The Master Theif

Chapter 1. The Easy Jobs

The air was cold, musty, and overall plain unpleasant. All reasonable people were inside in bed, after all, it was just past two in Salt Lake Utah. But Jackson James was not a very reasonable person. Otherwise, he would not be about to break the law.

Jackson James walked down the street to a nice little antique shop on the corner. As he walked down he thought about the instructions he had been given. "Knock out the power. Grab the typewriter and get out."

He didn't know why this typewriter was important nor did he care his employer was paying him not to ask questions which was fine with him.

He got to the shop and instantly turned in between it and the previous building. He continued to walk until he was under a ten- foot window. He looked at the building he wasn't about to rob and ran straight at it. At the last second, he jumped at the structure and ran up it before bounding off it itself. He flew through the air releasing an impish laugh before catching the edge of the window.

He pulled himself up, and stood on the edge and peered into the smudge covered window. He saw one cane, at least ten chairs, and several vases of different shapes and sizes. Perfect, this must be the storage room, Jackson thought. He then tugged at the window but it refused to budge. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife. He dug it into the side of the window and scraped at the putty holding it in place. Once gone he grabbed the window and walked forward. With the putty gone he could easily remove the window. He set down the window and looked for the power box.

This place was open all night so fully knowing someone would come check it when the power went out, he slid on a mask, one that half was blue and skeleton while the other half was black except for one blue eye made of glass so he could see, and pulled out a thick rod that was about five inches long. He continued his search for the power box and found it next to a crystal chandelier. He switched all the switches and heard chaos from downstairs. He waited until he heard footsteps coming his way. He pressed a button on the rod and it extended to about four and a half feet.

He slid into a corner and hid. He watched as the thick oak door opened and a scrawny built man in his thirties walked in. He headed to the box but before he could even open it Jackson whacked him hard over the head with his pole. The man collapsed.

Jackson crept over to the door and listened. He waited but heard nothing this was good and he sped down the stairs. When he got lower he heard others conversating about the power outage. This was expected, and so planned out. The building was broken into two parts on this floor he just needed to move into the room the typewriter wasn't.

He slid into the room opposite of the typewriter and found something very breakable, a very expensive looking yellow vase. He picked it up and threw it across the room. He heard several screams as he darted from the room and into the room of which his prize was kept.

He saw the others leaving to see what had happened just like he planned. He quickly looked for the typewriter for he new even the dumbest on earth could not be distracted by a broken vase longer than a few minutes. He spotted it and ran over he picked it up and almost fell over it was much heavier than he expected. He glanced over to the cash register and quickly grabbed it as well.

He carried them up the stairs and toward the hole of which the window once was held. He set them down and went to the bed he took off every blanket, sheet, and pillow case. He carried them over to the typewriter and cash register. He promptly put the typewriter in one of the pillow cases and the cash register in the other and then tied them to the other sheets, making a long rope to lower them through the hole. Once he felt them touch the bottom he let go of the rope and went to grab the window. He slowly crept back and stepped onto the window ledge. He then pulled the window firmly back into its original place. He looked at the ground ten feet beneath him and jumped he reached out and grabbed the window ledge of the other building which was four feet lower than the other window. Being five feet nine inches he was now inches away from the ground and simply let go.

He ran over to the sheets and untied them from the pillow cases. He swung them both over his shoulder and sped off. He had to hurry, he still had to get his money from his client and then steal the typewriter back.

Jackson laughed aloud, for tonight was going to be fun.

                                                                                         .........

"Where is he" shouted the large man in an even larger trench coat to the other thugs that swarmed him like a moth to a flame.

"He claimed he would be here an hour ago." The rough voice grumbled, but as he said this he saw a shadow in the distance. Within in the same moment as it was there it was gone. He signalled his guards to ready the guns they all held ready in their pockets.

"Do you really plan on shooting me?" Asked a voice from behind him. He quickly jumped around to see a surprisingly young boy probably around seventeen holding two pillow cases over his shoulders. "And here I thought we were friends."

"We are if you succeeded, and if you didn't... Let's just hope things went as you planned." The man laughed gesturing to the gun in his hand.

Jackson set down both pillow cases and revealed one. within it was an old typewriter it was made of gold and some green gems decorated the sides.

"Whats in the other pillow case?" Asked the man harshly.

Jackson beamed as he said "It's a little souvenir I picked up for myself from the antique shop. Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't I'm afraid I am just a curious man." Huffed the giant.

Just then a loud noise happened from behind them all of them readied their weapons, as they looked to see what happened.

While this was going on Jackson switch the pillow cases. When the others got back with a cat he was done.

"Don't shoot the cat." Jackson said, "So it made a noise, cats make noise."

The leader of the group signalled them to drop the cat. They did and it scampered away.

"Give him the money." The leader said eyes focused on the pillow case he thought to be holding the typewriter. They handed him the money and he stuffed it in the pillow case that really held the typewriter. He swung it over his shoulder.

"Pleasure doing business with you." he said then sped off until he vanished into the smog.

"Get it out." The leader demanded. One guard came forth and removed not the typewriter he had expected but a register.

"What is this!" shouted the man as he slammed his fist on it. When he did so it popped open. It was empty except for a little recording box. The man pulled it out and pressed the button on the side. From the speakers sprouted an impish laugh, but all the man heared was his own plots to get revenge.