Authoress Note: Story takes place in the future. Some event changes will be explained in thoughts and all that jazz, so if you get confused, I apologize ahead xD Also this is prolly gonna be only three chapters or so... We'll see.

Extra Note: Also, please please please comment. It helps me know if you all like this or not and whether I should even care to continue with it (I mean I probably will anyway, but some feedback would still be loved!) Another thing. I apologize for any OOCness that any of the characters display, OK? I'm trying. And as for spelling and grammer errors, again, I'm sorry. I try to fix those AFTER I'm done so I don't worry about them.

July 18, 2016

The streets of Santa Fe were hot. The sun was high and beating down as much as it could through the tall buildings. Homeless men and women crowded the shade as citizens ran by. Some late for work, others trying to catch a cab. And some for their own, possibly dark, maybe even lighter, reasons. Everyone seemed to be in a frenzy. Everyone except a muscular blonde male, lazily leaning against a statue outside the Santa Fe Museum of Fine Arts.

He looked like your average everyday Joe. He leaned quietly against the wall, texting whoever, and simply looking like he was waiting for someone. Which he was. Only, the person he was waiting for didn't know he was waiting.

"Got anything?" he calmly murmured, not even looking like his mouth was moving, as he continued to act calm and collected. However, if one had walked by, they might think he was talking to himself. No one would be able to see the small earpiece in right ear.

On the other end of the feed, a wary and almost worn, voice answered back. "Nothing. It doesn't look like it's going to happen today. Might be tonight. A common thief would steal at night, you know?" A small smile spread across his handsome face, as another voice cut in. "Dude, never underestimate a thief. End up dead. Besides, I'd hit it in daylight. Less security, less preparation. Easy pickings."

The other male growled, and the blonde male had to keep himself from straight out laughing. "Oh I forgot I'm working with the leading expert on uncommon anomalies of crimes. Don't try to get slick with me, wiseass! Not all crooks are as psychotic as you!"

The blonde male made to comment and calm the two down, when the signal of the alarms of the museum, began to blink on his wrist. Acting with quick reflexes and speed, he began a quick jog into the building as it began to go into lock-down. The museum director, a small mousy man named Dr. Yale who had hired them and was friends with their boss, looked ready to break down and weep, as he allowed his security guards to lead him and Chance to where the culprit should be held down.

In his ear, his oldest friend stated that cameras were out. Damn. Whoever this was, they were good. Guerrero was a pro at hiding video cameras and mics. Speeding ahead, he ran to the vault where the prize was. The museum was in charge of the exhibit for "The Black Crow", a lack, priceless, diamond found and crafted for an Egyptian queen, to be in the shape of a crow, the remaining pieces placed in her necklace, which was also on display. They would be worth a fortune if someone had taken them.

That was why Dr. Yale had asked their boss for their protection. Someone had tried to steal them. Twice. And they had left typed out notes, stating they'd return. That was what puzzled him and his colleges. Why leave a note? It was like the thief wanted to get caught... And if that was the case, why?

He watched the security guards quickly turn and unlock the vault, waiting, ready, for anyone to be behind the large metal door. As the door flew open, his wary sounding college announced that the cameras were back on, and-

"-No one was inside."

The vault was empty of any person, any human. Nothing was moved. The Black Crow and the necklace were still placed perfectly where they had been. Not a stone out of place. The only thing new to the room, was a simple folded piece of paper about the size of a small get well card. Cautiously, he walked up to the note and easily plucked it from the stand, opening it.

Only eight words were written in dark red on the paper. "You'll need to be faster than that, Chance.", he read aloud. Under the piece of paper was a smiling face winking with a big opened mouth, cartoon, smile.

Looking at the smile, he took a picture of the image, and relayed it to Guerrero and Winston, his mind in disbelief. There was only one person he knew who left smiling cartoon faces on their notes like this. Only one person that came to mind. Someone he hadn't heard from in five years.

"Dude...!" his friend groaned in surprise and disbelief. "No way!" his wary pal exclaimed. "It can't be! I know they are not this stupid!" He made to retort his opinion, when he heard his phone go off. Looking at the caller ID, he flipped open his phone and answered.

"Ilsa?" he was surprised. His boss knew they were on a mission. Had Dr. Yale already gotten a hold of her and told her of the note? "Mr. Chance. I'll need you, Mr. Guerrero, and Mr. Winston to return," Ilsa sounded dazed and awed. "We have a very.. Important guest."

After that she hung up. But as she was hanging up, she heard another voice in the background. A familiar but older sounding voice. He looked at his phone, and quickly stuffed it into his pocket. "Time to find out if it really is who we think it is, guys. Meet me up front, Guerrero."

He quickly told Dr. Yale that they may have a lead on the prankster thief, before leaving him and his guards in confusion, as he ran outside to Guerrero and his 1976 Chevrolet Camaro, quickly sliding into the front seat.

"You think it's her?" he asked as they peeled down the roads. He watched his friend grip the wheel and could see his knuckles turning white. If this was who they thought it was, then they were in some serious trouble. Guerrero didn't trust a lot of people. So it was rare to end up in his circle of trust, especially as fast as their old college and friend had. But it had become more than that for him. He'd come to care for their safety and well being, even if he didn't show it.

If this was who they all thought it was, then he prayed they had a good explanation for their five year absence and leaving without so much as a word, and disappearing off the face of the earth to the point that not even Guerrero could find them.

"Don't know, dude," he finally answered, sounding casual to any outside. But he could tell that he was foaming. He didn't like loose ends. Their friend leaving had been a tick in his paranoid ways. He always kept tabs on his people, and now one had slipped under his radar in the haze of the setting sun five years ago.

When they finally approached the building, a black van pulled up as they were getting out. The van quickly shut off, and out stepped a large black male, Winston, looking as in disbelief as the rest of them. He had more history with the possible guest. If anyone should deserve to show their hurt and frustration, it had been him. They made it to the elevator, and quickly headed up, all preparing for the possibility of their assumptions being correct.

As the doors binged open, the first person they found was a tall male at around six and a half feet. His eyes were a dark blue-green, and his hair was short and wild, spiked and swished. He was dressed in a white wife-beater, dark jeans with a large Texas belt, and black boots. He was crouched in front of Carmine, rubbing across the dogs back and stomach and head, giving the dog attention. He glanced lazily over at the elevator, slowly standing and ruffling the dogs furry head, before giving a casual wave.

"Hey Chance, Winston, Guerrero, " he chuckled in his slight Irish brogue. "It's been a long time." Chance blinked his surprise, as the other male reached out and shook his head and pat his shoulder. "Silas Veder?" Winston spoke up, looking flabbergasted. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Silas grinned and pat Carmine's head as the dog stumbled by to gain attention from his owner, who ruffled his head and scratched behind his ears, keeping his eyes on Silas. "Ah, don't mind me. I just came here to drop my student off. She's been real excited to see you all again." He nudged his head to Ilsa's office, and instantly Chance turned to the office.

Sitting with Ilsa was a young woman with a shapely form and long brunette hair and brown-green eyes. She was wearing a simple pair of shorts for the hot weather, and a dark gray, silver studded, tank top under a denemin, short sleeved, jacket and matching gray flip-flops. Her hair was in a low ponytail, and she wore a simple leather bracelet as she nodded and chatted with Ilsa, a form of profession and calm.

Chance shook his head in disbelief, as he watched the brunette stand and shake hands with Ilsa, a professional but kind smile on her lips as she exited the office, instantly being greeted by Carmine, happy to see his old friend. She scratched his ears and grinned at him.

"Holy hell," she commented, speaking for the first time in front of the shocked males. "I'm still surprised he's alive. He has gotta be hitting 20 in dog years." Silas shrugged, as he walked to the elevator and removed a large duffel bag that had been pressed up against the wall, dropping it in front of her. "Dogs can live a long life if they're taken care of, lass."

She looked at the bags and picked them up and pulled them over her head. "You heading out?" she asked him, ignoring the way the males watched her like a hawk, crossing her arms lazily. Silas gave a small smile and ruffled her hair. "Aiy! Gotta be in France by tomorrow our time. Gotta see you-know-who, otherwise they'll have my head," he chuckled, before reaching to grab his bag and pat her on the shoulder. "Keep in touch, stick to your training, and no dieing."

She smirked. "I'll try." She waved goodbye to Silas as he pat Chance and the others on the back as he walked by and stepped into the elevator, before disappearing behind the door. Leaving Winston, Chance, and Guerrero staring in disbelief.

She smiled at them, acting as if she saw them everyday for the last five years. "What's up?" That was all it took for Winston to snap, catching Chance off guard. "Ames!" he bellowed. "Where the hell have you been?"

R & R