Sly Cooper fanfic12


Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...

Sequel to Cache Raid...


Untold Chronicles...

Lockout


The Blue Viper helicopter took the sky once again, and was plotting its destination away from Howlers' Island, and to their own leader, who was patiently awaiting their arrival for the Clockwerk schematics. The boss on the chopper, with the datacube in hand, smiled underneath his mask. Soon a new world order, or whatever it was that their employers wanted with this cube, would soon be achieved. Meaning there was going to be a handsome bonus in it for him and his associates on the pick-up job.

Without warning, a loud, deafening bang! emitted, and the chopper began to shift and sway from one direction to the other, as if it was losing its hold in the air. The warning sirens, which directed everyone to brass for impact, was never heard, for they all had lost their ability to hear anything anymore. And there was nothing they could to as the helicopter finally lost altitude and began to dive down and crash into the woods.

At the factory's arms system, through the optimizer and targeting system, Arpeggio would have smiled if he had lips. Now that he had become the new administrator of the complex facility, he had control over everything. The combat androids, the containment locks and doors, and including the surface-to-air missle launchers, the first thing he needed to assure was that the formula and schematics never fell into the wrong hands. So he shot the chopper out of the sky. Now that that was over with, he needed to assure the safety of the others.


They did nothing but watch the werewolves howl and whine as they practically scratched their own fur coats off, trying to free themselves of the untold itchy insects that had swarmed them. There was no escape from the invasion of these super intelligent ants, that they could progress and accept, but confused at what motives or reasons they had for assault them. Even Penelope, among everyone else, was bewildered and dumbstruck by this behavior. Why it only attacked the creatures, and why it didn't even take a second glance at they themselves, was utterly cryptic, perhaps Freddy, the dimwit of a rodent, might have made allies with them. It seemed like a stupid conclusion to jump to, but what else could she use to make a hypothesis to this mystery?

Abruptly, the entrance blast doors of the secondary station right behind them opened up, they spun around to find a squad of combat androids, all armed with tranquilizer launchers. They all lifted their guard, ready to fight them if need be, but were struck with confusion as they watched the robots sprint pass the group and take aim at the creatures.

They watched as syringe darts, one at a time, were launched from their tranq-rifles and shot at the werewolves. Each of the dogs were pierced in the skin by a single dart, the chemical within the syringe was injected within their bloodstreams. Bit by bit, the creatures all began to look more sluggish and tired, as if worn out after a long, nightmarish year of endless hunting, and began to slump to the ground. The ants completed covered their bodies, until none of the thieves or androids could seem them anymore.

"Wait!" Penelope began to protest, worried of the citizens that were only victim to being the monsters they were. "Freddy, don't kill them..."

"If you say-so," the rodent replied, and pushed past the line of androids to began to wave his hands at the insects, "Okay, hey! You can stop it now... That'll do!... You can release them all now, they surrender!"

Amazed, all the other pirates' and thieves' mouthes dropped as the insects complied with the possum's request and began to break away from the werewolves.

"What'da hell?" Fitz said, glancing between Freddy and the ants, "Dey really understand a word yuh say and comply wit it?"

"Yeah, isn't the colony great?" Replied Freddy with a big grin on his face.

They turned back and watched as the ants cleared the creatures, only to find that they were not longer the Folklore monsters they were before, but simple canine people. They were all men and women, now lying helpless and unconscious on the ground, completely emptied of their werewolf features. They were all cured.

Penelope looked over to the androids now, all of which were armed with tranq-rifles. Before they were armed with plasma weapons and tried to capture, and even kill them. Why were they suddenly holding tranquility launchers, loaded with what she believed was the antidote? Were they on their side now? She wanted answers and she wanted them now, but unfortunately, she was going to have to wait for them to arrive. Obviously, someone is surely their ally.


Sly, Bentley and Adams stood ready for the laser cage to deactivate, ready to take on these werewolves and, if they were defeated, just meet their fate and be done with it already. The monsters circled and rotated around the cage, locking their eyes, gazing and hungry, with their prey. Why couldn't Noah just get this over with, already? She should just stop taunting them with circling creatures and delaying the world of pain that they were about to endure.

Without warning, four other blast doors slid open and at least twenty combat androids appeared with tranq-rifles. Before the creatures could all turn to face them, every last one of them was pelted with syringes, the antidote injected in all of the creatures, and they all slumped to the floor.

Before their eyes, the menacing features, the dark fur, the teeth and claws all retracted and vanished. Soon all they found lying on the white-tiled floor were bodies of unconscious and unfortunate subjects in the weapons program.

After wards, the laser cage disappeared, and they all cautiously stepped forward, keeping their guard up when around the now motionless androids. Adams kept his shotgun leveled and pointed, in case even one of them tried anything funny.

"Well Bentley, what do you think of this?" Sly asked, as he and his friend, still strapped to his back, looked down to the normal form of a dog.

"If I had to guess, I'd say they've been cured of the werewolf formula..."

"Yeah... but how?"

"That would be my doing," Arpeggio answered, his blue eye appeared on a overhead screen. "I do apologize for not seeming as much aid in the past hours when I was needed, but I had some things to relieve myself of."

"Okay Arpeggio, no more secrets and no more games," the raccoon warned him, "Now what is all of this about?"

"Do not worry, Mr. Cooper, I will explain myself, but there is one more thing I must do at the moment. If you just follow down this corridor you will reach the laboratory where dear Neyla is being held."

"Before we do, tell us exactly what it is you're really doing at the moment." Bentley demanded.

"Why, rescuing your friend, Mr. Wilson, of course..."


Speaking of Wilson, the cougar dodged another swipe of the werewolf's strike, leaping over to the side and tried to reach for his SMG or flamethrower. But he couldn't even get close enough to them--the monster saw to that. With one misstep of an avoiding maneuver, the Sergeant ended up caught by the throat, as the creature held him off his feet and examined him close up.

It growled and bared its teeth, and barked at its captured prey. Wilson did nothing more than close his eyes, and allowed only one thought to cross his mind. The name of his love, whom he felt as if he had failed; Neyla.

"Excuse me," called a familiar voice. The werewolf turned its head, the cougar opened an eye, and spotted the same, so-called "helpful" android, armed with a tranq-launcher attached to his wrist. "That will be all Mister Sawyer, I have found a loophole in your contract."

Sawyer?--Johnny? The werewolf barked and tossed the Sergeant against the wall, and then started for the machine. However, before it could make it past one step, a dart punctured its shoulder, and it immediately fell to the floor. The last incarcerated beast had been cured.

All the while, Wilson felt cold suddenly, strangely. He placed a weak, shaking hand on the back of his head and felt some wet, thick liquid. He feared the worst. He withdrew his hand and studied it with half closed eyes. His hand was blood-stained, and before he could process another thought, he blacked out.


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