Silverhawk, Superthief

By David and Linda Broughton

Silverhawk as he's known to in the trade, is a high end thief. Already wealthy from his last caper in Australia, (The thief you loved in Royal Pane Down Under) he's living in in island paradise, but that soon wears thin. He wants to get back in the game, to hone his impressive skills to a razor's edge. What to steal is the question, he's learned that stealing from crooks is safe from the law, but if they find out who he is, death will certainly follow.

Hawk stumbles upon a way to steal not from one crook, but many all at one time. That goes well, but he still has one problem, he's always alone, even when he isn't, he can't let anyone know who he really is. Will true love ever find him, can he trust that much? Can he remember his real name among the hundreds he's used? Find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David and Linda Broughton
• Release date: Aug 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465821942

David and Linda Broughton

The love of my life, Linda, is deceased. There will be a few more books by us, since more are written, they are not edited yet. In her honor I will try to get them edited and out to the public, but it's not easy for me. I have a new writing partner now, as well as a partner in life. No it will never be the same, nor should it. To those that review my books. I would greatly appreciate it if you actually READ the entire book before you write the review. Skimming it and posting a review just minutes after you buy it doesn't give a full understanding of the work. One person did this with "Grumpy Old Spy" and totally missed the entire story, and got what they did catch all wrong. I don't appreciate that. If you're not going to do an honest assessment after reading the entire book, don't bother to review it at all. In fact, if that person would contact me, I'll give them their money back for the book, providing they pull the cheap shot review.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Through barely opened eyes, Silverhawk watches the dark skinned beauty he spent the night with. She's quite a lovely sight, still naked, as she searches his clothes for cash. He wants to laugh, but stifles it, he lets her think he's still asleep, and she's getting away with something. Many of the dark lovelies in this island paradise won't take cash up front like a regular whore, but will steal it after the deed is done. He's got the amount he thought she'd be worth in his pockets, plus a little extra. She finds it then puts on her bikini. She's so sexy doing it he'd about like to have another go with her now. She tucks the cash she thinks she's stealing in her bikini bottom.

Apparently, being a thief isn't a big deal to these ladies, but being thought a common whore is. Silverhawk kind of understands, after all, he's a thief himself, but not a common garden-variety thief. He's a high-end, highly skilled thief. Since no one he has ever worked for has seen what he really looks like, he feels confident that nobody is after him now.

Silverhawk's been hanging out in this island paradise for a few months now, making sure there isn't any heat from his last job that turned out to be half theft, half con. He scammed a couple of governments on the last gig, so he decided to lay low for a while. He's getting bored with this island, though the ladies here are lovely and willing... for a price. He's done all there is to do, seen all there is to see here. Hawk is a multi-millionaire now. His only extravagances are the rent of a nice house, and spending a few dollars on the local ladies. He has spent little of his stash, probably less than he's made in interest, prices are reasonable for food, drink and housing here. With the three million he got off his last job, plus what he had already put away, he has over five million (US) in a Caymans bank.

Hawk returned the document he stole to it's rightful owners after the last job, after he got paid millions by both the person that had him steal it along with the Australian and English governments. Apparently the governments are fine with it. A million to them is nothing. The Ainsworth fellow that wanted it in the first place is dead. None of them knows what he looks like because he is also a master of disguise.

Perhaps I should go steal something, if only to keep my skills sharp. I'd promised myself that I wouldn't steal for others anymore -- I'll only steal what I want to steal. That's the big question, what to steal? It has to be something extremely valuable. It has to be something so difficult to steal that nobody else would try. It also has to be something I can steal without involving others in the theft, that's the surest way to get caught. I nearly got caught back home in England once by involving someone else in my plan.

The crown jewels? No, that would bring down way too much heat. I'm already hot in merry old England anyway. The Queen is a friend of that Ash Pane broad. If she gets on your trail, death follows. Stealing that kind of thing is way too risky, since the only ways to make a buck off them is to ransom them back, or destroy the originals by removing the stones and resetting them. I couldn't do that, that's sacrilege. Maybe I could steal the Mona Lisa? Technically, it doesn't belong to the French government, but they would do everything they could to get it back. They aren't all that much of a worry, their idea of law enforcement is quite ineffective. There would be no way to make a dime off it once I stole it, if I did get it. Ransoming it back is the only way to do that, that's always too risky. Not that I need money, however not making any money off it goes against my grain. Perhaps there's something else. I'll have to check into it.

For now, Hawk brushes his silvery blond main of hair, considering yet another night at the bars with the pretty local ladies. I'll check online later, maybe I can get an idea about a worthy target then.

Chapter 2

Another night in the island paradise with a couple of lovely local girls did little to ease Hawk's boredom. He's thinking things over. The one thing I learned from my last score, is that if you steal from real scumbags, only the scumbags care. They don't dare go to the law. There are so many rich scumbags in the world, how do I choose a target? Scumbag and rich seem to be almost synonymous, most of the time. No, not mildly rich like me, the really rich seem to either be scumbags or the money was handed down from scumbags that preyed on innocent, poor people. I never steal from poor people, what's the point in that? I'd rather steal big items or huge amounts of cash all at once, not rob the poor of every pence they manage to make, hell, I'm no government or huge corporation, that's their bailiwick. Some online perusing is called for.

Hawk has a top of the line Apple IMac notebook computer with wireless cards for various wireless services. Right now, he's using the one for the service the hotel a little ways up the beach provides. He's stealing the service, a little something to make him giggle. Most criminals, of whatever ilk, stash the bulk of their cash in Cayman Islands banks like I do. That's a no go. If I could do it, the heat it would generate would be unbearable. Besides, what would I do with the loot if I couldn't use Cayman's banks? I don't have the computer skills required anyway.

After many tries with many different search words, Hawk hits on what he thinks is a gold mine … of sorts. Necessity being the mother of invention, something very interesting has sprung up around the world. There are now banks of a sort, in many major cities around the world. They aren't banks in the true sense. They don't make loans, have government insurance, things like that. These are privately owned, they don't take deposits of cash. Their primary source of income is from safety deposit boxes. They charge very high fees for the extra-secure boxes. Since they are privately owned and don't operate as actual banks, they don't have to fool with all the banking laws. In a way, they are not much different in use than a U-store-it place, except for the high fees and high security.

Apparently, some of the wealthy scumbags like to keep some things close at hand, jewels, art, gold, cash, whatever it may be. The high fees charged, fifty thousand a year in some cases, tells me nobody is using these places to store their wedding albums.

One such company of the four or five international concerns, has such depositories in major cities all over the world. London, Rome, Paris, Madrid, New York City, and Los Angeles are the major ones. They have smaller ones in some other cities too. Finding out who stores what in them might be a real chore. They don't keep records of when the boxes are visited, or by who. The firms themselves have no idea what exactly is stored in the boxes. Some use anonymous electronic key cards, plus codes set by the purchaser. Some use biometric fingerprint scanners. Those scanners are rather easily defeated, I know. The retinal scanners are a lot more difficult, if I don't want anyone knowing I've been there ... if I don't care, then there are easy ways. They must keep a list of clients for billing purposes. They're probably stored on in-house computers or servers that don't have outside connections to the internet, so they can't be hacked from the outside.

This seems to be the kind of challenge Hawk is looking for. If any stolen antiquities are found, he can simply return them to their rightful owners, anonymously. Trying to sell those would bring too much heat. Cash, gold, or negotiable securities he'll keep for himself. Maybe there'll be some other interesting items. Hawk mutters aloud to himself, Whoa, ole boy, you haven't figured out which one to hit yet, or how, don't be counting your loot before you have it.

Hawk thinks a while. Two of the banks seem like prime targets to me. New York City or Los Angeles. The high percentage of real scumbags means they'll probably have the biggest and best items. I can also blend in there easier than Madrid or Rome. I won't set foot in the UK, I'm still wanted there for past crimes, though they have no real idea who I am there's no sense in taking unnecessary chances.

With all my various passports and ID, I can travel easily enough. My ability with disguise makes me able to look the part anywhere. The language problem pretty much limits me to English speaking countries, unless I want to play the role of tourist. Tourists tend to stand out to the locals, that's never a good thing.

An anonymous city like New York or LA is best for my needs. Which one though? Perhaps I should visit both places to get the lay of the land before deciding? This late in October, maybe I should check out Los Angeles. I can wait until summer comes again to try for New York City, if at all. It might take months to set up. There's no way I want to be in NYC in the winter. That decided, Hawk starts packing everything up, which isn't a lot, he travels light. Most of his things are in storage. He makes a phone call, they'll be shipped to Los Angeles for him, the fee is reasonable, considering the distance involved.

Chapter 3

The pot bellied, short, older man in a print shirt, shorts and sandals with socks steps off the plane. The mature man has the appearance of a Hawaiian vacationer returning to the mainland. He doesn't bother with collecting luggage, he has only a small carry-on bag. He takes a taxi to a fine downtown hotel. His luggage is waiting for him there, shipped ahead, some from the small island paradise he was at, the rest was sent from the storage place.

At the hotel, a bellman retrieves his luggage from a storage room, as the older man checks in. The bellman shows him to his executive suite. It's not the finest in this fine hotel, but nice enough. It should be plenty comfortable for a few day's stay. The pot bellied man tips the bellman a twenty, not much in a fine hotel like this, but it's not the cheapskate buck or two either. He doesn't want to be noticed too much, he rarely does.

As soon as the bellman has left, this man locks the door with the positive hasp lock that the hotel provides. Brute force might open the door, nothing else will. In the pleasant master bedroom, the man starts to disrobe. Off come the clothes, the fat suit, the make up with the artificial nose, and the wig.

Silverhawk steps into the bathroom to remove the traces of make up on his face. He brushes out his silver blond mane of hair while he's at it. Hawk always travels in disguise. He uses what ever one goes with the passport and ID he chooses to use.

A quick shower helps to remove the last vestiges of the make up, plus a little of the jet lag. After that, Hawk begins a review of his notes on the four depositories of a decent size in the Los Angeles area. They're computer printed on flash paper. If need be, it burns up quickly and completely with the touch of a flame or other heat source. Magicians use it all the time, so do a lot of bookies, for the same reasons Hawk does. It looks much like ordinary copy paper, but is made from different materials, treated with chemicals. It flashes brightly as it burns quickly, hence the name.

Of the four secure depositories, only one has really top notch security. This one is the most expensive of the four to store things at. The fact that it relies very heavily on electronic security rather than the old tried and true of human guards and the like makes it most interesting to Hawk. Electronics can always be defeated. If a man can invent it, another man can find a way around it.

Hawk does not harm anyone physically. His small stature makes that improbable at best. He won't use a gun, unless maybe it's a stun gun or dart gun. Killing is not in him, he won't do it to keep himself out of prison, though anyone can and will do things they don't care to do if threatened with death or bodily injury, he works hard not to let that happen.

Finding out what security a place has might be difficult. They don't exactly make that public knowledge. Somebody has to know, somebody had to install it. The weak link is usually the people that actually do the work. They aren't paid all that well, the companies that employ them usually make the bulk of the money. A nice bit of cash to one or two of the low level employees will usually get all the information required.

None of these places have been around long, it's a relatively new idea, at this level. They've discovered how to get around all the banking laws only recently. That means that if I can figure out what company did the installations, the employees that did the work are probably still around.

Hawk puts the information aside for now, he's tired. It's mostly jet lag. Before he attempts any surveillance or anything of the sort, he'll need his brain to be working at it's fullest capacity. Hawk crawls into bed, turns out the lamp, then drifts off to sleep.

Chapter 4

Hawk spent two days in his room, eating room service meals, relaxing, getting his head back in the game. The long layoffs tend to make him a bit slower than when he stays busy all the time.

Today, his third day in the city, he'll spend looking for different quarters. Possibly two places, a quiet place where he can come and go unnoticed, plus maybe a backup safe house, in case the guano hits the fan. He can always get another hotel or motel, his various ID and credit cards make that possible. He really wants a bungalow, or a house in a quiet neighborhood, something where he can work with his tools, come and go in various disguises, and never be noticed.

A visit to a realtor that deals in rentals will probably be the easiest way to deal with it. I'll probably get something a ways out of town, in one of the many suburbs, or farther out might be good. I'll also need a set of wheels that will go unnoticed too. I can always rent a car, but that leads to more hassles than I want. A small car lot somewhere in this city will have what I want ... an older, nondescript van of some sort ... maybe one that can be made to look like a service van of the company that does the installations and repairs of the security systems. I'll take it someplace to have the running gear renewed to make sure it's a good getaway vehicle if that should be required.

Hawk's never been caught because he's cautious to a fault. Never again will he bring in somebody else on his capers, that's how the heat got on to him in England. The line never say never pops into his head unbidden. Had the man that nearly got him busted in England known what he really looked like, or known his real name that is now only a distant memory, Hawk would likely be in prison now.

Hawk peruses the yellow pages. There certainly are a lot of realty companies. One big ad stresses that they handle rental properties throughout the southern California area. Hawk calls them to make a two in the afternoon appointment with a rental agent. It's early yet, that should give him time to find a vehicle. If not, he'll go ahead and rent one for the time being.

Hawk dresses down, in jeans, cowboy boots with lifts in them, a western shirt with a brown wig topped by a well used cowboy hat. He needs no tan makeup now, he's well tanned from being in the islands. He'll use his American lingo, lace it with a few drawls and cowboy sayings, that should create the persona he wants. Anyone he deals with might think he's from Texas, Wyoming, Colorado, or maybe Arizona.

Hawk uses a cab to get him into an area full of car-dealers of a small to medium size. He's not interested in buying new or nearly new, so he's staying away from the big brand-name dealers. He walks from one lot to the next, perusing the stock. I'm a lookin' fer an old heap ta get me 'round fer a while, is what he tells any salesman that bothers to talk to him.

On the fifth lot he checks, he discovers a gold mine of the kind of vehicles he needs. On the back of the lot, they have service trucks that were obviously once in service to the phone company. One has a topper on the back, with the toolbox sides on it. This will be perfect for one of his needs.

This place also happens to have a car that will match his other need, a decent looking but forgettable car. In this case, it's a Ford Crown Victoria. It was probably once an unmarked police car, or a city or county vehicle of some sort.

Hawk knows neither vehicle should be high priced. The dealer probably got them for next to nothing, or got paid to take them. The dealer might try to hold him up on them. Hawk can play hardball with the best of them when the situation calls for it. Paying too much while in this disguise wouldn't do at all.

Hawk ambles inside the small steel and glass office to ask about them. The salesman, probably the owner too, sizes him up at a glance. Hawk uses his cowboy voice, I'd like to make me a deal on a couple of yer old heaps, iffin ya don't try to rob a fella.

Which ones did you have in mind? Hawk figures the guy watched him look, and knows exactly which ones he has in mind.

That there dark blue Crown Vicky, the ex-cop car, and that old telephone company truck with the topper on it.

Those are good vehicles, though they aren't much to look at. The cops and the phone company take good care of their stuff.

I 'spose so, but a feller never rightly knows, does he.

No, you don't. You look em over, maybe try them out. Then you pay your money and take your chances.

How much y'all want fer the both of them?

As much as I can get, of course.

That don't give me no idee if I'm barkin' up the wrong tree or not.

How bout you make me an offer, we start from there?

Oh, so I might start higher than you think you can get huh?

Okay, I see you're on to me. Give me two grand each, they're yours.

No way, that's way too much when you and I both know you got next to nothin' in them. I'll give you a grand for both.

Nope, nothing doing. I'll go a grand each, plus tax.

Two grand, out the door, you got a deal.

Oh, all right, it's been slow lately I can use the cash. How do you figure to get them both out of here?

I'll take the truck now, then come back for the other one later today.

Okay, got a driver's license? I can fill out the paperwork off that.

Sure do, a brand new California one. The salesman makes out the papers off the kind-of-phony license. It's real in a way, it will check out, though the address on it is as fake as the name.

When the paperwork is done, the salesman looks him in the eye, Okay, Mr. Benson. I'll put some paper plates on them for now. You know you'll have to get liability insurance on them to be legal, but that's your look out.

I got that all worked out, I'll be gettin' that stuff soon as I leave here. Hawk pays cash, then gets the keys and paperwork to the vehicles. The truck starts right up. So he can be sure, he drives it directly to a repair shop. Some cash up front moves him to the head of the line, they take it in right away to give it a thorough going over. He's not going to have it rebuilt unless it really needs it, but he will make sure it's as sound as it can be otherwise.

He cabs back over to the car lot to get the Crown Vic, it runs well too. He stops at a cheap off-brand insurance place to get the minimum insurance on both vehicles. He gets it in the Benson ID, so that it will match the registration. A stop at the county registration office gets both of them registered in the same name. He puts the plates right on the Vic, he'll wait to do the truck until he gets it back.

After a stop for a late lunch, he uses a map to find his way to the realtor's office. The realtor is a very pretty lady named Joanna Engelhard. She's such a looker that Hawk imagines she makes a lot of Engles hard. Of course, in this area, pretty women seem to be everywhere.

Hawk pretends to make a big deal out of wanting something affordable, maybe out of town to get the rent down. In his current guise, he doesn't look wealthy, so the lady doesn't seem put off by this. If you don't mind being a ways out, I have a couple of places that might suit you.

I don't mind, I ain't so used to the big city yet anyways.

Where you from?

Well, missy, Ah was born in Texas, but Ah been all 'round the country, mostly in the western parts. Daddy were a construction foreman, we traveled round when Ah was a kid, Ah guess that's why Ah ain't never hung my hat one place fer very long.

How long of a rental are you looking for, if it's only for a few months, I can do better for you.

Ah don't rightly know. Ah ain't never stayed no place much more'n six months. Less in some places.

I might have an excellent deal for you. How would you like a nice private place to live, up in the Hollywood Hills area.

Ain't that area a might 'spensive? Ah don't rightly think I can 'ford that.

That's the neat part, they'll pay you to stay there. The owners are going on a trip abroad, they'll be gone for six months. They'll pay you to stay there to see that nothing gets messed up.

I don't know bout that, I ain't no hand with doin' landscapin' and all that.

They have a service for that. All you have to do is stay in the guest house, keep an eye on things, call me or them if anything goes wrong. The main house itself will be locked up, but you'll be given keys to check on things.

Lets go see these people, they might not cotton to a down home fella like me. Hawk knows that his ID for this persona will come back clean, and goes far enough back to look legit.

Okay, lets do that. They ride out to the Hollywood hills in Joanna's company car, a Lincoln Town Car. Joanna introduces him to the owners of a very fancy place. Contrary to what he expected, the man is a real Texan. The accent isn't thick now and he wears fancy duds that would make a real cowboy cringe. The man, Harry Wainright explains that his missus laid down the law, it's the fancy cowboy duds or none at all. His missus is the fancy Barbie doll Hollywood type. She's the trophy wife that doesn't realize she's the trophy, not him.

Hawk and Wainright get on well, this fella is a good sort, that happened to strike it rich in the oil fields of Texas and other places. The missus takes a likin' to the man Hawk is supposed to be too. They set him up with a set of keys, the alarm codes, the numbers of all the service people to call for anything, and pay him ten grand cash in advance on the spot, with a promise of another ten grand every month they're gone. There will also be a bonus of twenty grand more if everything is ship-shape when they return.

His only real duties will be to check the place now and again for leaks, or anything of that nature, and keep an eye on the grounds crew that comes twice a week to maintain the perfectly manicured grounds. Hawk is ecstatic about this deal for real. How could he beat it?

The couple will be departing the next day, he's expected to be moved in to the guest house, a nice sized home if located anywhere else, by noon tomorrow. He's allowed use of the pool, tennis courts, or any of the other facilities in the house or out.

Amazed at his luck, Hawk rides back to the realtor's office saying very little. She tells him for good measure she'll need to run his ID and credit rating. He's not worried about that. Back at the office, Joanna takes care of the details, then Hawk leaves.

What a deal, Hawk still can't believe it. He'll be able to take his time now. Having such a fancy place to call home might work out well in other ways. He's also got use of the fancy cars at the new place, that saves the hassles of renting something for the next part of his plans. If he can think of a way to do them all, he might hit all four places. That won't be easy to pull off. Still, the idea of such a grand caper holds much appeal. Nobody will ever know how much he gets out of it, since the depositors won't be talking.

Hawk drives back to his hotel. He enjoys a nice room service meal. That's the one thing he will miss, the cook and other help that normally works at the Wainright place are on vacation too. The lucky cook , a maid, and a valet are traveling with the Wainwrights. The rest are on paid vacations. This guy certainly doesn't mistreat his help. Hawk figures the missus could be hell on wheels, but the old Texan knows how to rein her in when he needs to.

After his meal, Hawk thinks things through again. If he bides his time, he can hit these places over either that American holiday of Thanksgiving, or maybe on Christmas. He'll rent a back up place before the job goes down, in case things don't work out. He doesn't think anyone would look for him or whoever they think they are looking for in such fancy digs. He can hang out there while he handles getting rid of whatever he manages to acquire.

Tomorrow he will move in to the new digs, then he will begin his recon of the possible places to hit. If he can't hit all of them, he'll hit the biggest most expensive one for sure.

Chapter 5

It's been a couple of weeks since Hawk moved in to the guest house. He's not in love with having to be in the cowboy disguise every time he sets foot out the door, but it's worth it. He's getting quite comfortable with it.

He's established himself in the neighborhood, letting the neighbors know he's taking care of the place. He's done that casually, telling people at the local grocery and such. He waves to all the locals when he's going out in one of the fancy rides. Hawk makes no pretenses