BHABHAH A STORY I WROTE IN 8TH GRADE - Heist

CRINGE CRINGE I FOUND THIS BHABAHBAHBAHBAH I swear I had another narrative story I wrote but I don't know why it's not in my drive... I can't find it... but anyway here's this one. From 2017 bhHAHAHBAHAHAHA. I didn't even reread this right now... I can't...

This was 1000% inspired by my fav show Leverage. Might even be some plagiarism dare I say.

Heist

October 26th, 2008

In 3 days the Boston Museum of Fine Arts will open their new exhibit to show a red diamond necklace.

I've done some research, and found out it belongs to the man Bradley Moreau, a rich, powerful, and wrong man. It would be an easy con to perform though. I know he's keeping it down in his underground vault under the museum; I'm done prepping, and I’m ready to add it to my collection of stolen, earned, prizes.

I’ve memorized the whole map of the museum in this air vent and figured out Moreau’s sick security system for the vault; fingerprint access pad, randomized laser grips— which reset every 5 minutes, infrared detection, and vibration detection. Easy to disarm each one. It'll be like taking diamonds from the Louvre. Easy.

“Whoa”

I spun around in the vent, and there in front of me, was a skinny little 13 or 14 year old kid. I didn't know what to do… what the heck was a kid doing in an air vent? Look who's talking, you were in air vents when you were 8, I thought to myself.

“What are you doing here” I snapped quietly. I was so confused. I had no idea what to do in these types of situation. What are you even supposed to do?

“That's my question. Except I think I know why you are here; you're here to steal the necklace huh.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Listen kid, beat it, I don't have time to play with you.”

“So I was right!!” He whispered, smiling brightly but quickly changing his expression to distressed. “Help me.”

I just stared at this kid. He seemed intelligent, but he was asking me for help, knowing that I was a thief. A thief. Seeing my supplies next to me he could have probably figured out I was a con artist too.

“Alright, yeah I'm here to steal the necklace. I’m not going to let someone like you get in the way and ruin my plan.” I got ready to move on but he grabbed me by the arm.

“Please” He pleaded. “I need your help. I need you to steal the necklace back for me.”

“Back?” I raised an eyebrow. Even if he seemed legitimate, for me, my trust didn't come that easy to people.

“That necklace belonged to my father he—”

“The necklace belongs to Bradley Moreau, is that your father?”

“No, shut up will you? That necklace was my mother's… my father's most prized possession. Mr. Moreau asked him the other day if he could buy it, and I could tell he was upset when my father declined the offer. I think he was the one who organized the robbery at my house. A-and I’m sure. Please?” He stared at me with familiar eyes. It reminded me of those eyes I saw when I looked into mirror after I ran away from “home”.

“Kid, if your father is such a rich person why can't he get it back himself?” I questioned, ignoring the fact that he told me to shut up.

“First of all, I’m not a kid, and my name is Wyatt. My dad can't do anything right now. Mr. Moreau made sure he can’t do anything; he's blocked him from every system and he's been framed for attempting to steal the necklace from him. You don't understand, Mr. Moreau is a scary man; he's done way more sick things than this.”

He was right, he was a scary man. And I didn't like him. He reminded my of my foster father….mean, cruel, and unfair.

“And if I refuse to help you?”

“I'll tell on ya.” He said, sticking his tongue out.

I gave him a straight face. I thought about it...it shouldn’t be too bad to help him... but…. did I want to take the necklace for myself or did I want to take it for him….

“All I could ask for is that necklace. I just want to get it back for my dad. It's the only thing that my mom left us….” His voice cracked when he said “mom”. That brought back nostalgia of when my only belongings of my mom and dad were taken away from me. I know what he felt.

“I can be useful for hacking into the museum's security system, that's all I can do…” He continued. “I’m not capable for doing anything else…actually, I don’t even know why I thought I could make my dad happy.” He looked down sadly.

I felt a certain rush of pity. I told him he was wrong. I knew if he could hack he could do so much more. “You’re useful alright? You are capable. So capable. Don't think anything else... look, I was planning to steal the necklace before opening day. We’re gonna have to get revenge, so, change of plans.”

“Revenge?”

“We ruin him. His reputation.”

With Wyatt’s knowledge of the museum and with the system, stealing the necklace just got easier. Tonight the museum was hosting a party too. Perfect.

After I introduced myself to him, we went straight to work. As the party started I ordered him to get a glass of ice, a roll of tinfoil, chewed gum, and, a cloth.

He didn't question me, and just watched curiously as we went into the hallway to the basement. I took on the identity of a french art curator and I told him to lean against the door. I told him to act like he was playing around and like I was telling him to stop. Opening the door triggered the silent alarm and the security that came running just told me to control him. After they left we ran into though the door to the vault.

Using eyeshadow I brushed the pad, using the cloth to push against the scanner. I quickly made a cup out of tin foil and put the ice inside, sticking the gum onto it. Wyatt climbed up the cabinets to stick it on the infrared detector, so it wouldn't detect out body heat. Then I carefully flipped over the lasers on the floor in front of me and stopped in the middle of the room, tearing and folding more foil. I placed them onto the ground carefully.

“Ay, ay Jackie what are you doing? Just know I’m running if you set a laser off. I’ll be out quicker than you know it!” Wyatt said, worried.

He stopped fussing when he realized I was using the foil to reflect the lasers back. I then quickly but carefully pushed the foil to the table where the diamond necklace was placed.

“Wyatt, can you set off all the car alarms in the parking lot or no?” I asked, hoping he was a really really skilled hacker. Strangely, I trusted him.

“Uhhh, yeah I could.. Hold up.” He took out his phone and did some technical stuff that I had no knowledge about. I silently cheered when I heard the alarms. Taking out the replica necklace that I had in my collection, knowing that it would come in handy in the future, I quickly replaced it with the real one.

“Security is going to see the car alarms and will think it's just earthquakes. They’ll ignore the vibration detector then,” I later told him, as we walked out onto the room.

He just stared at me quietly.

“What?” I asked, looking out at the view. Before he said it I stopped him. “No, you're not getting the necklace yet. We’re going to ruin Moreau , which means this job isn't over.”

“But… okay well what's the plan from here then?” I could tell he was getting impatient.

I yawned. “Meet me back here tomorrow, ez time for sleepy sleep.” I waved him away, walking toward the air vents.

The next day, before the sun set and started the new day, we met up and I told him what I thought about though the night. I didn't tell him that part.

“I come to him as the french curator, I'll ask if he could sell me the necklace he has, which is fake, for a trade with one of my ‘artifacts’.” I said, holding up a small but very valuable statue, exclusively from my collection.“Which he will, because money and value will be the motivation. Then let him put the necklace on display as he planned, and when it's discovered that the one he has is a fake, he’ll be ruined. Before he displays it, he’ll obviously put it though other curators and inspectors to check if your necklace is real. For that part, to make a trust bond, I, as a curator, would go and check it though his own inspector first. I switch it with the fake again when I go to Moreau so he could go with his plan. No one will trust him again after that ‘mistake’… annnnddd this will all go down on opening day.” Wyatt just gave me the same look that told me I was crazy; I could tell he didn't really get it.

“Okay.. well then who would he ask to examine the diamond? Who would he call?”

“Ghostbusters!” I sang. He punched me and paced around, thinking.

“Wyatt, I know who he'd call. I got that covered.” I assured him.

“Who--- How?”

“I’m a thief. I know everything.”

“No idiot, like, how is it covered?”

I laughed. “Well…. I already finished half of the plan myself. I met with his inspetor last night with my identity already in place and stuff … and he signed a document that showed that it was really real, but he just didn't shut up about the necklace and about diamonds.” I recalled how it was just 5 hours ago when I asked him if the handkerchief smelled like chloroform, and how I just shoved it into his face so he could check.

He looked at me speechless.

“What? He woke up in like 3 hours. Plus I got the authentication.” I shrugged, smiling. “He didn't remember anything, just remembered checking and signing the paper. Perfect alibi.” I grinned in satisfaction. I then clapped to get him out of his daze.

“You make a passage to the vault right above the new exhibit. That’s where you do your alien stuff. Don’t question me.” We both found the room right above the exhibit.

I pushed him aside and unlocked the lock on a door in a second.

“Picking locks huh.” he observed, bringing his bag with his computer and all that tech stuff.

We scattered from there. Mr. Moreau was welcoming again, but suspicious. The meeting took longer because he called his inspector to double check; again, perfect alibi. He trusted me fully then, and my identity as an french curator helped me insure that trust. I quickly switched the necklaces. Things all fell into place.

In the basement, Wyatt and I then discussed the plan and waited patiently for the fake necklace to be displayed in the exhibit. The display with the humidity and temperature sensors would be in the middle of the room with the Moreau’s client’s valuable paintings lined on the walls. The main lights on the necklace, the main attraction: our goal. Knowing this, Wyatt left to go home and to return in the morning.

I felt bad in a way, because I was lying to Wyatt. I wanted much more.

Forever and Always,

Jackie

October 28th, 2008

We went straight to work when the new exhibit opened.

Wyatt hacked into the security system and monitored it as I went out to congratulate Moreau .

“Monsieur, congratulations!! Money is coming easy for you as usual.” I said, in my french accent, smiling. I stared at the display for a moment to capture the beauty of it. Bright red, shimmering, and beautiful… even if it was a fake. We had a conversation for about a minute until the display filled with a cloudy white gas. Yes!

“Oh my god!! What's happening?” A woman yelled.

We spun around to the sight. The necklace inside wasn't visible.

“We need to evacuate the exhibit!” A professor yelled. “Its protocol, a mysterious gas has appeared and who says that it can't be a chemical attack?” He created panic with those words, which was just what I needed. Everyone was screaming and running toward the exit then.

“I’m not leaving!” Moreau boomed.” I don't even know if the necklace is in there or not!”

“I see what's happening… SECURITY!!” He yelled; ordering the men to gather everyone in the front, he figured out it was a robbery. Buttttt, he messed up. He stepped out the building, forgetting that I wasn't behind him. I kicked the couch seat when the museum door closed. That was the signal for Wyatt to turn on lockdown, which locked Moreau out of the museum, and which triggered all the doors and windows to come down and shut down everything, blocking every entrance and exit. With nothing to disturb me, I went to work. For his age, Wyatt truly was a really good hacker.

It was about half an hour before his men took back control of the system, but I had already won. I sat in front of the necklace’s display, my back leaned against it as Moreau and his men ran into the room.

“Monsieur, you seemed to have left me here.” I smirked.

The lights turned on then and presented the sight.

“W--where are all the paintings?!” he exclaimed.

“Mon mon! Ze paintings are missing!” I gasped, looking around.

I stood up, trying to contain my laughter.

Furious, he took a gun from his men and pointed it at me.

“Where are they??” His men were tense, as they knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. He clicked the gun, and that made me get mad. I quickly took the gun from him and threw it across the room in anger. His men were backing off, but they were calling for more reinforcements.

“Now, what would all of your clients say of they found out that you lost all of their paintings that they had lended to you? Many will surely sue… maybe you'll lose your job…. You’d definitely lose your reputation.” I said, in my normal voice.

“At least you'll be going to jail.” He laughed slyly, sweating like crazy.

“Jail? Vous êtes assez jokester, funny funny, I’m not going to jail, for I did not commit any crimes.” I returned back to my accent, shrugging.

The police started to fill the room, pushing his men aside.

“Yes! Its her! She stole them! The—” He got cut off as the police grabbed him and pinned him against the bare walls.

“Bradley Moreau, you're under arrest.”

“Me? And for what do you think you are arresting me for?!” he exclaimed

“Fraud. And oh, why not for theft too?” The man cuffing him replied. Moreau was bewildered.

“Mon mon, trying to sell me a fake diamond necklace?” I shook my head, tapping the glass displaying the fake. “ Don't think I didn't inspect the necklace myself, with my ‘own people’, who wouldn't ‘lie for a deal’.”

I made my way out but stopped next to him. “You can’t do anything; you’re blocked from every system, and you’ve stolen the necklace from the wrong person… ” I whispered, into his ear. His reaction showed that he knew what I was talking about. I smiled and walked out, making my way to the basement.

“What did you do with the paintings? That wasn't the plan!” Wyatt demanded, as he saw me.

“I had half an hour. They’re all stored in his now open vault. I made it seem like he was planning to sell them. I didn't take them for myself!” I assured him, seeing the look on his face.

I pulled out the necklace and his relieved face blew up in excitement and happiness.

“Thank you so much, Jackie!”

It was real nice to hear my name. My real name. Not an identity’s name. It was nice to hear my name in such a caring way after so long.

He smiled brightly as he held up his father’s necklace up, as if it was an award.

He was going to introduce me to his father, but I told him it was fine. He wanted to call his father at least, and when he did I took that moment to get out of there; telling him not be be like me. Even if he was capable of being a thief or a hacker, I didn't want him to live a life like me. That's what I made him promise me. He had his dad, and I wanted him to value his time with him. And if he lost him one day, he has to look at the good, not the bad…. Not everyone in this world is so bad... that you need to be bad yourself.

I’m still a thief.

I need to keep going-- I am going to keep going. Maybe not for much for what I need, but maybe stealing for what others need.

Forever and Always,

Jackie