Ocean's Twelve

The Rival

"All right, the Night Fox has a name. Francois Toulour," Danny began,"Baron Francois Toulour. Father was a French industrialist, mother was Italian nobility. He never met her, but he inherited her title." He paused briefly,"The bad news is he's rich, he's bored and he's talented. The really bad news is he was trained by LeMarc."

"This is not good," Livingston remarked.

"With the LeMarc? Gaspar LeMarc?" Linus quizzed Danny.

"That's the one."

"Well, we're doomed," Virgil said.

"We're not doomed," his brother replied,"He's one guy, and he's French."

Basher added,"Yeah. Before we get too impressed by his background. Let's hear what he's done."

Emilia nodded,"He started in the '90s. Bank of Geneva, the Danish Treasury, the Bank of Italy, AMC Amro...the Brussels Diamond Exchange,
Antwerp Diamond Exchange.

"Wait, wait. All those in the 1990s?" Linus questioned.

"I'm only up to '96."

"Seriously?"

Emilia hummed and continued,"In '97, he went through an art phase. He hit the Tate in London, the Louvre in Paris, twice, and the Prado."

"Wait. No, no, hang on. The Prado Museum in '97? That was Moretti. Everybody knows that..."

Danny interuppted,"He is Moretti. It's one of his aliases."

Emilia looked around at the group,"Okay, I'll skip to my favorite. In 2002, he stole the king of Morocco's 200-foot yacht. Vanished into thin air. Crew surfaced days later in a life raft. Couldn't remember a thing."

"How do you hide a 200-foot yacht?"

"If the king knows, he's not telling," Danny led,"He got it back a month later. He now plays tennis with Toulour every weekend."

"We're in some serious trouble here, aren't we?" Turk asked.

Basher agreed,"Copy that."

"So, what do we do?" Linus asked.

"We respond," the siblings said.

"Respond? How?"

"In kind."

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~Lake Como, Italy

Second Friday, Five days left...

"Mr. Ocean."

Danny turned to Toulour,"You broke rule number one, and that has consequences."

"Oh, you must be talking about the paintings,"Toulour realised,"Don't worry. You'll be dead in five days, and I'll get my paintings back."

"Unless you have an accident first."

"I don't think so, Daniel," he cocked his head,"Perhaps I should explain to you why I'm tormenting you."