The Thief and The Smuggler

5: The Cuban Job

The Cuban Job

The humid night air of Havana wrapped itself around Alina like a suffocating blanket as she stood on the rooftop of a crumbling building, her eyes scanning the luxurious mansion ahead. The rhythmic beat of distant salsa music carried through the streets below, a stark contrast to the tension in her chest. This was no ordinary heist—it was a high-profile job, one that would test her abilities, her nerves, and her loyalty to Gabriel.

Tonight, the target was a powerful Cuban businessman named Alejandro Vega, a man who had amassed a fortune through a web of illicit dealings, including smuggling precious artifacts out of the country. His private mansion, perched on the edge of the city, held one such artifact: a rare Aztec gold mask, rumored to be the missing piece of a long-lost collection. On the black market, it could fetch tens of millions.

Gabriel had been watching Vega for months, slowly piecing together his operation, mapping out every possible route, every security detail. After weeks of planning, tonight was the night. And Alina was the one who would pull it off. Gabriel trusted her for this—she had proven herself time and time again.

From the back of the van parked discreetly on a side street, Gabriel watched her every move. His sharp eyes studied the screen in front of him, which displayed a live feed of the mansion's exterior, cameras and sensors, and the silent communication device in Alina's ear. He was close, but not too close. His presence was an invisible weight—calm, calculated, always watching.

"Alina, you're clear to move," Gabriel's voice crackled through her earpiece, steady as ever.

She adjusted her position on the rooftop, glancing down at the alleyway below. The mansion was heavily guarded, and the security was as tight as Gabriel had predicted. Guards patrolled the grounds, their footsteps echoing in the distance. Cameras blinked in and out of view, their red lights flashing with each sweep of the courtyard. But this wasn't the first time Alina had faced such challenges. She was prepared.

"Copy that," she whispered back, her voice low and controlled. She exhaled, focusing her mind. This was her element. The night was her canvas.

Alina slipped into the shadows, moving silently across the rooftop. The soft padding of her boots barely made a sound on the worn tiles as she dropped to the next level, landing with a barely audible thud. She paused, listening for the movement of guards. Then, with fluid precision, she slid along the edge of the building, peering down into the courtyard where the mansion's main entrance lay.

"I'm at the north side," she murmured into the earpiece, her voice unwavering. "Preparing to make the move."

"Good," Gabriel's voice came back, calm and unwavering. "You have three minutes before the guards rotate. The window to the east is open. Once inside, disable the cameras in the hallway, and I'll guide you from there."

Alina glanced toward the east side of the mansion, spotting the faint silhouette of a security guard disappearing around the corner. The timing was perfect.

With a single fluid motion, she crossed the courtyard, ducking behind the cover of a tall bush just as the guard reappeared, his flashlight sweeping the area. Her pulse quickened, but her movements remained steady, controlled. She waited until he turned away before slipping through the open window on the east side.

Inside, the mansion was quiet, almost unnervingly so. The faint glow of streetlights outside filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the polished floors. Alina moved quickly, her steps calculated as she crouched by the door and pulled out the small device Gabriel had given her—a tiny EMP jammer designed to temporarily disable the cameras without triggering the alarms.