Heist of the Aztec Necklace

Chapter 1

Sometimes he worked nights at museums. Other times, mansions or banks. He was a thief who specialized in objects of the rare and precious status. Although he was known to do side jobs, like pickpocketing. In their field, one didn't have the option of being so particular. Refusing any job could potentially lead to loss of a future client. Which meant loss of employment. He was good at his job and the relationships involved. He made sure his clients were happy and got what they wanted, always.

Tonight he was in a museum. Here he rarely stole an item off the shelf, in a stand, out on a pedicel because that was idiocy. There were greater and more priceless treasures hidden away in the vaults and storage rooms.

His latest prize rested beneath his arm in a small, black box. It was an Aztec gold necklace. Recently a private expedition group had unearthed a burial ground. The group had exited the country with the treasures they found. Both the dig and trafficking of artifacts were done illegally. That was one of the reasons there had been no news in the 'outside' world. On the other hand, private collectors were going crazy and the black market dealers already had a set of fakes ready to provide to any ignorant customer. He and his team had been hired by a collector to retrieve one. They wanted one that was guaranteed to be real and they were paying a large amount to make sure.

The one in the museum had been sent in for verification. The expedition needed documentation to sell for a good price. Bugs and cameras, he and his team had planted a year ago, heard the verification. But before the item was returned, he had been ordered to recover the piece; it was always good to be ahead of the game.

Itachi's lips tilted up slightly, the game was just ending, for him anyways. The necklace was already secured under his arm as he shimmied into one of ventilation systems. He was one of the best, but he wouldn't be the only one out on the hunt. Now that word had gotten out about the real authenticity, many would be flocking to the building.

Earlier he had avoided a pair of novices trying to take out a laser system. The poor kids didn't even realize they were going down the wrong hallway, and he didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. They'd looked like college students, and not just any college students, the nerdy kind. That cued him in on the fact that it wouldn't just be advanced thieves after his prize tonight. Word must have gotten out to some of the well known black internet sites. By morning, there would be cops at the building. Children were always bound to mess up, even on the simplest of jobs.

He predicted that the more advanced would be arriving a little later, expecting to take advantage of a guard change at eleven thirty post meridian. That had changed when the museum realized what was in their custody. Being in the shady business themselves, as in verifying illegally brought in artifacts, they knew that the item would be sought. They increased security and shifted the guard schedules around. Internal intel, his partner had cornered a guard at a bar, had given them the advantage over other competition.

His partner had already taken out the three guards that were supposed to be on outside duty. The fourth and fifth, who were supposed to be guarding the inside of the room, had been easily overcome by a one dollar hot wheels car and a small motor. A quick pick and the small lockbox had been opened. They could have at least put it behind a combination lock if they wanted a thief to take eight seconds. Four seconds to take out the cutter. Two seconds to position. Two more to make the cut. As it was, it had only take a second and a half, he'd already had his tools out. Sometimes things were just too easy.

Or not.

He stopped, noticing something wasn't right. His eyes squinted as he looked down the vent shaft; he thought he had heard a sound.

A clinking noise followed the pit in his stomach. The sound meant trouble. He could hear sizzling near his hand and flickering of light. Joy. A firecracker. He shielded his eyes, waiting for the worst. The fuse ran out and a smoke pillar came right at him.

He was coughing within seconds, trying to regain oxygen and composure. But before he could do so, something hit him and hit him hard.

With a thump his head hit the ceiling, then his back hit metal. Hands began to grip at his body, searching him.

He clung to the box while trying to breath, already he could see grey at the edge of his vision as he began to go unconscious. He was a sick man, the disease inside of him already made it difficult to get air. With the smoke filling his lungs it was impossible to breath.

Something pressed against his face and it took a moment for him to realize it was a gasmask. He blinked his watering eyes as smoke surrounded the two of them and voices to the side alerted him that those outside of the ventilation system were seeing the smoke. He needed to get out.

He pushed up, trying to get the person on top of him off. They were both going to get caught if they stayed like this. His movement made the gas mask move off of his face and immediately he couldn't breath again. He gave several gasping breaths before the mask was put back on.

There was another clinking noise as the smoke bomb was kicked away.

He could feel a cool hand with nails pressing against his throat checking for a pulse.

It was her.

The gasmask was pulled away and soft, cool lips pressed against his own. Instinct won over everything else. Both hands grabbed at the back of her head, pulling her closer. A soft murmur of approval greeted his action. His hands began sliding lower, as his mouth enjoyed the luscious taste from the strawberry lip balm. Suddenly the body above him was gone and, reaching to the side, he realized so was his prize.

It had been her.

He could hear people coming in all directions, and he knew he could spend no more time lying on his back.

He quickly made his way to the exit, rolled across a hallway to avoid a guard (who was watching the entire ventilation system retch pink smoke) and climbed out the window he had previously soldered the bars off of. He made his way across the grounds and scaled the high wall, dodging the barb wire with ease. He jumped onto the roof of a blue van, and then to the city street.

He pulled the side door opened, got in and then slammed it shut. He took several deep breaths.

"Looks like you failed."

His eyes looked at his partner, taking in the smiling features and black, beady eyes he hated with a passion. A flash light beamed itself at him as he felt the van move.

"Would you look at that rich, red lipstick." So it hadn't been lip balm. Great.

The man laughed as if it was the best joke in the world.

Itachi could only narrow his eyes in anger. The woman was only good at stealing from other thieves...him in particular.

"Why was she there Kisame?" he growled. He wasn't really expecting an answer, Kisame wasn't really the most informed.

Kisame continued to laugh as he reached down and plucked something from Itachi's shirt. "When the clock chimes twelve times, can you find the best Italian cuisine? If so and you pay, the pretty little necklace is yours to keep," Kisame read from the paper.

Itachi snatched the paper away.

"She thinks you're such a work-a-holic that the only way to get what she wants is to intervene on one of your excursions. She puts in a lot of work to get a date with you; I'd keep a girl like that."

Itachi looked up at his smiling friend as the car swayed to a stop at a red light.

He gave a good cough, clearing his throat. It was still hard to breath, "She's going to end up killing me."

Kisame chuckled, "At least you'll die happy."

A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read. This will be a short story: 4 chapters long. Please leave a review if you have the time.