Heinz Dilemma

Lewis' tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his brows knitted together, and sweat glistening the palms of his hands. This next part was the most important. If he didn't get this right, he could kiss his freedom--and his family--goodbye. 

Outside, snow fell from the sky, the reflection of the moon glistening off the little flakes. Families gathered together, celebrating with open bottles of wine, board games, and more. Televisions glowed in living rooms around the country as one year came to a close and another began.

Lewis should have been home, should have been partaking in the festivities. For him, however, there would be no celebrating this year. He had forsaken the joy of the holidays--though not all of that was his fault--for this one moment. This one moment that would determine if he would ever feel joy in his life again.

He raised his wrist to his face, squinting at his watch. The dark of the night seemed darker than normal, and it was hard to see what was going on. Not to mention the fact he hadn't worn his glasses. In his haste to leave the house he had forgotten them. That hadn’t been a great start to the evening.

Twelve-fifty-five, and thirty-nine seconds. It was almost time. In four minutes, everything would change, for better or worse. 

His eyes flicked to the diamond before him. The Diamond of the Gods, or so it was called. It was the seventh largest diamond ever discovered. It had been donated to the museum by a dying billionaire in an attempt to spite his dying children. Lewis didn’t really care, though. All he cared about was how much it was worth.

A glass case surrounded the pressure jewel, kept secure in a vacuum sealed chamber. If the air pressure was disturbed at all, alarms would sound and the museum would close down. Supposedly fool proof. If the glass was disturbed at all, even bumped, the doors and windows locked. Lewis had seen it happen once, when a child had crawled past the security rope to try and touch it. It had taken three hours for everyone to be inspected and shuffled out.

Lewis had found a way to cheat the system. It had taken him years of careful planning, getting a job as a security guard, going to school for engineering, becoming chummy with the museum director. All for this moment.

He sucked in a deep breath, trying to ease the growing anxiety inside him. He still wasn't sure his plan would work. Beneath the glass case, in the podium that propped up the diamond, was a series of pipes connected to a large vacuum that kept the air pressure at virtually zero. It was an older, rudimentary design of a pressurized chamber. However, Lewis was thankful for the outdated technology. It had allowed him to make a few...modifications.

Unconsciously, Lewis felt at the trigger in his pocket. When he pressed it, the museum's entire system would reset. Power, security--anything and everything that was powered by electricity. That included the pressurized seal. The vacuum would cease, just for a tiny moment. In that moment, the pipes he had installed would kick on, diverting the pressure to a sealed circuit and leaving the diamond defenseless.

He had tested the system countless times in his home, with as faithful a recreation he could manage of the museum's system. It had taken him a few tries, and during the first few seconds of the reboot, he had to up the pressure a little bit higher than normal to make up for the second off lost time. It had worked at home.

Despite that, he still had no idea if it would work here. The museum's specifications were different than his own and even after his repeated measurements, some bits were bound to be off. Yet he had done as much testing as possible. Now....now all he could do was hope and pray.

He looked at his watch again. One minute left. He sucked in a deep breath once more. This was the big moment. This was when his life changed.

In one minute, the New Year would begin. After deliberating on when the change should happen, he had finally landed on New Years. His original thought was Christmas or Christmas Eve, but far, far fewer people celebrated until midnight on those days. On New Years, however, people would be celebrating until the morning. Hopefully, that included whoever was monitoring the museum’s security system.

How foolish of him. Depending on someone else's foolishness as the linchpin to his plan. It was all he had. There was no other way to pull this off and he was running out of time. If there had been more time, he would have figured out a way to pull this off with no risk.

However, despite the obvious risk, in a strange way, planning this heist around New Year's was more than just a strategic move. It was symbolic. A new year, a new him. A new life, both for him and his family.

Thirty seconds left. He pulled the trigger out of his pocket and flipped open the case. A bright red button stared back at him, and his thumb traced its rim. He glanced at the bag beside him, where the fake diamond lay inside. It was a terrible recreation. But no one would notice until he and his family were long gone.

He closed his eyes. An image of his kids appeared in his eyes. Jonesy and Taylor. How he wished the image of them was from five years ago, before the diagnosis. Instead, he saw them in hospital gowns and shaved heads.

He opened his eyes and held the watch to his eyes.

Ten.

This diamond would change that. It would wipe away all of his debt he had spent on their treatments as well as the money he had spent on an engineering degree so that he could steal the diamond. He would have a lot left over.

Nine.

He would have enough to even buy a new house. He could get his kids the new Playstation that wanted, perhaps a bigger Tv to go along with it.

Eight.

His wife had been wanting a new car. A truck for driving in the snow.

Seven.

Once the kids were better, she would finally kick that drinking habit. She had only picked it up after the diagnosis. He didn’t blame her. He had wanted to drink himself.

Six. 

It all came down to this. He blinked as sweat dripped into his eyes. He wiped it away furiously with the back of his hand.

Five.

He hesitated. Fear gripped his heart, like an icy fist in his chest. Could he really do this? If he failed, he would never see his family again. Jonesy and Taylor would die from the cancer. His wife would drink herself to death.

Four. 

If he didn't do it, he lost them anyway.

Three.

His heart thudded in his chest, louder than an airplane engine. The trigger became slick with sweat in his palm and his thumb hovered over the button.

Two.

Lewis gritted his teeth. His mind went blank.

One.