NOTES- Sly Cooper and related characters are property of Sucker Punch. Macavity's based on a character own by Andrew Lloyd Webber and/or T.S. Eliot. Nee's characters are property of Nee. This was gonna be the longest chapter yet. Nee felt Nee had to cut it so as not to overload Nee's mind when Nee reread it. That what Nee get's for ruining a great city.
Also Nee would just like to make a shout out to all the great peeples who have reviewed Nee's story thus far. Thanks to Phantom of Les Miserables, AngelLadyG, Red Squirrel Writer and lala-ness. Your kind words make Nee smile a lot.
Ch4 - French Fried
The city of Paris was a blaze with noise and flame. The attack on Interpol had not been the only explosion of the evening. Dozens of bombs were going off all over the city, however all the follow explosions were not causing any real damage. They seemed to cause a lot more confusion than , the sort of confusion someone could disappear in.
Sly, Bentley and Murray had just stepped off the plane from Argentina, when the first bomb at Interpol went off. At first Murray had thought it was an earthquake but a quick talk from Bentley about the basics of tectonic plates put those fears to rest and sparked new ones. Knowing the racoon's face was well known to airport security, Bentley suggested they should get back to the hideout first, then find out what's going on.
The hippo and the turtle went to retrieve the van, which was on the cargo plane landing in ten minutes. The ever impulsive Sly took off on his own. A few years ago, when the gang had first touched down in France and found a good hideout, Sly had timed the run to and from the airport in case the gang ever had to escape without the van. With his friends it was a good forty five to an hour flat out, without them... it was twenty without breaking a sweat. Sly could cut across rooftops, slide on the powerlines and ghost through just about any of things in his way. By the time Bentley and Murray got back home, Cooper would have showered, eaten and found out what's happened to his city. 'No,No,No.' Sly reminded himself Paris wasn't his own private city, 'It's my playground!'
Of course, for Sly, life never ran smooth and the path home was no expection. When the crown prince of thieves reached the first rooftop, a few buildings away from the airport, he saw first-hand the cause of the shaking. His home! His playground was under attack! He didn't know how to react, he knew he should return to the hideout without delay, but there were innocent people who needed help...
"Come on Cooper! The Thievius Raccoonus told you there would be moments like this. It's just like Jolly Jack Cooper said, "If I wanted to save people, I wouldn't have become a pirate". The young thief sighed. His ears picked up the faint sound of someone screaming a street or two away. "Jolly Jack always was a jerk."
Police, fire and ambulance vehicles were heading every which way, so the small blue van went unnoticed as the two other members of the gang made their way home. As they navigated the still flaming streets, their concern for their friend grew. Normally when Sly went on ahead, he'd give them a call when he reach his destinationplayfully taunt his "slowpoke" gang, but on a night like this when they needed the van's phone to ring, nothing.
"Shouldn't we stop to help these civilians?"
"No, 'The Murray'. Sly told he meet us at HQ number seven, and that's where we going."
"A good soldier knows how to obey orders. A great soldier knows when to disobey them." The small shelled man just sat, staring at his normally less-than-brainy pal open-mouthed. "What? The Murray read it in one of his comic books."
"Errr... Yes. Yes, that's a true statement... But if Sly's gets home and we don't show, he'll worry like we are now. So if we get back and he's not there, we'll go and help."
"And if he's there?"
"You know Sly as well as I do. We'll all go and help."
"So we're going home, just to go out again."
"Just drive, 'The Murray'." Bentley was tired. No sleep on the plane, worrying about his friend and the city and to top it off Murray hadn't stopped with his superhero talk yet.
For the rest of the drive no one spoke. Both so lost in thought, the HQ at the train tracks seemed to appear in no time. It wasn't their biggest hideout, but it was their favourite and their first, despite being called number seven. Not bothering to hide the van, they just hopped out and unlocked the first carriage. All that greeted the pair was the stale air that occupied any home that was left for a week. As they turned to get back into the van, the master thief they'd spent childhood with was walking through the train compound's gate. His clothes covered in soot, some items of which were still smouldering and his legs wobbling. Murray ran over and was able to catch the racoon as his body finally rested.
A few energy drinks later, Sly was almost back to normal, Bentley was muttering (something about how it should take more than Poweraid to recover from mass exhaustion) and Murray was searching the news channels to see what terrorist group was causing this chaos.
"What a world we live in." Sly said tossing the eighth bottle of Poweraid in the bin.
"It wasn't terrorists." Both Murray and Cooper turned to the turtle, who was staring a hole thought his computer screen.
"Say what?"
"It wasn't terrorists. It was a distraction for a jail break."
"How'd you know that?"
"According this site, same thing happend ten years ago in Moscow when a young arms dealer called Iain Legend was arrested. Lots of noise and fire but little structural damage..."
"Little structural damage?"
"When you went in that building to save that girl, there was a lot of fire, yes?"
"Yeah." Cooper answered as if to add a 'so what'.
"But all the walls and floor stayed intact?"
"Yes."
"There's your little structural damage. They probably use a cheap Five-Ten fire bomb, designed to scare and scar, not kill. Probably the reason you're still with us."
"Okay, I get that, but what's the connection between Moscow and here?"
"Iain Legend belonged to a crime organisation known as DeadMan Inc. The same group run by Christopher James Macavity who records show was arrested by Interpol early today." Bentley didn't want to tell his racoon friend the next part. "In both incidents the criminals escaped in the mayhem and errr... hurt quite a few officers during the actual breakouts."
"It tell you who on the website?" Sly's feelings for one particular cop were well known by the three pals, as it was very often the conversation topic in the train yard.
"Only for Moscow I'm afraid. Don't worry, Sly. She'll still be in Buenos Aires cleaning up the mess there." The shelled one blinked and when he opened his eyes less than a second later, Cooper was on the other side of the hideout dialling the phone. "Sly what are you doing?"
"Making sure."
"They're not going to give out Inspector Fox's info to just anyone, Sly..." He was silenced when Sly started talking in broken English with a good Spanish accent.
"I. Mr. Fernando. Carmelita Fox's Uncle. No speak France, Can speak Spanish an' english. Thank you. Heard what. Happening. How Carmelita is?"
"This'll never work." Turning away from the impulsve racoon, Bentley started to think about what to do next.'Why did he know Carmelita's mother's maiden name?'
"Broussais Hospital." Sly slammed down the phone and made his way to the door.
"That worked! Wait! Sly where are you going?"
"Where do you think?" The normally calm and cool Cooper snapped at his friend. "Sorry, Bent."
"We know. You have feelings for Inspector Fox, mixed-up feelings sure but..."
"Whoa, stop right there. I've never said I had feelings for her. I... just... don't like anyone messing with my cop... I'm the one who does the messing." The Sly the genius knew and grew up with, was back in command and covering his true feelings, very badly.
"So you'll be wanting a lift to The Great Pretender Theatre, then?"
"Where?"
"The Great Pretender Theatre is where the man who Interpol thinks is Macavity is holed up."
"The man Interpol think... You gonna have to run that by me again."
"This is the tom who occupied a Interpol cell under the name Christopher James Macavity." The turtle span his computer monitor round so his fellow gang member could get a look at cellcam footage from the Interpol mainframe. Half a dozen clicks of the keyboard later and a portfolio shot of the same man appeared on screen. "And this is Henri Everett, little known French actor and owner of said theatre. He biggest part was a extra in the flop movie The Haunted Legion. A movie so bad, it made Plan 9 From Outer Space look good"
"Then what's Macavity's tie to a bad actor?"
"That's what you're going to find out, 'cause the only one who'd green light a breakout like this would be the big boss man himself. Murray!"
"That's 'THE Murray'." A voice called out from the other side of the big guy's seat.
"Okay, 'THE Murray', how's the state of the city?"
"All is well, civilian. The news says local authorities have everything under control, all the fires are out, the public are being cared for by the doctors and all law enforcement are gathered in front of a small theatre."
"Oh dear." Bentley sighed, 'Give him another reason to go there why don't cha, Murray.'
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get down there." A challenge would like that have been taken up even if Sly didn't have a vested interest in the target...