Chapter 14

Fell like Rain

Author's note: Another chapter in our story, and along with it, another note of recognition. Thanks to my beta, IgnorantOne, he has helped me finish this update because my mind was reduced to jello from my medicine. Thank you IgnorantOne fro saving this chapter in my weakened state and thank you for the solid gold ideas. Alright, before I make his head swell up to the size of a watermelon, we both proudly present to you chapter 14 of this story. Enjoy.

The night was clear and beautiful. Many of the city lights were off at this hour, exposing the gleaming stars in the sky. A pair of crystal blue eyes gazed upon the endless sparkles of the dark void. The blue eyes blinked a few times before a pair of paws reached up and peeled off the colored contact lenses. Tom placed the colored lenses back into the carrying case, cleaning them off with the liquid that was given to him when he ordered the contacts.

"Perfect," he mused. He took a moment to glance through the lenses of the binoculars standing on the tripod by the window of his post. He noticed that Carmelita's window was closed, quite unlike her. But noticing the growth in police activity as well as Dorian Booker frequently coming in and out of the apartment building, he reassured himself that she was in capable hands, for the time being at least. "Now then," the jackal scratched his chin as he looked deeply at the picture of Indigo Blue clutched in his paw.

Glancing towards the small stand next to him, the looked at the photo, then back to the small bust where a rubber face mask was sitting on. He continued to add pieces of fur to match the white and black patterns of Indigo's face. Adding texture to the lips, the outline of the eyes, and the nose, Tom finished adding the small coverings of the eyelids to make the mask believable as possible. "At least I won't have to change my height or girth this time." Putting the last finishing touches, Tom cleared his throat and attempted to mimic the malamute's voice as best as possible from sheer memory.

"Ahem, well Scarlet, as much as I would like to kiss you, I'm afraid it would be similar as to kissing the millions of other men you twisted tongues with." Tom couldn't help but chuckle at himself, finding the change in his accent to be quite convincing. As he was putting everything away, his eyes grew big as he began to feel an icy chill run up his spine. Every hair began to stand on end and carry a tingling sensation on their tips. He breathed hurriedly, his chest heaving as he thought he could see the wisps of his own breath.

Yet it had to be at least seventy degrees outside, how could he possibly see his breath with the air being so warm? "Honey, could you shut the window? It's cold tonight." Tom's ears perked up to the familiar voice that materialized out of nowhere. Clutching his beating heart, he glanced around the darkened room of his post and saw nothing.

"It's your favorite, angel. I made it just for you; I gave you the tenderest cut. I hope it's cooked well enough, I know how you like you like it rare."

"Who is there?" Tom glanced around as he drew in deep breaths to ease his racing heart beat. He froze and slowly moved his head until he was staring at a beautiful female jackal smiling at him. He watched the woman smiling at him and clutching a purse in her paws, dressed in a beautiful and elegant dress.

"Glad to see you're finally dressed for the theater, love. Let's hurry before we're late."

"No, it can't be..." Tom stammered as his eyes began to grow moist. Rubbing his fists against his eyes, he blinked once more as he looked at the woman standing in front of him. "Annabelle," he gasped in a shaking voice. A tear slid down his cheek as he slowly reached out with his paw, watching as the woman offered her own to him. As their paws touched, Tom felt his insides crystallize with frost as his paw passed through the woman's, tendrils of smoke coiling around his fingers.

The visage of the female jackal began to fade as she disappeared in the form of floating grey smoke. "No, Annabelle, please don't leave! Annabelle!" Crashing to his knees, he slammed a fist on the ground and stared at the floor as it was dotted by his tears that fell like rain. "Annabelle..." he whispered, "Don't leave me again."

Glancing out of the window, a shadowy form caught his attention. Standing alone atop a building's rooftop, the body was consumed in a long flowing coat; the fabric still despite a slight breeze blowing. Peering into the lenses of his binoculars, the jackal only saw the snow white fabric and the figure's backside. The head of the person began to glance over his shoulder, until fully turning around and greeting the jackal with a light smile. The clean white fur of the albino weasel also didn't tousle in the wind, his entire body being immune to the breeze.

Tom slowly lowered his binoculars form his eyes as he quirked a brow at the strange animal. "She misses you," the icy voice of the weasel caused goosebumps to rise on the jackal's skin. "She wants to see you again." Every moment the weasel opened his mouth, tendrils of silvery smoke and mist flowed from between his teeth, spiraling above his head until it dissipated into the air. Pushing up the frameless glasses farther up his nose, the weasel's grin widened as Tom blinked in puzzlement.

As he reopened his eyes, he saw that the snow white animal was no where to be seen. Not a trace or even a small sight of him fleeing from the scene could be found. "What in God's name," Tom pondered out loud. He rubbed his eyes and lightly shook his head as he figured he simply needed rest. He could have sworn that the animal was real, despite the way he carried himself, and being completely unaffected by the blowing wind.

And the smoke flowing from his mouth, what was the reason for that? Tom didn't notice a cigarette clutched in the animal's paw, nor even catching the smell of tobacco smoke. "How very strange..." The view of Annabelle was still clear in his mind, her voice repeating the very words she once said many years ago.

"We're honestly going," Penelope placed her paws on her hips and quirked a brow. "We are going to go all the way to Siberia at this time of the year?"

"I told you," Bentley said as he pushed the brim of his glasses farther up his nose. "That's where Clockwerk is being constructed. It means a lot to us to finally put an end to him. Being a thief yourself, your career must have suffered because of him." The little white mouse glanced to her left in thought before crossing her arms.

"Perhaps I had to...change a few things around to avoid him, but I get the importance. But how exactly do we plan on traversing a barren snow storming strip of land without anywhere to take up residence, no supplies, no shelter, and no where to rest?"

"Well my dear," The turtle grinned as he adjusted his glasses, tapping a few keys on his wheelchair, a small screen and keyboard sliding out from a small recess in the arm rest; wire schematics of a Russian T-74 main battle tank flashing on the screen. "On our second Clockwerk escapade, we, ah…"acquired" a little gizmo from a 'criminal correction' facility in Prague."

His hands flew across the keyboard, custom software coming online and executing the turtle's every command; the T-74 schematics being pulled apart piece by piece before being slowly built back up. Bentley grinned, turning his head towards Penelope; the gold wire schematics reflecting off of his thick glasses. "As much as I'd like to keep the tank the way it is…well," Bentley adjusted his glasses, the turtle pausing before he raised his hand above his head, "they say that necessity is the mother of invention!"

The turtle tapped a few more keys, wire models of equipment slowly attaching themselves to the modified hull of the heavily armored vehicle; its overall length increasing and its body widening. "You see, we gut this little beauty, take out everything….even the engine, we need something less beefy and more efficient…preferably three smaller engines working in tandem. We also need to remove the blocky fuel tank in the back and have a fuel tank that lines the inside of the hull. We'll also get some tank parts from a couple of contacts who work in a Czechoslovakia Military Scrap yard… He has a few…'second hand' T-74 hulls that should give us enough parts we need."

Bentley continued to make his plans, extending the hull by fusing the tanks hulls end to end; the turtle wanting to cut the hulls in order to make them mesh together. The new proposed fuel tank was to line all three hulls to cut back on space needed, add more room for better insulation, and allow the Cooper gang to add bunks including room for all of Bentley's equipment. "So you see, we extend the tank's dimensions, which will allow us to have three separate, smaller engines which will allow us to have the torque, and power we need to make it up even forty-seven degree inclines!"

The turtle grinned and typed away for a few more moments before a few more schematics slid across the screen to link up. "I'm going to add more insulation between the armor plating to make it so we don't have to expend so much energy on heating and we can put the excess into batteries incase the engines freeze…but they shouldn't with this new engine because a fellow technological compatriot and I are working on!" He beamed proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Penelope leaned over his shoulder to look at the specs. "Impressive," the mouse said as she raised her paw, "But logistics where this designs lack. There will be enough space from the looks of it for stacked bunks, a few days food and water…you're equipment takes up nearly thirty-three percent of our space and…" She eyed a good-sized open space the size of a large motorcycle, "And what is this? This shortens our capabilities."

Bentley looked at her before he adjusted his glasses. "That is where we will store the snow mobile. We'll want it for when we start getting closer towards the 'Colonel's' operation. Besides, any incline the snow mobile can make it up, theoretically, my "ATV" can make it up thanks to my genius and your craftsmanship."

"It has a name? 'ATV' as in 'All Terrain Vehicle'?" The short mouse asked; her eyebrow arching as she crossed her arms over her blue jean overalls.

"Of course not Penelope, It means "Arctic Traversarial Vehicle"…the length of this vehicle would make it impossible to traverse all terrains. This version is dedicated to surviving and navigating the rigorous Arctic Circle." Bentley stated matter-of-factly, re-adjusting his glasses.

"In fact, I am trying to get some parts to retro-fit your RC car and chopper for intense cold weather…an eye in the sky could be a great asset, especially if we can attach a camera and a military grade global positioning system." The turtle said as his fingers returned to his keyboard. "But I encountered a problem…there isn't enough room here for all of the equipment we need, so I designed two heated trailers to attach to my ATV. One for our food, which it should hold up to three weeks worth if Murray can curb his appetite if a life or death situation should occur…but if I can get my hands on some MREs, then we can double the amount of food we can carry."

The wire schematics shifted to the left as two streamlined tracked trailers assembled into view, one was smaller than the other, external heating units directed to pump warm air into the food cabin. The other was larger than the first, and it had a long, insulated black hose that ran to the fuel line. "I solved our fuel storage problem by creating this fuel trailer," he pointed out to the second trailer and the small screen enlarged the wire model, "The entire fuselage will be double insulated and will be lined with warming wires to prevent the fuel from freezing. For aerodynamic purposes, I rounded it so that it will flow through the disturbed air that the ATV and the food trailer will create. It will carry about five hundred gallons…so that should give us a range of one thousand two hundred miles…that is if I can get the engines I want. They have power and torque…and with a little of our combined handiwork…better fuel efficiency by twenty-nine percent!"

Penelope raised her brows and grinned. Seeing as Bentley had a rather solid plan of traversing the frozen wasteland, her fears and doubts were tossed to the wind. Perhaps they would find this hidden factory where they were constructing Clockwerk after all.

Silently, the two figures crept across the rooftop, the larger of the forms clutching the paw of the smaller of the duo. With the larger form leading, the two scampered across the roof until they hugged against one another and they both leapt across towards the next roof. Carmelita watched with excitement as Sly continued to lead her by pulling on her paw, wrapping around him as he jumped great distances and slid down the poles of street lamps. Slinking into the dark shadows of an alley, Carmelita slowly pushed off the raccoon as she lightly laughed, unwrapping herself from him. Sly chuckled along with her as they both stopped and gazed at one another for a moment.

The apartment complex was across the street from their hiding spot, each one looking to their left to see the inviting glow of the outside lights near the glass doors. "I guess it's time to say goodbye again, huh?" Sly's ears dropped as he clutched his blue cap and tightened his grip on it. Carmelita placed a paw on his and leaned up to plant a kiss on his forehead, rubbing the side of his face as she slid her palm down the side of his neck.

"I'll see you again, don't worry."

"I see you've forgiven me. I was getting worried that you would never let me live it down."

"Oh trust me," she said, placing the tip of her finger on the cold tip of his nose. "I'll never forget what you did to me." Sly slowly began to curve his mouth down into a frown. "But that doesn't mean I won't forgive you for it." Planting another light kiss onto his lips, she patted the side of his muzzle and shooed him away. "Now scram, there's cops crawling all over the place."

"Why Carmelita," Sly quirked a brow and gave a wide smirk. "Are you protecting me from being thrown into a cell? Yet another out of character display. You always seem to surprise me, hon."

"No, I just don't want you to slip up and get yourself caught by them...you are my criminal, I'll be the one to slap the cuffs on you." Bowing down, Sly placed his hat over his heart and made a graceful gesture with his paw as he blew a kiss to the departing vixen. Scaling the brick wall, he jumped onto the roof and looked over the edge, standing on the edge of the roof and squatting on the tips of his toes as he waved goodbye towards Carmelita. She returned the gesture as she turned around and pushed open the door and disappearing into the building. Slowly opening her door, she quickly turned around and closed it as she entered her apartment.

Stepping into her room, she caught a strange smell that blew into her face. Glancing down at the floor, she couldn't help but chuckle at the two plates of lasagna that sat on the floor, peacefully undisturbed. Dorian must have been in such a hurry that he had forgotten the food. Picking up both plates, she scrapped the cheesy tomato sauce drenched pasta into the trash bin and stacked the plates into the sink. She froze as she heard the sound of keys sliding into the lock and the doorknob of her apartment door began to turn.

Dorian slowly pushed open the door, looking tired and defeated as he lazily hung his head and gave a hissing sigh from his mouth. His ears twitched and his nose tingled as he quickly shot his head up and stared towards the orange fox that stood in front of him. "Carmelita," he gasped. Lunging forward, he wrapped his arms around her form and gave a crushing hug. "Where the hell have you been? I was worried out of my mind about you! I thought you would have been hurt, or worse!"

"Dorian," she groaned as she wormed her way out of his embrace. "I'm fine. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself, and I don't need a bodyguard."

"Still, I was just worried for you. I don't want to see you get killed." Placing his paws on her shoulders, he pulled off Carmelita's jacket and hung it on the hook by the door for her. His nose tingled as an unfamiliar scent wafted up to his nostrils. Sniffing her jacket, he found that the scent was coming from the leather fabric.

"That smell," Dorian whispered as he looked back to see Carmelita walking to her room. Narrowing his eyes, he hung the jacket up and walked behind Carmelita. "So, where have you been," he asked with false innocence. "You were gone for quite awhile."

"Look, I'm sorry I brought you into a choke hold and made you black out. But if I didn't get out of here, I would have gone crazy. I was a prisoner in my own apartment, Dorian. Please try to understand."

"Oh I sympathize for you. I'm not one for being locked up and pushed into the corner like you were. But you could have given me a warning." Glancing away, he rubbed the back of his neck and drew in a breath, his vertical irises shrinking to thin slivers. The scent came to him and assaulted his sense of smell once more. "Carmelita," The fox turned around as she heard her name.

"Yes?"

"You didn't answer my question. Where were you?" The stern tone of his voice caused the vixen to firmly plant her feet on the floor and narrow her gaze.

"I went out."

"Carmelita," Dorian took a step forward, leaning his head towards the fox and sniffing around the fur of her neck and face. She withdrew back and quirked her brows in puzzlement.

"Are you...smelling me?"

"That scent," Dorian said as he tried to take in Carmelita's smell once more. "I don't recognize that smell. I know the scent of every officer in Interpol, and no one would get that close to you to leave a scent that powerful on your body. If it wasn't another officer...and I'm positive it wasn't some pedestrian...it had to be only one other person."

"Enough," Carmelita snapped as she pushed Dorian's snout away from her. He snorted and rubbed his nose as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"You were with Cooper tonight, weren't you?" Carmelita's mouth became dry as cotton as her heart climbed up her throat. "He isn't the only one who loves you." Carmelita swallowed hard to push down the beating heart that she thought would jump from her mouth.

"W-what did you just say?" Standing still, Dorian walked towards the vixen and gently cupped her cheeks.

"He's not the only one that loves you, Carmelita." The vixen attempted to speak, but her jaw was unresponsive, the helpless lower half of her mouth stayed shut. "I mean, I don't see why you still go to him, he left you in the middle of the night. He left without a word, not telling you where he was going, what he was doing, or why he even left in the first place." Pausing, the feline allowed his words to sink into the vixen so that she could comprehend what he was saying to her.

"Carmelita...he left you. Sly Cooper abandoned you. He lied to you for nearly a year until he left to become a thief once again, stealing from all over the world. Now ask yourself, how many times has he done something like this to you? How many times has he lied to you and played you for a fool, embarrassing you in front of your fellow officers? That time in America, the Karakcov Volcano, India, Canada, Paris, Australia? And now, after an entire year, he was leading you by your nose until he got bored and decided to return to his old tricks."

Carmelita shook her head, shrugging off any thoughts that what Dorian said was true. "That's false."

"Is it?" Dorian questioned. "Would it be out of character for a thief to do whatever it takes for them to get what they desire? You have to admit, whenever he is within your grasp, he always manages to charm his way out and slip through your fingers." Stepping back, he turned around and stared out the window, the curtains pulled back to reveal the dark city streets. "Besides...what if he is behind all of this?"

Carmelita immediately retorted, finding her voice and using it to great effect. "What, how could you even think of such things?!"

"How," Dorian snapped his head back to stare at the vixen. "Because the attempts on your life didn't start until after Cooper left! You've had more attempts on your life in three months then most crime bosses do in their entire careers! Think about it, what if he joined Interpol to learn all about us from the inside out? Our information gathering techniques, patrol patterns, operation patterns, our chain of command...maybe even obtain pertinent and valuable information that only Interpol officers have access to!"

The feline stopped and drew in a breath before continuing. "It could be him. He could be the guy trying to knock you off." Carmelita shook her head, tousling her ebony curls.

"No, that isn't true. The one trying to kill me is known as 'The Colonel'. It isn't Sly, it can't be."

"How do you know that Sly isn't this 'Colonel' person? His profile says that he is a master of disguise and deception, hell he fooled all of Interpol, even you for an entire year!"

"Stop it! This is absurd, Dorian!"

"Funny, Interpol thought the same thing about Danny Falcony...and yet his crazy plot worked. Now he's sitting in Spain with a mansion on a hill, untold millions of dollars in a Swiss bank, and no one can touch him."

"Falcony? That criminal? That cold blooded falcon was a fluke," Carmelita snapped. "No one expected him to hire an assassin to try and kill him just so he could throw off our suspicions! And Sly said a woman tried to seduce and kill him...an agent of the Colonel's. So it can't possibly be him."

"Of course Falcony was a fluke...but… how do we know his story is even true? He could have slept with this woman for all you know. And if she was working for him, it wouldn't be all that farfetched for her to make it look like she tried to kill him. Dammit Carmelita, Sly Cooper could have a woman stashed in every major city in the world, and you would have no knowledge of any of it, would you?"

Carmelita remained silent, frozen in mild shock. With every sentence he spoke, Dorian made a point flawlessly. "Besides...you don't even know the guy."

"Yes I do-

"No, you don't," the ocelot interrupted. "You only know his speech patterns and attitude from your run-ins around the world. And for that one year you two lived together...it could have all been just one big joke to lure you in and make you believe."

"That's not how Sly Cooper operates."

"That sounds very familiar…" Dorian said, scratching his chin in an exaggerated manner, then his eyes opened wide and he snapped his fingers; looking like he had a light bulb come on over his head, "Now I remember! That's the same thing they said about the Zodiac killer out in the States. No one would have expected an old man to be a cold blooded killer, and yet he surprised them." The vixen barred her teeth and flattened her ears in a display of pure feral rage.

"Sly Cooper is not a killer."

"But he is a criminal. It's funny how things happen when criminals get backed into a corner. A purse snatcher unconsciously switches from a thief to a killer with the squeeze of trigger…all because he was being chased. A motorist with road rage causes the deaths of others because the police corner him; ramming his pick-up truck into a family van as he careens through an intersection. Cooper could have been running this operation running from the start, and when we started getting close to uncovering his operation, he decides that you are too much of a risk and tries to have you eliminated. It's just like that Japanese proverb, when pushed into a corner, the rat will bite the cat. "

Carmelita shook her head, not wanting to believe anything he was saying as she began to walk away. "You're wrong."

"Alright, what if I am wrong? What if Cooper is just as much a victim as you or me? Maybe he's really a nice guy with just a bad habit. But once things blow over...once all this is said and down and it's all in the past and you two are living together again," Dorian glanced away as he took a deep breath and then finally let it out. "What's to stop him from leaving you a second time?"

Carmelita froze again. Somewhere far away she could hear the ear splitting crack of her heart being smashed by a sledge hammer. She didn't want to believe it; she didn't want it to be true. She just wanted to wake up and find out it was all a dream. But it wasn't a dream. The ocelot slowly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace, pulling her closer to him.

"I'm here for you, Carmelita. I would never hurt you...I feel for you like I feel for no one else in this world. I would never leave you." Carmelita simply stood there, not responding as she stared out into space. Dorian continued to hold her and she was stiff as a stone figure.

Placing her paws onto his chest, Carmelita slowly pushed herself away from Dorian and continued not making eye contact with the feline. Dorian frowned and sighed as he held out his arms to her. "It's ok, Carmelita. I know this might all come as a shock to you, but I'll be here for you when you-

Carmelita buried her fist deep into the feline's stomach and forced all the air out of his lungs. He gagged and doubled over, crashing to his knees and clutching his mid section. Carmelita simply walked past him and closed the door behind her. Leaning her forehead against the cold wooden surface of her bedroom door, she could hear the painful grunts as Dorian carried himself off the floor. "I understand that you're angry at me," Dorian's voice came from the other side of the door.

His voice was short of breath as he sucked in air hurriedly. "But you'll look back on this and thank me for showing you what Cooper could really be made of. I'm…sorry I had to say those things to you…but…better the heartache now rather than waking up to an empty bed and a short, little blue note. I'm sorry Carmelita…but just think about what I have said. I'll always be here for you..." His rasping breaths faded as he walked away, grunting as he clutched his stomach. Carmelita slowly blinked as she felt a few tears roll off her face.

The glowing moonlight cast the lone figure standing on the rooftop of the apartment complex. The white coat enveloped his entire form as his clean white fur gave off an ethereal glow. "Such sadness," the white weasel spoke, his voice sounding like something not of this world as it seemed to come from nowhere and echo out to all directions. "The poor child...her heart has been split in two. Yes...poor child." The coils of smoke bellowed from his mouth whenever he opened it to speak, two small streams of mist continuously slithered from his nostrils.

Slowly turning his head, he glanced up a few inches as if staring at an unseen person standing next to him. "What is this? I see...I will help you then. The reason I was given these gifts is so that they could be used to help those like you. Yes...those like you."

Carmelita sighs as she brings her forehead away from the door and slowly turned toward her bed. Freezing in place, her heart skips a beat as she sees a very handsome wolf sitting on her bedside, a can of ginger ale clutched in one paw and a first year police academy text book in the other. Carmelita couldn't believe her eyes; the grinning wolf's smile grows as she rubs her eyes. "Are you ready to study, Carmelita? You have a big test tomorrow."

Carmelita blinks again, watching as the wolf offers the can of ginger ale to her. "Want some?" Stanford Hesson, the same man Carmelita met during her first year at the police academy sat on her bed; reciting the very words he said years before Carmelita ever became an Inspector for Interpol. The wolf was probably her closest friend during her time at the academy, helping her study and become the strong woman she was today. His black and white views of the world were what inspired her during her career as an officer, yet his sweet, carefree smile melted her heart, much like a certain cunning raccoon.

Blinking again, she reaches forward with her paw to touch his outstretched palm. Her paw passes through his, her body becoming cold and stiff as his paw dissipates into smoke along with the rest of his body. He disappears in a wisp of mist until he is completely gone. The memories of when she first entered the academy flooded her mind. Entering the academy with nothing...and then there was Stan.

Stanford, the wolf who hailed from Alaska was starting his final year. Looking for help, Carmelita was partnered with Stan who helped tutor her into becoming one of the top graduates of the academy three years later. Such a nice man he was, so caring and kind. Carmelita couldn't help but be drawn to him, her feelings for him growing day after day. He of course treated her like a little sister, not seeing how she truly felt for him until quite some time later.

He was a great man with morals and values. Dreams and accomplishments that made him one of the greatest officers to ever graduate from that academy, until all that was taken away from him. A high speed pursuit left his patrol car completely destroyed; his partner had pulled him from the wreckage where he died before the ambulances could arrive. His partner, Inspector Barkley had arranged for the funeral for the hero cop. A photograph of Stan sat surrounded by a circle of flowers and the coffin that had the Alaskan flag draped over the casket.

Carmelita stepped forward, picking up the fallen officer's mantel and silently vowed that she would hold his black and white views of the law in the field against crime for her entire career. Carmelita focused back to reality, grasping the open space where Stan once sat, hoping to clutch something that wasn't there. Another tear rolled off her cheek as she breathed a sigh, gasping as she could see her breath despite the warm, humid night air.