The Art Thief's Guide To Freedom

4: Step Four: How To Look Good In An Ankle Monitor

"Two masked thieves pulled The Scream and another painting, Madonna, off the wall as stunned visitors watched on Sunday. One robber threatened staff with a gun before the pair escaped in a waiting car, a museum official told the BBC. The car was later recovered and police also found parts of picture frames near to where a witness reported seeing a suspect vehicle. The Munch Museum said the two stolen paintings were among its most valuable - worth an estimated $19m (£10.4m) together, according to the BBC's Lars Bevanger."

~Lars Bevanger, BBC News, 22 August 2004

~**~~**~

The plane ride from Seattle to Boston went by quicker than she thought it would.

Mainly because she was distracted the entire time. The FBI had gone all out to transport her. Though Nico hadn't had much of a choice, she did appreciate the private jet. Given, they served her suspicious looks in lieu of a glass of champagne but she wasn't complaining.

The air was clean, filtered, and had no lingering scent of stale urine. The leather seats were plush and molded perfectly to her body when she sat down. She felt very underdressed in her orange jumpsuit and yellowing (they had once been white) loafers. Even the handcuff securing her to the seat didn't take away her relief. After the year she had just had, this was pure heaven.

She remembered the stack of papers she had signed before stepping out from behind bars. Agent Patterson had suggested that she consult an attorney before signing anything but Nico didn't want to wait. She didn't want to risk the chance of the offer being rescinded.

There had been so many clauses and stipulations to her brief liberation, she didn't bother reading them all.

That was a problem for future Nico anyway.

Besides, she had no intention of keeping her side of the bargain. Part of it, yes. But returning to prison afterward, no.

She turned her head from the window towards the agent sitting across from her.

His suit was wrinkled, the black material crumpled from his time in the prison. His black tie was slightly askew, pulling away from his collar. The mellow illumination of the overhead light shone down on his hair.

It was golden brown in color, with hints of a subtle red streaked throughout. The kind of color the trees turned during the middle of Autumn, right before the leaves became crisp and fell from the branches. Nico felt there were hundreds of artists who would line up to just get a peek at that hue, never mind the texture.

He was fiddling with a Rubik's cube, the clicking of each turn filling the cabin. Four sides were already complete and the only imperfection in the last two was a red square in the middle of the yellow section. He rotated the square in a complete 360-degree circle.

It didn't help.

After a few minutes of watching him, Nico saw another agent walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder. The woman leaned down and whispered something in his ear.

Upon hearing it, Agent Patterson mumbled something to himself and tucked the cube into his jacket pocket. Rising, he walked past Nico and out of sight.

Nico forced herself to remain front-facing. She did, however, allow herself permission to angle her ear in the direction Agent Patterson had gone. A few words floated back to her.

Change in destination.

Refiling of IFR schedule.

Kingmaker.