Beauty in the Process

“The River Goddess in Sapphire. Beneath her sapphire veil, the river whispers secrets of timeless beauty. The painting that has taken the world by storm. It has captured the attention of every painter, art critic, and student of the fine arts and held it tightly in a vice grip for weeks now. Ever since its creation, people have lined up for days around the Aramondi Museum to catch a glimpse of the Goddess’. The newsboys are heralding it as a gift from the Gods, granted to humans so that they might bask in the light of true beauty in an ugly world. For that alone, I can think of no greater reason to steal it.

Painted by one of the least likely painters, a veritable nobody, Liam Fastler. A vagabond scoundrel, who peddled his caricatures to tourists for coppers. Struck by what he calls divine inspiration, he claims the painting flowed through his brush onto the page. He claims to have locked himself in his home for days on end, without food or water and emerged with the painting. He has created a work of utter beauty that has turned the art world on its head and sent many would-be artists into spirals of depression, claiming they could never do something like what Liam has created. Now worth approximately 273,000 gold pieces, The River Goddess in Sapphires hangs at the Aramondi in the kingdom of Dressle, where it is frequented by the royal family of Dressle. King Alber himself has taken quite the shine to the painting, going so far as to bask in the Goddess’ beauty every day after the museum closes. Imagine how much he would pay to get it back.

This job won’t be easy. The painting is guarded by a team of twelve at all hours of the day. Seven roam the halls of the Aramondi, each trained to be soldiers under the royal army. Their surveillance routes ensure that someone checks in on the Goddess every four minutes. That’s our window. The other five are positioned outside of the Aramondi on overwatch. They are all equipped with those new devices from the south that utilizes that explosive black powder, so their range and lethality are nothing to scoff at. On top of all that, the painting is large. Twenty feet high and six feet wide, I am amazed he painted something to such a scale. The Aramondi closes its doors to the public at dusk, as King Alber is usually the last visitor of the day.

This operation will require pinpoint accuracy, synchronization down to the second, and a team of experts at what they do. For those reasons I have put together a crew. Only the best, the cream of the crop. Gordan Lloyd, marksman, code name Ice Breaker. He will be positioned behind the rooftop snipers and will systematically take them out once the mission starts, giving us our own overwatch as the mission progresses. Julie Voss, high-society aristocrat, codename Switch. Using her wealth and connections, she has already acquired a replica of the painting from a copycat and has arranged for it to be stationed inside a box in their storage under the museum along with a bunch of other throw away paintings. She is one of the museum’s benefactors so getting access to the basement storage is trivial, and she will ensure our entry point in the loading bay by unlocking the doors. Mike Halker, professional thief, codename Bagman. He will handle the actual cutting of the painting from the frame, and replacement with the copy. Doesn’t have to be perfect, just good enough for the guards to not notice for a few rotations. Garrett Willow, demolitions expert, codename Fuse. He will be our safety net in case our window of opportunity shrinks. Nothing grabs the attention of soldiers like an explosion. Franny Dart, professional stagecoach racer, codename Wheels. She will get us out of there for our clean getaway. And lastly me, Aniq Bazer, professional thief, codename Foreman. I will enter with Bagman and oversee the operation. If all goes to plan, that painting will be in the backseat of our stagecoach before the moon reaches its highest point. With that I only have one more thing to say, we ready to do this?” I said taking time to look every one of my cohorts in the eyes. They all looked back with bright eyes and confident smiles, nodding in unison. “Alright, remember your signals and let’s go get rich.”

The sun was setting as we all took our positions around the museum. I could barely make out Ice Breaker as he slunk into the shadows of the alleyways between the building across the street. The snipers on the rooftop had already started making their rounds and took their overwatch positions. Down a few blocks away I could see the front end of Wheels and the stagecoach waiting at the corner, ready to drive in at the first sign of the signal. The last few patrons of the museum were starting to exit as a young tour guide was yelling, “Sorry everyone, closed for the day! We will open at sunrise! Feel free to come again and have a nice day!” Bagman nudged me, indicating it was time to move in. We pulled our dusty brown hoods over our heads to conceal our faces and walked around the block to the backside of the museum. After a quick hop over some fences, we were in the loading bay outside the museum.

We took our positions, hiding behind some discarded boxes and a few storage houses, waiting for the first signal. After a few moments a small rock in my pouch began to softly vibrate. I reached in over some loose sections of rope and pulled out a green stone. As I held it in my hand, Ice Breakers gravelly voice came through, “Clear.” “Got it.” I replied back. I put the rock back in my pouch, as Bagman smirked, “Those stones turned out to be pretty useful. Tell Switch I would like a pair when this is done.” I nudged him forward, “What do I look like? Your secretary? Tell her yourself. Now, let’s move.” We made our way to the small staff entrance beside the docking area where carts could be loaded and unloaded. Bagman in front with me close behind. He pulled the handle and cursed, “Locked! Didn’t Switch say they would be unlocked?” he said in a quiet whisper.

“Relax, she confirmed she unlocked them as she left. I guess an employee of the month went behind her and locked it back. That’s why I am with you. Besides it wouldn’t be a heist if things didn’t hit a snag.” I pulled out a lockpick and moved Bagman out of the way. “How are you a professional without lockpicking skills?” I asked Bagman mockingly. “I specialize in other areas of thievery.” He retorted back. I managed to get the lock open, and we proceeded inside.

The loading bay led directly down to the storage rooms under the museum. Boxes upon boxes were piled high to the ceiling, carefully arranged and positioned to take up the least amount of space possible on their massive shelves. Scattered around were the oblong pieces, either too large or too misshapen to be placed inside boxes. “Another snag it seems.” Bagman said as he gazed upon the mountain of artifacts and boxes. I didn’t know what he meant until I looked closer at the boxes. “Yeah, none of them are labeled.” I said with a sigh. “Did Switch say where the box would be?” Bagman asked. “No, just that it was labeled ‘tapestries from the far east.’” Bagman sighed, “Classic rich folk. Giving us an inch and expecting a mile.” I snapped at Bagman, “Enough, she is risking just as much as we are.” Bagman snickered, “Yeah, because if we get caught she is the first person I am ratting on. Let’s just see if we can’t find it.” My blood boiled with anxiety at the thought of us getting caught. It had actually never crossed my mind before right now. I had pulled hundreds of heists before, but with our window shrinking the pressure was mounting. “We aren’t getting caught.” I whispered to Bagman, but really to reassure myself.

After a couple minutes of skulking around the storage area our time was starting to run short. “Why don’t we get Fuse to start the distraction. Buy us more time to look.” Bagman whispered. “We only get one distraction, and I don’t want to waste it in case something worse happens.” I whispered back. Suddenly, the glint of metal caught my eye, as a steel plate was reflecting some of the light from outside. The plate was screwed into a box in the corner on the floor and was engraved ‘tapestries from the far east.’ I motioned to Bagman. He smiled and said, “An engraving on metal to mark the box? Couldn’t she have just carved into the wood or something?” I chuckled, “Nothing like an aristocrat to spare no expense.” We got to work opening the box and looking for the replica. She had placed a number of decoy tapestries on top to get past any cursory glances from the staff, but buried underneath was the copy. Rolled up like a large carpet, Bagman hoisted the copy on his shoulders, and we made our way to the stairs.

We opened the door to the main museum floor and peaked around the entryway before going in, trying to get a sense of where the guards were in their rounds. No one was in sight. Bagman and I spent hours memorizing their paths, someone should be around. Bagman noticed as well and tapped me on the shoulder. He put the rolled-up copy next to me and ventured out to get a better view. His footsteps were light for someone so burly. He managed to make his way across the main floor and peered around a corner wall. I pulled out a blue stone from my pouch and whispered into it, “Bagman what do you see.” I could see Bagman fumbling around in his many pockets trying to find the stone until he finally managed to grasp it. “Another snag. Leave the copy and come here.”

I propped the copy up and snuck over to his position. As I peered around I saw all seven guards that were supposed to be on duty gathered around in a circle chatting away. “Why aren’t they on patrol?” I asked Bagman, who simply shrugged. The guards were laughing and joking, gathered around the reception desk like a bunch of children on a field trip waiting to actually enter the museum once their chaperone gave them the go ahead. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a green stone, “Ice Breaker, come in. Is there anything unusual happening outside?” I waited for the response as Bagman kept a careful eye on the pack of guards.

A few seconds later the green stone vibrated and Ice Breakers gravelly voice came through in a low whisper, “Alber’s carriage is still out front. No sign of Alber.” Bagman and I shared a confused look. The sun had completely set.  Bagman whispered, “This is way past his usual time Foreman.” I put the green stone up to my mouth again, “Got it”, as I shoved it back in my pocket. “Why was he still here? What is going on?” I thought to myself as the pressure continued weighing down on me. I could feel my mind plotting out the worst scenarios, clouding my judgement. Instead of focusing on the task at hand my mind rushed to thoughts of failure. I slapped myself to gain control again and looked to Bagman, “How many guards are in the circle?” He started counting with his fingers, “Looks like all seven.” I nodded, “Good, let’s leave them and go for the Goddess.” “But what about Alber?” Bagman said tiptoeing back to the fake painting we stashed. I pulled out a red stone and whispered, “Fuse. Light it up.” After a couple seconds the stone whispered back, “Finally.”

Bagman and I made our way through a couple of the exhibits and finally to the display hall of the Goddess. There we finally saw her in all her glory. A soft hair maiden clad in white silks, bathing in the deepest of blues. A river ran through her feet as she poured an ornate golden pot of sapphires into the same river. I had to nudge Bagman to get him to take his eyes off of her. But as we looked down towards the floor, my heart sank. King Alber himself was sitting on the floor weeping into his hands. Dressed in his royal garb of jewels and puffy silks, he laid his crown and royal cane on the floor. His voice boomed as he put his grief into words.

“Oh Goddess, curse you, curse you and your beauty. You have filled my mind with the image of what could be instead of what I have. Your visage is unattainable in these human forms. No one in my kingdom comes close to your beauty, not even my wife. I love my wife dearly, but since your face has shown itself to me, it is all I think about. Why can I not look away from you? Why must your beauty shine brighter than the sun? Why do you torment me so?” King Alber said as he went back to sulking. Bagman looked to me for our next move. “I mean, I get it. Honestly, feel kind of bad for him.” Bagman said glancing up at the Goddess again. “It is just a painting Bagman, quit being so sentimental. We need to get him away from her.”

Suddenly a small rumble reverberated throughout the museum. “Perfect timing Fuse.” I said as I could hear the footsteps of the guards echoing down the hall. The footsteps grew quieter as they were heading the opposite direction, but the king did not move. He simply continued weeping. “Foreman? He isn’t moving. What now?” Bagman said growing anxious. Different scenarios flashed into my head all at once. Throwing one of the speaker stones and talking in it as a distraction. Pretending to be a guard and lying saying we need to leave for his own safety. Us getting caught. Eventually I just said, “Screw it. Here is our window. Pull the hood over your head and cover your face. When I go in, immediately get to work getting the painting. Got it?” Bagman nodded and readied himself to move.

I covered my face with the hood and rushed in, pulling out the small section of rope from my pouch. My footsteps caught the king by surprise as I rammed my shoulder into him, tackling him to the ground. I managed to get on his back and began tying his hands. His screams of protest followed by “GUARDS! GUARDS!” rang throughout the museum. By the time I finished tying and looked up, Bagman was already at the top of the painting standing on pitons he had jammed into the wall. “Wow, he does specialize in other areas.” I said to myself. Eventually I heard the ripping of canvas as Bagman was cutting the painting from the frame. He managed to slide with the cut of his knife, bringing him back down to the floor. As I started rolling up the painting he started going for the fake copy. “Stop, we don’t need that anymore, our cover is blown.” He dropped it and began helping me roll. I reached into my pouch and pulled out a yellow stone and yelled into it, “Wheels! We need extraction now. We have the Goddess.” Wheels responded immediately, “Understood.”

Bagman hoisted the Goddess onto his shoulders and started running back to the staircase to the loading bay. I ran after him but looked back at King Alber on the floor. His words finally reached my ears as I had been shutting him out to focus on the mission. “No! Please, don’t take her! Don’t take her from me!” His eyes were flooded with tears as he watched Bagman abscond with the painting around a corner. I felt a twinge of sadness fall over me, but I pushed it away and followed Bagman.

We made our way down the stairs and out the doors to the loading bay. Bagman hoisted the painting over the outer layer of fences, where Wheels was waiting for us. As I hopped over the fence I could here Bagman yelling, “Come on, let’s go!” I jumped into the back with the painting and Wheels whipped the reins, escaping the scene with the goods in hand.

As we got further and further away from the Aramondi, Bagman was already celebrating and recounting our exploits to Wheels. “…and then this guy tackled the freaking King! Wouldn’t be surprised if he is on a wanted poster by morning.” Wheels looked back at me and said mockingly, “So, all according to plan?” I unfurled the painting a little see the top portion of the Goddess’ head and smiled, “Not really, but therein lies the beauty in the process.”