Hey everyone,
So, I deleted two story ideas, because they turned into fullfletched stories. This was originally Story Plan nine, but now it's plan 7 - and personally I love this one the most. This is one that, if it weren't for the 12 stories I write and post on a monthly basis, I would turn into a full story as well. However, I know my schedule is going to be pretty booked for the rest of the year, so maybe this will be something for 2019. Who knows, but I'd love to find out.
You as well,

Venquine1990

Plan #07
Surviving Coopers

Jacob's POV

It's been so long since the Italian Police informed me of a murder taking place in the house of my best of friends; a friend I made over the years that his little boy grew up; and still I remember all that I did on that day and in the following years with crystal clarity, mostly because I had always been blessed with a photographic memory.
It had been at an annual dance of the High Officers of Italy where I had heard over the Police Radio that there was a murder taking place and when I had heard the address that the High Officer had asked for, had I blanched and used all of my self-gained influence to demand of the officer that I come along on his arrest.
To then find out that the criminals had already fled by the time we had arrived and to find both of my friends death, with their only son stuck in a closet that was made of wooden bars through which he must have been able to see the event take place had torn my already broken heart to even more pieces than it could have ever had.

I had gotten Sly out of his closet, put his father's hat on his little head and told him to one of the officers that I trusted with my life that he was a special little fella and that the man better make sure he got somewhere he could be loved and held safe. The officer in question had fulfilled my request and I had taken to the funeral.
However, when we had arrived at the Hospital where the Police demanded of the staff to perform an autopsy on my friends, had the surgeon on duty refused this and had he pointed us to a bruise that both Coopers had to the side of their head, clearly indicating that they had been pushed into a coma before attacked for murder.
I had instantly shouted at the man to get the rest of his staff together and safe their lives if they could have been and while the man had been flustered that he had been arguing with a police man instead of doing his job, had Connor and Andrea lived to see another day; even if the same surgeon told us that they would probably never wake.
I had felt both relieved beyond words and devastated beyond hope to hear this news and I had made it my duty – as officer of the Italian C.I.A. Child and Family Services (just go with it, part of the story) – to find Sly and inform him of this. However, that determination never came to fruition and I was constantly hindered.

How? Every single person I ever send out to find the young Cooper Heir either ended up murdered with horrifying talon slashes all over his body or returned to HQ and reported the attack on his person before bleeding to death. This took me two months and afterwards, did I finally find out who attempted the murder.
The Fiendish Five; a terrible gang of misfits and criminals who are searched worldwide for all kinds of terrible crimes and misdeeds – including murder cases – and who somehow are able to work together, regardless of the fact that they all live in different parts of the country – and who apparently came together in Italy to seek out my friends.
I had been shocked and overwhelmed with the idea that the illustrious Clockwerk, the leader of the FF as the C.I.A. called them, was still in Italy and was actually killing my men. This made me fear for him finding out why I was searching for Sly and I decided on a plan B, a plan that I have been executing for the last decade.

I hid them. I hid Connor and Andrea on Mapels Island, a small island mostly covered in green nature and with some hollow mountains here and there, where the American C.I.A. allowed me to carve a perfectly small hospital wing out of one of the mountains and that was also located only a few miles away from Kaine Island.
Kaine Island had also been the whole reason I had chosen Mapels Island as Connor had told me of an amazing Ancestral Vault that was located here and where he had actually – when Sly turned ten – wanted to take his son to, due to an important ritual that was to take place at the tenth birthday of the eldest Cooper Heir.
It had torn at my heart to – on Sly's tenth birthday – look at my friends and that island and to know that little Sly Cooper would never commit to this ritual with his father, yet I had held one small sliver of hope; that Sly was still alive as I had kept in contact with the Italian Child Services and the Italian police, both for the same reason.
The two forces had been a little confused to have a C.I.A. Child Services member ask for their united aid, but they had been more than happy to comply with my single request; to make an extensive, united file about everything occurring in young Sly Cooper's life, so that – were his parents ever to wake – I could report it to them.

That had been 10 years ago and while I had kept my eye on Sly, his parents, Kaine Island and the FF, had I been amazed beyond words over the last year as I heard of how Sly – with help of two gang members and an actual Interpol Inspector – found, attacked and arrested four of the five members of the FF.
To then hear that he used that same team to not just attack, but actually destroy Clockwerk had brought tears to my eyes and once I had heard of him settling back in France had I instantly done what I had wanted to do ten years ago; I had packed everything I owned, bought myself a plane ticket and had flown off.

Off to France, off to Paris, off to the actual hide out of Sly Cooper, Master Thief and Heir to a fortune I doubt even he knows he has legal rights to. I had been shocked and slightly amused when I heard that it was just the Italian police that knew of the hideout's location and not the French Interpol, but had later dismissed that.
By now, I am lurking on the other side of the square shaped house that is apparently built on a raised up basement and has a small staircase leading to the front door with floor to ceiling windows covering all of the walls; this was definitely the last place anyone would search for a criminal and so the perfect hide out for a Cooper.
I feel a large smile adorn my face as I just know that Connor would have been over the moon with pride at seeing what a wondrous hideout his son had chosen, especially because it's so close to Interpol Headquarters that no one would ever think of it being stationed here and then whisper: "I'm going in."
And the two officers that led me here nod, neither of them carrying any weaponry as a further sign that none of us wish to cause any harm to those living across the street and I pass the street myself, careful to make sure I'm not seen until standing on the front porch and while searching for a doorbell, do I later decide to just knock.

Doing so, do I wait a few minutes and hear a fake-female voice ask: "Who is it?" And while I know that it's my skill as a C.I.A officer that makes me recognize the fake tone, do I mentally compliment the one on the other side of the door as his way of asking makes it sound as if he(she) is excited to have company come over.
Deciding to be honest, do I say: "My name is Jacob Anderson. I work for the Child and Family Service Department of the C.I.A. of Italy and I have information that will be more valuable than the treasures of Fort Knox to Sly Cooper. Can I come in?" To this I hear soft cursing and curious whispers coming from the other side of the door.
Then the same voice, this time clearly male, asks: "How did the C.I.A. find me? Not even Interpol can." To which I smile and say: "Interpol never thinks outside the box like I do; something your father taught me, Syl." And just by that one word, that one simple nickname, do I know that I have won the trust of the owner of the voice.

Yet this seems to be a little too hasty of a conclusion as the door only opens slightly and a single brown eye peaks through the gap as the same voice asks: "You knew my father?" And while I can see the distrust and pain clouding the dark brown color, do I keep myself calm and smile as I nod at the grown up little Coon.
"I did and I have news concerning them. I have been wanting to bring this news to you for years, but Clockwerk hindered me. He killed any and all of the men I send out to find you and because I didn't want this information falling into his claws did I wait for his demise. I heard that you took him down, so I took the first flight here available."
The brown eye stops getting clogged over with distrust and instead starts to shine with curiosity before it disappears for a short while and then, to my delight, does the door open and does a Raccoon that could have been Connor's twin had my best friend been twenty years younger, look at me imploringly as he says: "Come on in, alone."
And I can't help but smile in pride at this, feeling very elated that the Raccoon had already taken notice of the officers on the other side of the street. I give the two gents a thumb's up and while they motion back the same way and move over to their car to ride back to Headquarters, do I enter the Hideout of Sly Cooper.

There I see his team mates; the turtle named Bentley and the Hippo named Murray, both who have a wary look on their face, one I can understand as they have mostly been their eyes, ears and chauffeur during Sly's thieving years in the field, yet the Raccoon himself is my main priority and while carefully taking a seat, do I hear Sly ask:
"You said you had information?" I nod and the turtle asks: "Information that couldn't be caught by Clockwerk?" Another nod is my answer and the Hippo asks: "What is it?" To this I turn to Sly and ask: "Remember how, when your house got attacked, there was an otter that pulled you out of the closet and took you to the police?"
The Raccoon nods and I smile as I say: "That was me." Shocking everyone before I say: "I was there with the police when they found your parents and after I got the confirmation from the officer I left you with that you'd be taken well care off, did I leave with the other officers to see to your parents and their funeral."
At this Sly actually almost caves into the chair he was leaning against, while Murray and Bentley share a shocked look and I say: "I went with them to the Hospital and saw how the officer argued with the surgeon on call to give your parents an autopsy so they could have a cause of murder and go after the ones responsible."

"Why would the surgeon argue about that? Sounds like standard procedure to me." Bentley then says, while he had Murray had gone to sit down themselves and while wondering if the Raccoon besides me can handle this news, do I smile at the turtle sitting on my arm rest as I say: "He argued, because Sly's parents – were in coma."
And instantly Sly slides off his seat, his whole body limp with shock while Bentley jumps off of my arm rest, his arms and legs almost stretching themselves out of his shell as he screams: "WHAT?" And the shock affects the Hippo as well as he tumbles back, slips and makes the couch he sat on fall over with him landing on his head.

Well, ain't that a shocker.
So yeah, this story would have been the Sly Cooper version of "What if Harry Potter got his parents back/What if James and Lily survived Halloween"? Personally, I'm a little iffy with stories like that, though I do think that I brought out two pretty good ones. Also, yes Campbrina High was also good, but it was derived from To Read and To View, so it doesn't count.
Hope you enjoyed,

Venquine1990