The TALONS Files: the chronicles of telepathic agent Ryan Dart

Ryan Creates Havoc

The Art Institute of Chicago had a very stately entrance. Two large lion sculptures, proudly perched atop pedestals, stood guard at a wide concrete staircase's base. The concrete building appeared to be inspired by ancient architecture. Ryan stood impressed by the sheer size of the museum, realizing that finding the painting might not be easy.

When the teenagers crossed into the lobby, the interior reminded Ryan of the Wisconsin State Capitol. This was almost as elegant, the biggest difference being the suits of armor, paintings and sculptures that occasionally filled the space and graced the walls.

They made it to the ticket attendant, standing at the mouth of a wide open expanse. Mai presented her phone to the black lady. The lady scanned the screen and nodded, "You two can go through."

"Can we have a map?" The teenaged girl asked politely.

"What are you looking for?" The black lady enthusiastically shot back.

"Van Gogh's self portrait."

"Oh, that's an easy one." The lady chirped, "Go up the stairs, through the doors and it's the second gallery on the left."

"Thanks," Mai flashed a broad smile, then added, "History report."

"No problem."

Ryan looked towards the attendant, flashing a winning smile while Mai jerked him along. "I'm just here for moral support."

* * *

His teenaged partner earnestly surveyed Ryan's grin, as they ascended the stone staircase. "We need a plan."

Ryan smiled knowingly at her, "I already have one." And he did, informing her, "If there's one perk to being subject to random outbursts, it's that I'm used to people looking at me like I'm weird. So, this plan will work quite well."

The Asian girl eyed her partner warily, "Do you want to share?"

"You know what picture it is, right?"

Mai nodded firmly, "Yes."

"Leave the theatrics to me."

"Theatrics?" The girl asked nervously.

"Yes," Ryan replied with a genuine laugh, "This should be a blast."

When they opened the glass doors and turned left, they found a gallery that was highlighted by a large painting. The artwork seemed too simple to Ryan. In almost cartoon fashion, the painting depicted a tree dotted grassy shoreline. A small crowd of people, donning parasols and wearing Victorian Era clothing, were scattered on the banks. There were about 15 people admiring the piece of art.

"I don't get it, my iPhone takes better pictures!" He mildly shouted, purposely trying to instigate a reaction.

About six people looked at him angrily.

Mai sunk in embarrassment, "Wrong gallery, bud, that's 'A Sunday on La Grande Jatte.'" She whispered.

"I know it's the wrong gallery," Ryan said, "I'm just warming up."

The next room they entered was an ugly shade of green, where impressionist paintings were spaced on the simplistic room's four sides. Most of the paintings seemed dull and boring to Ryan, as the colors definitely matched the walls.

Mai twisted around and searched behind her, where her eyes fixed on a space between the entrance and the adjacent wall. "That's it!" Joyfully, she pointed to a rough painting of a triangular jawed man sporting a reddish brown beard. His lighter hair was slicked back, as his blue eyes seemed coldly settled on his thin pallid face.

Ryan appraised the painting, "Really quite a narcissistic thing to do."

"What's that, paint yourself?"

"Yeah, check it out, his hair's all slicked back, ready for the camera, or brush. Look, he even got his good side, the one with an ear."

Mai screwed up her face with an admonishing laugh, whispering "Are you about ready with your plan?"

"Going into effect just about now." Ryan set his eye on the well dressed attendant, who casually scanned the room with a pleasant look on his face. He was tall, thin and white. "I'll just mosey on over to the other corner," Ryan said lowly. Before he started his short stroll, he was struck with a thought, "Wait, if we take this, both the Iraqi's and SCARE are going to know we stole it," He whispered.

A mischievous smile broke on Mai's face. "I've been given this from Phong." She held a small SD card between her thumb and forefinger. "It's all random formulas. I believe the chemical compound makes something like plant fertilizer or something. It'll be weeks before they notice. By then, we'll have all three disks."

"Well then," Ryan said with a grin, "I guess I'll make this work."

He made his way to the other corner of the room and held his head. "My God!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, as he put his hands on a very old frame. "Look at this piece of crap!" He purposely had his back to the attendant.

"Sir," the attendant nervously choked out the words. "You can't touch that painting."

Ryan jerked his hands from from the painting, spinning towards the guard. "No problem ma'am, I mean sir," But he didn't stop talking, "Seriously, I don't know how you guy's get away with it."

The man swallowed hard, as he reached for his radio. "Get away with what sir?"

"I spent an arm an a leg to get into this museum, and the paintings, I mean, look at them!" Ryan waved his arms towards the artwork, as if he was a 'Price is Right' model. "They're boring as hell!

"Perhaps you'd prefer another gallery then."

"I mean the colors are drab, they've picked some really lame subject matter and my god, this one," Ryan raged, still facing the attendant, yet leaning to put his hand flat on the canvas,

"Sir, Take your hands off the Painting!" The man said as he brought his radio to his mouth.

Everyone in the gallery had turned to watch the fiasco Ryan had created. Everyone except Mai that is. She was taping the phony SD card to the back of Van Gogh's self portrait, having the real one in her pants pocket already.

Ryan, once again, jerked his hand from the painting. "This one," He had also attracted a crowd from nearby galleries. "God man, I can take a better picture from a car at sixty miles an hour with my phone!"

Two bulky security guards, in full uniform, stormed in the room.

Ryan shot a winning smile towards them "Hey guys, I'm glad you're here, I was just leaving."

Mai rushed over, slipping between the guards and Ryan. "You'll have to excuse my stepbrother," She said. "He's got anxiety issues. We'll just leave."

The security guards surveyed the room, 'All of the paintings seem in order.' and then turned their attention back to the two teenagers. "What's his deal?"

"Crowds, these works of art just aren't captivating his attention. He sometimes just acts up."

"Yeah, this place sucks!"

Mai turned to Ryan, "Now Caleb, I really think you need your medication." She then turned back towards the guards. "We'll just leave."

The security men suspiciously studied the two. "We'll escort you out, C'mon."