Beauty in Value

I slipped through the back door, bypassing the lock with a twist of my picks and barely a sound. I crept forward, soft-sole shoes only touching concrete at the toe.

Peeking around corners as I went, I made it to the central room unhindered. There, on a pedestal, rested the item I sought.

It looked benign. An orb of twisted silver glinting in the light, but it couldn’t be defined by its appearance.

Most thieves sought things of beauty to define their value. I’d sought a thing of value that defined its beauty, and she was breathtaking.

I spotted the camera in the corner, no red light confirmed my success in cutting its power; they’d know I’d been here anyways- by then it’d be too late.

The silence urged me on and it felt almost anti-climactic to simply pluck it from its stand like fruit from a bowl, but it was mine now. I reminded myself that obtaining it was the easy part. Keeping it was where the trouble lay.

Every twenty-four hours from now until the end it would send out a ping, betraying my location.

Now I was racing time and the vengeance of its antecedent to success.