The Last Heist

10 minutes until I noticed. Sloppy.

It was a Wednesday. An ordinary day. It was particularly grey and overcast, with straggly clouds looming above, looking like they had their own agenda. It seemed that the sun had given up and gone home for the day, despite it being rather early in the morning. 

Walking down Jefferson Street in Carlsbad, California, it wouldn’t have been easy to see somebody tailing you. They could have easily been another member of the crowd, rushing to meet family or friends, or trying to get to work on time. However, as the crowd began thinning, it became increasingly obvious. 

Eight minutes and thirty-six seconds later, the crowd had lessened dramatically, but that man was still there. 

At nine minutes and twenty-two seconds, there was barely anyone but me and him. 

At ten minutes, on the dot, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck, as if somebody was slowly tracing needles down my spine. 

When I turned, I saw him standing about 100 meters away. He was trying to look casual, donned in a simple dark-blue T-shirt and jeans. He wore what looked to be expensive running shoes, and a baseball cap obscured his eyes. Despite that, I got a very clear sense that he was looking straight at me. 

I quickened my pace, trying to gauge the situation. He sped up, but it was so slight that I wasn’t sure. I broke into a moderate jog, and quickly rounded the corner in front of me. As soon as I left his line of vision, I dashed as fast as I could, scrambled down Home Avenue and swung around the first left, into a currently-abandoned carpark. 

Eddie met me at 11:15, as agreed. It wasn’t a very nice place to be, which was exactly why we chose it. The car park looked average, with cracks in the cement and worn paint outlining parking spaces.

“Mac! How’ve you been, buddy?” 

We were ecstatic to see each other again. We were practically best friends, Eddie being the first member of the crew, but we hadn’t seen each other in over a month, what with trying to avoid the police and keeping the operation running. His pale, boyish face broke into a broad smile. The freckles and the faint shadow of a stubble prominent on his otherwise flawless skin. His straw-red hair was messy as always, like he’d just just stepped out of a shower.

Then, his smile faded.  “Sue was captured. We can’t keep doing this - it’s the sixth time in a little over two and a half months. Members are leaving. People don’t want to be caught, Mac! We’ve lost over 23.65% of our gang, and with the current standings and future prospects…” 

Eddie yapped on about numbers and stats and whatnot for the next two minutes and twelve seconds. He always was a geek, and the numbers man of my operation. I rely on him for his calculating mind, but he can be quite overbearing sometimes.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Have some faith, would you?” I interrupted. He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Mac, you don’t understand.” He said, shaking me vigorously . “The numbers… they don’t lie.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I know how to handle my crew, capishe? I got this.” I snapped, pushing him off me. “I trust everyone in the operation as much as I trust you. However… I have a suspicion.” Eddie calmed down and looked at me inquisitively. “What do you mean?.”

“There was a man following me on the street at exactly 10 a.m. He wore a baseball cap low to hide his eyes, but he was definitely eyeballing me. High likelihood he was a cop. Coupled with the recent arrests…” I looked at him knowingly. Judging by his face, Eddie had come to the same conclusion. “There’s a mole.” he whispered carefully.

“Exactly. And I need your help to figure out who it is.”

I am in a white room. The door is locked, with a small flap for food below a glass pane. I groan and get up, staggering towards the door. Let me out, I gasp weakly. Let me out. Please - 

I bolted up in bed, covered in sweat. My breathing was ragged and fast, heart thumping a thousand beats per second. Just a dream, it was just a dream. No different from every other night. I calmed myself down and climbed out of my bed. I took some pills and went to shower. After that, I made the call. 

“So what, Mac? Why’d you call us all here?” groaned Vicky, angsty as always. 

“What’s so important that you had to call an emergency meeting?”

“Yeah, boss.” Matt’s low voice grunted. “I was about to eat my breakfast!” 

“Shut up, numbskull.” snarled Nat, elbowing Matt in the ribs. “If the boss calls us in, it’s gotta be important.” She looked at me with a steely glare. “What’s up?”

Looking around the room, I slowly assessed everyone’s demeanor, looking for any clues as to who is the mole. There was Vicky, the planner; twins Matt and Nat, the brawns and the spy respectively; and Eddie, the brains. 

“Listen, I know we have a huge membership loss. We’re dropping like flies. We need a win to get morale up - and I know exactly what to do. We’re going to heist the Diamond Wave.”

Everyone gasped. The Diamond Wave was the world-famous blue diamond, valued at upwards of $150,000,000. Its namesake originated from a strange impurity. When viewed from a certain angle you can see rolling waves within the diamond. The Diamond Wave was exhibited in the GIA Museum, likely highly secured with the latest technology. It would take a mixture of bravery, competence, luck and craziness to even attempt such a heist but the payoff would be well worth the risk. “I’m going to need all of you to do your jobs perfectly, to the letter. Got it?”

Muttering erupted throughout the room. I hadn’t told Eddie, and I could hear the wheels turning in his brain, analyzing the probability of the heist. After about three minutes and forty-four seconds, it seemed everyone had come to an agreement. 

“You got it, boss!” they shouted simultaneously.

The following days were busy, preparing for the big event. Vicky was poring over the schematics of the museum, with Eddie helping her figure out the course of action. Matt was stocking up on guns and ammo and planning a safe getaway 

I am bound to an operating table, staring straight up. Blinding lights and surgeons scuttle around me, yelling for 10 cc’s of this and that, asking the nurse to give them the drill. They lean down, straight over me, and everything fades to black as they inject something into my arm. 

I arose at 10 a.m., and went through my daily routine. It was another dream, nothing more. I popped some more pills and went on with my day.

I headed to the museum for some preliminary checks before Nat went in later for a closer look. About five minutes and six seconds from the museum, I saw him. Dressed in the same clothes, 500 meters away. Looking at me. Panicking, I rushed through the throng of people and made my way into the museum. I flashed my ticket at the gate and bolted inside. 

I looked back, but couldn’t see him and thought that I’d lost him.  I was sure that someone from the group sent him after me. It may have been irrational, but I was sure of it. I no longer trusted any of them.  Taking deep breaths, I assured myself that I was safe and continued with my plan. For the next two hours and fifty-six minutes, I walked around under the pretense of being a geological enthusiast, enjoying the ornate marble rooms filled with priceless gems.

Eventually, I found my way into the room with the Diamond Wave. The room was the biggest I’d seen yet, 100 feet tall and 250 feet wide. There were pillars with baroque designs, and the marble construction of the room was lacquered with intricate gold. I was in awe, not only by its beauty, but by the heavy security. I counted four guards stationed at each exit, and four more guarding the diamond. There were likely laser pointers, invisible to the naked eye, but I couldn’t be sure at that point. The diamond itself must have been set on a weighted stand, which will set off an alarm if removed. I took a mental note of the positioning of the security cameras and left. I texted Nat the information for her secondary checks later that night. 

I am in a wood-paneled room with soft carpets and a warm atmosphere. I am lying down on a soft, comfortable long sofa, and there is a man sitting across from me. I can't see his eyes. He sighs. “Well Mac, I haven’t been seeing much improvement. However, I think we’re getting somewhere. Why don’t you tell me more?” He leans forward in his chair.

Must have been another dream. I sighed, “Well, at least it was better than the last one.” I collected myself and rolled out of bed. “Time to get to work.”

I tailed each member of the group over the following three days. I had grown increasingly suspicious of each of them, only divulging necessary information to them, and I’d resolved to cut all of them out of the gang after the heist. I had to do it to stay safe. They’d said they were trying to help me, but I didn’t care. A couple of curious events happened as I tailed them - Vicky talking about a ‘meetup’ to someone over the phone; Matt whispering to a man at the gym, of which I caught the words ‘visiting hours’; Nat passing a file to someone in a café; and Eddie sneaking into a bar late night with someone I’ve never seen before. These events solidified my suspicions, and I cut them out even more.

I re-entered the museum. My plan: to monitor the room for the entire day. I was sure one of my inner circle was the mole - that had to be the only reason why so many of our recent jobs were busted. So, I gave each of them a different time for the heist: 10 a.m. for Vicky, 3 p.m. for Matt, 6 p.m. for Nat, and 9 p.m. for Eddie. 

I settled in the Diamond Wave room, occupying a small brown bench in a corner. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a baseball cap and a dark-blue shirt in the crowd. My heart beat faster. Beads of sweat gathered on clammy palms. I rubbed my eyes and checked again, but he had disappeared. I relaxed, and waited patiently. 10 a.m. rolled around, followed by 3:13 p.m., 6:48 p.m., and finally, 9 p.m. At 8:58 p.m., I noticed extra security sidle into the room, trying to discreetly scan around for potential dangers. 

That settled it. Eddie was the mole. My mind reeled as the realization hit me. Eddie - the guy I’ve known for years? The man who’d partied with me, robbed with me, lived with me, been my first recruit - he was a mole?

Shakily, I got to my feet, and was suddenly face-to-face with the man in the cap. He stuck a needle in my arm, and all went black.

I awoke in shock, snapping my head forward. What happened? I blinked, my vision blurry from whatever was injected into me. As it cleared, I realized I was in a room with the man, sitting at a table with a file in front of me. The room was dark, and the table was illuminated by a simple lamp. 

“Read the file.” growled the man.

“I know what I’ve done, OK? I don’t need to read your file.” I hissed. 

“READ.” he said, louder, shoving it into my hands. I snatched it, slowly flipped it open and began to read. 

There was a picture.  Of me.  Angry-looking and… something else, something that I couldn’t place my finger on. My clean-shaven face twisted into a grimace, with my brown skin dry and my black hair messier than Eddie’s.

Mac Bilbur. Patient #0783. Room #0652.

Diagnosis: Acute Psychosis. 

Symptoms: Extreme hallucinations. Unable to distinguish reality and fantasy. Paranoia. Obsession with time, down to the second. 

Prescription: Therapy, operation, and Prolixin

Family: Nat, Matt, and Vicky Bilbur, children. Eddie Bilbur, brother.

Sue Bilbur, wife (deceased).”

Wh-what was this? I wasn’t insane! Sue… my wife? She was dead? No, she had been captured by the police! Nat, Matt, Vicky, and Eddie were my family? My mind was racing, grappling with this new information. Suddenly, it dawned on me. Matt talking about visiting hours, Vicky talking about a meetup, presumably with me, Eddie speaking to someone at a bar about me, and Nat giving someone - a friend? - my file. I remembered. The therapy, being admitted, the operations, Eddie ‘betraying’ me by not visiting me… it all made sense. The nightmares were the real world. I’d been living in a fantasy.

I looked up and saw the man. He was wearing a doctor’s coat on top of his regular clothes and I could see his eyes: pale grey.  Almost like an overcast day. 

“Mac… do you remember?”