Chapter 1: Finding a new feild man part 2: A little spat among friends.
The next few days, Bentley spent his time monitoring a number of wiretaps he had set up near Lynch's hangout. After two days of nothing, he was about to give up when he heard a door opened, followed by a loud crash.
"Where'd the gold go, Ronan?" Eoin said calmly. He could hear someone breathing heavily, and another crash. Someone screamed.
"I-I don't know, Eoin!" a scared and pained voice said. Obviously, they found out about the car, and Eoin was trying to get the story from Ronan.
Blocks away, Eoin stifled his laughter. They were staging this "interrogation" near one of the wiretaps. The taps weren't found right away, and if it weren't for Jacob's habbit to screw around, they'd never have been found.
"If you don't know," Eoin started. His voice was cooing, as though he were talking to a child. That made the scene a little bit more intimidating for Bentley back in the safehouse. "Why did you run away?"
"I..." Ronan croaked out expertly.
Eoin kicked the garbage can again, sending it clattering into a workbench loudly.
"Geeze..." Bentley muttered. These guys were psychotic!
Eoin was quiet now. "What D'you think, Jacob?"
"I think he's tellin' the truth." A third voice said.
"Yeah, me too. The story is so bloody stupid that it's probably true." Eoin said. "Clean him up an' get him to the Big Ten. I'll be there in a few minutes."
There was a short scuffling noise, then a door opening and closing.
"The Big Ten." Bentley said, swivling about in his chair and looking at Murray, who was playing some loud videogame. "Murray, I think it's time we make our approach."
Murray flinched, staring at the screen. "Aw, Bentley! You made me lose!"
"This is more important, Murray! Do you want Sly back, or not?"
"Hmm..." Murray frowned, setting the controller down and standing up. "Fine... I'll drive..."
The two made their way through Dublin's winding streets and to a pub known as the "Big Ten". They parked a block away and made their approach through alleys.
When they reached the door, Bentley pushed Murray forward. Murray gulped, took the handle, and pushed open the door.
The pub's lights were tuned down low. It had just opened for it's nightly rounds, so the place wasn't busy yet. A band had just started playing a particularly energetic song.
Bentley and Murray stepped in, standing out of the way and looking around for the grey wolf. He wasn't here.
The stage lit up, two male foxes --One arctic, one red-- approached the stage and took up positions on either side of a microphone.
The arctic fox began the song, a grin on his face. He was wearing loose black jeans, a white T-shirt, and a short black jacket that ended a few inches above his hips. He was a jumpy fellow.
"In the merry month of June from my home I started
left the girls of Taum nearly brokenhearted
saluted me father dear,
kissed me darling mother
drank a pint of beer,
my grief and tears to smother
then off to reap the corn,
leave where I was born
cut a stout blackthorn
to banish ghosts and goblin,
brand-new pair of brogues,
rattling o'er the bogs
frightening all the dogs
on the rocky road to Dublin.
1-2-3-4-5!
In Mullingar last night, I rested limbs so weary
started by daylight next morning bright and early
took a drop of the pure
to keep me heart from sinking
that's the Paddy's cure
when he's on the drinking
see the lassies smile,
laughing all the while
at me darling style,
would set your heart a-bubblin'
asked me was I hired,
wages I required
'til I was almost tired
of the rocky road to Dublin!"
They certainly were talented... Sing-screamers. Both foxes joined in for the quick chorus.
"1-2-3-4-5!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin, whack-fol-la-de-da!"
The red Fox took the mic now, his voice was a bit deeper than his friend's. The pub was now getting some customers
"In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
to be so soon deprived a view of that fine city
decided to take a stroll all among the quality
bundle, it was stole in that neat locality
something crossed my mind
when I looked behind
no bundle could I find
upon me stick a-wobblin'
crying for a rogue
said me connaught brogue
wasn't much in-vogue
on the rocky road to Dublin!"
Both foxes sang the chorus again. The red fox winked at a woman in the bar, paying the two strangers no attention.
"1-2-3-4-5!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin, whack-fol-la-de-da!"
The music eased out until it was quiet. The two foxes sang in unison again. A few seconds after they started, the music slowly came back in.
"From there I got away, me spirits never failing
landed on the quay just as the ship was sailing
captain at me roared,
said that no room had he
then I jumped aboard
a cabin found for Paddy
down among the pigs,
played some funny rigs,
danced some hearty jigs,
the water 'round me bubblin'
off to hollyhead
wished myself was dead
or better far instead
on the rocky road to Dublin!
"1-2-3-4-5!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin, whack-fol-la-de-da!"
The last verse split between the two foxes. First, the red, then the jumpy arctic.
"The boys in Liverpool, when we safely landed
called myself a fool, I could no longer stand it
blood began to boil, temper I was losing
poor old Erin's Isle
they began abusing."
The jumpy arctic took the mic from the stand and jumped onto a table near the two, half singing, half screaming. Irish music! Bentley thought. It sounded happy, but it made you want to beat someone up!
"hooray me soul, says I,
let the shellaillagh fly
some galway boys were nigh,
saw I was a-hobblin'
with a loud array,
they joined me in the fray
and soon we cleared the way
on the rocky road to Dublin!"
The red had wireless mic now, and had picked a Skye woman from the crowd and was doing a difficult looking jig with her. Guy's got grace.
Both men sang:
"1-2-3-4-5! Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin, whack-fol-la-de-da!
1-2-3-4-5! Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin, whack-fol-la-de-da!"
The song ended, and the Arctic fox took a deep bow, his tail flitting to-and-fro. The Red gave a friendly peck to the terrier woman and escorted her back to her seat.
"Enjoy the show, nackers?" A fairly familiar voice said. It was in the same tone that was used during the wiretap transmission.
Bentley nearly spilled from his wheelchair, and Murray froze.
"Uh..." Murray said, turning around. "Yeah! It was great...!" Murray said, smiling. He was definetly startled, but the song was pretty well done.
The grey wolf stood behind them, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing what Murray assumed to be his casual clothes. A pair of jeans, some hefty boots, and a rawhide jacket.
His cold, emotionless stare broke into a grin. "Good. They've been practicin' that bleedin' song fer a month, now." Eoin said, reaching out and patting Murray on the shoulder.
Bentley felt as though he was going to melt into a puddle in his chair. "So... You're not going to kill us?"
Eoin frowned a bit, looking up at Jacob and Ronan. "You hear that, boys? He thinks we're killers!"
Jacob laughed, walking to the bar and giving a motion to the waitress for five drinks. "We've yet T'kill someone, lads."
Murray sighed. "Good. I was worried there for a minute!"
"Ah, Y'break M'heart, lads." Eoin said. "Thinkin' I'm a killer an' all. I'm a thief, not a murderer!" Eoin and the others gathered around a nearby table. Bentley pulled up to it, and the others sat.
Soon, glasses were set infront of them.
"I jus' want T'clear up somethin'." Ronan said, looking at the two. "What the hell're you doin' in Dublin? This is our turf."
"Well." Bentley said. "I'm sure you all have heard about what happened to Sly."
Eoin raised an eyebrow. "So it's true? He's now "Constable Cooper"?"
Bentley nodded. "Yes. He faked amnesia so he could get close to Inspector Fox of Interpol."
Ronan slapped his thigh, taking a swig of his drink. "Oh, in me hole!" He said. "Cooper gave up his life O'crime T'get close T'her? He's got T'be plannin' somethin'!"
"No, he's really in love with her." Bentley said seriously. Ronan shook his head in disbelief.
"An' what did Y'need to try an' trick us, for?" Eoin said, leaning back casually and grinning. Checkmate.
Bentley's glasses slipped down his nose, and his eyebrows shot up. Murray choked on his drink. "You KNEW we were here!" Murray exclaimed.
"O'course, mate. Why D'you think we left the getaway car right infront of the bloody factory? We were givin' you the opportunity!" Eoin said, downing his glass.
"Cheers." Jacob and Ronan said, clinking their glasses.
Bentley cleared his throat. "Well played!" He said, very impressed.
"Thanks, boyo. Now. What can my humble lil' troupe do for yah?" Eoin asked, setting the chair back on all fours.
The light glinted off of Bentley's glasses, and he gave a knowing smirk. "I have a plan to get Sly back in the game, but I'm going to need the help of your... "Humble lil' troupe"."
Eoin grinned. "A free meetin' with constable Cooper? What do I have to do?"
"Rob the biggest bank in Britain in broad daylight." Bentley said.
Eoin gave a little smirk. "An' get the courageous constable and his lil' love interest on M'scent. I see."
Bentley nodded. Ronan looked up at Murray and jerked his thumb towards a dartboard. Murray grinned. Ronan elbowed Jacob, and the three got up and headed to the dartboard.
"And when they come after you, we'll distract Carmelita, and you'll talk some sense into Sly." Bentley said.
"Devious!" Eoin said, laughing. "What makes Y'think he'll listen to me?" Eoin said.
"You're basically in the same position that he was," Bentley said. "You're both the leaders of a gang. If you left those two for a girl, what would happen to them?"
Eoin looked at Ronan and Jacob. The two were egging Murray on, and cheering. He narrowed his eyes slightly and said in a more serious tone. "I don't know." He shook his head slightly, and his ears pressed back against his head.. "They'd probably forget how to feed themselves."
"Exactly." Bentley said. "You see why we need Sly back?"
"I get it." Eoin said. "You got some other motive, though, don'tcha?" Eoin asked, looking at the Turtle.
Bentley drummed his fingers against the wooden table, glancing about the pub, then back to Eoin. "Yes. I do."
Eoin cocked an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair again. "When're we leavin' for Britain?"
To Be Continued