If you think I actually own any of this, you're wrong. It's the brain child of Angela Robinson and the property of Sony Pictures.

Chapter 14:

I took a moment to breathe. In a few minutes, Ronnie would have cleared out. He would've locked the cage behind him, and he would've left Amy's body behind, figuring that I would get the blame for her murder.

So I figured that it was about time I got out.

I dug around in my shirt, finally producing a safe box key, and immediately ran to one of the larger boxes, box number 137 in the back corner. I twisted the key, and slid the large, deep drawer opened.

I smiled. Max had come through, God bless her. I pulled out a yellow hardhat, a pair of rubber boots, a gray rain jacket and an air tank and mask.

At every step of a heist, you only need to keep three things in mind. Time, place, and method. Where, when and how. I guess what's true for journalism is true for larceny. This holds true for every single step of the heist. Getting into the building, acquiring the loot, and the getaway; which, interestingly enough, is actually the hardest part of any heist. Ronnie had made the mistake of underplanning his getaway; and in the process, he'd put me exactly where I wanted to be; like throwing the rabbit into the briar patch.

Something Scud and I had pieced together pretty much from day one was how to get someone out of the building if they were locked inside the vault.

Burn the building down.

Or at the very least, convince the building that it's about to burn down.

The vault was designed to protect valuables, not kill someone who happened to be unfortunate enough to lock themselves inside when a fire broke out. So, if a massive fire broke out in the building, and someone was inside the vault, it opened. All that needed to be done was to lift the emergency phone off the hook while the fire alarm was ringing, and the vault door would open. Or at least, someone with a little electronic savvy had to convince the phone that it was off the hook.

I quickly donned the boots and jacket, then pulled on the hardhat and the oxygen mask. In a few minutes, I'd transformed myself into a perfect facsimile of a firefighter. Then I glanced down at my wristwatch. It was perfect timing.

All we'd had to do was install a device in the ventilation ducts which would produce enough heat and smoke that the security system would be convinced that a massive fire had broken out on the sixth floor. Ronnie had been nice enough to let us install just such a device. The oscillator I'd installed to fool the vault's time lock was also an exorbitantly complicated Molotov cocktail. And it was due to go off any minute now. It would produce enough smoke and heat to set off every fire sensor on the floor, and at the same time, it would burn out the power lines for the entire floor; shutting off every light, and video camera.

Even through the thick metal walls of the vault, I could hear the fire alarm go off. Automatically, the fire department would be called, and the sprinkler system would activate, effectively washing away any fingerprints Amy or I had left behind.

Sometimes, I'm so brilliant, I even amaze myself.

With a sound analogous to a hiss, the vault door swung opened, and the lock at the far end of the cage disengaged. I quickly paused to remove any evidence of tampering from the emergency phone, then I stepped out, and closed the vault door behind me. Now all I needed to do was wait for the fire department to show up, and slip out.

First though, I knelt down beside the desk and remove an item which Amy had taped there while Ronnie's attention was on me sending him the diamond.

I pulled out a Glock .357 which had been taped to the bottom of the desk, and quickly ejected the clip. I let out a long, relieved breath as I realized that it was loaded with hollow-point bullets. This was Ronnie's gun. We'd smuggled an identical model in on our first trip up to the vault, and Amy had taped it to the bottom of the desk while we appealed to Ronnies sense of modesty. For the first time in two weeks, I actually allowed myself to relax as I stepped out of the vault room, and slid quietly into one of the adjacent offices to wait for the fire department to arrive.

-x-

Scud was waiting for me when I got out of the building, leaning up against the '69 Mustang. There were no fewer than four fire engines waiting around the building while the department cleared them. Slipping away was just obscenely easy.

I quickly stripped out of the uniform and dropped it in the back seat. Then I pulled Scud into a tight hug. "God, Scud, you were brilliant."

"Well, shucks," Scud smiled.

"You want to watch the final scene?" I asked.

Scud shook his head, "naah, I told Janet I'd take her out for a late dinner after this all sorted out."

-x-

You'd be surprised how much plastique you can pack into the frame of a Beretta; and how much thermite you can pack into the frame of a revolver. It was just enough to blow the safe open, burn up just about anything Amy or I had touched, and surrounded by barrels of quite flammable wine, the whole building would go up like a giant tinderbox.

In a few minutes, Ronnie was really gonna regret having put some of the more incriminating evidence in a fireproof lockbox. For example, the paper on which Scud had printed out the vault's code was there, if he was consistent with his usual MO, he probably had a picture of the diamond, probably a list of its planned movements as well. More than enough to convict someone who also happened to have the diamond in his back pocket.

I arrived at the safehouse just as the fire department had managed to get the fires under control.

Now, I admit that it was out of pure vindictiveness that the gun Amy had handed Ronnie had a small microphone and transceiver on it. It really served no real purpose for the heist, but it did allow me to listen in on the full conversation as I slipped a small earpiece into my right ear.

"We got an anonymous tip that an attempt had been made to steal a diamond from the Customs vault," a police officer was saying, "the caller suggested that you might be able to shed some light on it."

Ronnie shrugged, "I'm certain I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you armed?"

"Gun in my back, permit in my pocket," Ronnie replied.

"Hand it over," the officer ordered.

Ronnie complied, and the officer turned it over in his hands a few times.

"This has been fired recently," he said.

"Target practice," Ronnie dismissed the comment, holding his hand out for the weapon.

The officer ejected the clip and looked down at it quizzically for a moment. "You do target practice with a gun loaded with blanks?"

"What?"

"Sir!" A second cop ran from the factory, holding a lockbox in her hands. "I think you might want to see this."

I really wish I could've seen the look on Ronnie's face at that moment. I'd like to think that he was just starting to piece it all together.

"Well, what have we here?" The officer said. He nodded to her, "book him," he ordered.

The female cop quickly patted Ronnie down. "Sir?" She asked, "I think we have something here." She handed him the diamond I'd worked so hard to steal for the last two weeks.

"Oh my," the officer said, "I think you may have a problem."

"I want my lawyer," Ronnie announced.

"Good idea," the officer replied. "Tell him we're booking you for grand larceny." He spoke into the microphone on his shoulder. "See if we can get our hands on the security footage for the sixth floor of the customs house," he said.

I was pretty sure they'd find that footage interesting.

-x-

I was still grinning pretty stupidly when I made it back to the car. I threw the earpiece into the car and ran to the driver's side door.

"You're under arrest!" A voice announced from behind me, "keep your hands where I can see them."

I turned around to see the female cop that had been frisking Ronnie only moments ago. Apparently she'd managed to slip away.

"It took you long enough," I smiled, "I thought I was gonna have to wait for you all night."

Amy pulled off the officer's cap, and carefully lifted the dark wig from her head. She again ran her fingers over the very thin hair on her head. "That's really gonna take a lot of getting used to."

"You were brilliant," I said, wrapping her up in my arms, "what a performance. For a second there, I thought you hadn't managed to switch the guns. You play dead better than anyone I've ever seen." I pulled her close, my lips finding hers as we held each other close not quite being able to motivate ourselves to let go.

"Um, as much as I don't want to put a damper on this," Amy whispered as she pulled away, "we're just around the corner from, like, a bazillion cops."

I rolled my eyes, "always the practical one." I slid behind the wheel as Amy flopped down in the passenger seat, a huge shit-eating grin on her face.

Nobody even paid any attention as the '69 Mustang pulled away from the curb and drove away.

We were both quiet as we drove through the silent LA streets until I finally turned to Amy. "So," I said, trying to sound casual, "did you get it?"

A wide grin appeared on Amy's face as she held up a large blue diamond in the full moon's light.

"I think it's fair to say that it'll be a while before they realize they've got a fake in their hands," Amy told me.

"You know, you could've just left that with the cops," I said.

"Hey, if someone could steal it from a US customs vault, do you really think it's gonna be safe in a police evidence locker?" Amy said innocently.

I smiled at her. "You realize that we just stole one of the world's most famous diamonds from the US customs vault? Nobody's ever done that."

Amy nodded.

"So," I grinned, "what are we going to do to top this?"

Amy just smiled.