The Off Limit Heist

2. Shadows in the Gallery

Chapter two

Shadows in the Gallery

L ucas

Tonight was the night. I felt my pulse quickening at the thought that I would get my hands on the ‘Eternal Lovers’, tucked away in the Northwest Exhibit Hall of Bartholdy.

The auction house’s encrypted access codes and pressurized nitrogen gas canisters presented a delicious challenge for later.

First, I had to tie this web together and get inside unseen. I cracked my knuckles and pulled up 3D interior renderings, mentally tracing pathways—air ducts, blind staircases, elevator shaft rappels? The server rooms provided tempting backdoors if I could override their biometric locks without detection first.

I traced a finger over crimson lines crisscrossing the Bartholdy floor plan.

I scratched notes on the gaps in tomorrow’s 2nd shift schedule while reviewing camera angles displayed on my dual monitors.

I had painstakingly tagged each camera's blind spots. I just needed to exploit one more vantage point so I could pinpoint the 29 second exposure window for the Operational Control Room that my plan required.

I looked again at the list of paintings currently left in Bartholdy’s custody. There was a list that would be auctioned off the following week, and another next week.

Any one of these paintings could easily go for a premium price. Maybe more in the black market.

But none of them concerned me. There was only one painting that had my attention—it was the reason for my heist, and the thought of having it in my hands made my heart race like a new lover. The ‘Eternal Lovers’ was all I wanted.

I took a quick sip from the coffee I held, scanning the auction haul specifications again with diamond-appraising intensity.

I smiled, visualizing my Plan B escape route if all else failed. I’d activate my rooftop bulletproof parasail at just the right southwesterly vector to silently coast me to glory.

Loading my grapple gun capsules with custom metal-shearing pitons, I slid in the encrypted keycard cloners.

The game was afoot and the ultimate prize awaited me—the ‘Eternal Lovers’.

I’d been commissioned by an unknown benefactor to steal this painting.

The client had commissioned me through an encrypted tape message for five million dollars if I could get in and get out without detection, and with the painting.

Stealing art had been my sole profession for years, and so far, I’d taken million dollar paintings from impenetrable auctions houses around the world, but no one ever offered me so much for a seemingly valueless piece.

Curiosity reasonably piqued, I decided to dig deeper.

It started with an innocuous detail—a tiny, almost imperceptible mark on the painting's lower corner that seemed out of place.

My instincts told me there was more to this than met the eye. Using high-resolution scans and some forensic software, I enhanced the image, revealing a pattern that resembled ancient cartographic symbols. This was my first real clue.

I delved into the darkest corners of the web, places where secrets were traded like commodities.

After days of searching and several anonymous transactions, I found an obscure forum dedicated to lost treasures.

Here, amongst the conspiracy theorists and amateur historians, I came across a thread discussing a series of paintings believed to be maps to hidden treasures.

One user mentioned a particular technique used by a secretive guild of cartographers in the 18th century—embedding maps within art pieces.

Then, late one night, I connected with a reclusive expert known only by the alias 'CartoPhile'.

He had access to rare manuscripts and documents, some thought to be long lost.

For a hefty fee, he provided me with a detailed analysis of the symbols I had found.

According to his research, the painting was part of a collection commissioned by a notorious pirate who had amassed a fortune worth hundreds of millions.

That’s when it dawned on me. This painting wasn't mere art; it was a meticulously crafted map.

The symbols had the potential to match locations, and subtle color variations could be hints at landmarks and paths known only to those with the key to decode them.

I only had to find a way to decode them and the potential treasure I could uncover would far outweigh the five million dollars offered for the painting.

So screw five million. I began to plan for the job, but now had the genius idea to keep the painting for myself and find this treasure it led to.

I was justified. I was a thief, after all. It came with the territory.

But there was something else that intrigued me. The icing on the cake would be outmaneuvering the security empire of the unbeatable Ms. Emelia Price herself on her home turf.

The word among close circles was that no one could penetrate any security system set up by Emelia.

The thrill lay not just in the fortune but in beating the architect at her own ornate game.

I pushed aside several photos I’d taken while staking the auction house, and pulled out the only photo of a person.

Lovely almond-shaped honey brown eyes stared back at me. They looked cool and calm in the photo, but I envisioned them turning to confusion when her supposedly impenetrable firewalls failed for the first time as I liberated my precious darling prizes!

I pointed gun barrel fingers at her face and pulled the trigger with my thumb. I blew the smoke away.

“I got you now, Emelia Price. Let the true chess match begin. Catch me if you can.”

The stage was set.

The following night, dressed in black, I crept toward the back of Bartholdy Auction House. Tonight was perfect for execution, as I let myself be enveloped in the moonless midnight shadows.

With a quick motion, I whipped out my custom grappling hook gun and fired it at the third-story gables. The sound was barely a whisper in the night.

My body surged upward, black rappelling gloves gripping the stonework until I executed a noiseless roll onto the sloped roof shingles.

I recalled the guard rotations from my earlier surveillance—I had exactly 67 seconds before the officer on duty stepped out for his smoke break and spotted me.

Moving quickly across the flat rooftop, I knelt at the iron ventilation grate.

My lock pick dispatched the screws in moments, and I deftly slid the grating aside, slipping feet-first into the vent's dark embrace.

In the pitch-black ducts, I relied on my heightened senses and memory of the duct schematics.

Silently, I counted each turn and junction, inching closer to my destination—the Northwest Exhibit Hall.

The air subtly changed, tinged with the scent of museum preservatives. I was close.

With meticulous care, I loosened and lowered a vent plate onto the exhibit floor.

Crouching behind a display case of jeweled Fabergé Eggs, I surveyed the hall.

There, seated as though on a throne, was a true prize: a rare Picasso canvas, bathed in a soft spotlight, waiting for its freedom. I walked over to it and stared. The essence of true beauty.

Alas, it was not the reason for my visit to this place tonight.

I checked my custom grappling jacket, ensuring the miniature pitons and glass cutters were ready.

My gaze lingered on a Van Gogh, its swirling brushstrokes a symphony of sunflowers dancing in the artificial light. "Lovely, old friend," I murmured, a smile playing on my lips, "but tonight's date is something altogether more... intriguing.”

With a practiced twirl, I bypassed the infrared laser grids like a waltzing butterfly. Years of honed reflexes and meticulous planning made this moment flow smoothly.

I navigated the maze with the confidence of a seasoned cave adventurer, my LED headlamp cutting through the gloom. Finally, I reached the vault—a steel fortress guarding the heart of the museum.

I pulled out a device and my fingers inserted memorized numbers and codes. The lock hissed open, revealing a treasure trove of priceless canvases, every one of them evidence of human genius.

But my eyes were drawn only to ‘The Eternal Lovers’. A canvas bathed in the ethereal glow of a strategically placed spotlight.

The woman's elongated neck and the man's piercing eyes seemed to hold a universe of secrets, a silent promise that ignited my adventurous spirit. Tonight, those secrets would be mine. In more ways than others ever imagined.

I touched the canvas with reverence, my fingertips tracing the cool contours of the painted lovers.

"You're the only Mona Lisa I need, my darling," I whispered, a playful twinkle in my eyes.

Then, with a swift, practiced motion, I extracted the painting from its frame, replacing it with a meticulous copy I'd had forged.

This had gone even smoother than I expected. I placed it in a case and turned to the door.

Suddenly the alarm shrieked, a banshee wail tearing through the silence.

Ah. Emelia Price.

But I wasn’t deterred. I chuckled at the setback, as the sound echoed through the vault like a mischievous gargoyle.

Encountering a challenge made the process all the more alluring. I wasn't here for a waltz; I was here for a pirouette.

As red alerts shrieked, halogen security lights blasted my vision. I swiftly strapped the bag holding the ‘Eternal Lovers’ over my shoulder just as three armed guards charged through the doorway, aiming Taser guns center at my chest.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!" the barrel-chested one barked.

I raised my palms slowly as if acquiescing, subtly pressing quick release on the cable anchors I’d fired to the ceiling rails.

"Stay where we can see you and step away from the display!" he warned. I could not suppress a grin since we all knew that was not happening.

With a final flourish, I triggered a smoke grenade, filling the room with a billowing cloud.

I sprinted directly at the glass display while the guards braced to shoot. At the last instant, I pushed off the floor into an aerial tumble, their Tasers missing me by an inch and shattering the glass just behind me.

The line pulled me up into the now exposed ceiling cavities, giddiness rising in my chest.

With no time to waste, I crawled rapidly through a lightless void toward the distant roof access, trusting my memory to navigate the passage maze.

Finding it at just the right moment, I slipped through a hidden escape hatch, the sounds of muffled pursuit fading into the distance.

I emerged from the museum into the cool night air. The city lights twinkled like diamonds scattered on velvet, a glittering backdrop for my victory.

I took a deep breath, the scent of freedom mingling with the faint aroma of oil paint.

Tonight, I wasn't just a thief; I was an artist, a maestro of the moonlight, a composer of chaos. And the ‘Eternal Lovers’ was my masterpiece.

I ran forward, my feet hammering against the rooftop gravel and the shrill sirens of security echoing in my ears.

The three guards would still be after me, but I was not concerned about them.

I had assessed the limitations of their training and knew they did not have the capacity to stop someone with my skill level.

With no one within ear shot, I ran until I reached the edge of the building. My hand gripped the grappling hook, ready to make my next daring leap.

As I launched the hook toward the adjacent high rise, a flash of movement caught my eye.

Standing in a wide arc between the buildings, I spotted her.

Emelia Price, renowned cryptographer, with her hair dancing in the night air, leaned against a rooftop entryway, her expression nothing but cool and calculating and her arms folded determinedly.

Her eyes were icy and, even though I had been impressed by her credentials, I was intrigued by her larger-than-life persona.

This was the woman who made auction houses impregnable and I had lured her out here with my heist. Confronting Bartholdy's cybersecurity genius had been unexpected, but was an occurrence I found exhilarating.

I landed skillfully, a broad smile on my face. "A pleasure to finally meet, Miss Price," I said, genuine admiration in my voice. "I’m a fan of your work—your algorithms have been an inspiration for my own coding."

Her eyes scanned me, a skeptic's precision in her gaze. She stepped forward and we walked round each other like two cats before they pounced.

"Not much of a student then, are you? Can’t say I’m impressed by your thieving skills. What kind of self-respecting infiltrator gets the cops summoned while he’s still in the building?" she quipped, gesturing to the approaching spotlights. "Amateur? Sloppy? Both if you ask me."

Her wit was as sharp as her reputation suggested. Despite the condescending tone, I laughed, delighted by this unexpected verbal sparring.

"Forgive the need for a hasty exit; the presence of your watchdogs accelerated my timetable," I retorted, the thrill of the chase now mixed with the excitement of this verbal duel.

We continued to walk in circles, each warily fixed on each other. "What brings Manhattan’s most reclusive cryptographic genius out on the rooftops tonight?"

Emelia's eyes narrowed, assessing my silhouette against the city glow. "I installed software to alert me of any coding outmatches. When a two-bit thief slipped past my encryption firewalls as easily as you did, my professional curiosity demanded I see your technique personally before you vanished into oblivion."

She took a step, closing some space between us. Adrenaline spiked in me instinctively.

There was a flick from her wrist. “Seeing you’re nothing but an arrogant amateur does nothing but wound my pride. But what really piques me is why target this portrait? There’s a Rembrandt inside worth 500 times more... Does the little thief have sentiments for eternal lovers, or are you just wildly incompetent?”

I laughed again at her confrontational daring. “Perhaps this ‘little’ thief savors the challenge of conquering the unbeatable Emelia Price’s impenetrable stronghold security just for sport. Tell me... was it thrilling to have your cocoon of cryptography split open for the first time tonight?"

I watched her face turn red. In an instant, Emelia sprang into action with a speed that caught me by surprise. One leg shot out at a perfect right angle, connecting with mine in a precise, forceful kick.

My legs swept out from under me, and I hit the ground hard, rolling instinctively to soften the impact.

Emelia's leg retracted, and she smoothly transitioned into a spinning heel kick aimed at my head.

Reacting quickly, I raised my forearms to block the strike, her heel slamming against my defense with a dull thud.

Undeterred, she dropped into a crouch and swept her other leg in a low arc, attempting to take out my stance.

I leapt over the sweeping kick, but she was already driving forward, her fist cutting through the air toward my jaw.

I managed to deflect the punch with a downward parry, but the force of her strike threw off my balance for a moment.

Emelia capitalized on my momentary lapse, delivering a sharp kick to my chest that sent me stumbling backwards.

As I regained my footing, she closed the distance between us, raining a flurry of punches.

I backpedaled, blocking and evading her relentless assault, not willing to hurt her by countering her blows.

Suddenly, a feinted jab from her left hand drew my attention, and her right fist slipped past my defenses, cracking against my jawline with a sickening impact.

Stars danced across my vision as I staggered, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.

Emelia stepped back, her stance still poised for combat, but she held her next attack, watching me warily as I shook off the stunning blow, refusing to press her advantage further.

Thinking this was my cue to get out of there, I lunged for the fallen painting case. But Emelia was quicker, her fingers closing around it before I could even touch it.

I stood, crossing my arms over my chest. Did she even know why she was taking the painting from me?

I watched as, with a fluid motion, she swung the case over one shoulder, then shot a cable from her wrist, clear across to the next building.

She stepped on the ledge and swung herself onto the zip line, the cable groaning under her weight.

As though reading my thoughts, she glanced back over her shoulder, her voice cutting through the cold night air. “I have a feeling there’s more to you than your intolerable incompetence. I also have a feeling that this painting has more significance than merely a sentimental piece for you, so I’ll just keep it. Consider this your one warning never to compromise my systems again!” Her tone was as sharp as the kick she had just delivered.

With a swift push, she launched herself into the night, zipping down the line at breakneck speed.

I sprinted to the ledge, watching her recede, her grapple device pulling her swiftly out of sight and her raven hair the last glimpse before she disappeared, leaving me absent of my prize.

I stroked my aching jaw where her boot had struck, realizing my ego was likely more bruised from the encounter. Still, I couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline.

Emelia Price was a worthy adversary, and her skills matched mine. The ‘Eternal Lovers’ might have eluded me this time, but our next encounter would be different. Next time, I’d be the one walking away with the prize.

Just then, I noticed a lone dark figure standing motionless in the far shadows, observing from one roof's edge.

Their coat fluttered in the wind as sirens drew near. How long had this silent watcher been there? Had he been tracking me all evening? All week? Since when?

I hesitated briefly, crouching as spotlights searched rooftops, seeking the invader. When I was in the shadows again, I straightened up, my eyes still on the man.

Had this mysterious observer influenced any part of my heist? Had the benefactor sent them to protect his investment? There was no time to contemplate with police choppers overhead.

I saluted my unknown watcher across the chasm and kicked off the ledge, sailing away into the night.

The wind was brisk against my face as I adjusted the straps on my wing suit.

My heart raced as I soared through the cool night air, the city lights now mere streaks of color against the canvas of the dark sky.

I glimpsed back once more only to find the rooftop now barren, the coat-cloaked shadow vanished.

I steered my flight, feeling the currents beneath my wing suit, navigating between skyscrapers and over the sprawling streets below.

I approached the landing with practiced ease, angling my body to minimize the impact. The moment my feet touched the ground, I rolled forward to absorb the remaining force.

Rising to my feet, I quickly stowed the wing suit into a compact backpack, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

I glanced around cautiously, ensuring no one had witnessed my unconventional descent.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, I slipped into the bustling streets, blending seamlessly with the crowd.

Several blocks away, police sirens wailed in the distance. I quickened my pace, disappearing into the maze of urban anonymity.

The scream of sirens amplified, echoing my mounting questions. What had been the real agenda behind the contract I’d been given to steal the ‘Eternal Lovers’? And perhaps more importantly, to what endgame?

Now I wanted the painting for myself even more.