Fox, Carmelita M., June 10th, 2016
Paris
It's been three years since Sly disappeared. The short time I spent together with Sly on the right side of the law was a welcome change. But I may have been kidding myself into thinking that he had changed. However, deep inside, I felt as if I had lost a piece of my life without chasing him. But something else came of it, something more profound.
My work at Interpol has helped ease Sly's loss, but I just can't let him go. I keep waking up every morning, half expecting, half hoping that a report from Interpol will come with Sly's signature written all over it. Though each time, I'm forced to realize that he is indeed gone.
While Interpol allowed me the use of their facilities for a year in my search for Sly, I couldn't find a single clue about what time period Sly had been taken. Eventually, Interpol forced me to give up the search. On my vacation time, I still search for him, using some connections I've made over the years in various police stations around the world. But I have yet to find so much as a hint.Carmelita sighed as she finished her journal entry.
With a few clicks, she saved the document in a well-hidden part of her hard, leaning back in her chair and looking up at the ceiling of her small office. A calendar hanging on one of the many filing cabinets around her office caught her attention, rolling her head to the side and staring at the date. Had it been three years since Sly went missing? Carmelita had done everything that she could, and yet there was nothing to show for it.
After letting the thought mull through her tired brain, Carmelita reached her arms above her head to stretch. A tattered photo on her desk drew her gaze as she sat back up. It depicted her caught by surprise when Sly kissed her on the cheek. She found it in the wreckage of Le Paradox's blimp after stopping him from re-writing history. She missed his soft fur against her cheek and the way he would smirk every time she walked into the room when a hard knock on her office shocked out of her trance.
"Come in," she called, straightening her back as her boss walked in.
"There's someone by the name of Mr. Shell here to see you, Ms. Fox. He says that he has something important to talk to you about." He said gruffly. Carmelita nodded her approval as her boss signaled outside the door. A hunched over form seated in a wheelchair rolled through the door, their face wrapped in a scarf and dressed in a heavy coat. Carmelita's lit up in surprise when Bentley pulled the scarf from his face after the door shut.
"Hey, Carmelita! Good thing I had my trusty, junior digisouts scarf, otherwise I never would have gotten in here. How've you been?" He said, careful not to speak too loudly as his stuffy nosed voice tended to be, leaning up in his chair a bit to hug Carmelita.
"It's good to see you, Bentley. I've been hanging in there. After Sly disappeared, I was able to bring most of the international criminals to justice. But it's left a void where only amateurs try to fill the space left behind." She answered, slumping into her chair and placing a hand on a stack of folders on the side of her desk while Bentley rolled to the front.
"Have you found anything concerning Sly?" he asked, making Carmelita sigh.
"I've been searching for clues on Sly using my vacation time. But so far, I haven't been able to find anything. It's as if he just disappeared altogether." Bentley slumped back into his wheelchair, pounding his finger into its arm as he spoke.
"I've been searching non-stop, but I haven't been able to find anything. Even the Thevious Racoonous hasn't provided any new clues as to when or where he may be." He exclaimed, both of them sitting silently for a while before Bentley sat up in his chair and folded his hands, rubbing his thumbs together.
"I feel like there's nothing left to search. I know that Sly would never give up on any of us so it's the least I can do for him." He said with a low voice. Carmelita felt a tear sting the corner of her eye before sitting up and leaning on her desk to change subjects.
"How's Murray been doing? I haven't seen him since Sly disappeared." Bentley chuckled and pushed button bringing up a holographic sports page.
"Murray's actually on his way to being a heavyweight wrestling champion this year. You'd hardly recognize him; he's slimmed down and bulked up." Carmelita laughed slightly, imagining the big purple hippo sporting a huge gold buckle belt and flexing as hard as he could for the camera.
"I have no doubt he'll do it," She grinned, reading over the page in front of her for a moment.
"So, what brings you to the station? In disguise no less. You've been under the radar this entire time, so there's nothing to arrest you for." Carmelita asked, sitting back in her chair looking Bentley's direction. Immediately Bentley reached into his pocket and pulled from it a stiff, yellowing piece of paper.
"I've actually come to give you this: I found it while cleaning up some of Sly's stuff that had fallen over. As for the disguise, well, I'm still not sure everyone is aware of the arrangement we made after the Clock-La incident." He explained. Carmelita had just taken it from Bentley's grip when Carmelita's boss walked in.
"Hey, Fox. Deadeye is at it again." He called with a grunt. Carmelita quickly pulled her hand back to hide the paper as Bentley turned his chair facing away from the door.
"Deadeye? Didn't I arrest him for that heist in Japan?" Carmelita asked, tucking the paper in her skirt pocket and reaching for her trusty shock pistol stored within her desk drawer, slamming a battery into the handle.
"He was, but someone broke him out. Dimitri says Deadeye and whoever was helping him stowed away on a plane headed for Egypt." The Captain said. Once she had holstered her pistol, Carmelita reached to one of her many filing cabinets and pulled the file so she could refresh her memory.
"Alright, I'll be on my way in a few." She said. The captain began closing the door, then stopped and looked closer at the wheelchair facing away from him before leaving. Carmelita was so absorbed in the file she forgot Bentley and silently hung her head while a single tear rolled down her snout.
"You still think about him don't you?" Bentley asked, turning around and rolling over to her taking hold of her hand.
"Wha- di…" but her attempts to explain away what she had unknowingly revealed were for naught, nodding slowly.
"I'm sure that wherever or whenever Sly is, he's thinking about you too," Bentley said, patting her hand before wrapping his face once again and rolling out the door with Carmelita who drove to the airport. Memories from long ago came to mind as she drove.
The first time she had ever heard the name Sly Cooper was when she was fresh out of the academy. That first meeting would lead to her following the damned ringtail all over the world, only to have to settle for the criminals he had so aptly taken down. Her chasing him would lead to their first kiss after bringing down that mechanical warlock Clockwerk. It surprised her, yes, but it felt exhilaratingly natural. There was something more she missed. It wasn't the chasing or the near captures; it was the fun she had doing so.
When she was finally aboard the plane and sitting down in her seat, she heard the note in her pocket crumple. Quickly, she pulled it from her pocket and opened it carefully so as not to tear the aged paper when something fell out of it and under the seat. With a quick move, she reached down and pulled out an expensive looking diamond ring.
Finely etched designs into the band that swirled and curled around her first name written in a thin calligraphic font entranced her. When the flight attendants begin giving all the passengers the oh-so-boring safety run through, she remembered the note. The neat writing on it looked more like a personal script.
1. Take her out to an early dinner
2. Walk around town, making small talk
3. Take her to the Eiffel Tower
4. Begin just as the sun begins to set
My dear Carmelita: we've known each other for quite some time. And while our meetings in the past may not have been under the best of circumstances, I learned to enjoy our little rendezvous. But these past two years have made me realize that while our relationship may have been fun, it was lacking. I've wanted to ask you this for some time, but I felt that stealing you a ring would ruin everything you stand for, and what I would love to build. And so after a few months of hard work, I've purchased this ring in hopes of asking you this one question:
Note: kneel at this part cooper!
Carmelita Montoya Fox, will you marry me?
Tears began to well up in her eyes as she finished the note, wiping one of them away and holding up the ring to the light, almost able to see Sly kneeling before her with the ring in his hand, eager for her answer.
"Damn you ring tale." She thought as she smiled and slipped the ring onto her finger perfectly. Emotions within her heart overflowed as she bowed her head and softly cried as the roar of the plane's engines rose. Once the plane leveled out at its cruising altitude, she fell asleep, dreaming of Cooper and his daring capers all the while her giving chase. Every time she was about to catch him, he would disappear in a puff of smoke. She jerked to a stop when she felt Sly's hands around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder.
"I hear you've been looking for me?" he asked. Carmelita tried to answer, but her voice wouldn't make any noise, turning around to face him only to find him gone.
"You've gotten rusty, Inspector," Sly said, making her whirl around again to see him standing on the balcony railing, saluting before jumping off as she reached for him, waking her with a start and the plane began its descent into Egypt. The endless dunes reminded her of the slightly uncomfortable performance she gave for a group of apes while they were in Arabia during their visit to Sly's ancestor Salem al Coopar. The Inspector never revealed to any of them, especially Sly, that in the final seconds of that dance, Carmelita was secretly trying to catch Cooper's eye. Once the plane had landed, and she disembarked, she was taken by police cruiser to the Egyptian Interpol office where she briefed all the officers there about Deadeye.
After the briefing, Carmelita was escorted to the museum and briefed about the stolen piece: a small portion of ancient Egyptian art from the days of Tutankhamen, estimated at $4.6 million. In its place was a poorly constructed in the shape of a cartoon pistol. Carmelita let out a frustrated growl; it wasn't because it was another criminal she had to hunt down, it was that there were so many thieves out there attempting to take Sly's place. Most of these would be master thieves even copied his signature of leaving behind a calling card.
As Carmelita calmed herself, her eye caught something familiar off to the side on another tablet. A closer look at the worn pictures revealed the all too familiar crook of Sly's cane among the angular pictures making her smile. As she read over the images for the account of the event, one image made her blood run cold.
As she panned her vision to the left, she saw the unmistakable image of Sly with a large jewel in his hand and right behind him, a platoon of guards giving chase. Carmelita quickly covered her mouth, stifling her joy, or sorrow, or, oh, she didn't know what to feel! Frustrated, The Inspector left the museum telling the guards that she was going back to the office to look up some old records and maybe get a lead on Deadeye. Instead, she began madly searching the databanks of Interpol for anything related to Sly, all the way from his father until he disappeared. When she found a file that looked promising and went to open it, she was promptly blocked off by a security clearance warning.
"Security clearance? Since when did I need a security clearance?" she thought, trying to open another file, but again getting the same security clearance warning.
"What's going on here!" she shouted, slamming her hands down on the desk. No sooner had she finished, then a very important looking Doberman walked through the door.
"Ms. Fox, is it?" he asked with a smooth tone.
"Who are you?!" Carmelita demanded, drawing her pistol and charging the capacitors to the maximum. The Doberman held up his hands and tilted his head slightly.
"Easy there, Fox. My name is Darius Hunter, and I'm here at the request of the F.B.I." he said, reaching into his pocket and producing a badge.
"What would the United States F.B.I. want with an Interpol Officer?" she demanded, lowering her pistol but still keeping her aggressive stance.
"We caught your searches on Sly Cooper through the Interpol's database in recent months; not everyone got the memo concerning his files it seems," Hunter answered, walking in further and placing a card on the desk.
"What do you mean?" Carmelita asked.
"All files concerning Sly Cooper were to be turned over to the F.B.I., and any remaining files and or evidence concerning him are to be turned over if more files are found. Also, his accomplices Murray and Bentley are under investigation." Carmelita raised an eyebrow and holstered her pistol; something about this Darius Hunter didn't sit right with her.
"Sly was nothing more than a thief. Why the sudden interest by the F.B.I.?" she questioned, reaching for his card and sitting down at her desk.
"I'm sorry to say but that's classified, and only those with proper clearance are allowed to view his files. You haven't found anything more, have you?" Hunter asked, leaning down to her, close enough that Carmelita could smell the overpowering cologne he wore.
"No, I haven't." She answered flatly. Hunter turned his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at her for a while.
"Alright. If you do find anything, call the number on that card." Hunter said, walking out of the office, leaving Carmelita with a deep sense of mistrust rooted in her gut. There was something wrong about him, but she couldn't tell what. Upon returning to the museum to hopefully get a better look at the tablet she had seen, two F.B.I. Officers informed her that the investigation would be taken over by them. She tried to get through by showing them her badge, but again she was turned down and even escorted away.
She had to get another look at that tablet, maybe even get Bentley to look at it and possibly decrypt the words on it. But she couldn't risk it since the F.B.I. was looking into him too. Any exposure could lead to his arrest.
"What to do, what to do!" she asked herself over and over again, pacing in her office until she thought the floorboards would break. When she couldn't think of any legal way to get into that museum she slammed her hand down on her desk. Even if she could find a way in, Bentley would no doubt be caught. Then she saw the ring on her finger as it reflected the light into her eyes.
"No, I can't…" she said aloud, realizing that someone might be listening to her. But what choice did she have? Carmelita had found a clue to when Sly was, and it offered her a chance to get him back. The only thing standing in her way was the very thing that she had fought so hard to uphold; The Law. With a huff, Carmelita sat down and stared up at the ceiling, holding up her hand and turning it to watch the light reflect off the gold. With a disappointed sigh, she lowered her hand to the bridge of her nose and shook her head.
"I can't believe I'm doing this…" she thought, going to the roof, pulling out her cell phone and dialing Bentley's number, given to her soon after Sly's disappearance so they could all keep in touch.
"Bentley? It's Carmelita. Good, and you? Listen, I know this is going to sound loco, but I need you to come to Egypt… there's just something I want to ask you in person… you have connections for transport? Alright, I'll be waiting for your call."