The Fan

By Agncec, 2022

DISCLAIMER! This work is not affiliated with DreamWorks in any way. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the movie. All events herein are purely fictional and sprung from the writer's imagination. The mirror Earth where the story takes place is different from ours (although there are overlaps), so if you enjoy things "dark and realistic" do not continue reading as you may find this disheartening.

This story plays out approximately five years prior to the events of the movie.

Mr. Wolf casually pushed open the entrance door to an Italian downtown café. He wore hat, a white suit, dark vest, white shirt with a black bowtie, chalk-white pants and polished black shoes. A pair of yellow pilot sunglasses hid his eyes, providing the look of a sun-loving savvy gentleman. The tiny fake moustache was the finishing touch to mask his true identity as a nefarious criminal on the rise to infamy.

After taking a seat at the furthermost stall, conveniently close to the fire exit while also providing a full view of the café entrance, he allowed himself the luxury to relax in public and ordered a double-espresso.

Today's coup had gone as smooth as ever. The pursuing police were dispersing from the city centre like a swarm of angry wasps, chasing the multiple false trails just as predicted. Never would the police have guessed today's haul was hanging cheekily under the shirt of a well-dressed dandy in a nearby café.

Wolf stretched, delivered a kind smile and thank-you to the waitress coming with his order. Then he drank slowly to the day's success, savouring the finest coffee in the area.

The entrance doorbell tingled and Wolf threw a quick glance in the direction of the sound. Some kid with a camera had entered the café, probably intending to buy an ice-cream and having missed the sign on the front door stating: We DON'T sell ice-cream here!

Wolf smirked and resumed sipping on his espresso, pondering what the news extras were saying about the fancy royal European necklace being nicked on the very first day it was displayed. A sudden movement in the immediate vicinity pulled him out of his reverie.

The camera kid had rudely decided to occupy the seat facing his and sat staring at Wolf with determination. He looked to be in his early teens and wore an impeccable upper-class attire befitting someone who had attended today's royal necklace reveal. The most prominent feature about the youngster was his very curly hair the colour of August straw. It hung over a serious, intense face that was way too pale. Obviously this kid was a bit sun-shy.

"Hello." the boy said.

"Hello yourself." Wolf answered in a polite voice despite being utterly puzzled. "I don't believe we know each other. Do we know each other?"

"You don't know me but I know a great deal about you," the boy said and leaned forward, adding in a quiet voice, "mister Wolf."

"I beg your pardon? Who?"

Wolf's eyes scanned the premises real quick. Had something about his disguise been giving him away? Impossible! The waitress had been positively charmed like everybody else whenever he put this act on, hadn't she? The atmosphere in the place was as calm as a summer's lake.

The boy's expression of determination did not waver.

"I knew you were going to go after Queen Beatrix's necklace, what with all their boasting on the news about using the 'latest and greatest' security and what-not. I have been keeping a vigilant watch over that showroom all day." The boy patted his camera which had a long lens attached to its body. "Watching you work was great fun. I should have brought popcorn. Is it heavy to wear"