by A. K. DuBoff
TROUBLED
SPACE
Volume 2: Stealing Trouble
By
A.K. DuBoff
TROUBLED SPACE: VOLUME 2 - STEALING TROUBLE
Copyright © 2018 A.K. DuBoff
All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles, reviews or promotions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Publisher: BDL Press
Cover Copyright © 2018 A.K. DuBoff
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1: Shifting Focus
CHAPTER 2: Blast from the Past
CHAPTER 3: Getting Down to Business
CHAPTER 4: Invitation to Garden
CHAPTER 5: Art Appreciation 101
CHAPTER 6: Tenuous Alliances
CHAPTER 7: A Daring Escape
CHAPTER 8: Frenemies?
CHAPTER 9: Debts Paid
CHAPTER 10: Double-Cross
CHAPTER 11: Showdown
CHAPTER 12: Onward!
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TROUBLED SPACE
Volume 2: Stealing Trouble
Everything will definitely go wrong.
After trading in a life of crime to run a successful coffee chain, the crew of the Little Princess II realize that legitimate business is their own personal form of hell. All paperwork, no thrill.
To fill the void in their lives, they decide to take from the rich to give to the poor. It’s a nice sentiment, even though they’ll probably just end up using the proceeds to upgrade their own spaceship.
With a sleazeball businessman in their sights, they set out to steal some high-value artwork to turn around and sell on black market for a profit. In their usual fashion of leaping without looking, nothing goes according to plan. Old nemeses, incorrect assumptions, and bad luck are just the beginning of their problems.
CHAPTER 1: Shifting Focus
— — —
Jack threw his left shoe against the wall, causing a rainbow of lights around the sole to flash on impact. “I’m bored.”
Alyssa’s tawny eyes narrowed as she glared at him from across the spaceship’s common room “Did you seriously just throw your shoe?”
“Yeah, why?” Jack replied with a shrug.
“And where did you get light-up shoes?”
“From the SpaceMall catalogue. I found all kinds of useful things are in there, like—”
“Didn’t we cancel that subscription?” Triss interrupted from her chair next to Alyssa.
“Yeah, Finn had acquired way too many toasters,” the other woman confirmed.
“It was exactly the right number of toasters to meet my copious toasting needs,” Finn replied without looking up from his tablet.
“Well, you wouldn’t let me leave my room, and those were the only shoes in the catalogue.” Jack crossed his arms. Mid-thirties or not, he was firm in his conviction that one was never too old for shoes that illuminated with every step.
Triss sighed. “But gold with rainbow lights… Honestly, Jack.”
“They’re awesome and you know it.”
“Someone can pull them off, I’m sure,” Alyssa said, “but I’m not sure that person is you. The gold kind of clashes with the silver of your cybernetic eye.”
Jack itched above his ill-fitting mod. “Not like I had a choice about the model.”
Alyssa brushed her dark bangs from her eyes. “Fashion choices aside, I hear ya. I’m bored, too.”
The mood on the Little Princess II had been trending toward restless for the past month, and shoe-throwing was certainly enough to tip the scales toward chaos. Jack knew it, and he was counting on it.
“I think it’s time we took on a new mission,” Finn declared as he rose from the couch next to Jack. “This whole ‘relax and enjoy our life of luxury’ thing isn’t cutting it.”
“Oh, stars, here we go…” Triss breathed.
Jack couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as his crewmates began reverting to their old ways. He’d been planting the seeds here and there in the month since they moved onto the new ship. While he’d been content for a while, adventure called. He could see the same desire in their hearts; all he needed to do was give them a little push.
“So, I was thinking we could go after some art,” he said.
“Whoa, let’s back up a minute.” Alyssa spread her hands palm down in the air in an attempt to rein in her crew. “We have enough money to last us for our whole lives. Stealing art to sell on the black market would be—”
“Who said anything about selling it?” Jack interjected. “That’s why I suggested art. It has no innate value other than the emotional attachment a person is willing to pay for. We find some pieces we like, and… appropriate them.”
“But, Jack,” Alyssa shot back in her most condescending tone, “that would be illegal.”
“And since when did we decide to stop flirting with the boundaries of legality?”
Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “Around the time when we became legitimate business partners?”
“Was that a question?” Jack asked. “I think I heard a question mark at the end.”
“This isn’t up for discussion.”
Jack tilted his head. “The use of a question mark, or the art heist?”
“I think both matters deserve some time on the floor,” Finn suggested.
“Don’t start…” Alyssa warned the other man.
“Question marks aside,” Jack continued, “owning a start-up chain of coffee shops isn’t quite the same thrill level as a life of crime.”
Triss chuckled. “That’s overselling your past a bit, isn’t it, Jack? Before us, you could barely snap the clasps on your shoes without finding yourself in trouble.”
“Even tying shoes can be a thrilling endeavor under the right circumstances,” he replied.
“So, have we dropped the issue of that question mark?” Finn cut in.
Alyssa groaned. “I don’t know why I stay on this ship!” She threw her hands in the air.
“You love us and you know it.” Jack grinned.
“But back to the matter at hand.” Triss rose from her favorite chair and clasped her hands behind her back. “Monetary circumstances aside, we do need to find a way to occupy our time. We can’t just sit around here watching vids and throwing shoes at the wall all day.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jack muttered.
“You were the one who started this discussion in the first place!” Triss exclaimed.
Jack shrank back into the couch. “Sorry, I was just being contrary. I’m not used to you agreeing with me.”
“See? This is our problem.” Triss returned to her seat and propped up her feet on the acrylic coffee table. “We’ve been cooped up here for too long. We need some common objective to get us focused and working together again.”
“Like an art heist.” Finn flashed a winning smile.
Alyssa frowned. “Can’t we think of something a little less risky? We are supposed to be legitimate business professionals now, after all.”
“Right, like ‘legitimate business people’ all follow the law,” Jack scoffed.
“He does bring up a valid point,” Triss agreed.
<
br /> Finn leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “What if we stole the art from rich people and donated it to a worthy cause?”
“You can’t donate stolen merchandise, Finn,” Alyssa objected.
Triss nodded. “Yeah, obviously we’d have to sell it for cash on the back market and then donate that money to the worthy cause.”
“Again, there’s still the issue of the whole theft and then black market dealings thing with this plan…” Alyssa protested. “What if we—”
Jack interlaced his fingers. “I don’t know about you, Finn, but this is sounding like a pretty great plan to me.”
“This isn’t a plan! It’s the kernel of an idea, at best.” Alyssa crossed her arms.
“All right. So, we can’t rule out a plan if there isn’t even a plan yet to rule out.” Jack eyed her. “So, tell us, Alyssa, why won’t this plan work?”
As he expected, Alyssa took the bait. “Well, to pull off something like this, you’d need to first research wealthy individuals who weren’t quite on the up-and-up with their dealings. Filter for those with decent enough aesthetic tastes to maintain a saleable art collection, and then maybe you’d have a decent target list. But then you’d need to identify where they kept that art, and then figure out a way to get access to the structure. Assuming you were able to do that and got out with the art, it’d then be a matter of having the correct black market contacts to unload the paintings while securing untraceable credit payments.”
Finn shook his head. “No, you could never get credit payments. You’d need to trade the art for a legitimate commodity and then sell that for credits.”
Alyssa nodded. “Okay, so then you’d need a transport ship for a legitimate business to handle the distribution of those goods.”
“Which we have,” Jack pointed out.
“But there’s still the matter of the black market contacts,” Alyssa protested.
“I know a few people…” Finn offered.
Alyssa sighed. “But you can’t just go robbing any old person.”
“I’ve had a naughty business person list in my back pocket for years,” Triss said.
“So, in what way is this an unreasonable plan?” Jack asked Alyssa.
“You’re going to get us all arrested,” she replied with a scowl. “It’s only been a month since our outstanding warrants were cleared.”
Finn grinned. “And we won’t have any new ones if we don’t get caught.”
“I place those odds at less than ten percent,” Alyssa said.
“We’ve overcome worse.” Jack rose to his feet and stretched. “How do we get started?” A chill seeped into his left foot. He looked down and realized the limb was only covered in a sock. “You know, I think we need a heated floor.”
“Now that you mention it,” Finn said, “I have noticed a few things about the ship that I’d change.”
“Really, the layout is all wrong,” Triss admitted. “It seemed so great when we were shopping, but when you live in a place for a while—”
“No, we’re not having this discussion!” Alyssa glared at her shipmates. “We just got this ship last month. We’re not wasting money trading it in for a new one.”
“I get not spending our existing money on it, but what if we were to come into some excess funds from an individual with exceptional aesthetic taste?” questioned Jack.
“No, we are not stealing art from wealthy, corrupt business people so we can buy ourselves a new ship.” Alyssa stamped her foot.
“You know, that actually sounds like a pretty good idea…” Triss said.
“I’m inclined to agree.” Finn nodded.
Jack shrugged. “Sorry, Alyssa. Overruled.”
“Let the record show that I was against this,” she muttered.
“Perfect. Now who’s our target, Triss?” Jack asked.
She smiled. “I have just the person in mind.”
The group headed from the lounge area into the dining room that doubled as their planning space. Of course, having not actually gone on a mission since acquiring the ship, the secondary function had yet to be utilized.
“Why am I suddenly hungry?” Jack pondered aloud as he stepped into the room.
“Gah, me too.” Triss rubbed her tummy. “I could really go for some pizza.”
“There are leftovers in the fridge,” Alyssa said. “If you’d rather eat than share this target of yours, then by all means proceed. You know where I stand on this.”
Triss eyed her suspiciously. “You’re trying to distract me with food again.”
“Me? No.” Alyssa shook her head.
“You know, it’s this room!” Finn exclaimed. “We always eat in here.”
“See? This is why we need a new ship!” Jack sighed. “We can’t have food and business meetings in the same space.”
“But what about snacks?” asked Triss.
“Oh, that’s a good question.” Jack stroked his chin. “Maybe we have to draw a line between bite-sized foods that don’t require a napkin versus those that do.”
Finn screwed up his face. “Think about it, though. With something like a buttery cookie, you really do need a napkin. Yet, I would consider that to be solidly in the business-meeting-snack-food category.”
“He does bring up a valid point.” Triss nodded.
Jack looked around at his colleagues and noticed that Alyssa was trying to back away from the table. “I think we can revisit this issue at another time. We should go over the heist target while the overall plan is still fresh.”
“Right.” Triss placed her hand on the tabletop and activated the holoprojector. The image of a bald, squat man in a black business jacket appeared. “Meet Vincent B. Ordello.”
CHAPTER 2: Blast from the Past
— — —
Finn’s mouth fell open as he took in the holographic representation of the businessman. “Triss, you can’t be serious!”
The woman’s lips curled into a predatory grin. “Oh, quite.”
“That’s way too high-profile a target, Triss,” Alyssa stated. “No way that this’ll work.”
“Oh, come on! When have we turned down a challenge?” Triss asked. “I mean, just look at the guy! He’s practically asking to be robbed.”
Jack did have to acknowledge that Vincent’s T-shirt read, ‘Go ahead and try’. He wasn’t sure the context was quite the same, but he chose to take it as a sign. “Not entirely sure who he is, but he looks good to me.”
Alyssa groaned and rolled her eyes. “Vincent is a Class-A sleazeball, surely, but what about his taste in art?”
“That’s where his wife Merica comes in,” Triss continued. “Apparently, Vincent’s reputation of being an uncultured dirtbag was starting to hurt business, so he decided to try to buy himself some class—much like anyone with too much money and too little common decency. He found himself an impressionable young Art History major with an exotic accent to be both his arm candy and personal stylist. She’s recently completed a remodel of his estate on Estrada, complete with seventy million credits’ worth of new art installations.”
Jack scowled. “What a stupid amount of money to spend on art.”
“Can you think of some better way to spend it?” Alyssa asked.
“Um… a spaceship?” he ventured.
“Think of the luxury yacht we could have for seventy million…” Finn said with a wistful look in his eyes.
“No, this whole plan is based on us taking the art to sell on the black market, which we’ll trade for goods to sell for credits to donate to the needy,” Alyssa said firmly.
“Yeah, that was the original plan,” Jack replied, “but I like ship upgrades much better.”
“I think we’re all in agreement on that.” Triss returned her attention to the holographic image. “So, anyway, the remodel is complete, but Vincent hasn’t yet moved into the property. That means his full security detail won’t be there.”
“And when’s the move-in date?” Jack questioned.
&nb
sp; “Two days from now.”
“That’s no preparation time at all!” Alyssa exclaimed.
Finn raised an eyebrow. “Since when do we prepare properly for anything?”
Alyssa took a deep breath. “Fair point.”
“I do,” Jack muttered, but no one was paying attention.
“I’m thinking we raid our old equipment stash and have at it,” Triss suggested.
Jack cocked his head. “Wait, what equipment stash?”
“Oh, you know, just some… stuff,” Triss faltered.
Jack’s one good eye narrowed. The thermal sensors on his cybernetic eye revealed that her face was flushed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“We maybe kinda didn’t need you to have that eye mod,” Triss admitted.
“Truth be told, we completely forgot about the tech we had hidden down there,” Alyssa added. “It was only after you already had the eye that I remembered. It was kind of a dark time when we stashed it.”
Jack took a step back. “Let me get this straight… You barely even used me on the op that you modded me for, and you didn’t even need those mods to accomplish what little use you did get out of me?”
Triss looked down. “Yeah…”
Alyssa placed a soothing hand on Jack’s shoulder. “But remember, the eye adds character.”
“You’re all unbelievable.” Jack shook his head.
“On the flip side, though,” Finn said in the ensuing silence, “we will need those mods to complete this heist, I expect.”
“Yes, we can definitely figure out some way in which you’re absolutely necessary,” Triss affirmed.
“Aw, you’d do that for me?” Jack asked.
“Absolutely.” Triss patted his hand. “Now, we’ll need to get the stealth suits out of storage, and some high-res projectors.”
“Plus the laser pistols,” Alyssa added.
“Well, obviously.” Triss smirked. “Finn, can you reach out to your contacts and get them warmed up to the idea of fencing some expensive paintings?”
“Can and will do.” He saluted.
