I am coming out of retirement to work on my writing skills. They've gotten kind of rusty so I figured I'd come back and get the creative juices flowing. This is a nice story. It's different from anything I've done, especially my last big one The Stranger. In this one Zack and Cody find their personal heroes in a federal agent and the notorious thief he's tracking. One boy connects with the fed and the other connects with the thief. Enjoy. And let me know what you think. Chapter one is a little slow so bear with me. Lots of talking in this story too.

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING

Chapter 1 The Fed and the Thief

Moseby looked out at the falling snow as it covered Boston in a blanket of white. The city was fast asleep and Moseby sighed as he took a sip of coffee. The FBI had sent an agent over on the red eye to begin security procedures for the display. The Tipton was hosting an exhibit of artifacts and jewels and the main exhibit was one of the worlds most rare diamonds. Discovered years ago among the collections of a private owner the diamond had been traced back all the way to the 1400s'. Historians believed it came from somewhere in central Europe although it was hard to tell. Even it was that meant it was mined somewhere else and that was hard to trace. So the whole origin was a mystery. Hence the name, The Enigma Diamond.

Moseby went over to the door as the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel. The man who got out was tall and well dressed. His jet black hair was slicked back and his eyes were a sharp blue.

"Agent Driscoll?" asked Moseby as he opened the door. Norman the doorman had long since gone home. Special agent Jim Driscoll turned towards Moseby.

"Yes. Jim Driscoll." He showed his badge and got his cars out of the trunk. Moseby helped him and Jim tipped the driver and sent him on his way. Jim checked his watch. 1:45 in the morning. The diamond was arriving in a little more then twelve hours.

"We have a room all ready for you, Agent Driscoll," explained Moseby as they walked into the lobby.

"Nice place," replied Jim as Moseby went behind the desk. He let Moseby do his thing. He was used to this. Hotels were his life. Going from city to city on different cases. His idea of home was the deluxe club at an airport.

"I sent over a security layout. Did it arrive?" asked Jim, as he signed a form Moseby handed to him.

"Yes. I gave it to our head of security and he has everything set up," explained Moseby. He sighed.

"I have to ask. Why are the FBI sending someone out for security of an opening? Can't the Boston PD do this?" asked Moseby. Jim smiled.

"I guess it's time you hear it. There's a thief out there. The best in the business. We call him The Ghost. I've been tracking this guy for years. He has never been caught. Never been seen, never been stopped."

"And you think he'll go after the diamond?" asked Moseby.

"He's hit sixteen Tiptons in the past five years. He stole five million dollars worth of jewels from a Tipton in Milan," explained Jim. Moseby groaned.

"Oh, I remember that. Mr. Tipton was worried we'd go out of business. Where else as he hit?"
"Pretty much all the major heists at your hotels. He likes to work mostly in the states. New York, Los Angeles, Miami, Atlanta. He's never hit Boston but if he got past security in Miami he'll get past it here. We think he might be a former employee but we're not sure. He seems to know all the security protocols of every hotel. That's why I wanted to change up."

"Well a few years ago we had two employees stealing jewels. After we caught them we made a slight change in security." Jim had to laugh.

"Those two? I know who you're talking about. They were amateurs. Losers. Waiting to be caught. This guy is leagues above them. His specialty is hotels. He can get through most any hotel security. He no doubt has dozens of aliases and probably never hits the same place twice. He's like his name suggests, like a ghost." They stood in silence for a few moments. Outside the snow looked more like ash and continued to cover Boston.

"Well, here is your room key. You're on the 23rd floor. Now you will no doubt see two twin boys running around up there. If they cause you any problems let me know."

"Guests?" asked Jim with a smirk.

"No. The sons of our hotel singer. They live here."

"No shit?" asked Jim with a smile. "Small world."

"How so?" asked Moseby.

"My mother was a hotel singer when my brother and I were growing up. We lived in a hotel in New York called the Dumont." They started to walk towards the elevator.

"Did you two drive the hotel manager crazy?" asked Moseby. Jim laughed.

"All the time. But he came to like us. Jack was the bad twin. I was the good twin." Moseby nodded.

"What does your brother do know?" asked Moseby. "I mean you did good for yourself, joining the FBI and all." Jim frowned as he pushed the up button.

"I haven't seen Jack since we were eighteen. We graduated high school. That night I was getting on a plane to go on vacation with friends. Jack saw me to my gate. We waved goodbye and I went on the plane. Never saw him again." Moseby frowned.

"He ran away?"

"Yeah. And what's funny is, the timeline we have of The Ghost has him starting up right around that time." The elevator arrived and the doors opened. Jim got in.

"You mean?" asked Moseby. Jim nodded.

"I think Jack is The Ghost."

….

He got off on the 23rd and as expected found the halls empty. He started to walk down the hall and was surprised when one of the doors opened and a blonde haired boy of about thirteen poked his head out.

"Good morning," greeted Jim. The boy smiled.

"You're Jim Driscoll. I'm a big fan," replied the boy. He held out a hand.

"Cody Martin. I hope you don't mind but I waited up to meet you. I knew your were coming and figured Moseby wouldn't let me near you at any other time." Cody held up a copy of Jim's book.

"You read that huh?" asked Jim. He was the FBI's best profiler. He had caught his fair share of serial killers but his specialty was tracking down the best thieves in the world. He had written his memoirs two years ago.

"My brother and I live in a hotel too," explained Cody as Jim signed his book for him. He left Cody a nice note. The kid was nice. Jim liked him.

"I am very tired and would like to go to bed, Cody. But I don't see why we can't sit down later and maybe have a chat," explained Jim.

"That would be awesome. Thanks," replied Cody. He shook Jim's hand and went back into his suite. Jim found his room and entered. It was nice, one of the nicer rooms he had seen, and he took about five minutes putting some clothes away and getting settled. He put the pictures of Chase and Hannah, his son and daughter, on the bedside table along with a picture of Ellen, his wife. They were back home in DC. Jim sighed and sat down on the bed, looking over the pictures of his family. He suddenly felt very alone.

…

Despite the hour the subway was still running. He got on at 5th street. Glenn Hoblit was already sitting and waiting for him. Jack Driscoll, known to the FBI as The Ghost, sighed and walked over.

"Lot of heat on this one, Jack," explained Glenn, not looking up. Jack sat down and sighed.

"It's worth it. I found a buyer. 100 million for the diamond. I can't pass that up," replied Jack. Glenn turned and looked at him.

"Your brother is on this. He arrived at the Tipton forty-five minutes ago," explained Glenn. Jack nodded. Glenn handed Jack a folder. Jack sighed and opened it.

"Major security overhaul. Armed guards at all the entrances. Video cameras. Laser beams across the floor. Motion detectors. It's too hot, Jack," said Glenn with a frown. Jack gave his old friend a reassuring smile.

"You have to trust me in this, Glenn," replied Jack. He closed the folder and tucked it under his arm. He would need a day or two to look it over.

"I'm checking into the Tipton. Case the joint. If I don't have a plan in three days I'll walk away," explained Jack. They stopped at 9th street. Jack stood up.

"I'll call you in three days," assured Jack. He stepped off the subway and walked back up into the ghost, vanishing into it like a ghost.