What he heard at the bar was enough to know it would be worth his while. It was a late night of drinking, and he spent more on the tab than he should’ve, but once everyone was multiple beers deep they were willing to share things they shouldn’t with former officers. There was this Vet, guy was involved in some real mess involving a kidnapping victim that they were still trying to get to the bottom of. They wouldn’t share much, and what they did let on at the bar was only what they had found so far, but it sounded like the guy was into some shady stuff. Even drunk, they were trying to keep some of his info private, but they let slip the name of his clinic. Back at home, Mike got the address of his home after spending some time with the yellow pages and the white pages.

It had been a long time since he’d done a residential burglary. Back in his high school days, his brothers and his friends would get up to that, but as he grew up he learned it wasn’t worth it just picking random houses. In his police days, he’d done some smash and grabs on commercial places, those had a guaranteed return and was easy to get the right BS in the police report to throw them off the trail. He hated to be doing this again, but money was tight and he wasn’t going to let an opportunity go to waste. He knew they were arresting the guy tonight, so it was guaranteed that he’d be out. Ideally, he’d like to rob in the middle of the night, but no telling how long the guy would be locked up for, so it was a dinner-time raid or nothing else. The house was in a nice neighborhood and that vet business seemed to be going well, Mike figured they’d definitely have some nice stuff he could fence. Of course, he was really hoping to find something unexpected, like cash, drugs; the stuff that might be there if this guy really was in bed with some shady figures.

Why did it take him so damn long to find his .44? It wasn’t in the safe with the rest of his guns. Did he need that one for what he was going to do tonight? No, any old gun would do, but he liked showing that he meant business, and ever since he saw Dirty Harry he knew that there was nothing you could hold in one hand that would get that message across better. He counted out as he loaded it full with bullets, 1,2,3,4,5, click and then gave it a good spin. Dang, he liked the way he looked holding the gun, seeing himself in the mirror. Then he reminded himself that wasn’t what he should be worrying about, he should focus on how well the balaclava fit. He didn’t have any of those fancy ones for skiing, so he used his “talent” for improvisation. All it took was a few knife holes in an old knit hat, and Mike had something that would obscure his face just fine.

It was always risky doing a crime with your own car, a lot of people liked to steal one to do some business. But Mike thought all of that was unnecessary. He found a side street and pulled out one of the oldest tricks in the book. Undo the screws and remove the license plates from his car. No plate, no number, and he could outrun them if they bothered to chase him over something that stupid. There was plenty of parking on the street for his car, so that’s where he went. He acted like a guy just walking the neighborhood, but when he had ducked behind a corner he put the balaclava on, scrunching and shoving it to get the eyeholes lined up. He also strapped his messenger bag on, hoping to put some good stuff in it and be out of there.

White picket fence around the backyard, of course they were that kind of family. He got closer and could see the paint fading, the owner must’ve been a softy if he wasn’t able to get his kids to do it. Mike got a running start, held out his hand, and prepared to jump it. He got a few inches away when he realized it wasn’t going to happen, Mikey had to remind himself he was no Dr. J when it came to jumping. He paced back and got running again this time, shoulder down and aimed right where the latch was. Bam, it burst right open. Mike wasn’t thinking about if they heard him, he was just thinking about how people that really needed fences always went with chain-link or metal. 

There was a feeling in his gut when he stared at the sliding glass door on the back porch. They had the blinds up, the suckers. Meant he couldn’t see in either, but he had a gun, and what did they have? Dining utensils? This’d be a piece of cake. He breathed in and gave it one kick with his heavy boots. The shards went all around and the screams reached out into the yard. Mike ran in with one hand shielding his face from the flying glass and the other holding his revolver out. They knew what was up from the moment he stepped in with the balaclava on his face and the gun in his hand, but he always figured they could use a little bit more terror. BANG! One round into the ceiling as a warning and then everything else ceased. 

He had the urge to swear when he realized he just barged into the middle of the dining room; them New-fangled house layouts keeping him guessing. He started talking before he could hesitate.

“Ey, alright, alright, no need to get quiet now, glad you noticed  me. I can see the old man ain’t here now, he fucked up real bad. Nows, me and my people, listen we ain’t got no problem with you, you hear some of them want to make the bloodbath a family affair, give ‘em all nice plots with the same death date in the cemetery, but we ain’t like that. We don’t think Youse a problem less Youse make a problem for us. I’m only here to collect some stuff to make it right. Help me out with that and you’ll be able to forget I was ever here, but get wise, and I might decide ta make myself more memorable”

Mike was waving his gun and two scared faces looked back at him, a teenage boy and a woman that was obviously the Vet’s wife. He’d run it through a dozen times in his head and never thought what to do if he ran into people. He wasn’t sure if they bought his whole speech, if they weren’t moving because they were in shock, or if they knew something he didn’t. Maybe it was time for something else, maybe ice ‘em now and hope they’d think it somebody else, but then he ended that thought. Getting money was what mattered, don’t get distracted. Remember you’re the guy with the gun, and go forward. No fancy thoughts. No big plans. Just hold your gun and go.

He saw a closet door sitting open. Without a word, he pointed towards the kid, and then the closet, and when the kid didn’t get the hint, he cocked the gun and said “In. Now!” 

It sounded like the kid was going to say something. Mike just shouted wordlessly and he stopped. Mike saw him huddled in the dark. There was a shelving unit full of shoes and old toolboxes; that’s all he saw in there. He shut the door and shoved a chair underneath the knob. It was jammed shut. He faked like he was walking off, and fired another round. It made a deafening blast and a hole in the wall next to the closet. 

The kid was alive, he could hear the breathing. In the silence, Mike said

 “I see you leave that and ya dead, understand?”

Then he walked away and considered that situation handled. 

“Now, give me the good shit and I can get outta here. Where’s it at?”

The missus was still stammering. She stuttered, not speaking but she could point. That was all the communication he needed.  
He went upstairs. The stairs creaked under his heavy footsteps. He wouldn’t let her run off, and she led him to the right spot. In the bedroom he noticed that  at least one of them actually gave a shit about the décor. There were shades of orange he had only seen on hotels and TV shows in there. Too bad he couldn’t sell that. He said 

“Okay, whatcha got?”

“I…I have some jewelry. And a nice fur coat. I don’t wear it much, but my husband wanted to surprise me. It’s mink.” It was fox. Mike wouldn’t know. 

“Anything else? Got cash, heirlooms, collectibles? He ever keep any ‘em vet drugs in the house? C’mon, quicker you answer, quicker I’ll be out of here.” 

“No, nothing like that. My husband like guns, I don’t know them but I think some of them are nice ones. Maybe you could sell them.”

“Alright, so where’s the guns, and where’s the rest? Point, and I’ll check”

Place was big. Full bath, walk-in closet, California King bed in the center and still plenty of floorspace. Fuckin’ respectable types, they always spent money on the shit you couldn’t just dump off at a pawn shop.

“The…the guns are in that safe.” She pointed to a large green gun safe sitting near the door to the bathroom. “The fur coat and the jewelry, we keep that in the closet.”

He gestured with the gun, and she led him to the closet. When she opened the door, he grabbed her wrist. Then he shoved her aside to make sure he got the first look. Damn big closet, even had a little window. Too small to climb out of, though. Then he shoved her past the threshold and waited in the doorway.

She was hurrying, tossing clothes and boxes of mementos aside. Every time she pulled out something, he had his hand outstretched to grab it before she could squirrel it away. He got a pearl necklace, some earrings, bracelets and rings that were heavy enough he knew there was some gold in them. A bunch of silver too. All of that he stuffed in his bag, one hand still holding the gun. The pace got slower, but she did hand him some nice watches, two ladies ones, and some fancy men’s one by Omega. Damn, it was one of those new quartz ones. How does a rock tell time anyway? Figures the Swiss would find a way.  

“Hey, I think your friends are here. I see them out the window. they’re not doing the best job at hiding.”

“Very funny. I ain’t got no friends with me tonight.”

“I’m…I’m not lying, who are they? You can see them right there!”

He grabbed her in a headlock and shoved her off and to the side. He kept a solid grip on her just in  case she tried to run away. Maybe it was rough, maybe he’d hurt her throat, didn’t matter to him now. Then he saw it outside. Even with a peek, he could tell what shattered glass on the lawn looked like. By the look of it, it was the windows leading to the basement. Then he saw the back of the legs of someone trying to crawl in. He loosened his grip on her and walked back to the entrance of the closet. He said nothing, and his eyes never left her the whole time. She could see the look of disquiet on his face through the balaclava.