The whir of the chopper grew louder as it hovered next to the open back doors of the van. Penelope cut the engine as it touched down on the road's cobblestones.
She hopped out, stopped the rotor, and lifted it up. She took a quick look around to make sure the coast was still clear then re-entered the van.
The gang sat in the back cargo space, waiting for their chance to move.
"The rope and winch are in position," she reported.
Sly nodded and glanced at his watch. "Time to move. Rory, you're with me. Kent and Penelope, you get up front and be ready to drive if we need you. Now, let's go break into jail!"
With that he hopped out of the van and slipped around the corner of the building. The narrow street behind the station had very little traffic mid-morning but they'd donned utility worker uniforms just in case they were spotted. It would be enough of a disguise to make a casual observer look past them.
Sly made his way up the side of the building, going paw-over-paw along the rope and hooking his toes into the brickwork. Once on the roof, he anchored the winch — Penelope's chopper hadn't been able to do that, so she'd just looped the rope around a vent pipe a few times — so that Rory could follow him up.
The roof had a decorative dome lined up with the front edge, centered over the station's lobby. The rest of the rectangular roof was just a flat area dotted with antennas and vents.
Sly motioned to Rory. The walrus came over and Sly said quietly, "I want you to do me a favor while I scope out our entry. Keep an eye on the van for a minute."
"Kent?"
The raccoon nodded. "I'm still not sure about him. Let me know if he makes any suspicious moves or tries to drive off."
"Sure thing," Rory said, nodding. He stepped over near the edge of the roof and laid down on his stomach so that he could peek down over the gutter.
Sly went the other way, heading over to the access hatch. It was locked from the inside, probably due to building safety regulations rather than security concerns. Especially since there were exposed hinges on this side.
A moment later, Sly tucked the screwdriver back into his pocket and lifted the hatch up. He listened for a second and then lowered his head down to see into the hallway.
The hatch was at one end of a passage. Against the outer wall of the building, the side with the alley and their van, a metal access ladder was bolted to the wall. Looking down the hall, there were doors on either side. The one nearest, he was relieved to see, had the name "Thompson" on a nameplate. And, through the frosted glass pane in the door, he saw a shadow moving around.
Sly checked his watch. Any minute now. He kept an eye on that door. Then he saw the shadow get larger and the edges come into focus on the glass.
He pulled his head back up until he heard a few footsteps. Then he lowered himself through the hatch opening, hanging by his fingertips. Officer Thompson, in a spotless uniform that looked like it had had the creases pressed into it with a steamroller, was striding down the hall. Sly couldn't help but notice that one back pocket bulged.
He dropped lightly onto his feet and tiptoed forwards. He moved quickly, trying to catch up to the officer before he reached the central staircase at the corner of the hallway just ahead. Sly took long strides and timed his footsteps to match Thompson's so he couldn't hear him hurrying up behind him. Then he reached out and gently extracted a ring of keys.
Muffling them in his gloved paw, he turned on the spot and practically bounced back to the ladder. He climbed a few rungs until his head was through the hatch. He whistled and Rory looked over. Sly gave a wave and headed back down.
The hallway went past a few office doors and then turned a right angle to head toward the cells. The lobby stairway intersected the hall at that point and they could see the police working the desk below. Fortunately, no one looked up at that moment to see the raccoon and walrus creeping around the corner.
The hall ended at a reinforced door watched by a security camera. Thanks to Carmelita's hints, Sly knew he could safely ignore it. Curiously, Rory offered no comment on the obvious camera pointed in their direction.
Sly pulled out the ring of keys and began rapidly testing them in the lock.
"Where'd you get those?"
"Swiped them from Officer Thompson just now."
"Really? Thompson was here and I missed it?" asked Rory.
Sly thought he sounded vaguely disappointed, like he'd missed an opportunity. That was interesting information, too, and just about what Sly had expected.
There was a click from the lock as the bolt slid back and Sly's attention returned to the door. With a gentle tug, it swung open.
The cell block had a single central hallway heading off to their right. Thick bars ran floor to ceiling down each side, fronting the cells. Cinderblock walls separated the cells from each other.
"Close the door and watch through the window for a moment in case anyone heard anything," Sly said to Rory. "Then come down and catch up with me."
The walrus nodded and Sly dashed away down past the cells.
He skidded to a stop a moment later in front of a forlorn turtle sitting on a metal bunk.
Bentley looked up and his mouth dropped open in surprise.
"Guess what, Bentley? It's jailbreak time."
"Sly?"
The raccoon nodded patiently. "You were expecting Officer Thompson?"
"Yes, actually. He should be here any minute."
"I know. I've got to get you out quickly."
"What's the plan?"
Sly reached down to his leg pouch and felt inside for the small sphere he'd placed there last night. He pulled it out, keeping it hidden from view in case Rory was watching.
"Here, this is yours," Sly said, passing it to Bentley.
The turtle squinted down at the metal device. "Sly, what's the plan? I'm a little lost."
Just then, Sly could hear Rory's footsteps heading down the cell block toward them.
"No time to explain, bud," he said. "Keep that hidden. You'll know when to use it."
Sly straightened up as Rory approached.
"Looks like the coast's clear," the walrus reported. "Let's open the cells."
Sly crossed the wide central aisle to the cell opposite Bentley's. Inside was his cane, leaning against the back wall, and Bentley's souped-up wheelchair.
He pulled out the stolen keys and tried a few before he got the lock to click open. Then he turned and tossed the keys to Rory. "Here, get Bentley's cell open. I'll grab his chair."
For a moment, a surprised expression passed across Rory's face as he looked down at the ring of keys in his hand. Then it blossomed into a wicked smile.
Sly was inside the evidence cell, checking over Bentley's chair for damage, when the door clanged shut behind him.
