A heist story

An interesting subgenre of crime is the heist story – think of the Wyatt novels, or The Italian Job (particularly the original one with Michael Caine). In a fit of avoiding that damn butterfly, I tried my hand at a flash fiction heist story… and here it is

A is for alarm…

Which frankly, can be a problem for sensitive ears when they go off. Particularly if that happens to be just as you are opening someone else’s door. A jewellery shop door, to be precise.

B is for burglary…

The technical term for breaking and entering. And will someone do something about that damn alarm?

C is for cop cars…

Which no doubt are spinning their wheels and gunning their engines in their haste to come here and look at me breaking and entering and setting off alarms.

D is for diamonds…

Which were supposed to be on the other side of this door. The door with the alarm. The door which I was told did not have an alarm.

E is for exit…

Stage right. Feet, do your thing!

F is for truck…

Actually, for a word that sounds like truck but I’m already in enough trouble and kids might read this.

G is for guard…

And also for his best friend, German Shepherd…

Which have *ahem* trucking big teeth.

H is for ‘how the hell did I get into this?’

Actually I don’t need to ask. Freddy the Fence gave me the tip on this place, and promised ten grand in small used notes if I got the satchel of sparklers.

I is for idiot…

That would be me. Next time I do my own homework on a job and don’t trust someone with the name ‘Freddy’. Particularly when it comes to alarm schematics.

J is for jump…

Right over this perimeter fence. Lucky I’m still in shape, and that damn dog can’t climb fences.

K is for kick…

Just like that security guard just did. Kicked a panel clean out of the fence and let his dog through.

L is for lungs…

They’re burning. I might be in shape but sprinting and jumping fences while being chased by a dog the size of a bus is not my idea of a good time. It isn’t, really. Stop looking at me like that!

M is for my BUTT…

The dog just bit me on my BUTT! I think I just lost the pocket off the back of my jeans! It’s funny, my lungs don’t hurt anymore, and I think I just broke the sound barrier.

N is for Nissan…

Which is my car. Conveniently parked in the shadows just here. Keyless entry is a wonderful invention, and now I am safe inside, and rover the butt-biting pocket shredding *ahem* trucker is futilely barking at my window.

O is for… well, it is IN ‘donut’

Which is what I did when I dropped the clutch and shoved the pedal not just to the metal but clean through the firewall. A murky grey cloud of tire smoke was all the guard saw of my car, and even if he did somehow get the number plate, it didn’t matter – I borrowed it off a council bus.

P is for pain…

I think my butt might be bleeding on my car seat covers. My wife will not be happy about that.

Q is for quiet…

Quietly drive away. Don’t attract attention, don’t do anything silly. Cops only pay attention to people doing silly things, especially when they are on the way to break and enters. Break and enters with alarms. Alarms that I didn’t get told about.

R is for revenge…

Freddy and I are going to have a little chat. Actually, there won’t be much conversation, not a lot of need for talking. He’s going to get the message, one way or another.

S is for setup…

I was set up.  I was meant to trigger the alarm. I was meant to draw off the guard and his dog. While I am ducking and weaving all over town, someone else is probably inside that place right now, lifting the satchel of sparklers. Which means that S is also for sucker…

T is for tables…

Which I am going to turn. Driving carefully I return to the scene of the crime. That is what criminals do isn’t it? And look at that – running out the door that I went to all the trouble of opening, is a little ferret faced guy, holding a satchel. A satchel full of my diamonds, undoubtedly.

U is for eunuch…

Oh I know, don’t pick on me. Eunuch starts with an ‘e’. But ferret face here probably doesn’t know that, and the knife I am holding between his legs kinda has all his attention anyway. The satchel comes off his shoulder easily, just like I expected it was not very heavy. A few hundred grand in diamonds doesn’t weigh much.

V is for victory…

Vae Victus, dude.

W is for wave…

I wave goodbye to ferret face. I’m not using all my fingers.

 X is for X-ray…

Which is how you prove the diamonds are real.

Y is for yell…

When I realise that they are fakes.

Z is for Zzzzzz

What I should have been doing all night instead of trying to make crime pay.

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