The Silver Serpent - A Heist Novel

A Day in the Life

Run, run, run. 

The familiar ping of gunfire sounds next to me as I dodge walls, AC vents, and oncoming bullets. My breathing is ragged, and I can barely see three feet ahead of me, but somehow my burning legs find the strength to carry me further.

Those aching legs fail me, letting me stumble after vaulting over an AC unit. The sound of heavy footsteps sends chills through my body, and I can't help but whip my head up to see that I am not running fast enough. The man in the blue suit is gaining on me, and by the looks of it, he's not running out of ammo anytime soon. 

Who is this guy?

A tiny pinprick of pain strikes just above my hip then spreads like lightning up through my back, sending me crashing, finally, to the hard concrete. Looking down, I see a small feather tipped dart sticking out of my hip. I do not have time for this. Groaning, I barely manage to pull myself to my feet, running sluggishly towards the white keyhole of light. Another dart ricochets off a wall behind me, scaring me into the air. 

 When I decided to major in Art History, I didn't realize this would be part of the curriculum! No wonder the class was empty on the first day.

I can almost make it; I'm almost there, I know it. An unassuming black cable juts out like a root, catching my foot and causing me to tumble down, landing flat on my stomach. No, no, no. 

Those bonechilling footsteps echo louder, but there not coming from the direction of the blue suited man this time, instead they come from my source of hope. 

"Fannuci!" I recognize the voice calling my name, but I can't quite place it. My vision fades to black as I try to get back up. 

I was almost there.

•••

The world spins, nothing firm until I fully open my dazed and bloodshot eyes. I look around to see that I'm in the back of a hatchback next to a tall man in a blue suit. As though I'm being controlled by a puppeteer, my limbs stretch out, closing the space between us. My fists curl into a position they're used to being in, both from the fights I get paid for, and those that I don't.

Nothing brings me out of this fight-or-flight trance until I'm inches away, not even noticing how the man hasn't flinched once.

"Mr. Fanucci, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Agent Omaldo demands. My body freezes as I turn to look at the scariest woman I have ever met: the leader of the F.B.I task force I've been hired as a consultant for.

"But he-" I look over at the man and see that it's just Agent Chase, "Oh."

Chase murmurs indignities and other melodramatic remarks, crossing his arms like the drama queen he is. I huff and slide down in my seat, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Did you recover the package?" Agent Omaldo asks. I nod, carefully handing her the small but surprisingly heavy parcel. She rips it open, not even caring about the damage her oils and the temperature could do to it.

"Careful," I squeak as she pulls out a bronze sculpture. She snarls at me and inspects the art.

"Nice work." She pats me on the shoulder and dumps the statuette into my lap.

"Dio mío. Do you realize what this is? This is the bronze statuette of Aphrodite from the Metropolitan Museum of Art! This has to be, at least, late Hellenistic period!" I exclaim. Agent Omaldo raises an eyebrow, and I stop smiling. I don't know if I should be ecstatic that I'm holding it in my hands or terrified about what will happen to it. I wrap it back up and hold it tightly to my chest. Omaldo steps out of the car after it pulls up under a big awning, leaving the door open for a minute.