Sebastian is about to leave for the office, however he learns Ciel has a field trip to the Met today. Due to conflicts in his schedule Sebastian is unable to enjoy his sandwich in the Impressionist Wing until later. Mean while a crate is dropped off, however the contents are wrong.
What's going on?
Why is Sebastian in such a rush to get to the Met?
Who is the man with golden eyes?
I hope you enjoy,
~Kuro
P.s. I do not own Kuroshitsuji or the Thomas Crown Affair. Please note that the theft scene is the same as in the 1999 film. I just didn't have the heart to change it. Sorry guys I will stick with something and this is one of them.
Chapter 2: The Trojan Horse
Sebastian walked down the circular staircase of his apartment and noticed Ciel slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Ciel I thought you were already on your way to school," said Sebastian as he quickly walked down the stairs with his brief case in hand. Ciel looked at him and commented, "We are on a field trip to the Met." Sebastian looked at him in confusion and Ciel held out the slip. Sebastian quickly walked down the stairs and took the slip from Ciel's fingers, "Oh Mr. Landers is chaperoning," he said with a grin. He chuckled as he handed the piece of paper back to Ciel, "This is going to be fun," he commented as he began to walk across the foyer. "Have Bard drop you off at the Met, I won't be going until later," he said quickly as he continued through the door of the massive town house. Ciel nodded in appreciation as he watched Sebastian walk across the pavement and slip into the back of the town car. With ease Ciel was sitting beside him and Bard quickly closed the door. "Bard after you drop me off, take Ciel to the Met to meet up with his class," said Sebastian quickly as he pulled out his phone and began checking emails. He hummed as he noticed the new numbers which had been sent to him by Oscar. Ciel watched Sebastian's face twist into a grin of delight as he looked at the email. "Good news?" asked Ciel. Sebastian looked up at him in confusion for a moment and then replied, "Ah, well our stock is up and we were offered another account." Ciel hummed and looked out the window; it was always good to hear business was up. The town car continued to zip through the streets.
It was dark as always an cluttered with creates as security officers began unloading a truck from the Smithsonian. Standing before a pair of men dressed in navy blue, was a massive create with Greek characters on it, "Sign here," said the delivery man as he held out the clip board. One of the guards gratefully took it and signed his name; the delivery man nodded in appreciation and adjusted his cap. "Okay according to the manifest it's supposed to be a sarcophagus," said the delivery man. The two guards looked at one another and then the crate. Both of them had seen the crates in which sarcophagi usually came in and this one was far too large. "Are you sure?" asked the one who signed, his brow wrinkled with suspicion. "Well let's open it up," said the second guard as he grabbed a crowbar. The pair slipped the two bars into the sides and slowly began to pry the lid from the rest of the container. The massive wooden lid fell with a bang and the two looked at the contents of the crate.
"That's not an Egyptian sarcophagus," said one of the guards angrily and his eyes fell on the delivery man, who held his hands up. "Hey I just deliver I don't pack these things, take it up with the guys you got it shipped in from," said the delivery man. The heavier of the two shook his head and groaned, this meant a ton of paper work and telling the coordinator that they had been given what looked like a clay rendition of one of Leonardo da Vinci's horses, rather than the Egyptian Sarcophagus. "Boy, the guys up stairs are going to love this," he bellowed as he looked at the thinner of the pair. "Yo, Sammy let's move this fucking thing out of the way," he said and the thinner guard nodded. Sammy pushed the case back and looked over at the heavier one, "So Donny which of us is breaking the news first?" he asked. Donny rolled his eyes and groaned, "I have no idea, and I just know the guys up stairs are going to hit the walls when they find out about this." The pair turned and left ignoring the scraping sound which emanated from the horse. Little did the pair realize that, tucked away inside the horse were two men dressed in black, one of them looked down at his watch and began counting down from five with his fingers. With the nod of his head the pair began to saw their way through the belly of the horse.
Ciel stepped out of the car and looked back at Bard, "Thanks Bard," he said smoothly. Bard looked at the young man and smiled, "Of course, have a good day young master," he responded. Ciel sighed; he hated being called that however he knew he had to tolerate it. Bard nodded and closed the car door, he stood there and waited for Ciel to finish climbing the stairs only for his cell to ring, "This is Bard Roy," he responded quickly. He listened and replied, "Of course Mr. Michaelis, I will be there in ten minutes." Bard hung up the phone and shook his head. "Why didn't I just drop the pair off this morning at the same place?" he asked himself as he slowly slipped into the driver's seat of the town car. He continued through the streets to see Sebastian standing on the street, he was looking at his watch and Bard frowned. It was clear something had gone wrong. He stopped the car and watched as Sebastian opened the door for himself, "Drive," he barked as he slammed the door behind him. Bard nodded and was quick to pull into traffic. Sebastian stared out the window and bit the side of his finger, Bard was silent however he had only seen this expression once and that was when Ciel had collapsed from an asthma attack. Bard managed to jump into another lane of traffic and in a few minutes he was in front of the Met. "Thanks," said Sebastian as he jumped out, he didn't even allow Bard to open the door. He had a suite case in hand and a news paper under the other. Bard sighed and shook his head, "He probably needs to clear his head."
Landers pointed to the painting which hung all over the walls and said, "Welcome to the American Wing." Ciel rolled his eye and groaned, he couldn't help but wonder if Ash was going to use the information he had provided the day before when they reached the Impressionist Wing. Ciel looked around and noticed something unusual, a pair of guards in the signature red blazers, but they were wearing boots. His eye narrowed as he watched the move through the hallways. He slowly looked around and noticed all of the paintings which depicted American patriotism; some how this show of nationalism made him feel irritated. "Hey Ciel, are you okay?" asked Soma and Ciel turned to him. He sighed and nodded his head. "Yeah, just a little tired," he replied and Soma smiled. Soma was always concerned about Ciel's health and obviously felt it was his duty to protect him from harm. Ciel looked over and noticed how the paintings impressed Soma, "Whoa so many patriots, it's impressive," he whispered. Ciel shrugged and looked at all of them, "Are any of yours here?" asked Soma. He class fell silent and Mr. Landers glared at Ciel, it was a silent warning and yet Ciel ignored him. "No most of ours are in the Impressionist Wing, Asian Wing, and Drawings and Prints," he commented. The class looked at Ciel and the boy shrugged, "Phantom Acquisitions operates around the world and deals in a number of different areas," he stated. Landers looked as though he were about to snap and the guide clapped her hands, "Oh my we have the heir to one of the largest Acquisition Firms in the world with us," she was beaming and Ciel could tell she was hoping for a change of pace.
"I don't know as much as Sebastian, however I'm no fool either," he said proudly, the woman blushed immediately after hearing Sebastian's first name. Ciel chuckled all women were like that with him, no women or man for that matter could resist Sebastian. "Wonderful," she chimed as she turned on her heel and continued to guide them down the gallery. However those guards were still bugging him, he thought that black dress shoes were a mandate in the dress code. They were clearly wearing combat boots, something was defiantly off. His eyes were locked on the door way, "Ciel come on," called Soma and the slate haired teen sprinted to catch up with the group. Before he left he caught the sight of Sebastian's trim figure moving through the hallway. "What's he doing here?" asked Ciel in confusion.
Sebastian continued to walk toward the impressionist wing and smiled, his favorite bench was open and he slowly took a seat. In moments he unfolded his paper and was looking through the articles. "We need to clear the room if you please," called a thick Russian accent, Sebastian looked up in confusion. His eyes narrowed and he asked, "Why?" The Russian man was dressed in the regalia of a security guard and replied, "For cleaning." Sebastian glared at him; everyone in the museum knew who he was. He scooted off the bench and sighed. He folded the news paper under his arm and grabbed his suitcase. One of them shouted something over the radio and Sebastian smirked, they were defiantly not members of the security team. Sebastian's shoes clicked as he walked into the hallway and Finnian spotted him, "Mr. Michaelis you look irritated," he commented and looked at his watch. "I've been evicted," he commented with a note of irritation. Finnian looked at him in confusion and asked, "What?" It was clear nothing had been scheduled to occur in that wing, "It's been scheduled for cleaning, the Impressionist Gallery," said Sebastian curtly. Finnian looked even more alarmed, "What?" he asked again. Sebastian sighed and emphasized every word, "Cleaning, they're doing it right now." Finnian's green eyes narrowed for a moment and he called, "Hey Max come over here." A group of men in red jackets moved quickly through the hallway toward the Impressionist Gallery. Sebastian trailed behind them and took a seat on the bench.
"What's going on here?" asked Finnian, he had a small army of men in red jackets behind him. Oddly the blonde didn't look intimidating, however when it came down to it he could do his job. "Yes," said one of the two which had blocked off the Gallery. "Upstairs sent us, there are some VIPs coming through here, they requested that we clean this area up." Finnian looked at him and shifted, "I didn't hear about it, I over see this section," he commented. The lean Russian seemed unfazed and commented, "You can call upstairs if you like." Finnian was silent for a moment as he looked over the group, he smiled a little and shook his head. "No, no, you're right, they've been having people down here all week," he commented as he slowly turned around. He was slow and smiled when he heard helicopter blades over head and the shadow over the floor. In seconds Finnian had a collapsible night stick with a taser at the end in his hand. The pair scrambled to get out of the gallery and Finnian ran after them. "Stop him," shouted Finnian. Sebastian turned the page of his news paper and slowly slipped out his leg. The Russian fell to the floor with a bang and Sebastian quickly moved out of the way. "Look out Mr. Michaelis," said Finnian as he got the man with a taser. Max was quick to break through the glass and activate the security alarm. In seconds a horn was blaring through the air and lights flashed as the heavy silver gates began to lower from the ceiling. Sebastian slipped away from the brawl and slid his brief case under the gate. By doing so he created a space which he could slide through and he smiled as he slipped under the gate. "Game time," he whispered as he sprinted across the gallery. His shoes clicked as he moved swiftly, he slipped a white cotton glove over one hand and snatched the painting from the wall. He quickly tore it from the frame and popped open the brief case which he had stashed under the bench. Sebastian's fingers quickly unbuckled the case and he stuck Van Gough's "Starry Night" in the suite case and quickly closed it. In seconds he was back across the room and slipped under the gate again like a cat before disappearing in the foot traffic of people attempting to evacuate the premises. "Please remain calm," called one of the guides and Sebastian quickly padded down the hallway. His shoes clicked as he walked down the steps, he was calm and collected. In moments he was out the front door and in the streets of New York.
A smile swept across his lips as he watched Ciel get on a school bus, Soma was standing behind him and he waved to the pair. "Hey Ciel, Sebastian is waving to us," he said happily, Soma poked Ciel and the slate haired teen turned to Sebastian. "Idiot," he muttered and Sebastian quickly went down the steps to his car. Bard was standing outside of it and opened the door. "What happened?" asked Bard with a note of concern. Sebastian slipped into the back and waited for Bard to return to the driver's seat. "Attempted theft in the Impressionist Wing," he responded. Bard's eyes widened and he looked over at Sebastian, "Are you alright sir?" he asked, his breath smelt of cigarettes and Sebastian nodded. He slowly leaned back in the seat when he felt his phone buzz. He slowly reached into his pocket and noticed he had received a text from Ciel.
Ciel Phantomhive:
Why were you at the museum?
Sebastian sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Ciel is safe, he is on a bus on the way to his school," said Sebastian before Bard could even think to ask. He slowly tucked one of his black bangs behind his ear and quickly replied.
Sebastian Michaelis:
I was going to have lunch, now it looks like I will have to find another spot until this whole event is absolved. Shouldn't you be in class?
Sebastian looked at the screen of his Galaxy SIII and shook his head. He was well aware of the times in which students were able to text their guardians and friends, however he knew now wasn't one of them. His red eyes closed for a moment and he heaved a sigh, his phone buzzed again and he quickly looked at the screen.
Ciel Phantomhive:
Shouldn't you be in the office?
Sebastian glared, once again Ciel was being obstinate, it was one of the less endearing traits of the teenager. He grumbled as he quickly composed his next message only to be interrupted with a call from the office. "Michaelis," he responded and listened for a moment. It was clear the office was concerned after hearing about the incident in the Impressionist Wing. "I'm alright, I'm just heading to see a friend as scheduled," he commented. His tong fingers slowly curled in his black hair as he scratched his head, "No I will be back there in an hour, tell Jose not to panic," he said quickly. He didn't need the young security chief to panic anymore than he probably already had. "At this rate he'll have heart palpitations," commented Sebastian grimly. He looked out the window and finished listening to Mey-rin babble before hanging up. After doing so he finished his message, "This will remind you of who's who," he grumbled.
Ciel was chatting with Soma when he felt his phone buzz. "Mr. Phantomhive that better not be a cell phone I hear," called Mr. Landers. Ciel grimaced and Soma froze, Mr. Landers was quick to push his way through the congested hallway and held his hand out for the device. "Mr. Landers, Ciel's guardian was in the museum, he just wants to make sure he's okay," said Soma quickly, his voice was soft yet Mr. Landers could still hear the demanding note in it. It served as a warning, that this wasn't something he could interfere with. "Fine, just a text," commented Mr. Landers, he crossed his arms and continued to watch Ciel. The slate haired teen opened the text and nearly shouted with irritation.
Sebastian Michaelis:
Being the boss has its perks, besides you're the one who isn't interested in the company.
Soma chuckled as he watched Ciel turn red with rage, "Unbelievable, I'm the heir," he spat. Mr. Landers was grinning from ear to ear; finally Ciel had received a taste of his own medicine. Soma shifted his purple hair out of his eyes and commented, "You did have it coming." Ciel glared daggers at him and groaned; he hated it when Soma was right. "What ever," said Ciel as he hastily shoved his phone in his pocket. It was clear Sebastian was doing even better than expected. Then again Sebastian would find a way to get him even if he was on his deathbed.
Less than an hour passed and NYPD made its way onto the scene. Yellow tape with black lettering was wrapped around the gallery and other areas. "Okay let's get to it," shouted one of the officers, he had thick black hair and a beard. His eyes peered through a pair of square glasses as he looked over the scene. He usually worked an array of cases; however he never expected a case like this to cross his desk. "Randall, tell that rookie to get his ass over here!" shouted another officer. Randall sighed and pulled out his cell phone, "Aberline, where the hell are you?" he barked over the phone. He looked down the hall to see Aberline heading strait for him. Randall looked at the ginger and shook his head, everyday it was the same drill, waiting, listening to the kid make his point, then going about it his way. "Sorry sir, traffic," said Aberline as he met up with Randall. Finnian was standing beside the pair and looked at them. Randall was in his late 30s and Aberline couldn't look over 35, which made Finnian uncomfortable. A theft like this had never occurred before and the NYPD was sending in these two. He sighed and said, "Okay at 11 am today, the Impressionist Wing was broken into and a painting was stolen." Finnian turned and slowly guided them toward the wing. "Whoa, that's one hell of a briefcase," said Aberling, he pulled his camera and began taking photos of the case, which only had a dent in the top.
Finnian continued to guide them and they noticed the empty frame lying on the floor, the place in which the frame had inhabited was now empty. "Whoa, he just took it off the wall and walked off with it?" asked Randall in amazement. Finnian nodded and responded, "He didn't leave a trace either." Aberline and Randall looked at one another before a deep voice filled the room, "Are you sure about that?" it asked. The three turned to see a tall and broad chested gentleman enter the room. His black hair was a mess and he wore a pair of silver rectangular glasses. His eyes were a beautiful gold and he looked emotionless. "Have you checked the footage?" he asked, his sultry voice made Aberline freeze. Randall's eyes narrowed, the man was wearing a suite which was easily worth $5,000. It was fitted and he could tell that this man had a personal tailor. His collar was unbuttoned and he smoothed his hair back. "Who are you?" barked Randall. The man's lips lifted into a grin, "The man who's going to get "Starry Night," back," he replied coolly.
