Griffing2
01-29-2012, 01:20 PM
This story is kind of long. I hope you enjoy it and didn't pass it up with a tl;dr. Thanks!
CHAPTER 1 - The Job
(These chapter titles are soft and can change at any time)
There was a low rumble of conversation all around the local drinking hole the locals called The Brass. It was a favored establishment for all the up and coming smugglers, men of fortune who frequented The Brass looking for work. Most patrons were crewmen looking to unwind after a long underway, singing songs and bragging of their recent exploits. They were mostly seated at the various scattered tables, the bar itself being occupied by their captains and senior leadership. Very few patrons were town folk or potential customers looking for work to be done. These customers were people who had something they needed shipped expeditiously, usually contraband that they did not want the Central government to catch wind of. It was easy to find such a ship that would do that kind of a job, typically two or three would be recruited and then the lowest bidder would get the work.
It was here that Richard Spencer stood, one boot on the low foot railing and both elbows on the bar, nursing half a glass of rum. He was unlike most of the other captains in The Brass that night, the look of former military that made him stand out purely from his no nonsense demeanor. All of Richard's crew would affirm that his stone face was a constant when he was on land, only looking truly free when he was in the skies. Richard wore tan trousers over his worn boots, a tucked in burgundy crew neck shirt with suspenders covered by a brown trench coat. Most would label him a former Revolutionary from that look, and they would be correct. Almost. As a member of the Central military, Richard climbed the ranks to Captain faster than most. He was assigned as the commanding officer of the Cactaur until the rift started between the two military mindsets.
There were those that believed the government was doing the right thing, taking the appropriate measures to assure the wellbeing of the people. Then there were the Revolutionaries. They were a small faction that believed they were being told lies to cover up what were really atrocities. People were going missing with no searches and assurances that they were runaways. It was either that or free thinking civilians were jailed for reasons that were unfounded, no trials. Richard was part of this group after noticing several of the people who worked for him complaining of missing family members. The Revolutionaries were branded traitors after taking their complaints up the chain of command. A civil war broke out and the fighting lasted several years. Great battles conducted in the skies with airships ensued. The Central government was greater in numbers with supplies to outlast the rebels, leaving most of the battles one sided. The surrender order was given and the Central government hunted down those with airships that were former military. Richard outfitted the Cactaur to be unrecognizable as government.
That ship had become a part of him, an extension of his body. Most of his crew stayed on with him when he decided to make the ship a small supply transport, along with his executive officer Nat Hussey and his first gunner Clint Chuffey. Most of them knew no other life than that of an airship crewman. He tried to pay everyone an equal cut in every run they made, most legitimate and some of a more shady nature. It was a hard life when there was no work, this month being one of those times. Richard was contemplating what he was going to do to make money. He took a sip of his rum and swirled the ice around in his glass as he sat it down, keeping his eyes to the bar.
"It can't be Richard, hero of the skies!" a familiar voice called from the entrance. Richard turned to see a portly man with a full beard. It must be nice to get a meal every day, he thought. The man walked up with hands outspread, a fancy timepiece showing on his fat wrist. A dangerous thing to flash around a bar in the Undercity. Richard gave a nod to the bartender for another glass of rum on the rocks. "I haven't seen you in, what, two years?" the man asked as he clapped a hand to Richard's shoulder, smiling pearly whites ear to ear.
"Almost," Richard replied with a half hearted smile. He looked around to make sure not too much attention was drawn to them. Too many eyes on me, Richard thought. He did not like the looks he was getting. "Pull up some bar and order a drink."
"Of course!" the man chortled,"Barkeep! I will have what this man is having. What is that, rum?" They were close then, both with elbows on the bar and leaning over. Richard stared at him and gave a slight nod.
"What brings you here, Calvin? I know you don't frequent these parts, judging from your belly and your attire." Richard knew he had to get what Calvin needed to say out of the way quickly, he did not want another ship captain to come up and try to steal his work.
Calvin Hobb caught the hint that Richard was alluding to and the smile faded quickly. "You should meet me at my estate later," he proposed,"To talk old times, of course. Bring Nat and Clint if you'd like. I know you still run with those two, and they are always welcome. Here." Calvin dropped a small card on the bar and drained his glass with his other hand. With a nod he swept away from the bar and walked out, all eyes on him. Richard picked up the card and finished his rum in one gulp. The address was in High Town. Looks like Calvin is doing well for himself after all. With that, Richard put down a single Central note and nodded to the bartender.
The streets were mostly empty, most of the pedestrians still occupying the various bars that linked the road. The Undercity was filled with streets like these, a haven for those who traversed the skies. Most in need of a stiff drink and some relaxation came here to release some tension of the hard life in the air. Richard took the main street to the railway system that led to either Hightown or the Skyport. He stood in front of the two train entrances and paused, wondering if he should grab Nat and Clint. Nat hated Calvin with a passion that was unmatched. Also, he knew that Nat would more than likely struggle to strangle Calvin because of his good fortune. Still, he decided that a new job from Calvin would be a bad thing to agree upon without his two good friends.
Richard arrived at the Skyport and could not help but bring a smirk to his face. He loved his ship, and being one of the smallest, it was one of the closer vessels to the entrance. The Cactaur was a small sloop of war, modified for speed and stability. He glanced up at his boat and admired the care that went into the upkeep that kept the Cactaur shining beyond those next to it. The brass underworks were all gleaming, the symbol of cactus gilded into the underside. All the handrails on the main deck were also made of brass, each post leading into the underworks for a seamless transition. All the ropes that lead to the three large hot airbags surrounded by an intricate net of steel were taut and tended to with precision. A walk around the back to inspect the main engine thrusters showed both of them clean of all steam residue and corrosion. His boys had been hard at work up keeping the material condition of the ship, ready to go underway at any time. He circled back around the brow and stepped up to the ship. A young man saluted him when he crossed the landing, Richard returning the salute and turning to the below cabin entrance. The main deck was small, with the steering unti up forward and the aft portion covered by a small island that either led up to the mast that jutted up the small gap in the airbags via a ladder, or down to the gut of the ship through a secure blast door. He tugged up on the lever that unlatched the door and stepped through, not forgetting to close the door and lower the lever to secure it.
Richard quickly made his way to the second level and looked around. Not many were eating, only the night shift charged with security and up keep of the ship. He saw Nat and Clint sitting across from each other, Clint talking up a storm and Nat sitting with the look of amusement on his face. Clint was the best at telling stories and keeping up a conversation. They both noticed Richard and Nat stood up immediately. "Attention on deck!" he called, all the crew in the room standing quickly. Richard raised a single hand, a motion for them to sit, and made his way to their table.
"We have somewhere to be," he said as he approached the two,"Grab weapons. I think Calvin has a job for us." He saw Nat squint slightly. Clint pursed his lips. "I see you both remember Calvin. He looks like he's doing well for himself and had a serious look when I asked him if he had work for us. He wants us to meet in Hightown in his estate. I don't trust him, but we need the money."
Clint nodded his agreement and walked off, "I'll get your piece, Nat." Nat stood there and put both hands in his pockets. He was slightly taller than Richard, with long dark hair down to his broad shoulders. Nat kept himself fit, and told everyone he was a swordsman of unequaled skill. Richard could remember many a time that his crew ran out of the now scarce gunpowder and had to go hand to hand with pirates trying to take their cargo. Clint showed up a minute later, handing Nat his sword belt and a revolver. Clint was a wiry man, thin and a hand shorter than the average man. Still, he was an expert marksman and he had a secret weapon. During the revolution, Clint had his right arm destroyed in a fire fight, the government used experimental prosthetics to replace his arm. He was now one of the few people in the world with a modified body, able to crust rock with his bare hand. His arm appeared to be skin and bone, but was really an intricate working of steel and clockwork.
The three departed the ship, Richard passing the word to the sentry at the brow to haul anchor should they not return in the morning. The train to Hightown was empty. The rich never took the trains as it was beneath their station in life. They could afford such luxuries, such as motor vehicles. Richard smirked a little, thinking it a little more than arbitrary that there would be trains to that location. They departed the trains and made way for the address on the card. Calvin's manor was akin to the surrounding neighborhood. A three storied manor made of brick. They approached the double glass doors and pulled the thin rope for the bell. A young maid answered the door and ushered them in, Nat commenting on how she could not possibly know how to clean and that her purpose was similar to the furniture. The main foyer had one long staircase that led to the second and third floor with a landing for each floor.
On the second floor stood Calvin in a maroon smoking jacket, walking down from the landing with the same open arm greeting he had in The Brass. "Richard! For a second I swore you were going to say no to even listening to my offer." He reached the foyer and Richard extended a hand, preferring not to let Calvin get that close to his person. While shaking hands the big man gave a nod of greeting to Nat and Clint, both of them returned with the same. "Come to my study and we will discuss business. Amber here will show you the way. I have some things I need to gather." He gave a look to the maid and gave another curt nod towards a large wooden door to the left.
Richard smiled politely and followed the young girl, trying hard to not pay attention to her garments and the way she swayed when she walked. Furniture indeed, he thought. His two friends were sniggering in the back, obviously making lewd remarks and gestures. He could read those two even without looking at them. Amber opened the door and bowed at the waist, a brief glance at her face revealing a blush. Those two always knew how to make a girl feel embarrassed in a good way. The three lowered their heads in thanks as they entered the dimly lit room. There were skins of various animals on the walls and books galore line the entirety of the study. A few globes and maps were scattered on the tables next to the lamps.
"There's no way that he has read even two of these books," Clint commented, all three knowing that Calvin was strong suited in weaseling and muscling his way around. He was never known for being the brightest. Still, there they were. All three took to the chairs, sitting comfortably and awaiting a master plan that would bring them a little more to fill their pockets. "Don't mind if I do, Calvin, "Clint said with a chuckle. He picked up a glass flute of wine that had various fruits floating in it and what appeared to be a crystal wine glass. He raised the flute to Nat and Richard, to which they both declined. He took a long draw of the wine and smacked his lips, half of it gone. "Good stuff, if you're a woman."
Three wine glasses later, Calvin walked into the room and shut the door. He had a few blueprints rolled up under his arm and a small walnut colored cigar case in his hands. This was one of the few times that they saw the man with a serious look on his face. "Alright, fellas," he said as he sat in the fourth chair, putting the various objects in his possession on the small circular table in the center of the four. He rolled out one map, rolled it up immediately and then took out a smaller one. He nodded his approval to the three and said, "What do you think?" They leaned in and saw it was a map of the Central Museum of Arts. Risky business, Richard thought.
"We are not thieves," he said with a nod of approval from his two cohorts," If there was something you needed shipped then we would be in business, but we will not rob anyone."
"Even if the money is right?" The cigar box was opened. In it was enough Central notes to last them at least two years in the air. "This could buy you and your two mates each a house. At least. I know you all prefer to live on the ship, so this could supply you with enough money to do what you wanted for a long, long time. Do you want to hear the job now?" He had their attention. Clint leaned back with the glass to his lips and his eyebrows raised. Nat, Richard could tell, was struggling with not bursting out in anger. He knew that Nat was against anything like this. They all knew what was coming. Richard looked to him and Nat gave a slight nod back. At least he was is willing to listen. Calvin saw the exchange and rolled right into his prepared speech. "The score is three paintings in the Central Museum of Arts. They are not too famous, but famous enough to be there. I want them in my personal collection I have hidden in this very mansion. I have the blueprints to the building and the security layouts. I know the guards and all their schedules. I will pay you one hundred thousand notes right now and another box like this one upon completion. What do you say?"
Richard leaned forward and put both elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him. Two hundred thousand? He pointed with his hands to the plans, "And do you have a plan or do you think you can just hand us all this and expect us to figure it out? We have never done anything like this and it can be extremely risky. I'm not trying to get me and my men put in the hold." He could see Calvin smile slightly, of course he had a plan. Calvin rolled up the main blueprint to the museum and showed them a the larger one from earlier. It was a map of the city's sewer ways. He looked up to Richard and his smile spread slowly from a grin to full on beaming.
"You might get a little dirty, but this manhole will lead to this entrance here." a pudgy finger with a gaudy steel ring pointed to what appeared to be a maintenance shaft leading into the building. "It will pop you up here, where the boilers for the electricity is. There is no one working there at night and my man in security will unlock the trap door for your entry. The museum has some tight security," Nat chuckled and shook his head. He leaned forward and put his hands on his face, coming down slowly and wiping his lips. Clint poured him a glass of wine and raised it slightly towards him, Nat accepting willingly.
"Continue, please, don't let me spoil the moment that you unveil your genius plan," he muttered into his glass, taking a healthy sip. Richard looked to Calvin, who was raising his eyebrows towards him. With a nod, Calvin looked back to the maps. He shuffled around more with blueprints and unrolled a map of the exterior and interior of the museum.
"There are security measures aplenty here, but most all of them are focused on not letting anyone into the building. Once inside, you are almost free to run around unhindered," Calvin smiled as he watched them raise their eyebrows at this revelation," As I have the guards in my pocket, who are the only security measure once inside the museum, it will be easy picking. They will open the maintenance hatch and then look the other way."
Calvin paused and motioned for a glass of wine from Clint. Clint passed him the flute and an empty glass, pouring himself a glass beforehand. "Stop drinking so much, Clint," said Richard, after seeing his gunner's cheeks turn slightly pink,"Calvin, I have some questions." He watched the heavy man pour his glass of wine, waiting for his full attention." Supposed we do get in, how are we to transport these paintings? We cannot certainly move around carefully with huge paintings in our hands. Are we to knock out or hurt these guards so as to not raise suspicion on their end? Lastly, how are we to get out of this museum and get you the paintings once we are done?"
"Easily!" Calvin exclaimed happily. He must have expected these questions, thought Richard. "Take the paintings out their frames and put them in these tubes." He opened his hand toward the corner of the study where three large pipes were resting against the corner. "You see, you roll up the paintings and put them in there. When you leave the sewer with the pipes no one will question on the street some men carrying what will appear to be normal. And no, you will not have to knock out anyone. The police will not know what to do if none of the guards are hurt. If anyone is hurt there will be questions towards them about your men's appearance. They will just wonder how anyone got in and out with three paintings. You take the paintings to your ship, I have a few guys that will pick up the pipes and bring them here. Don't worry, though," he chuckled," They will not know what is in the pipes, just that I am paying them to bring the pipes from your ship to my house."
Calvin leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his hands together. He was waiting for a response, Richard noticed. "Leave the room for a minute, Calvin. Let me discuss this with them," Richard said, looking at the plans and cigar box on the table in front of him. He didn't raise his gaze until Calvin let the room, waiting for the click of the door. "Let me speak," Richard said, already seeing Nat start to protest. Clint chuckled and put down his glass, putting a hand on his cheek to support his leaning head. Richard knew Clint would agree with him, Nat was the only one that needed convincing.
"Please, sir, tell me how you intend to make us thieves for a handful of notes."
"We need the money. That is more than a handful," Richard stated, nodding toward the cigar box. Nat, who looked as though he might jump out of his chair, leaned into the high backing of the chair hard as he crossed his arms. "Look, we need the money. You know this as well as I. We need to be able to support the ship. We are down to less than two hundred notes, and that won't even pay the docking fee we have accumulated this in port." He could see Nat's brow unfurrow a bit, he was making progress. "The plan looks pretty solid from my point of view. With this money we can leave Central," he gestured to the table as he said his last bit. "With this money we don't have to do anymore dirty jobs. I know you hate that as much as I do."
"Look," Richard leaned in towards Nat," If it bothers you so much, you can stay on the ship and look the other way." Nat shook his head and unfolded his arms, wiping his face slowly.
"Fine, let's do the job and be done with it," he said, raising an open hand palm down in front of Richard, "But we are going to pay the port fee as soon as possible and leave as soon as those paintings are off the Cactaur. What do you say to that, Captain?" Richard smiled and took Nat's hand for a hardy hand shake. They both looked to Clint and laughed, the man fast asleep in his own hand.
CHAPTER 1 - The Job
(These chapter titles are soft and can change at any time)
There was a low rumble of conversation all around the local drinking hole the locals called The Brass. It was a favored establishment for all the up and coming smugglers, men of fortune who frequented The Brass looking for work. Most patrons were crewmen looking to unwind after a long underway, singing songs and bragging of their recent exploits. They were mostly seated at the various scattered tables, the bar itself being occupied by their captains and senior leadership. Very few patrons were town folk or potential customers looking for work to be done. These customers were people who had something they needed shipped expeditiously, usually contraband that they did not want the Central government to catch wind of. It was easy to find such a ship that would do that kind of a job, typically two or three would be recruited and then the lowest bidder would get the work.
It was here that Richard Spencer stood, one boot on the low foot railing and both elbows on the bar, nursing half a glass of rum. He was unlike most of the other captains in The Brass that night, the look of former military that made him stand out purely from his no nonsense demeanor. All of Richard's crew would affirm that his stone face was a constant when he was on land, only looking truly free when he was in the skies. Richard wore tan trousers over his worn boots, a tucked in burgundy crew neck shirt with suspenders covered by a brown trench coat. Most would label him a former Revolutionary from that look, and they would be correct. Almost. As a member of the Central military, Richard climbed the ranks to Captain faster than most. He was assigned as the commanding officer of the Cactaur until the rift started between the two military mindsets.
There were those that believed the government was doing the right thing, taking the appropriate measures to assure the wellbeing of the people. Then there were the Revolutionaries. They were a small faction that believed they were being told lies to cover up what were really atrocities. People were going missing with no searches and assurances that they were runaways. It was either that or free thinking civilians were jailed for reasons that were unfounded, no trials. Richard was part of this group after noticing several of the people who worked for him complaining of missing family members. The Revolutionaries were branded traitors after taking their complaints up the chain of command. A civil war broke out and the fighting lasted several years. Great battles conducted in the skies with airships ensued. The Central government was greater in numbers with supplies to outlast the rebels, leaving most of the battles one sided. The surrender order was given and the Central government hunted down those with airships that were former military. Richard outfitted the Cactaur to be unrecognizable as government.
That ship had become a part of him, an extension of his body. Most of his crew stayed on with him when he decided to make the ship a small supply transport, along with his executive officer Nat Hussey and his first gunner Clint Chuffey. Most of them knew no other life than that of an airship crewman. He tried to pay everyone an equal cut in every run they made, most legitimate and some of a more shady nature. It was a hard life when there was no work, this month being one of those times. Richard was contemplating what he was going to do to make money. He took a sip of his rum and swirled the ice around in his glass as he sat it down, keeping his eyes to the bar.
"It can't be Richard, hero of the skies!" a familiar voice called from the entrance. Richard turned to see a portly man with a full beard. It must be nice to get a meal every day, he thought. The man walked up with hands outspread, a fancy timepiece showing on his fat wrist. A dangerous thing to flash around a bar in the Undercity. Richard gave a nod to the bartender for another glass of rum on the rocks. "I haven't seen you in, what, two years?" the man asked as he clapped a hand to Richard's shoulder, smiling pearly whites ear to ear.
"Almost," Richard replied with a half hearted smile. He looked around to make sure not too much attention was drawn to them. Too many eyes on me, Richard thought. He did not like the looks he was getting. "Pull up some bar and order a drink."
"Of course!" the man chortled,"Barkeep! I will have what this man is having. What is that, rum?" They were close then, both with elbows on the bar and leaning over. Richard stared at him and gave a slight nod.
"What brings you here, Calvin? I know you don't frequent these parts, judging from your belly and your attire." Richard knew he had to get what Calvin needed to say out of the way quickly, he did not want another ship captain to come up and try to steal his work.
Calvin Hobb caught the hint that Richard was alluding to and the smile faded quickly. "You should meet me at my estate later," he proposed,"To talk old times, of course. Bring Nat and Clint if you'd like. I know you still run with those two, and they are always welcome. Here." Calvin dropped a small card on the bar and drained his glass with his other hand. With a nod he swept away from the bar and walked out, all eyes on him. Richard picked up the card and finished his rum in one gulp. The address was in High Town. Looks like Calvin is doing well for himself after all. With that, Richard put down a single Central note and nodded to the bartender.
The streets were mostly empty, most of the pedestrians still occupying the various bars that linked the road. The Undercity was filled with streets like these, a haven for those who traversed the skies. Most in need of a stiff drink and some relaxation came here to release some tension of the hard life in the air. Richard took the main street to the railway system that led to either Hightown or the Skyport. He stood in front of the two train entrances and paused, wondering if he should grab Nat and Clint. Nat hated Calvin with a passion that was unmatched. Also, he knew that Nat would more than likely struggle to strangle Calvin because of his good fortune. Still, he decided that a new job from Calvin would be a bad thing to agree upon without his two good friends.
Richard arrived at the Skyport and could not help but bring a smirk to his face. He loved his ship, and being one of the smallest, it was one of the closer vessels to the entrance. The Cactaur was a small sloop of war, modified for speed and stability. He glanced up at his boat and admired the care that went into the upkeep that kept the Cactaur shining beyond those next to it. The brass underworks were all gleaming, the symbol of cactus gilded into the underside. All the handrails on the main deck were also made of brass, each post leading into the underworks for a seamless transition. All the ropes that lead to the three large hot airbags surrounded by an intricate net of steel were taut and tended to with precision. A walk around the back to inspect the main engine thrusters showed both of them clean of all steam residue and corrosion. His boys had been hard at work up keeping the material condition of the ship, ready to go underway at any time. He circled back around the brow and stepped up to the ship. A young man saluted him when he crossed the landing, Richard returning the salute and turning to the below cabin entrance. The main deck was small, with the steering unti up forward and the aft portion covered by a small island that either led up to the mast that jutted up the small gap in the airbags via a ladder, or down to the gut of the ship through a secure blast door. He tugged up on the lever that unlatched the door and stepped through, not forgetting to close the door and lower the lever to secure it.
Richard quickly made his way to the second level and looked around. Not many were eating, only the night shift charged with security and up keep of the ship. He saw Nat and Clint sitting across from each other, Clint talking up a storm and Nat sitting with the look of amusement on his face. Clint was the best at telling stories and keeping up a conversation. They both noticed Richard and Nat stood up immediately. "Attention on deck!" he called, all the crew in the room standing quickly. Richard raised a single hand, a motion for them to sit, and made his way to their table.
"We have somewhere to be," he said as he approached the two,"Grab weapons. I think Calvin has a job for us." He saw Nat squint slightly. Clint pursed his lips. "I see you both remember Calvin. He looks like he's doing well for himself and had a serious look when I asked him if he had work for us. He wants us to meet in Hightown in his estate. I don't trust him, but we need the money."
Clint nodded his agreement and walked off, "I'll get your piece, Nat." Nat stood there and put both hands in his pockets. He was slightly taller than Richard, with long dark hair down to his broad shoulders. Nat kept himself fit, and told everyone he was a swordsman of unequaled skill. Richard could remember many a time that his crew ran out of the now scarce gunpowder and had to go hand to hand with pirates trying to take their cargo. Clint showed up a minute later, handing Nat his sword belt and a revolver. Clint was a wiry man, thin and a hand shorter than the average man. Still, he was an expert marksman and he had a secret weapon. During the revolution, Clint had his right arm destroyed in a fire fight, the government used experimental prosthetics to replace his arm. He was now one of the few people in the world with a modified body, able to crust rock with his bare hand. His arm appeared to be skin and bone, but was really an intricate working of steel and clockwork.
The three departed the ship, Richard passing the word to the sentry at the brow to haul anchor should they not return in the morning. The train to Hightown was empty. The rich never took the trains as it was beneath their station in life. They could afford such luxuries, such as motor vehicles. Richard smirked a little, thinking it a little more than arbitrary that there would be trains to that location. They departed the trains and made way for the address on the card. Calvin's manor was akin to the surrounding neighborhood. A three storied manor made of brick. They approached the double glass doors and pulled the thin rope for the bell. A young maid answered the door and ushered them in, Nat commenting on how she could not possibly know how to clean and that her purpose was similar to the furniture. The main foyer had one long staircase that led to the second and third floor with a landing for each floor.
On the second floor stood Calvin in a maroon smoking jacket, walking down from the landing with the same open arm greeting he had in The Brass. "Richard! For a second I swore you were going to say no to even listening to my offer." He reached the foyer and Richard extended a hand, preferring not to let Calvin get that close to his person. While shaking hands the big man gave a nod of greeting to Nat and Clint, both of them returned with the same. "Come to my study and we will discuss business. Amber here will show you the way. I have some things I need to gather." He gave a look to the maid and gave another curt nod towards a large wooden door to the left.
Richard smiled politely and followed the young girl, trying hard to not pay attention to her garments and the way she swayed when she walked. Furniture indeed, he thought. His two friends were sniggering in the back, obviously making lewd remarks and gestures. He could read those two even without looking at them. Amber opened the door and bowed at the waist, a brief glance at her face revealing a blush. Those two always knew how to make a girl feel embarrassed in a good way. The three lowered their heads in thanks as they entered the dimly lit room. There were skins of various animals on the walls and books galore line the entirety of the study. A few globes and maps were scattered on the tables next to the lamps.
"There's no way that he has read even two of these books," Clint commented, all three knowing that Calvin was strong suited in weaseling and muscling his way around. He was never known for being the brightest. Still, there they were. All three took to the chairs, sitting comfortably and awaiting a master plan that would bring them a little more to fill their pockets. "Don't mind if I do, Calvin, "Clint said with a chuckle. He picked up a glass flute of wine that had various fruits floating in it and what appeared to be a crystal wine glass. He raised the flute to Nat and Richard, to which they both declined. He took a long draw of the wine and smacked his lips, half of it gone. "Good stuff, if you're a woman."
Three wine glasses later, Calvin walked into the room and shut the door. He had a few blueprints rolled up under his arm and a small walnut colored cigar case in his hands. This was one of the few times that they saw the man with a serious look on his face. "Alright, fellas," he said as he sat in the fourth chair, putting the various objects in his possession on the small circular table in the center of the four. He rolled out one map, rolled it up immediately and then took out a smaller one. He nodded his approval to the three and said, "What do you think?" They leaned in and saw it was a map of the Central Museum of Arts. Risky business, Richard thought.
"We are not thieves," he said with a nod of approval from his two cohorts," If there was something you needed shipped then we would be in business, but we will not rob anyone."
"Even if the money is right?" The cigar box was opened. In it was enough Central notes to last them at least two years in the air. "This could buy you and your two mates each a house. At least. I know you all prefer to live on the ship, so this could supply you with enough money to do what you wanted for a long, long time. Do you want to hear the job now?" He had their attention. Clint leaned back with the glass to his lips and his eyebrows raised. Nat, Richard could tell, was struggling with not bursting out in anger. He knew that Nat was against anything like this. They all knew what was coming. Richard looked to him and Nat gave a slight nod back. At least he was is willing to listen. Calvin saw the exchange and rolled right into his prepared speech. "The score is three paintings in the Central Museum of Arts. They are not too famous, but famous enough to be there. I want them in my personal collection I have hidden in this very mansion. I have the blueprints to the building and the security layouts. I know the guards and all their schedules. I will pay you one hundred thousand notes right now and another box like this one upon completion. What do you say?"
Richard leaned forward and put both elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him. Two hundred thousand? He pointed with his hands to the plans, "And do you have a plan or do you think you can just hand us all this and expect us to figure it out? We have never done anything like this and it can be extremely risky. I'm not trying to get me and my men put in the hold." He could see Calvin smile slightly, of course he had a plan. Calvin rolled up the main blueprint to the museum and showed them a the larger one from earlier. It was a map of the city's sewer ways. He looked up to Richard and his smile spread slowly from a grin to full on beaming.
"You might get a little dirty, but this manhole will lead to this entrance here." a pudgy finger with a gaudy steel ring pointed to what appeared to be a maintenance shaft leading into the building. "It will pop you up here, where the boilers for the electricity is. There is no one working there at night and my man in security will unlock the trap door for your entry. The museum has some tight security," Nat chuckled and shook his head. He leaned forward and put his hands on his face, coming down slowly and wiping his lips. Clint poured him a glass of wine and raised it slightly towards him, Nat accepting willingly.
"Continue, please, don't let me spoil the moment that you unveil your genius plan," he muttered into his glass, taking a healthy sip. Richard looked to Calvin, who was raising his eyebrows towards him. With a nod, Calvin looked back to the maps. He shuffled around more with blueprints and unrolled a map of the exterior and interior of the museum.
"There are security measures aplenty here, but most all of them are focused on not letting anyone into the building. Once inside, you are almost free to run around unhindered," Calvin smiled as he watched them raise their eyebrows at this revelation," As I have the guards in my pocket, who are the only security measure once inside the museum, it will be easy picking. They will open the maintenance hatch and then look the other way."
Calvin paused and motioned for a glass of wine from Clint. Clint passed him the flute and an empty glass, pouring himself a glass beforehand. "Stop drinking so much, Clint," said Richard, after seeing his gunner's cheeks turn slightly pink,"Calvin, I have some questions." He watched the heavy man pour his glass of wine, waiting for his full attention." Supposed we do get in, how are we to transport these paintings? We cannot certainly move around carefully with huge paintings in our hands. Are we to knock out or hurt these guards so as to not raise suspicion on their end? Lastly, how are we to get out of this museum and get you the paintings once we are done?"
"Easily!" Calvin exclaimed happily. He must have expected these questions, thought Richard. "Take the paintings out their frames and put them in these tubes." He opened his hand toward the corner of the study where three large pipes were resting against the corner. "You see, you roll up the paintings and put them in there. When you leave the sewer with the pipes no one will question on the street some men carrying what will appear to be normal. And no, you will not have to knock out anyone. The police will not know what to do if none of the guards are hurt. If anyone is hurt there will be questions towards them about your men's appearance. They will just wonder how anyone got in and out with three paintings. You take the paintings to your ship, I have a few guys that will pick up the pipes and bring them here. Don't worry, though," he chuckled," They will not know what is in the pipes, just that I am paying them to bring the pipes from your ship to my house."
Calvin leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his hands together. He was waiting for a response, Richard noticed. "Leave the room for a minute, Calvin. Let me discuss this with them," Richard said, looking at the plans and cigar box on the table in front of him. He didn't raise his gaze until Calvin let the room, waiting for the click of the door. "Let me speak," Richard said, already seeing Nat start to protest. Clint chuckled and put down his glass, putting a hand on his cheek to support his leaning head. Richard knew Clint would agree with him, Nat was the only one that needed convincing.
"Please, sir, tell me how you intend to make us thieves for a handful of notes."
"We need the money. That is more than a handful," Richard stated, nodding toward the cigar box. Nat, who looked as though he might jump out of his chair, leaned into the high backing of the chair hard as he crossed his arms. "Look, we need the money. You know this as well as I. We need to be able to support the ship. We are down to less than two hundred notes, and that won't even pay the docking fee we have accumulated this in port." He could see Nat's brow unfurrow a bit, he was making progress. "The plan looks pretty solid from my point of view. With this money we can leave Central," he gestured to the table as he said his last bit. "With this money we don't have to do anymore dirty jobs. I know you hate that as much as I do."
"Look," Richard leaned in towards Nat," If it bothers you so much, you can stay on the ship and look the other way." Nat shook his head and unfolded his arms, wiping his face slowly.
"Fine, let's do the job and be done with it," he said, raising an open hand palm down in front of Richard, "But we are going to pay the port fee as soon as possible and leave as soon as those paintings are off the Cactaur. What do you say to that, Captain?" Richard smiled and took Nat's hand for a hardy hand shake. They both looked to Clint and laughed, the man fast asleep in his own hand.