Menagerie: Jack of Clubs

Prologue -- The First Heist

A shrill scream tore through the night as the Barnes Foundation blazed to life.

That isn't the signal. Do I go? Do I wait on them? Jack's hand stalled on the ignition, not sure if she should make a break for it or wait for the signal. Every second pushed against her, insisting she cut her losses and get the hell out of dodge before the cops showed up.

Should I call Mongoose? Mongoose would know more about what was going on inside, and if Jack should flee before things got too serious. Slowly, her hand wandered back to the wheel, still not sure if this was the right move or not. Her finger punched the call button, and the hollow tone of the phone dialing momentarily blocked out the sounds of the alarms.

Jack took a deep breath and willed for something to happen, whether it was the boys return or that their boss picked up the phone.

The call was picked up, but Jack heard nothing for a moment, then:

"Jack, if you're not currently in danger, can you hold on for a s- not that way!" Mongoose's voice cracked out like a whip, her stress palpable. "That isn't an exit!"

One...two...th-ree... Jack decided, then and there, that she'd give the boys until the count of five before she considered her escape. The engine roared to life just as a massive shadow slammed through a window in a shower of glass, barreling out to the car with something tucked in his arms, a smaller shadow on his tail.

There was a brief struggle at the door, and Jack fought down the urge to scream at them. The painting was massive, the door was small, and the gap of time between them and orange jumpsuits was smaller.

Finally, after what felt like Jack's entire life, the two men managed to wrestle the painting into the car and swung in after it. "Go go go!" Shouted the larger of the two, pointing forward like he hoped that would hasten their escape.

Jack, needing no further encouragement, stomped on the gas and shifted gears automatically; the squeal of tires fusing with the plaintive wail of the sirens.

The car was eerily silent once the door slammed, as if shutting the doors also shut up Jack's co-conspirators. Mongoose still hadn't said anything after her initial outburst, and Jack quickly checked to make sure she hadn't hung up.

Just as she was about to ask, and see if the woman on the other end of the phone was okay, herself, Jack's question was answered.

"What in God's green earth was that?" The call finally crackled back to life, each of Mongoose's words carefully measured and even. It sounded more like a polite question than a demand, and honestly Jack would have been more comfortable if their boss had decided screaming at them was the better option.

"That was the alarm for the Barnes Foundation," Neither sensing nor caring about the danger in the air, Cobra's response was breezy as he hastily gestured for Croc to swap the painting with a small statue. "Loud ones, too, those ones." Cobra studied his souvenir lazily, a small frown creasing his forehead.

"You mean the alarms that went off after you touched the thing I told you not to touch?" The woman on the phone still sounded less than impressed with Cobra's prize, and it didn't really feel like a question.

There was a small pause, in which Jack's teammate glanced expectantly at the car's screen.

"I just don't see what the big deal is, we're already st-" Cobra's attempt at bargaining was quickly cut off by Mongoose's guidance, Jack tuning back in at, "There's a visitor center a few miles down 95, and a car waiting for you guys. Swap the car, burn this one out, and keep moving."