All That Glitters - Chapter One

I've tackled a couple of short stories recently, and now I'm trying my hand at something a bit longer.  Every day this week I will drop one chapter of a five-chapter short story I have written.  It is a globetrotting crime caper in which a young dreamer finds it difficult to distinguish fantasy from reality.  Here is the first part of "All That Glitters."

CHAPTER ONE

Th-thump.  Th-thump.  Th-thump.  

Jan’s heartbeat surged through his body, filling his neck and head with thick, pounding pulses as his taut muscles propelled him through the city streets.  The neon lights of the Geneva waterfront were a psychedelic blur.  The pedestrians scrambling to get out of his way barely registered on his consciousness.  He could focus on one thing, and one thing only:  the white Renault van that was waiting on the other side of the river, lights dimmed and engine purring in readiness.  

He was at the pinnacle of his profession as a pennyweighter, and he had promised himself this payout would be the last.  Not just himself.  He had sworn an oath to Karolina.  Captivating Karolina, his partner in pilferage who, while helping him amass a small fortune in purloined playthings of privilege, had stolen his heart.  She and the crew – Max, Harald and Samantha – were in the idling vehicle awaiting his imminent arrival.

The muffled alarm emanating from the saferoom of the Hotel des Bergues was suddenly overwhelmed by the sound of sirens coming from both sides of the bridge.  The waters of the Rhône flowed into Lac Leman as Jan crossed the midway point, reaching the Île Rousseau.  With every stride he got closer to the van, to safety, to unlimited wealth … to Karolina.  

Jan was about fifty feet from the van when he realized something wasn’t right.  There was blood on the windshield.  As he approached at a steady clip he saw Karolina exit the vehicle and slowly raise her hands in front of her.  They were cradling a SIG Sauer P226 and it was pointed right at him.  Attempting to stop on a dime, Jan’s left knee buckled, and he fell awkwardly onto the cement sidewalk.  Bracing himself for the fall, his hands released their vicelike grip on the velvet sachet embracing the Pink Star diamond he had been clenching.  He looked on helplessly as the $70 million rock tumbled over the banks of the small island, got caught in the currents of the Rhône and were swept away into Lac Leman.  

The dissonant scratching of footwear upon gravel stole his attention.  He gazed up to see the moon’s silhouette, which was quickly blocked by the blue eyes and blond hair of his erstwhile lover – who was in turn partially obscured by the gleaming piece of metal that was suddenly pointed in his face.  He heard a deafening noise, and all was silent.

To be continued ...