Chapter 11 – Making Acquaintances
A/N: I TOLD you that they would be coming out like I did them last year : ) School has slowed down and the game I am spearheading is well into development, so I can take a bit of a break and actually get some darn writing done! Plus, I have an incentive to finish; Sly 4 (no matter how freaking amazing that it will be) will completely mess up the story and continuity that I have set up, and seeing as how I have the basic framework for a sequel in the works when I finish TFC, I want to start cranking out chapters like there is no tomorrow. Oh, have I told you all that since this fic has been so successful that a sequel is in the works? No? Well, isn't that a nice bit of news for some of my more dedicated readers ; )
Sly Cooper was slumbering peacefully, caught up in dreams of pure bliss brought on by the very real bliss that he had shared with the lovely red fox laying flush next to him. He was the happiest raccoon in the world who believed (quite truthfully so) that nothing could get any better than it already was; he was reunited with family, he had amazing and loyal friends, and most excitingly to him, he had become engaged to who he saw as the single loveliest creature on all the earth. Everything was perfect, except for the slight chill of a breeze that brushed playfully against his fur. Shivering slightly, his still sleepy eyes crept slowly open to fall on the window on the opposite side of the room. Identifying it as the source of the offending draft, he gently eased away from Carmelita, trying his absolute best to not interrupt what he was sure were absolutely wonderful dreams. Much to his annoyance, the bed creaked as he sat up, causing his love to stir. Sitting motionless for a few seconds to ensure that he had not woken her, he swung his feet out over the side of the bed and stood up. Scratching his exposed midriff gently, he began to walk towards the open window, the air growing cooler as he got near.
"What is it, Cooper?" came a sleepy sounding voice from the bed behind him. He let out a sigh knowing that he had inadvertently woken her.
He grasped the cool metal of the window frame and pulled it closed, causing it to issue a smooth click. "Must've left the window open, don't worry about it," he replied, trying to mask his self disappointment. Turning on his heel, he silently padded back over to the bed and sat down. Before he lay fully down he planted a quick kiss on Carmelita's cheek, causing her to snuggle down into her pillow. Even though her eyes were closed, Sly could almost see her deep, chocolate colored eyes delving into his soul. Smiling inwardly, he lay his head down and pulled the sheets up over himself, ridding any trace of a chill that the open window had imparted upon him. Warm and contented, he fell asleep almost instantly.
Several hours of uneventful, yet peaceful sleep passed by until something that a closed window could not prevent tickled Sly's features; a ray of morning sunshine.
Yawning deeply, the raccoon sat up in bed and looked down to where he had last seen Carmelita, but to his surprise she wasn't there. Knowing that he was naked, he made a quick look to the doorway to make sure that no one was near. Reassured, he stepped groggily out of bed and made his way around the room picking up bits of his clothing that had been carelessly discarded the night previous.
After a couple of minutes had passed, all had been found and applied except for one key item; his mask. Standing in the middle of the room, hands akimbo, he looked to the four corners of the room each in turn. Disappointed, yet undeterred, he took a step towards the door only to notice that something didn't seem right. Stopping momentarily to think about what it might be, he looked down, and then began to laugh.
Unbuttoning his pants, he slipped out of them and turned them around to the proper direction before stepping back in. Patting down the pleated edges of his disguise-turned-outfit, he continued on his way to the door.
As he got closer to the living room, he began to hear faint traces of conversation floating towards him. He couldn't quite make it out, but he was certain that there was a voice mixed in that he didn't recognize. Several steps later, he could finally start to make out what was being said;
"Amby knows that Cooper is here," said the unfamiliar voice. "And to say that he is unhappy would be an understatement."
A more familiar voice, one belonging to Luc, responded. "I don't feel like I need to tell you all that staying here is no longer safe for any of us." There was a pause. "That means you as well, Ms. Claire."
"WHAT!" came a shrill voice immediately after Luc finished. Sly guessed that it belonged to his recently found relative. "Do you expect me to run off with people that I just met?"
"Sly and the others did it with me," replied Luc. At this, Sly stepped into the room and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. "Ah! Cooper is awake! Now we can really get to work."
Sly rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the room before locking eyes with the bat. "I still don't know why I decided to go with you so easily," voiced Sly. "but I'm glad I did." After this statement, he looked at Claire who in turn looked at Carmelita.
"Hey, don't look at me. I was brought here almost against my will."
"By the way," said Bentley from his location next to the couch. "Good morning, Sly."
Sly chuckled. "Yeah, good morning to you guys, too." He walked forwards and positioned himself between Murray and Penelope. "What did I hear about it not being safe here anymore?"
Luc responded to his query without hesitation. "Ah! Before we get to that, I almost forgot." He walked a few steps to his left to stand next to a cheetah that Sly did not recognize. "This," he continued, "is Aero." The spotted creature bowed slightly in Sly's direction.
Sly looked him up and down, noting everything of interest about him. He was dressed rather plainly and haphazardly, as if he had just thrown on a set of clothes without looking at them, but that could not hide his lean figure from showing through underneath the thin layers of fabric. His entire body looked like a spring that was coiled and ready to be unleashed. Most surprising about his appearance, however, was his spots. All cheetahs have spots, this is common knowledge, but they are well accepted to be black. This cheetah standing in front of sly, however, was covered from head to tail in silverfish gray spots that gave him an almost shimmering appearance.
"Known as Two to the rest of the Numbers, myself included," continued Luc, "he is the messenger of the group, and has athletics that rival even yours, Cooper. More importantly than that, however, is that he is my fly on the wall, my ear on the inside, that I have tasked with spying on Ambroise."
The oddly spotted cheetah spoke up. "I was recruited to the numbers under the promise that I would be able to put my skills to good use. Good use, as it turns out, means running illegal and morally wrong operations in order to hunt down some fabled treasure that has apparently been lost to time." He shrugged. "They threatened to kill me if I left, so I decided to do the next best thing; work with them to work against them. Luc here must have seen that something wasn't right with me, and approached me about it. At this point, it was no secret that I didn't exactly like my position, and as it turns out neither did he. He offered me a position to help him undermine the operations of the Numbers as a whole, so naturally I jumped on the opportunity."
"Sorry to interrupt," interrupted Sly, directly addressing Aero for the first time, "but you and Luc keep referencing the Numbers."
Aero cocked his head to the side. "Yes?"
"I know that they are some personal army or something for a dude whose day we are really trying to ruin, but who exactly are they?" After saying this, Sly looked to Luc expectantly. "I assume, since you used to work for the guy, that you knew your co-workers?"
Luc gave him a sharp-toothed smile that sent shivers down his spine. "Sorry, it must have slipped my mind." He cleared his throat in a rather raspy manner before continuing. "Number One: Mikael Kozdras. A bit of an eclectic background, this one… A Russian born leopard trained in a Japanese fighting style that focuses on swords and other sharp instruments. He could cut the wings from a fly, but his devotion to his 'art' left him a broken man; he is an incurable psychopath that sees no difference between natural death and cold-blooded murder, and Ambroise has had to reprimand him several times for 'accidentally' keeping a rotting body or 2 in his quarters for company."
Carmelita turned to look at him, a cold sheen in her eyes. "He killed my friends at Interpol…"
Luc did not respond, and merely continued on with the next member. "I believe you have all already come to know Number Two," he said, gesturing to Aero. "Is there anything that you want to make clear about yourself?"
Aero sighed, rolling his eyes across the small crowd of people in front of him. "I have a story, but I would rather share it when I come to know you all better. I know that Luc has a lot of faith in you, but I'm still a little nervous."
"Very well," continued the aging bat. "Number Three: Karter Verdun. A black rat that grew up on the streets of England not far from here. The stealth expert of the Numbers, he is in charge of infiltration and espionage.
"Number Four; Celine Vakaruni. A rather beautiful mink and a hand to hand expert that is tasked with jobs that require a death with no bloodshed.
"Number Five: A lynx that goes by the name of Deyna Parrish. He is skilled in explosives, and handles tasks that require very little subtlety. We have him to thank for destroying that airport just recently.
"Number Six: Ethan Khal. A snake that is a very important imformant to Ambroise thanks to his connections to the occult. He has the ability to call upon the remnants of the dead anywhere in the world to act as his eyes, ears, arms, and legs.
"Number Seven: Lucas Marlin. He was a reconnaissance expert that worked hand in hand with Three. You all might now him as that one unlucky bastard that thought it would be a good idea to show up at your safehouse at the same time as I, and we all know how that turned out.
"Number Eight: Weyland Rhodes. A wolverine, but not like one that you would expect. He is very slimly built for a wolverine, and doesn't rely on brute strength to take town his opponents. He specializes in thrown weapons such as knives, and he was brought on to the Numbers thanks to his rather… extreme views on how a problem should be dealt with.
"Number Nine: Neyla Alighera. She encountered a rather dreadful series of events a few years ago that left her horrendously scarred, both physically and mentally. There is not a lot that I know about her, as she joined shortly before I 'left'. I do know that she replaced the previous Nine after Ambroise tore him to pieces in a fit of rage.
"Number Ten: Ian Makavelich. A Russian born Hyena and another yet another incurable psychopath. Instead of placing no value on others, however, he has so little regard for his own life that I am honestly surprised that he has made it this far. He was the pilot of the jet that tried to shoot us down as we were flying from France. He will do anything that Ambroise tells him to. For example, as far as I know that was his first time to ever fly a jet. His ability to rapidly adapt and throw caution to the wind makes him especially dangerous.
"Number Eleven. We call him The Hunter. We do not know his name, and he has no voice to tell us what it is, as he is a mute. He is a large black bear that specializes in devising and placing traps, but he very rarely does any fieldwork.
"Number Twelve: Drake Cassius." He turned to look at Carmelita. "He was also present during the destruction of Interpol HQ. He was our resident pyrotechnics experts, and has an interest in fire that extends to an almost sexual level. He is quick to act, and has a very short fuse when it comes to his temper… I have had the smattering of fur on my wings singed on multiple occasions thanks to a misplaced statement.
"Next up is me, Luc A. Gaud. I specialized in psychological warfare, and used fear tactics to get information from those that had it and to mentally cripple those who might get in my way.
"The next 2, Fourteen and Fifteen, I know not of. They were still being recruited at the time that I decided to call it quits." He looked around the room to see 7 sets of eyes staring at him intently. "There is 1 more," he continued. "Number Zero: Arcella Lione, the bitch of the bunch. She is the leader of the Numbers, and is second in command to Ambroise himself. She handles anything that she is given, and even leads specific missions on her own without Amby's permission or authorization. Mentally unstable, she regulates her disorder with a type of custom medication that has an astronomical price tag attached to it. You do not want to mess with her if you value your life at all." He readjusted the holster, and the pistol that it contained, underneath his wing and made his way to the couch. Sitting down with a small grunt of exertion, he crossed his legs. "I also assume that you wish to know why Ambroise has lived as long as he has?" He was answered by a bob of Sly's head. "Very well. It was well before my time, but I managed to unearth a good amount of information pertaining to the issue." The others remained silent. "You might want to grab a seat, this is one hell of a story…"