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There was a small burst of static then Stiles was talking in Derek’s ear.
“Yo, Derek, can you hear me?”
“I can hear you,” Derek replied. His lips barely moved as he spoke. He’d had a lot of practice at this.
“Good,” Stiles said. “The guard is going to pass by you in a minute and a half. You’ll have ten minutes to get in, open the safe, and get back out before the next rotation.”
“I know,” Derek said. He could see the guard at the far end of the hall. He pretended to be interested in the art on the wall in front of him. “Is this card going to work?”
In his pocket Derek’s hand closed around the plastic card Stiles had given him. The card was blank, but it was supposed to get Derek into the high security areas of the small art gallery.
“It’s going to work,” Stiles told him. “I made it.”
Derek didn’t reply to that. The guard was passing right by him. The guard was a middle aged man, his uniform was neat, and a taser hung on his belt. He swiped his card at the keypad next to the door to signify that he was making his rounds on time.
The moment the guard was out of sight Derek walked over to the door. He pulled the card from his pocket and swiped it. He breathed a sigh of relief when there was a beep and the door opened for him.”
“I’m in,” Derek told Stiles.
“I see you,” Stiles said. “The good news is the guards won’t. I’ve looped the footage so if anyone checks the tapes all they’ll see is an empty hallway.”
Stiles was sitting in the back of his van in the alley way next to the art gallery. He had his laptop open in front of him. In a window at the bottom right hand corner of the screen the live feed from the security footage was playing, and Stiles watched Derek make his way through the small corridor.
The safe they were after was in another room at the end of the hall. The hall and the room where the safe was, like the rest of the building, were all perfectly climate controlled and had a state of the art security system. Unfortunately for the gallery owners’ state of the art didn’t mean flawless, and Stiles knew how to exploit the flaws that remained.
Derek’s key card got him through the next door and then he was face to face with the door of the safe.
“You okay, big guy?” Stiles asked. He had switched his feed to the cameras inside the vault room, and Derek was standing stock still, he wasn’t sure if the feed had frozen.
“I’m good,” Derek said. “Just taking a moment.”
“You have eight minutes to crack it, get what we came for and get out again,” Stiles pointed out. “Once the guard swipes his card they’re going to be alerted that someone’s down there.”
Derek turned and looked up at the camera above the door. “I know, Stiles.”
“Then get to it.”
Derek faced the safe again and got to work.
This is where the gallery kept the paintings that had recently been sold, and were waiting for pick up. This was the easiest time and place for Stiles and Derek to get their hands on the painting they were after. Attacking the armoured car that would transport the painting was more trouble than it was worth, and the gallery the painting was destined for was out of the country. If they didn’t get it now they’d lose it.
The safe was old – older than Derek and Stiles had expected when they had first taken the job. Considering the security system the rest of the gallery had it surprised both of them that the safe hadn’t been upgraded as well. It filled almost the entire room and the iron was cold under Derek’s fingers as he worked.
Stiles watched the grainy black and white video of Derek, and kept one eye on the countdown clock he had going.
Derek was one of the best safe cracker’s in the business and the safe’s combination lock was no match for him. Derek pulled open the heavy door and Stiles cheered softly in his ear.
“Four minutes,” Stiles said. “The painting should be on the third shelf down from the top.”
The interior of the safe had been customized. There was only a gap of five inches between the shelves, and a single painting lay flat on each shelf.
Carefully Derek pulled out the canvas in question. It was the one they’d been provided a photograph of.
Derek snapped the wooden frame the canvas was attached to. He managed to get the canvas off without damaging it too much. He’d had a lot of practice at that as well.
Derek closed the safe door then left the room. He pulled the door shut behind him and rolled up the canvas. He tucked it inside his jacket then zipped up his jacket to hold it in place.
When Derek swiped his card to get out, the door didn’t open.
“Stiles we have a problem,” Derek hissed. “Your fucking card isn’t working.”
“Give me a minute,” Stiles said. He started typing frantically. He had already hacked into the gallery’s security system, now he needed to find a manual overdrive for the door. They hadn’t wanted to do that because it would alert someone of their presence.
“We don’t have a minute,” Derek pointed out.
Stiles swore under his breath. Derek was right. Stiles switched video feeds again and saw the guard walking towards the door.
“Stiles.”
“Hang on. I’m going to buy us some time.”
Stiles abandoned his quest to open the door. Instead he looked for a distraction.
“What are you doing?” Derek demanded.
The sound of a fire alarm and water pouring down from the ceiling answered Derek’s question. Derek frowned as cold water plastered his hair to his head.
Stiles watched as the guard went into emergency mode and started to evacuate the building.
“Try the door again,” Stiles said.
Derek swiped his card again. This time there was a beep and the door opened.
“Thank God,” Derek said, wrenching the door fully open and slipping out.
“Keep your head down, I’ll start the van,” Stiles told him.
No one paid any attention to Derek as he walked briskly out of the gallery; the guards were urging people to move quickly. A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk and Derek slipped through and blended in easily. He sped up as he rounded the corner into the alley.
“Did the painting get wet?” Stiles asked as Derek climbed into the passenger seat of the van.
“The painting’s fine,” Derek said. “I’m the only thing that got soaked.” He shook his head to prove a point; water droplets rained down on Stiles and the interior of the van.
Stiles rolled his eyes and pulled out of the alley onto the street. They could hear fire engine sirens approaching, so Stiles drove in the opposite direction.
“Let’s see this thing then,” Stiles said once they were a few blocks away from the gallery.
Derek pulled out the canvas from his jacket. It wasn’t a large painting, only two feet by two feet. It was in good condition even after being ripped from the wooden frame; there was no water damage.
“So that’s worth fifteen million dollars?” Stiles asked, eyeing the painting. It was nice, but modern art had never really been his thing.
“Apparently,” Derek nodded. “Lydia said she had several interested parties, so it could go for more if she decides to auction it.”
“I never understood that,” Stiles said. “It’s stolen, why are people willing to pay so much for something this hot?”
Derek shrugged. He looked up from the painting to Stiles. “People do stupid things for beautiful things.”
Stiles stopped at a red light. He reached over and smoothed Derek’s wet hair back. “That’s true.”