Legacy - A Ducktales Fanfic.

33. As Good as His Word.

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   It was nearly eleven in the morning in New York and from the comfort of a leather chair and an ice-cold can of Pep in his hand, Louie enjoyed the view of the sun cutting through the Manhattan skyline as he cruised above the city in Cyrus' private Learjet 45.

After his entry into the 40 Thieves, Louie had spent three days with his Mentor, learning about the history and techniques used by the criminal organisation. Having left England at approximately four am, the two had slept through the first six hours of the seven and a half hour flight, they were both awake for the final hour of their journey. 

Currently, the younger Duck was sitting opposite his mentor, the latter of who, was mostly focused on conducting business on his phone.

"Look I don't care what Octavio is offering and I don't care if he tries to use our history to guilt me. Tell him, thirty is the lowest I'll go, understood... Good." - With that, he left the call.

"What are you selling?" - Louie questioned, having half-heartedly listened in to his conversation.

"Wine."

"Stolen wine?"

Cyrus shook his head. - "I own a large estate back in my homeland, most of which is dedicated to the process of winemaking." - He explained, taking a glimpse out of window at the view which Louie had been enjoying moments before. - "If I was more a humble man, I'd say my Wine is good, but it's not. It's the best."

"Sounds like a good money laundering business." - His apprentice responded.

"It is." - Cyrus admitted. - "It's also a good cover. Members of society's elite, love rare and expensive things. My Wine is both of those. It allows me to get close royalty, CEOs and world leaders without raising any suspicion. But if I'm being honest, I just like the normality of being Cyrus Paterno, renowned Vintner and businessman, instead of The Spectre, wanted thief."

Louie damn near choked on his Pep. - "You're The Spectre?" - He questioned, wiping his face.

Every thief knew of The Spectre- Hell, even every non-thief, knew the legend of The Spectre. The legendary criminal had been the topic of hundreds of TV specials, YouTube videos and true-crime podcasts as well as acting as the inspiration of many fictional characters.

There was a famous story about that nearly everybody who knew of The Spectre had heard... Apparently, while in England, he got drunk in a pub and on a dare, the thief had broken into the Tower of London, stole the Crown Jewels, taken them back to the pub, showed his friend before retracing his steps and putting the crown, sceptre and orb back in its display case.

He did it all without tripping a single alarm and under two hours.

Safe to say, Louie was starstruck.

"You're The Spectre?" - The teenager questioned, his eyes wide. - "You've been like my idol before I even became a thief." - He admitted.

Cyrus smiled yet raised one of his eyebrows at the statement. - "Really?"

Louie sat forward in his seat and nodded fanatically. If he was more aware of how he was acting in front of his hero, he would have been embarrassed. - "When I was around nine years old, my Uncle Donald took my Brothers and I to the local library, I wasn't too excited about spending an entire afternoon in a dusty hall filled with stale air and old books, up until I found this book... A book about you."

The young thief could picture that day clearly in his mind. The crisp October air, the discoloured rainbow foam jigsaw mats, the stench of coffee on the breath of the ancient librarian. It was one of his defining memories after all, but what Louie remembered most of all was the lone navy backed book left abandoned on the small oak table sitting out of the way.