Joe ground his teeth, white knuckles crumpling the newsprint in his hand.  The story was as plain as the posting he’d just read.  Their plan was for naught.  His eyes darted to the red numbers on the nightstand, then back to the door.  A deep breath did little to calm his anger, but training kicked in, numbing the sensation.  At one time he’d welcomed the numbness, appreciated the increase of focus it brought to his work.  But going through life without feeling was merely an illusion – emotion can only be bottled so long.

The door opened, and he was faced with an image of himself, sans grey streaks, carrying two steaming cups.  He raised his eyebrows to acknowledge the arrival, taking in the slight thrust of the chin in his direction.

“Sorry, Pops,” the younger man said, placing the cups on the table and walking toward the computer, “got held up a bit.” 

“Right…”  Joe growled, “You going to tell me where you were?”

“Taking care of business.”  He frowned, squinting at the screen. “Damn!  Well, on to London, I suppose.”

Joe sighed and pushed the newspaper in front of the screen.  “You want to try that again, Chris?”

Chris’s eyes widened slightly.  “Seriously, Dad – that’s not my MO.”  He pushed the paper away and started for the bathroom.

Joe shook his head at his son’s retreating back.  He was still trying to come to grips with the way they’d been re-united.  A good agent would have shoved the family ties aside and arrested the man.  He was not a good agent. 

“So what’s the plan?”  Chris plopped back down in the chair beside him, picking up the coffee.

“Same plan, different target.”

Chris nodded thoughtfully.  “Works every time?”

“We’ll see.”  Joe had stumbled upon this little game the year before while investigating a string of thefts; whether he was undercover or joining in for the hope of early retirement, he had yet to decide.  But the inside research on the subject had its perks, and he had a fool proof plan in place.  If they could just get a chance to test it out…

*********

Zeke LaRoche couldn’t stop smiling as he shut the door of the storage unit.  At the rate he was going, he’d need something bigger.  He still couldn’t believe his good fortune, dampened only slightly by the cleaning job he’d just completed.  Something didn’t seem right about the fact that someone would go through the trouble of slaughtering a fellow hunter, and then leaving the trophy to be snagged by someone else.  All he could figure was that he’d interrupted the kill, and been able to carry off the prize before the killer returned.  Maybe they’d planned on carting off the body with the tub, but he wasn’t about to hide someone else’s skeletons. 

*********

Grady walked purposefully through the museum.  Mutt followed, dark glasses hiding probing eyes.  The logistics of this listing was a nightmare; he hated to call in outside help. But with the tub tucked securely away, he wasn’t about to let another item slip through his fingers.  The increased activity in the museum due to the upcoming science night was both a blessing and a curse.  There was little chance the generator would remain after the event, so he had to use the distraction to his advantage. 

He’d already passed the enormous exhibit, when his attention was captured by an exotic beauty.  His next step caused him to sideswipe the burly man following her. 

“What de ‘ell?  Oh, so sorry.”  The man caught his arm and side awkwardly, as if to keep him from falling, and then turned away.  “Wait up, Essie.”

Mutt didn’t think too much of it until the security guard grabbed his arm.

“Hey, man, what’s the deal?”

“Why don’t you come this way, Sir.”  The guard pulled him to the side of the room, then quickly patted down his sides.  Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small bauble.     

“Nice try, Buddy, but this belongs in the exhibit next door.  Come on.”  A little rougher this time, the guard led him out of the room.  Before leaving, Mutt glanced back and saw the woman watching the scene.  She winked.   

***********

Nadya Skrivonek settled back down in the first class seat, careful not to upset the glasses between the seats.  A knowing smile crossed her lips as her new husband joined her. 

“Flushing the evidence?”

“No way you’ve never joined the mile high club before,” Mark whispered, “You’re far too skilled in enclosed spaces.”

“That’s what you get for marrying a thief.”  She winked demurely.  “We know how to improvise.”

“Improvise, right.”  He shook his head.  “So, you enjoying our little honeymoon?”

“Paris was a wash.”  She rolled her eyes.

“True, but we’re still working the kinks out of our…  partnership.”

“Yeah, and if you’d trust my ideas, it might be more of a ‘partnership’”  She punctuated the word with her fingers.  “I know we’re used to working solo, but we have two great minds here, and I bet we could blow everyone out of the game if we do this right!”  Her irritation was cloaked by the playful tone.  “Just let me play a bigger role than your shadow this time around.”

He pulled her into his arms.  “I’m sorry, Babe.” 

She waited, but he left it at that.  She sighed and nestled in closer.  So this was married life.  Time to adapt.  It was all about the game.

A flight attendant passed by.  “More champagne?”

The two disentangled, and accepted the drinks.  

“Here’s to London.”  He toasted.

“It’ll be smashing.”

****************

An excited twitter ran through the crowd as the magician stood.  With the push of a button, a giant drape fell from the ceiling, enrobing the massive structure.  A wink. 

“Now, what are the magic words?”

The crowd of children yelled as one, “Abracadabra!”

The  magician waved the wand, and the drape fell, revealing….  the attractive assistant.  A delighted gasp filled the room then applause broke out. 

“DISPARITUS!”  The magician and the assistant disappeared.  Two attendants exchanged a look. 

 ***********

Two days later, the following message was posted.

 March 7th, 2009 

We are down yet another contestant.  Seems Mutt will be a little tied up this year, and perhaps the next few as well.

Congratulations are due to the current owners of Cockcroft-Walton generator.  I don’t envy you the job of storage.

Glad to see everyone's still in one piece. Let's see if it stays that way. 

-         Kitty Murine  

Item #3: (Cairo, Egypt) Tuthankhamun's Gold Throne