Author Notes: This is an adoption of Living Paradox's original story Blacks and Whites will special permission from some of his readers critics. Please read his original work in the first two chapters. Chapter 3 and everything after is built off of his original story notes, but I my writing in attempt to emulate his style. Please help me in preserving his memory.
Damn that Carmelita. She was always getting onto the scene right as the gang began making major moves. "You know, for once I wish Carmelita would wait until we're done before moving in," Sly spoke into the mic on his goggles.
"You're just gonna have to avoid her seeing you Sly," Bentley began. "The window for the guard change is only seven point three five one seconds at best. And for once, would you leave the romantic woos until after the main job is done? Now, you have to get to the computer room on the ninth floor. Joan de Brive will be making the transaction at ten thirty precisely."
"That little skunk-man is going to wish he had never even dreamed of the Cooper family treasure," the raccoon spoke before leaping up to a rail and scaling the fire escape. He needed to use the adjacent apartment building to get to an upper balcony before silently cutting a window and getting into the immense skyscraper. Joan de Brive was a business man with cunning on par with his own. He wasn't arrogant though, so he made for a very difficult man to swindle from. The skunk was a master of the stock trade as well, stealing millions and millions from the people of New York. Maybe that was why Carmelita had shown up…the only information the gang could find was in Interpol HQ…in a file…which Sly had taken a peak at after breaking in. The escape from that place, it still gave him chills. Carmelita had most likely figured out which file was tampered with and followed the Cooper gang here. It was a Sly-Bentley only job too, so Murray was anxious and a bit angry. This whole job was out of whack.
"Alright," Bentley began as Sly attached himself to the office window, suction cups holding his feet and one hand to the glass. "Use the diamond tip, and make sure you make a hole big enough to fit Murray through in case things get bad. Don't let it break." These jobs were not Sly's favorites by any means. They were tedious, long, and too precise even for him. "Good, now make it to the eighth floor stairwell. A guard is posted at the door to the ninth floor. When he leaves for break, you need to instantly get moving. The next guard will be there in less than thirty seconds. Also, it seems Carmelita brought backup with her, a bit more than usual, Joan's guards may not be the only thing you have to look out for. I'm moving the van to a more escapable position. I'll make sure the cow ram is warmed up too. Injury to world detectives is far less severe than death." The device was the same thing you would find on the front of an old coal train; if cows were on the tracks, they'd get pushed to the side instead of getting run over and possibly derailing the train. Bentley was a genius to be sure.
"Okay, the guard's leaving. I'm going in," Sly spoke as he darted to the door. The next guard, however, turned the corner when he arrived. "Crud!" His adversary came at him with a nightstick, but Sly got him with sleeping smoke before he could yell and raise the alarm. "A little memory eraser to top it off…and we're clear."
"Good," Bentley spoke as Sly made it down the ninth floor hall. "It's the seventh room on the left. Access code: 7738902714B6KK91"
"Who makes a sixteen-digit security code anyway?" Sly inquired.
"Someone who wanted a person to get caught even if they knew the whole thing," the turtle replied. "It's so long that you would be discovered during the day. Joan is no slouch. Now, get to the trades computer in cubicle C-3. The password is Batten_rouge."
"Wonder why he chose that…" the raccoon spoke into the air. "I'm in. Now, just plug in your little gadget into the USB port?"
"Correct, and set it to decrypt," Bentley returned. "Murray, I think the two-way street over there is good camouflage." The team wasn't even using their trademark blue van this time, just a modified black SUV, very modified. Carmelita would need keener eyes to catch them in New York if they didn't have their distinct calling card with them. "Alright, I'm getting the data. He's…damnable fiend!"
"What is it?" Sly asked. He heard the footsteps of a guard outside the door, but they passed without pause.
"He's sending your family's money to Raleigh in Vancouver."
"That slimy toad will NEVER get what my family worked so hard for. Thieving isn't for the lazy lowlifes like Raleigh. Taking it from some associate who snuck it right off the island…Joan was good; I'll give him that with all respect…but Raleigh…is the one man I wouldn't hesitate to kill at this point. How can we reroute it?"
"I think the best thing to do at this point Sly is put a reroute after Raleigh gets it," Bentley replied. "Joan and he are currently talking about the transaction. If the money completely disappears now, they'll know for sure it was you, and they'd be able to prove it was us who stole it. It wouldn't be the same as the rest of our jobs. Those couldn't be traced if we gave Interpol fifty years. This is just too risky Sly. I've got a tracer and root program ready. I'm attaching it to Joan's mainframe and reprogramming the antivirus. Anything sent from here, Joan's bank accounts, his laptop, anywhere…we can trace it, attach roots to Raleigh's computer, and route it back to any place we can heist it from. For now, just get out of there."
"Done," Sly spoke as he unplugged Bentley's device and stowed it in his pouch.
"Search this whole floor!" Carmelita yelled from down the hall.
"Damn!" Sly spat. He sprang out of the room.
"Cooper!" she yelled. Five men dropped to their knees before opening fire. Sly sprang out the window, breaking it before falling to the hotel roof below. He turned to see shock bolts flying toward him. Carmelita was following too. Was she mad? She had jumped from so high, and she seemed to have almost a hateful look on her face. It was now that Sly noticed: there was a lot of light below. "We've got you this time!" Carmelita declared, the fox shooting at him fervently. Sly found Apes quickly scaling the wall nearest the main street. Had the woman brought all of Interpol with her? Sly ran and jumped, ducked and rolled as he tried to elude his rather dangerous and furious pursuer.
"Sly, what in Hell is going on?" Bentley asked in worry over the mic. "She found you?"
"Yeah, and things really don't look good Bentley," Sly replied with actual worry in his voice. He was running faster than he ever had, running for his life, and not in a good way. After jumping to the next building, a helicopter came up overhead. "Oh no," Sly panted. He heard the shock pistol and dodged. Bentley's AC chopper came in and started to distract Interpol's pilot however. Carmelita and a couple cops pursued him to the next building, but only she remained as they jumped to the fourth, her gun blazing in complete rage. The raccoon turned. "I know you're still mad about the me not really having amnesia Carmelita, but do you want me back so much you need all of Interpol to catch me? I'll admit, I was almost cornered."
"You still are Cooper!" the fox yelled. "You know full well why I'm here! Come quietly, and I may choose not to shock you to death." The woman seemed to be in a real fury. "Juan, now!" Sly turned, and a man who had been hiding on his right fired at him. He only barely dodged as Carmelita came running in. It turned into hand-to-hand combat, and Sly used his cane to block as best he could. The man named Juan was in fact a tiger. He fired once in a while, making his fight with Carmelita much more difficult. "I will put you in jail tonight if it is…the…last…thing I DO!" Carmelita punched so hard that Sly's cane split in half, her gloved fist getting the raccoon square in the face. He staggered back, nose bleeding profusely, dizzy, looking at the two halves of his family's prized possession. Sly looked up in confusion before a shock bullet knocked him out painfully, him yelling before collapsing.
"Sly! Sly!" Bentley yelled into the mic, receiving no response. Murray stepped on the gas hard. "No!" he harshly told his friend. "Not all of Interpol, not here. We'll get him out after we regroup," he spoke with tears in his eyes.
Murray looked at his friend in fury before tearing up and driving back to their temporary base. "Sly…" he wheezed. It was painful to think about what was happening. Sly…the best friend he had, partner in crime, best thief in the world, was caught?...
"Good job deputy…" Carmelita told her partner emotionlessly. Sly Cooper, her rival, criminal, thief…courter…lie unconscious at her feet. She stepped on the earpiece and broke it before picking up her perp by the collar of his shirt. "Get him in cuffs. I'll take the cane." Sly was cuffed and chained in the back of an Interpol prisoner carrier, and they disappeared, the only evidence being a shattered window, and one with a hole fit for a hippo.
Sly awoke painfully in the back of the truck as it drove. He found Carmelita sitting across from him with an icy stare. "What on Earth…" SLAP! Carmelita hit him, hard. Sly had been slapped once by her, the woman feeling hurt and insulted, and while it stung, it wasn't like this. She was trying to hurt Sly. He teared up.
"You monster," she spoke venomously. Sly couldn't think of a single reason why the woman would call him that, and frankly, he didn't know if he wanted to find out the reason. "Lying, stealing, toying with me…but of all the lawless things you've done, why Sly?" she yelled as she gripped Sly by the front of his shirt and picked him up. Their faces were only inches apart.
"Carmelita," he grunted, "I honestly don't know what you mean." The woman pounded him against the side of the truck, making him wince and grunt. "Hey, that actually hurts."
"A monster like you doesn't feel pain," the woman spoke as she punched him again. Sly fell unconscious, and she sat down again and cried.
Author Notes: Review please! This is my first ever Sly cooper fic and I'd really like some feedback.