Ocean's Twelve

The Past

3 and a half years ago....

Rusty walked into the apartment, drenched head to toe from the rain. He wandered through and placed his small briefcase on the table, and took a sip of the wine that was on the table. He went into the bedroom and saw his girlfriend who was somewhat asleep.

"Hi," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the woman on the lips.

"How'd it go?" she mumbled back.

"Lousy."

"Got a '63 Thunderbird I would've sold in a day a year ago. Now they just wanna look at the pictures-You smell nice," he stated as he got up and headed towards the bathroom,"How was your day?"

"It was great. We had a big breakthrough in the Bulgari case."

"Really?" Rusty asked, a sense of dread filling him.

"We found a boot print," she paused,"A really good one."

"The left heel was worn way down." Rusty looked down at his boot, the left one fit her description, he needed out.

"That's a good lead,"Rusty said, trying to sound positive.

"I know. We found a hair."

"A hair, wow."

"It's at the lab," she smiled to herself,"So hopefully by noon tomorrow we'll find out his DNA... what kind of conditioner he uses, if he streaks his hair...if he has dandruff, everything," she listed,"Isn't that amazing?"

"That is amazing," Rusty replied. It wasn't.

"You know, having those extra men really paid off," she told him.

"Oh, you're just being modest."

"Are you coming to bed, baby?" She asked him, ready to fall asleep.

"I'm just gonna have a shower. Don't let me keep you up." Rusty closed the door, he stood back and ran his hand through his hair- shit. He clocked the open window, hoisted himself up and left. She'll bloody know. So, he rang the only person he knew to.

"Mila, listen, the heist we did last week? Well Isabel has all the DNA, she'll know it's me."

"Fucks sake Rusty, we all had one job, you had one job, not to leave any prints and to not get fucking caught, you've cocked up," Emilia replies on the other side of the phone,"What you doing now?"

"Left through a window, now on my way to the airport, then I'll be home."

"Rus, that's fifteen hours," she sighed.

"I know, I know, but it's the only way, Mila, look, I'm sorry, okay? I know I've cocked up, and I apologise, I'll fix it-"

"How you going to do that huh? You can't exactly go back to her or you'll be fucking arrested!"

"I don't know," he replied, guilt weighing heavily upon him hearing her voice.

"The fact you gave her your name Rus, she can track us, we'll have to move." Emilia didn't want to move, she loved Chicago.

"Then we'll move to Santa Monica."

"Right, okay, I'll start packing, see you soon Rus," Emilia said.

"See you Mila."

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~East Haven, Connecticut
~Three and a half weeks ago

"Good morning." The accountant greeted the man in the suit.

"Good morning."

"And you are Mr...?"