Joshua Maurer is a 24 year old from Michigan and is currently enrolled in Full Sail University's creative writing for entertainment program. He has goals of becoming an author to give readers more of the fictional worlds that helped him when he needed an escape.
The glass from a broken museum display case crunches under the feet of Ray, the burly African American guard as he makes his way to the source of the commotion. As he moves toward the area the alarms went off, he heard a female voice echo in a thick Russian accent, “make sure you grab the Rembrandt, it’s the one painting we have to get.” The newly employed guard ducks down behind the cover of wooden crates and reaches towards the matte black M&P 9mm at his side. “Sure Anastazia,” a second masculine voice responds to Anastazia. The guards badge collides with a ray of light and glints off of his shiny nametag as his had wraps around the grip of his gun. Ray steadily but slowly stands up and aims his gun over the top of the crates he had been using as cover. Slowly he readies his gun to fire but with this movement comes a soft but clearly audible click. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Arnold go and see what that noise was,” Anastazia says to her accomplice. “Sure thing, boss,” he responds with evident venom in his voice. Ray starts to tremble and sweat coats his brow.
The man named Arnold walks toward the crates, but Ray is ready. With his weapon at the ready he squeezes the trigger the second the big Caucasian man named Arnold walks around the corner and hits him right between the eyes. Hurriedly, Ray makes his way towards new cover. Settling on a marble statue that resembles the famous ‘Thinker’, he wipes his forehead to prevent the sweat from entering his eyes. The woman names Anastazia runs around the corner and with a shriek and a trembling hand, reaches down to close the eyes of her lost comrade. “Where are you, you son of a bitch?” She screams questioningly. On her back is a cloth covered square with only the bottom right hand corner peeking out. On it was the name Degas. Ray puts his hand on his radio and makes sure the volume is muted as not to make a sound.
Taking his shoes off slowly, Ray effectively suppressing his footsteps. Moving silently around the edge of the status he steadies his shaking hand by using the corner of the massive statue as an armrest. Anastazia slowly but surely lifts herself off the ground and starts looking around her in a panicked state. “Show yourself!” She screams. With the sights of his gun finally hovering over the chest of the beautiful figure of Anastazia, Ray takes a deep breath and fires his gun, again hitting the target.
Laughing, Ray walks up to the woman and lowers himself onto the ground beside her on one knee. Barely audible he whispers into her ear, “I was going to wait a little longer to case the place, but now that you’ve rushed my schedule, I’ll be taking that.” Ray slips the Degas from her back and places it on his own and turns away. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll make sure not to forget the Rembrandt.”