The Great HeistMonsieur Auguste Fontaine strolls through the Salon Carré of the Louvre. He had recently had an argument with his wife, Agathe, during which she told him that he was a bully, incapable of earning a single franc. No Agathe, he thought, it's not me who's a brute. For Fontaine, the Louvre was an escape. An escape from his transgressor children, but worse still, from his barbaric wife. With each passage of Veronese, Da Vinci, Vermeer and Caravaggio, his heart calmed and the paintings replaced his daily concerns. Fontaine was not a popular man, as he avoided entering his house by every possible means. He stopped at the library, read books that weren't touched once, then entered the Louvre and finally took a long midnight walk through the magnolias of Parc Monceau. Never during his daily journey did he speak to an acquaintance in the small Parisian streets. But Augustus was also an observer. A trait he had learned from his silent lifestyle. And as he strolled in front of the great tapestry of the Louvre, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. “I have to imagine,” he laughed. His eyebrows furrowed and he turned ninety degrees to his right, completely stunned. “But…” he whispered. "Why can't it be," he whispered again. Where is she? Was he hallucinating? No, he was assured, as he touched the wall, where four empty iron hooks hung. “Mona Lisa.” This time he didn't whisper. Pénélope Brodeur had been sitting for twenty-seven hours on a large granite stone, in the middle of the woods of the Riou family farm. Dozens of sparrows flew from tree to tree and the sunlight struggled to shine through the branches that stretched to meet in a circle above her. The humid air hit his skin and wouldn't... middle of paper... every bag on the train and wouldn't keep the Mona Lisa if he found Penelope. It took him a few hundred francs to obey but he continued. However, I needed a backup plan. And that, my friend, is why I came to meet you this morning before her train left. When we both got back to the station, I told the conductor that if the bag search failed, a man in a gray suit could take over. I'm impressed, Antoine. Excellent!" said Vincenzo. And now, what do you plan to do with the Mona Lisa?" asked Langlois, interested. "Ahhh. I intend to do what this young girl wanted to do. Sell it. We can win millions Antoine! Imagine the riches! But first, we have to move the painting as far away from its place of origin as possible. This girl really planned all this with precision, because Italy seems to be the ideal place. and Langlois smiled with confidence The perilous adventure of Mona Lisa had only just begun..