Monaco
It was the afternoon in scenic Monaco. The train station was busy, and Sly knew that unless he found the right train, he'd be looking for a specific needle in a stack of needles. He finally found the right train, a high-speed French bullet train. But Carmelita was nowhere to be seen. And then there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to be greeted by an embrace and kisses from you know whom. The two got into Sly's rental car and headed for the hotel. This place would be Sly's home until he finished his assignment.
"So chief sent you down here?" Sly said. He already knew the answer.
"Yes," she replied. "Though it seemed a little strange to be talking to him and not getting yelled at. I mean, for as long as I can remember, Chief had yelled at me when ever he was in a bad mood…"
"Which was always!" Sly said. "Oh, and I met with the chief of the local Interpol station. He's not any better, and he's a bit angry at the idea that his force isn't good enough to take on the Krakow Brothers…"
They pulled up to the hotel; two large seventy-story buildings separated by a large pool two stories up. Their room was on the sixtieth story. As soon as Carmelita had settled in; the room had its own kitchen and bedroom, Sly offered to sleep on the pullout couch, but Carmelita said no.
"I'm going out for some supplies," Carmelita said, leaving the room.
About fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Sly, thinking that it was Carmelita opened the door to find himself in a face off with his friends.
"Yo Sly!" Murray said, "We thought we'd drop by."
"We always vacation here annually," Bentley noted. "Remember?"
"Oh yeah!" Sly said. "I remember that one trip just before we started knocking over the Klaww Gang!"
"What happened?" Penelope asked.
And for over an hour or so, they talked, mostly about their adventures, especially the ones where everyone had made an ass of himself or herself. And then with a casual glance to the street below, Sly's panic button went off. Down below, he could see Carmelita entering the building.
"Oh hell!" Sly yelled. "You guys need to get out of here! Carmelita's coming up! She finds you here, it'll be all our asses rotting in prison!"
"Wait," Bentley said. "We came to give something to you."
Out of nowhere, Sly found himself holding his own cane. 'Boy it feels good to hold this thing again!' The gang left, and Sly realized he was still holding the cane. The doorknob was jerking the only thing he could do was stuff the cane behind the fridge; and not a moment too soon as Carmelita entered the room.
That night, the conspirers met. They were at another warehouse.
"So Monsieur McBride," Pierre Krakow said. "I believe this will make the perfect getaway vehicle…"
Suddenly, a massive blast door at the end of the room opened up to reveal a large helicopter. In fact, it was a very large helicopter. The fuselage alone could fit a bus. It also had Interpol markings.
"The latest in gyro-copter technology," Pierre said. "It can be manually controlled, remote controlled, or on auto pilot. Just plug in the coordinates, and let the machine do everything else."
"It's a fine machine," McBride said. "It's perfect."
"It is also standard in luxury," Jean Krakow said. "It has a main cabin, bunk beds, a mini bar, and its' own bathroom."
"Great!" McBride said. "As long as you keep up your end of the deal, I'll keep mine."
"As for moi," Pierre butted in. "I'll take care of Cooper; I'm into finishing what I started."
"Then it's settled," McBride grinned. "We start at tomorrow. I have some info that Interpol will kill for!"