Story #172 - Theifed

Theifed

“Don’t tempt me.” The gun wavered only inches from my head, and I could see that the man holding it meant business.

Up until five minutes ago, we’d been thick as thieves. The fact that we were thieves, and good ones, rather complicated the matter.

***

24 Hours Ago

It wasn’t as though I’d planned for any of this to happen. That in itself was strange; I’d always taken great pains to make sure that everything I did had a logical set of steps, and came to an almost forgone conclusion. It was a good way to live as a thief – and kept the chances that I would be killed to a minimum.

Now, on what was supposed to be best job Sammy and I had ever pulled, I’d gone and screwed everything up. I’d known from the beginning that this heist was going to be a bad idea, but this was something that Sammy had wanted for a long time, and he’d done more than enough for me.

Europe and its institutions were old, and in many cases very rich, but those that owned their assets had ways of making thieves disappear without legal actions or trials. Riverboats and sinking bodies were more their style.

A bank in France was the target, one that had been used by British businessmen and prospectors in the late 40’s. Thanks to a comedy of errors, most of those who knew anything about the gold stored inside the vault had passed away, and those that were left had no intention of accessing it any point in the near future.

Except, of course, for us.

Sammy’s plan was nothing short of brilliant, and I could find no flaw in his methodology, execution, or the extraction route he had planned, but I’d had a bad feeling about the whole endeavor since the plane touched down.

My partner had tried to tell me it was simply because we’d never had a score this big, and that I was reluctant to give up control of our operation to him. I’d smiled tolerantly but refused to say anything committal – it was my emotions that weren’t matching up, and they weren’t something that Sammy needed to know anything about.

It had all gone to plan for the first week we were in town. Sammy spoke French fluently, and we’d been able to get everything we needed in a matter of days. The crew we’d hired to do the pre-work for our break-in had done their jobs flawlessly, and as far as we could tell were none the wiser.

Sammy and I weren’t killers by nature, but we’d both silenced a few loud talkers after they’d found out too much about our operations. We weren’t bad men, all told, but we weren’t about to go to jail, either.

It was a chance encounter on the street four days ago that sent everything spiraling out of control, that made the possibility of jail something I’d finally have to face, at least if I wanted her in my life.

Now, running through the final checks with Sammy at my side, I’m distracted, disinterested in what will keep us alive and un-captured during the next day. He knows something is wrong with me, but isn’t about to say anything. Good, sensible Sammy, with his too-sharp eyes and his too-big smile. He should really ask what’s wrong.

But he won’t.

***

Two hours ago.

I had to do it.

She loves me, I’m sure of it, and I love her too.

I’d spilled out my heart during one humid night in her apartment, and though she said she’d be willing to let it all go and run away with me, she needed to know that I was finished before that could happen. Keeping my mouth shut up about my current job in the city took everything I had, and I felt physically ill knowing I was lying to her.

I just couldn’t do it.

An anonymous tip to the local police put my mind at ease. I couldn’t stop Sammy – he earned his payday, but that didn’t mean I had to share in it. By giving the police information that would lead them to the scene of the crime after it had been committed, I could take the blame by “injuring” myself and letting Sammy go on ahead. He knew the thieves code, and he’d leave me behind if it looked like I couldn’t keep up.

He’d get his money, I’d get some jail time, but eventually, I’d get the girl and still have a clear conscience.

“Ready?” Sammy asked me, his eyes bright in the lamplight. The sewers underneath the bank smelled phenomenally bad, but that couldn’t damped my partner’s enthusiasm.

I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

A quick tap from Sammy’s hammer broke the per-arranged spot in the bricks above, and thanks to the work of our hired sewage repair crew, only a small amount of red dust showered down onto us.

We were in.

***

“I had to do it, Sammy!” I screamed. “She loves me!”

Sammy barked a laugh, and gun dropped for a moment. The alarms were sounding, now – my partner would be lucky to get out with his life. Apparently the police in the area were more zealous than I’d given them credit for, and had arrived earlier than I expected.

“She’s the commissioner’s daughter, you moron!”

I felt my stomach twist. She hadn’t said anything of the sort, and obviously Sammy had been watching me. This was all going wrong.

“Go, Sammy! Go!” My partner hesitated, his finger hesitating just outside the trigger guard on the pistol, but finally he threw the gun to the ground and ran. As he moved away, I began making as much noise as possible, hoping to draw the police to me. Once I was in custody, they would be delayed long enough that Sammy could get away. At least one of us would be free.

I couldn’t be sure if Sammy was telling the truth about her, but the unthinkable might have happened. She might have stolen the only thing I kept hidden, and abandoned me once she had no use for it.

I might have been thiefed.

- D