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    Young Sage
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Chicago Wildlife - 5. And I'm Also A Professional Actor

I strut into the Field Museum of Natural History, metal briefcase in one hand and fedora on my head. I’m dressed in my Sunday best and I’ll admit it, I’m feeling a little bit naked without all the makeup on and sporting my real hair for all to see. I do my best not to let my eyes wander all over the place as I make my way up to the receptionist’s desk. A beautiful, long-haired brunette sat there, typing some itinerary on her computer. She looks up to greet me.

“Welcome to the Field Museum. May I assist you?”

I see that her nameplate says Brittany.

“Well good morning to you, Brittany,” I say in my best Cajun accent. “I’m Casey Klozed, the inspector from the United States Jewelry Council? I believe we’ve spoke on the phone before.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Klozed. I’ll inform Mr. Aguet of your arrival.”

She dials a number on her phone and soon the director of Protection Services comes out to greet me. We shake hands and I reintroduce myself to him, being mindful not to seem like I’m in a hurry. We talk back and forth jovially as we walk back to where the diamond was being held.

“I must admit,” I say, “I’m surprised the diamond is even still here, what with that rascal phantom thief trying to steal it last night.”

“So word about that reached even you?” he inquires.

“Mr. Aguet, it is my job to know the status of all the diamonds I’m put in charge of overseeing. I must say, I am impressed your guards managed to keep him away from the diamond. I heard this little thief of yours has super powers, and I am under the impression that your guard staff do not.”

It is a well known fact that men, just like women, love to be complimented, and telling him that I believe his security force fought off a supervillain all by themselves will no doubt cause him to trust me a little more than a minute ago.

“Well, we are a very prestigious cultural museum that houses many rare and valuable artifacts. We take great pride in our security,” he says.

We come to the room the diamond is in, a different, sealed room than yesterday’s. A middle-aged woman, looking a little rough around the edges and all serious, but otherwise fair looking, stands in front of it.

“This is Diane,” Mr. Aguet says. “She’ll be your guard and supervisor during your stay. Enjoy your visit here, Mr. Klozed.”

“Thank you very much,” I reply.

He walks off. I turn to Diane.

“Charmed to make your acquaintance,” I say, extending a hand for a handshake. “The name’s Casey Klozed.”

She reciprocates the handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Klozed-”

“Oh, uh, please just call me Casey. I let the big wigs call me Mr. Klozed because they’re signing my paychecks, but I much prefer that casual, friendly tone of a first name basis. Makes me seem like a human being and not a cog in the machine.”

Women love a vulnerable man, and especially not stoic, stick in the mud types.

“Sure, Casey,” she says.

More charm will be required.

“I understand security is crucial around here, so let me explain the procedure I will be doing today. To make sure that the diamond is legitimate, I’ll need complete darkness once I’m in the room. Any glare from the overhead lights might cause a clue as to the diamond’s fakeness to be concealed, which I might overlook during my appraisal. All the tools I’ll need are in this briefcase, including micro-flashlights, so that I can control any light glare that might arise.”

I flip the briefcase on its side on one arm and snap it open.

“Inside, you’ll find a manufactured fake diamond. I’ll be using this fake diamond as a reference point.”

I make sure she sees the fake diamond. To anyone untrained, it looks like a diamond should, and no one would be able to tell that it’s a fake. I close the briefcase before she can memorize the details.

“Once I ascertain that the Nano Wrimo Diamond housed here is the real deal, I’ll knock on the door, and you can let me out. If you wish, you may even inspect BOTH diamonds before escorting me out. Did you follow all of that, Diane?”

“Yes, Casey. How long do you anticipate the procedure to take?”

“Oh, considering how precious this diamond is, I’ll be doing a second and third check on it, covering all aspects and dimensions of the diamond, so I expect to take at least 30 minutes.”

“Okay. Whenever you are ready.”

A woman of few words. I know some men who would like that.

She enters a passcode on a lock pad and opens the door. I step through.

“Please kill the lights in exactly five minutes,” I say.

“Okay. Knock when you’re done. If you require any further assistance, please contact me immediately. The door is not soundproof, so I’ll still be able to hear you.”

“Thank you very much, Diane. Your assistance is greatly appreciated.”

The door closes and I have five minutes to act like I’m getting out my appraisal tools, testing and calibrating them, and remove the diamond and place it on a more secure brace of sorts. Five minutes go by and the lights go out.

I simply remove the diamond and switch it with the fake. Job done.

It’s easy for me to make the switch, given that I put in night vision contact lenses that morning before going to “work.” I then turn on one of the flashlights and begin appraising the fake diamond. I have no doubt that the security camera in the room can still see me working, even with as little light as the flashlight gives, so I only had that small moment between the lights going off and me turning a flashlight on to make the switch.

I take the time during my “appraisal” to let my mind wander. This whole plan hinges on the entire museum not knowing how diamond appraisal works, and just trusting a guy to come in and look at a rock long enough to say “Yep, that’s a rock all right.” The fake ID card I made beforehand didn’t even come into play. I almost feel cheated. I sure hope the millions of dollars this diamond will fetch me on the black market will make me feel a little better.

After precisely half an hour of pretending like I’m judging this worthless rock’s sky high value, I place the fake diamond back on the pedestal, pack up my tools, and walk over to the door and knock.

“All finished, Casey?” Diane asks.

“Yes, I’m pleased to say that this museum does indeed have the real Nano Wrimo Diamond in their possession. Thank you for letting the USJC satisfy their concern as to whether the diamond had been replaced with a fake during transport or not. With how easy it is to make carbon copies these days and supervillains running around, you can never be too sure.”

“You’re welcome, Casey.”

“Would you like to see the diamond in my briefcase?”
“I would, in fact.”

I open up the briefcase and show her the real Nano Wrimo Diamond, along with the tools that were still warm from my having used them just minutes ago.

“As you can see, a blemish here, an imperfection there, a slight asymmetry to the whole piece…”

I am banking on the idea that none of them have ever seriously studied how to identify a rare and valuable diamond before.

I close up the briefcase.

“And now you got the rare privilege of seeing a fake diamond up close and personal with your eyes, Diane. Shall we head upstairs?

“Of course, Casey. Mr. Ageut will escort you out the rest of the way.”

We walk back the way we came. Pretty soon, it is the man in charge himself who greets me.

“I trust I’m still in possession of the Nano Wrimo Diamond?”

“Don’t worry yourself over it anymore. I double and triple checked my list. The diamond is indeed real. We at the USJC issue an apology to the Field Museum for confronting to your organization our fear that the diamond might have been stolen at some point during transport. It seems nothing of the sort has been made.”

“Well,” Mr. Aguet, “we appreciate your concern.”

I am already making my way to the front doors to freedom.

“You know how to write your checks, I presume. Now if you’ll excuse me, I always wanted to see the dolphin show at the Aquarium before the crowd gets there.”

And with that, I left the building with a priceless artifact in a suitcase using mostly my true body, no powers, and a bunch of prep work done in the past several weeks …including last night.

Too bad Foxy will never put two and two together. He’s only the city’s second smartest superhero around, and in this city, that meant that he could Velcro his shoes together without assistance. The whole plan was a success. I intentionally go out at night, dressed in my Disappearance costume, get his attention, tussle with him (though I wanted to do that at the museum and not on some rooftops several miles away), “fail” in getting the diamond, and then let him think that that was my only primary plan for that diamond (when in fact, IT was the distraction). Then have the audacity to just stroll in the next day, in my public persona, and just talk my way into being handed the diamond in such a way that they won’t notice the fake for what it is for months on end. Foxy wouldn’t think I’d strike so soon, in the daytime with a lot less theatrics. I want to keep him thinking like that. Makes my job easier. Though I will say, I love both the acquisition of new gems AND the fights on rooftops. And I love doing it with Foxy.

I hail a cab (don’t want anyone else asking about this briefcase) and go back home. Looks like Alaskan cod is back on the menu, Lokitty!

That concludes Disappearance's story! Thank you very much for reading. If I feel that the next story is appropriate enough for GA, I'll post that soon.
Copyright © 2019 Young Sage; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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