just think! Two million dollars!”

“More than that.” Gaines said. “That’s just the base value, not factoring in the uniqueness and age of the artifact.”

Jackson’s smile somehow grew wider. Fantastic! Though he had to tote this thing back first, a job which was proving to be much harder than he had thought. He moved as quick as he could manage, stepping over the car jack and moving into the shadows. For a moment he debated retrieving his tools, but that could be done later tonight. Now that he had the statue, he couldn’t afford to juggle other heavy items with it.

As Jackson moved, he was constantly on edge, as he always was on the way out of a heist. All things considered, it hadn’t been too hard of a steal, but that was thanks to the New York Museum’s pride in their own secrecy. This would be a valuable lesson for them. And an incredibly valuable statue for me!

As he rounded the last corners, approaching the rendezvous apartment, Jackson’s mind began to wander, imagining all the things he would do with his share of the prize. He could travel the world, buy anything he wanted. Live the dream! The statue’s weight seemed to grow lighter with each step he took towards victory.

His face hit the dirt, shooting pain past his eyeballs. He had been hit from behind, a cheap shot! Jackson gasped as the weight of the statue was ripped off of his back. No! What?

He struggled to his feet only to be decked in the face with a clean punch that knocked a few teeth out. Jackson grunted at the pain as he tried to reorient himself and figure out what in the devil was going on.

“Jackson? Everything alright?” Gaines’s voice wasn’t in as much panic as Jackson felt, though Gaines had no way of knowing the severity of the situation, only being able to gauge it by Jackson’s grunts.

Jackson couldn’t reply. His vision blurred as he was shoved against the wall, and he fell to his knees. Hot breath touched his ear as a snide voice whispered words that would haunt Jackson the rest of his life.

“Thanks for doing the hard part for us.”

Jackson couldn’t watch as the men who had ambushed him made off with his prize. He had been stolen from moments after stealing. Conned just minutes after conning.

Jackson didn’t know what to do, so he just sat there. Staring into the distance. Ignoring Gaines’s increasing flow of questions.

His golden opportunity had been dashed, and nothing could be done to reclaim it.