by Jason Levine
Table of Contents
Prologue: The Museum Job
Chapter One: Legal Employment
Chapter Two: The Sampson Technologies Job
Chapter Three: Going From Bad To Worse
Chapter Four: Through The Brick Wall
Chapter Five: Giant Flying Thomas Head
Chapter Six: Junkyard Guru
Chapter Seven: Equipment And Training
Chapter Eight: Icarus Ascends
Chapter Nine: Edge and Brawn Attack
Chapter Ten: Heading Underground
Chapter Eleven: The Return Of Edge And Brawn
Chapter Twelve: Questioning Edge
Chapter Thirteen: Exit Edge, Enter Eddie
Chapter Fourteen: General Control
Chapter Fifteen: The General Makes His Move
Chapter Sixteen: Return To Sampson Technologies
Chapter Seventeen: The Voice In The Dark
Chapter Eighteen: General Confrontation
Chapter Nineteen: On His Own
Chapter Twenty: Heidi The Healer
Chapter Twenty One: Secret Origins
Chapter Twenty Two: A Plan Forms
Chapter Twenty Three: Junkyard Supply Run
Chapter Twenty Four: Emerging Ally
Chapter Twenty Five: The Hunt For Thomas
Chapter Twenty Six: The General’s Guard
Chapter Twenty Seven: The Stage Is Set
Chapter Twenty Eight: His Plan Goes Awry
Chapter Twenty Nine: Answers And Mysteries
Epilogue I
Epilogue II
Acknowledgments and Dedication
About The Author
Defenders Of Shadow And Light
Ghost Thief
Jason Levine
Copyright © 2016 by Jason Levine
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
ISBN 978-1534984479
http://www.TechyDad.com
“Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers.”
- Isaac Asimov
Prologue: The Museum Job
Murray Gastev tossed a bag out of the window of the Natural History Museum and into the alleyway below. He glanced out of the window. The bag had landed safely on the mattress he had positioned next to the dumpster earlier. Murray climbed through the window and dropped to the street below. Alarms blared through the night. Murray knew that this sound meant that the sounds of sirens would follow. He hated that sound.
“Four guards in the gems area,” Murray chastised himself. “Four! Not three.”
He could hear sirens now. The police were here. Murray picked up the bag and risked peaking inside. The gems still looked just as good as they had in their display cases. Before Murray removed them, of course.
“Good. Gordon said the payment would be much less if they were damaged.”
There was shouting coming from the museum now. The pounding of footsteps let Murray know that he had no time left to talk to himself. It was time to get away from there as quickly as possible. Murray ran from alleyway to alleyway. There was a whole network of these narrow passages that people tended to avoid. For Murray, though, they were highways to cover great distances without being spotted.
Murray paused for a second after making his fourth turn. Though the noise of the alarm and sirens had faded, Murray still heard footsteps. The police had figured out that he was heading through the alleys and were pursuing. He peeked around the corner.
“Big mistake,” he thought to himself. Two officers had just rounded the corner and were trying to figure out which way he had gone. They spotted him and ran towards him, shouting for him to stop.
“No thanks,” Murray yelled back. “I’d rather not be arrested if it’s all the same to you.”
Murray ran down alleyway after alleyway. One of the officers tripped over a wooden crate and tumbled to the ground. His partner glanced back for a moment before continuing the pursuit. Murray whispered a few choice curses at his rotten luck. This last officer was good. He dodged obstacles like an expert and was relentless.
“It figures that I’d get the one guy on the force that’s a former triathlon athlete,” Murray thought to himself.
Murray kept in shape, but he could feel his lungs starting to ache. He couldn’t keep this up much longer. The officer hadn’t drawn his gun yet, but Murray knew that this was likely only due to the winding path that this section of alleyway took. The part coming up straightened out which greatly increased his chance of being shot at.
Murray felt pain in his back as something slammed into him. He crashed to the ground and his bag of ill gotten goods slid down the alley ahead. His arm was pulled behind his back and Murray forced himself not to cry out despite the pain. He heard the sound of handcuffs being pulled out.
“You’re under arrest,” the officer began.
Murray twisted his body and kicked. The officer tried to remain on top of him, but Murray managed to wiggle out from under him. Murray got to his feet quickly and faced the officer.
“Sorry about this,” Murray said as he kicked the officer in the stomach. The officer doubled over in pain and the handcuffs clattered to the ground. Murray scooped them up and quickly slapped them on one of the officer’s wrists. He pushed the officer backwards against a wall and slapped the other end of the handcuffs around a bent pipe along the wall.
Murray pulled the gun from the officer’s holster.
“Drop that now,” the officer ordered.
“Don’t worry,” Murray replied, stepped out of range as the officer swiped at Murray with his free hand. “I’m not planning on firing this thing. I just want to make sure you don’t use it on me as I leave.”
Murray popped out the magazine out and tossed it aside out of the officer’s reach. Then he turned the gun upside down and pulled back on the slide. The bullet in the chamber dropped into his hand. Murray tossed the bullet in the same direction as the magazine. He bent down and carefully placed the gun on the ground.
“Now then,” Murray said. “This has been fun, but I’ve really got to go. I’d say ‘see ya around’, but I really hope I don’t.”
Murray grabbed his bag and ran down the alleyway as the officer struggled against the handcuffs and yelled after him. As the sounds of the officer faded, Murray grumbled to himself.
“That was way too close. After I get paid, I’m telling Gordon that I’m out. A normal job will be much less stressful than this.”
Chapter One: Legal Employment
Murray groaned. An e-mail had just come into his inbox from his boss. The only time that happened was when the guy wanted to give him more work or yell at him for work he had already done. Filled with trepidation, Murray opened the e-mail. It was the latter. His boss wanted him in his office and he wanted him in there now.
“Hi, sir. Is something up?” Murray asked as he poked his head into the office of Albert Sorington the Third, Senior Manager in Charge of Information Analytics. Albert insisted on his subordinates using the entire title when addressing him and demanded his title be spelled with the appropriate capital letters.
As Albert’s title implied, he was both the head of the department and quite full of himself. He was five feet tall and two hundred pounds, but acted as though he were six foot seven and
built like a Roman god. On the rare occasion that he exchanged pleasantries with his employees, he never failed to “accidentally” mention the beautiful women he was dating or the movers and shakers he was hanging out with. When Albert was out of earshot, though, Murray’s co-workers grumbled that Albert only had his position because his uncle was a stockholder with a significant stake in the company.
“Hello, there, Mr. Gastev. Please come in and have a seat,” Albert said pleasantly. Murray began to walk into Albert’s office. It would be fine, Murray reassured himself. Albert prided himself on being nice when others could hear him. It was only if the door was closed that things would get dicey.
“Oh, if you don’t mind,” Albert added. “Please close the door.”
Murray shut the door. The click reverberated through the office as if he were shutting himself in a metal cage.
Murray sat down opposite Albert. Albert’s desk was a large, elegant looking wooden construction that was definitely not the standard manager’s desk. His chair was posh and extremely comfortable. Murray knew this from experience when Albert ordered him to clean a virus from Albert’s top of the line computer. Albert had opened yet another suspicious sounding email and didn’t want to get IT involved because “it’s none of their business.”
Murray squirmed in his seat. While Albert’s chair was built for comfort, the chairs he had in his office for “guests” were designed for maximum discomfort. The seat was lumpy and uneven. The back was at an odd angle and could not be adjusted. The chair’s height could be changed but even the highest setting left one feeling like Albert was looking down on them. Worst of all, Murray could have sworn that there was a metal spring in the seat designed to move into the most uncomfortable spot at any given moment.
“What’d you want to see me about, boss?” Murray asked as the spring dug into his rear.
“I wanted your opinion on this,” Albert answered, sliding a folder across the desk.
Murray picked up the folder and opened it. Inside was the report he had written about the Donaldson account. Murray’s confidence surged.
“This is the Donaldson account,” Murray answered. “I handed this in last week and my contact at Donaldson said they were thinking of signing a multi-million dollar contract with us.”
“Oh, they did, did they?” Albert mocked. “Well, I was golfing with their CEO the other day and he’s really upset that the numbers weren’t higher.”
“The numbers were actually pretty high,” Murray countered. “They were ten percent higher than similar clients.”
“The CEO figured that the numbers should be at least fifty percent higher than other clients.”
“Sir, there’s no way to do that.”
“Oh, really? Are you an expert on these matters. Tell me, MISTER Gastev, how long have you worked for this company?”
“It will be five months on Monday.”
“And do you know how long I’ve worked here?”
Murray sighed. “Ten years.”
“Exactly. I think I know a LITTLE more than you do about these things.”
“Sir, the laws clearly state…”
“Don’t quote me the laws. Now you’re going to redo this report until you’ve gotten them to at least sixty percent.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Murray said. “I’ll get back to you next week on this.”
“Tomorrow morning,” Albert corrected.
“Excuse me?” Murray asked.
“You will get this report back to me by first thing tomorrow morning. If it’s not on my desk when I get in tomorrow, you’ll find yourself on the streets.”
“Sir, there’s no way I can get this done by five tonight.”
“Who said you could leave at five? You’d better stay here for as long as it takes to get these numbers right. I don’t care if you’re here all night. Either you get this report done by tomorrow morning or you’re done. Now get out of my office and don’t come back without those numbers where I say they should be!”
Albert stared at Murray as if daring him to argue. Murray wanted to slap Albert across his face with the Davidson report and storm out. He needed the job, though. His rent was coming due in two weeks. Without his paycheck, he’d be stretching his cash reserves to the breaking point.
“Yes, sir,” Murray said dejectedly as he walked out of the door.
Murray flipped through page after page of regulations. Everyone else had long since gone home. The lights were all off except the ones above Murray. His cubicle was sparsely decorated because Albert insisted that decorations distracted his workers. This didn’t apply to Albert, of course, who always had some new poster or painting on his wall and some new expensive looking desk toy. Murray sat back in his chair which squeaked under the strain. He had requested a replacement and was, of course, denied.
Murray pointed to a line in a book and copied it down. He did a few calculations on a sheet of paper and groaned. He had been able to finagle another couple of percentage points by skimming very close to the legal limit. That had taken him about seven hours of work–punctuated by a one hour dinner that he was sure Albert would have argued was tantamount to stealing from the company had he known about it. There was no way he could get many more without breaking some laws–something he wanted to avoid that at all costs.
Murray’s cell phone rang. He looked at the number and rolled his eyes.
“Speaking of breaking some laws.”
Murray picked up the phone.
“Hi, Gordon.”
“Hey, M. Listen. I’ve got this sweet gig lined up. Might be a little tricky but a big pay day. You interested?”
Murray glanced around nervously to double-check that he was alone.
“Look, Gordon. I appreciate everything you’ve sent my way in the past, but I’ve already told you that I’m trying to go straight. That last gig was a little too close for comfort.”
“Too close? You had plenty of time before the police arrived.”
“I got out of the museum as they stormed in and then that officer tackled me in the alley.”
“Yes, but you got away, didn’t you? And those gems netted us both a healthy payday.”
“Right, but I’ve got a job now. I’m not looking to jeopardize it.”
“Come on. You can’t fool me. I know you miss the excitement and challenge. This one’s a hoot. So, some bioengineering firm has…”
“No, Gordon. I don’t want any details. I’m not interested.”
“Can you honestly say your job is better than the gigs I find for you?”
“Yes, it is.”
“You’re lying. I can always tell when you’re lying.”
“Fine. It’s not as exciting, but at least I don’t have to worry about being arrested every day.”
“Yeah, unless your jerk boss makes you the fall guy.”
“Look, the guy’s bad, but he’s not that bad.”
“I’m just saying. It’s been my experience that jerk bosses don’t get where they are by helping their subordinates. They do it by stepping on as many people as they can as hard as they can. Think it over and give me a call back. I need an answer by tomorrow night.”
The phone clicked and Murray set it down. He rubbed his eyes and looked through the rules and regulations again for another couple of minutes before slamming the book shut.
“Gordon doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Murray said to himself, standing up.
He paced around the office. When he stopped, he was looking at Albert’s door. The door was unlocked. Albert had left it slightly ajar so that Murray could drop the report off when he was done. Murray reached for the door to push it open, but stopped.
“No. I’m not going to risk this job based on Gordon’s paranoia,” Murray said.
He walked back to his desk, opened the book, and began leafing through more regulations.
When midnight hit, Murray decided to call it a night. He had only managed to take the report from ten percent higher to fifteen perc
ent. Even then, he was in the gray areas of at least a dozen laws. If the regulatory agencies took a dim view of his creative interpretations, the company could be looking at a million dollar fine. He might even wind up in jail. Murray wasn’t comfortable risking that any more than he already had.
Murray closed his books, logged off of his workstation, and picked up the report. He walked over to Albert’s office and opened the door. He half expected to be yelled at as he entered, but, of course, Albert was gone.
“We get to work late, but he goes home early every day,” Murray griped. “And how does he convince the higher ups to give him all this stuff?”
Murray placed the report on Albert’s desk. As it landed, it touched Albert’s mouse. His screen flickered to life. Albert had neglected to log off. Murray sighed.
“Of course, he’d forget. Some days I’m surprised the guy knows the difference between a mouse and a keyboard.”
Murray almost turned to walk out, but spotted something on the taskbar on Albert’s screen. Dept Finances. Murray knew he shouldn’t, but he found himself moving the mouse to the taskbar icon and clicking it. A financial report filled the screen detailing how funds were allocated across the department.
“New employee workstations. Employee office equipment. Break room renovations?” Murray questioned. “John is the one with the newest computer and that’s two years old. I was told my chair will be replaced when it breaks in two and the break room ceiling is STILL leaking.”
Murray flipped through page after page. In it, Albert attested to how he was distributing the money to benefit his employees even though not a single cent was used for those purposes. Murray angrily went to print the document on Albert’s new, private, full color, photo quality printer–Albert couldn’t be bothered to use the eight year old printer everyone else used which jammed constantly. As Murray opened the menu, he noticed another document in Albert’s “most recently used” list which read “Murray Gastev.” Murray opened the document and read it, his face growing red with anger. The document detailed how Murray was stealing company resources, not meeting expectations, and constantly left early from work. The report concluded by mentioning how Murray was unable to meet the required totals on the Davidson account and would have cost them a multi-million dollar contract had Albert not swooped in, worked an all-nighter, and saved the day. The report recommended that Murray receive seven months probation and forfeit his yearly raise if his work ethic didn’t improve.
