Chapter 30

Back at Holding Cell 301-A, Interpol Paris Headquarters…

Keiko Zuikawa serenely smiled as she sat upon the hard, uncomfortable fold-out bunk inside her cell, drinking a paper cup of cool water her guard had given her a moment ago. Already, the highly intelligent, lovely, yet cold leopardess' mind was at work…formulating the means to achieve to her ultimate goal: her freedom. Freedom from both incarceration at Interpol just now…as well as from the impossible yoke she knew her father intended to bridle her with.

However, much as Keiko might be a master planner…she knew the odds were now heavily stacked against her. Very heavily indeed. After all, had she not been apprehended with all the necessary information to indict her for the crime she had committed? Alas, she had. Means, method, and motive…the three things any professional prosecutor needed to send her away on a lengthy stay in some hellish maximum security penitentiary. Means? All documented on that wretched compact disc she'd been caught with. Method? Alas, that too had been well-documented on the disc...her sketches---past and present---as well as her cleverly constructed website was all on there…as well as the counterfeit Lamborghini thrown into the mix. And, last but scarcely least, was motive…her damning confession of guilt was all but iron-clad proof of that.

Keiko heaved a soft sigh of acceptance, though that did not mean she had given up, and was prepared to accept her fate. Heavens no! Keiko was a most resourceful woman, after all, was she not? Of course! Keiko grinned a moment later as the means for easing her pretty little head from the rapidly tightening noose of her own construction occurred to her. Hai! I know precisely what to do, Keiko told herself, and sitting herself up straight and proud, she set it into action.

"Guard…dozo?" Keiko called out, knowing she demeaned herself by asking for help from these foreigners. But, that she could accept. "Please, Constable? Could you please come here?" She gazed over to the big strapping Polish elk constable who even now stood guard outside her cell. The big quiet man arrived, disapproval and distrust etched into his plain face. Keiko smiled, figuring that at best, she might be able to achieve her freedom…at worst, if she were going to spend time in prison, she would most surely make sure she brought along some fitting company. Keiko unleashed all of her wiles on her stern guardian. "May I make my one phone call now, please?" she inquired in a soft congenial tone she ordinarily used to wheedle concessions from business associates.

"I'll ask, Miss," Constable Dombrowski replied, frowning. "I'll have to ask Captain Connelly. One moment." The big, wide-shouldered elk turned and left her alone again in her cell.

This had better work, Keiko told herself, mentally girding herself for the contest of wills she was about to begin.

Constable Dombrowski returned---thankfully!---in five minutes, still frowning, but a bit less so now. "Your request was cleared with the Captain," he informed his charge. "Stand up, and move back against the rear wall…now."

"Hai," Keiko said demurely, bowing to the big man, doing exactly as he instructed her to. She watched through slitted lids as the elk fellow worked the code-encrypted key in the cell's lock. A moment later, the door beeped softly, then Keiko heard the dull clunk of the lock disengaging.

Dombrowski reached behind his back to the holster where he held his handcuffs, and withdrew the chromed cuffs, holding them loosely in his big hands just before he slide the cell door aside, and moved inside. He frowned at the oddly diminutive and for-the-moment demure Japanese detainee. "No funny business now, understand?" he instructed Keiko gruffly. "Hold your arms up, straight out in front of yourself, wrists close together."

"Of course, Constable," Keiko replied, bowing her head, and lifting her attractive slender arms up to duplicate the stance Dombrowski had ordered.

Constable Stanislaw Dombrowski eyed the leopardess with wary caution, as he expertly looped one metal cuff over her slight wrist and snapped it closed, then cinched it tight---but not too tight. He did the same for her other wrist, then looked down at her. "Is that comfortable, Miss?" he asked, gruff but solicitously.

"It is fine, thank you," Keiko answered, just a bit absent-mindedly…after all, her mind was racing as she planned and plotted her newest game. A very high-stakes game at that, she told herself. "Might I make my call now?"

The Polish constable nodded, then wrapped his big hand to the small length of plastic-sheathed twisted cable that connected the cuffs. He gently pulled on them, leading Keiko out of her cell. "Come this way, please…"

Dombrowski led the oddly quiet leopardess through the holding area, waited a moment to be processed through a check point, then led Keiko to where a bank of some ten telephones hung on the concrete wall. Beneath the phones was a narrow but long table that spanned all the way from the leftmost phone to the rightmost. Ten rather battered wooden chairs were interspersed roughly beneath each phone. "Now…you may use the Number Three phone, Miss Zuikawa," he instructed her. "You may dial the number you wish…but, do keep in mind that your call is being monitored at all times."

"Domo arigato," Keiko told him, as he thoughtfully eased out the third chair for her to sit, which she did. "Thank you, Constable." She lifted her bound wrists up until she could remove the handset from the phone on the wall with one hand. She then paused, and looked up at Dombrowski, giving him a pleading smile and batted her long-lashed, beautiful almond-shaped eyes up him winningly. "Might I have some privacy at least, neh?"

Dombrowski grinned awkwardly, but nodded. "Of course," he allowed, then stepped away about three meters away, and leaned back against the wall…his gaze never leaving her.

Keiko awkwardly used her right hand to dial the number, while she held the handset in her left hand. Completing her dialing, she used both of her attractive hands to press the handset to her ear, listening as it dialed the number.

"Bonjour. Nyoko Tomi, speaking…how may I help you?" came the voice of a very business-like young woman over the phone.

"Ohayo, Nyoko-san," Keiko greeted the woman. "It is good to hear your voice again."

"Ah, so desu ka!" Nyoko Tozo gasped, recognizing the voice on the other end of the line now. "Lady Zuikawa! How are you this day?"

"Hmm, not so terrific, Nyoko-san. Well, pretty horrible actually," Keiko informed her with a frown.

"Oh?" Nyoko replied, her golden-brown eyes narrowing as she paused to flip her long straight black hair over one shoulder. "That is disturbing to hear, of course. What may I do to help?"

Keiko smiled, liking the cougar woman's manners…which were impeccable. "Thank you for asking, Nyoko-san. Well, you may have not heard it in the news just yet, but I have been arrested by Interpol," Keiko explained, then waited.

Much as she expected the line went silent a moment, as Nyoko tried to hide her surprise and regain her composure. "Um, er…I trust you are in need of my firm's help then, neh?" Nyoko asked ever so politely.

"As a matter of fact, I would," Keiko said succinctly. "We may discuss the particulars of my case once you or one of your representatives arrives. However, before that, I have one additional task you may be able to do on my behalf, if it is not any bother, of course."

"Hai!" Nyoko replied, sitting up straighter in her chair, her ears standing up straight as well now. "Anything you ask, Keiko-sama! You have but to ask, you know."

"Domo, Nyoko-san," Keiko returned demurely, but inwardly nearly squealed with glee. "Could you manage to have a brief e-mail sent to my father for me?"

"But of course, Keiko-sama!" Nyoko replied diligently, awed to be able to help so famous a person as Keiko Zuikawa just then. "Please give me a moment to get a notepad and a pen." Nyoko scrambled to hurriedly find a writing implement and a blank notepad. "I am ready now."

Keiko smiled, liking this woman's efficiency and drive. "Very good. Address it to Senji Zuikawa, myself as the sender," Keiko directed, giving the woman her father's e-mail address.

"Hai," Nyoko told her, her pen flashing to jot down the kanji characters on the notepad. "Do go on, Keiko-sama…"

"Subject: Operation Shinsei," Keiko then iterated, smiling smugly as she mentally translated the Japanese term 'Shinsei' to its English equivalent, 'New Life'.

"Done! And…?" Nyoko told her then, waiting.

"Say 'I know everything about this endeavor of yours, old man.'," Keiko continued. "Then, 'Should you think I am bluffing on this, this project's keyword is Ryoken.' I repeat…ryoken. Then, lastly, send 'All my best. Your loving daughter, Keiko.' Have you got all that, Nyoko-san?"

"Hai, I do, Keiko-sama," Nyoko replied, finishing the text for the upcoming confidental e-mail. "I'll do exactly as you ask…immediately." Nyoko turned to her computer, and rapidly typed in the e-mail…precisely as Keiko had dictated it to her. She then sent it, and confirmed its delivery before she returned to the phone. "Your message has been sent, Keiko-sama. Now…please give me a quarter-hour to get prepared, and I'll see you at Interpol in person."

"Hai, very good, Nyoko-san," Keiko replied, looking forward to meeting her new lawyer. "Ah, should you wish to talk to the officer-in-charge, she would be one Captain Connelly. Now…sayonara, Ms. Tozo." Keiko slowly hung up the phone, then turned and beckoned to her patiently waiting guard. "I have completed my call, Constable," she told him. She then smiled wearily. "So…it's back to the cell for me then, neh?"

"I'm afraid so, Miss," Constable Dombrowski returned, offering her his hand to assist her in getting back to her feet. She was so tiny to him that he was somewhat afraid he'd break her if he was forced to handle her too roughly. "Follow me, if you please…"

"Hai," Keiko answered, allowing the big Polish constable to led her back to her cell. She walked with her head held high, the oddest contented little smile gracing her lovely face…very reminiscent of a child in a candy store.

Constable Dombrowski frowned again, not at all liking---nor trusting, for that matter---the look on Keiko's very pretty face just now. No, the clever slight leopardess did not look like someone about to spend a great deal of time behind bars. No sir, she did not. However, the decision as to what to do with it was far above his pay grade. So, he decided to hold his peace…for the moment. He'd let Captain Connelly deal with his suspicions.

Same time, at Le Hotel Champlain…

Carmelita lay contentedly flat upon her bed, comfortably awake now. She was sore now, sure…but, it was a good kind of sore. Of course, it did help her disregard the protests of her muscles to know that Zuikawa bitch was now behind bars---where she belonged! Carmelita stretched her long, lovely frame until her arms were straight above her head and her toes were pointed down. She then relaxed, and groaned softly in contentment again. "Another criminal ruined and behind bars. Yet another job well done, it would appear," she told herself, then chuckled.

Carmelita began to twirl a lock of her dark blue-black hair around one of her slender fingers, thinking. Now, in retrospect, it was pretty amazing that everyone involved was more or less safe and sound. She had never imagined having to fend off a group of sword-wielding fanatics…plus several contingents of zealous JSDF Marines as well simultaneously. She knew she never could of pulled it off by herself…no way! She was therefore very thankful that she had had Sly along with her. Carmelita knew that together, her and her Sly were a greater force than both of themselves working separately. They made a one-of-a-kind team---the best, she thought!---that was a fact!

Carmelita started a moment later when she heard Sly moving about in his room across the hall from her. She rolled toward the door, and lifted her head up to rest it on the hand of her upraised arm. She worried how he was doing this morning, and hoped that his poor arm wasn't paining him. Carmelita remembered watching Bentley expertly suturing up the seven-and-one-half centimeter laceration in Sly's left bicep, biting her lower lip, nearly feeling the what-had-to-be excruciating sting of each and every stitch. With that thought upper-most in her mind now, Carmelita arose from her bed, and changed out of her black nightgown and into a black polo shirt and a pair of soft khaki trousers.

Sly Cooper sat on the edge of his bed, gingerly rotating his injured arm, trying to see what he was capable of just this moment. He found he could lift his arm comfortably up to shoulder height…but, after that, his carefully sutured wound would begin to throb in soft, yet very insistent ache. He found he could move it pretty freely in a complete arc front to back, back to front…with little or hardly no pain. He then eyed the wound---under a gauze bandage---and cautiously reached over to gingerly touch it. He hissed softly at the burning that caused, and shook his head.

"Sly?" Carmelita called softly as she knocked upon his door. "Are you up, sweetheart?"

Sly grinned happily at hearing that particular voice this morning. "Yeah, I'm up, querera," he called out, feeling his heart speed up in anticipation of seeing his lady love again, slipping on his favorite pair of grey trousers. "Come on in, doll-face."

Carmelita grinned at his 'doll-face' remark, but entered his room anyway. "What's with this sudden need to call me 'doll-face', Ringtail?" she questioned, even as she moved hurriedly over to him.

"Hey, if the shoe fits, querera…" Sly gently teased, watching raptly as her sweet lovely face descended upon him to share a kiss with her. He just loved nearly everything about her. His Carmelita. The way she looked---always a knock-out! The way her hair always glinted and shimmered in the sunlight, a pure black that reflected blue highlights, and which always smelled wonderful. Even the thinly disguised concern in her big warm medium brown eyes made him wonder how he could love her any more than he already did. "Good morning, pretty girl," he said, reaching up with his uninjured arm so as to lovingly stroke her sweet cheek once. "What brings you this way, hmm?" He then grinned, and added, "Besides my dashing good-looks, I mean?"

Carmelita chuckled at his audacity and sheer charm, feeling her skin nearly tingle with excitement from simply being with him. "You mean that isn't enough?" Carmelita teased right back, accepting his innate challenge. She gazed down into his handsome face, his clever dark brown eyes, and wondered how she had existed all this time without him in her life. It amazed her just how much more alive she felt in his presence, how much each day seemed that much brighter to her now.

"True. So very true," Sly replied, getting to his feet. He then smiled his most dashing smile…just for her, and opened his arms wide. "C'mere you…I need a hug," he informed her, delighting in the fact that in a moment he'd again feel her in his arms.

Carmelita moved into his arms, turning her head to rest her cheek atop his shoulder, closing her strong slender arms around him, squeezing him to herself. She sighed pleasantly as she felt his arms come around her, holding her closely to himself. She felt her heart beat faster for a moment, then slow again. "I love you, Sly Cooper," she told him quietly, intimately.

"Not as much as I love you, Carmelita Fox," Sly replied in her twitching ear, just before he kissed her cheek again. He then leaned her back away from him, gazing into her face with amazement and admiration. "Hey, I didn't get to tell you, Carmelita…I so proud of you, my love! You were magnificent yesterday! No, make that awesome…stupendous!"

Carmelita's lovely face lit up at hearing his praise for her. "Yeah, yeah…I'm sure you tell that to all the other overly talented, stunningly beautiful, and truly athletic girls," she teased, grinning at him.

Sly laughed, a warm happy sound. "Do not!" Sly protested, grinning. "You know there's only one Carmelita…and she's mine!"

"Don't you forget it, buster!" Carmelita returned, then hugged him again fiercely a moment. She then backed away, and placed a very soft, tentative hand over his gauze-covered injury, her face becoming very maternal and gentle just then. "Are you feeling all right, sweetheart?" she asked. "Does it hurt much?"

Sly gently lifted her hand off his wound, and reverently kissed the smooth palm of her hand. "It's not too bad," he told her bravely. He then arched an eyebrow, and grinned. "Though…you could kiss it and make it better…"

Carmelita shook her dark-maned head at him. "You're impossible, Ringtail," she accused, laughing. But, only a moment later, she leaned over and planted a soft, nearly butterfly-like kiss to his wound. "There…it's all better now," she proclaimed, her eyes twinkling.

"You know," Sly allowed just then, softly patting his injury. "It really does feel better now."

Carmelita laughed again, and reached for a blue turtleneck sweater for her beau. She cast it playfully at his head, saying, "You're such a goof, Cooper!" she proclaimed to one and all. "Now, get dressed, sir…you're taking me to breakfast."

Sly pulled the thin blue turtleneck over his head gently, threading his arms though. He then eyed his beautiful lady love curiously. "I am? Where to, my lovely girl?" he asked.

"I hear that there's a five-star café…just downstairs," Carmelita informed him, watching him tuck his sweater into his jeans. "And, as fate would have it…we've got reservations."

"What a clever girl I have," Sly commented cleverly himself, hooking his uninjured arm out for Carmelita to link arms with him.

"As a matter of a fact," Carmelita returned, holding her lovely chin high, "you do."

"Our breakfast awaits, O Loveliest of Ladies," Sly said as he opened the door, and ushered his Carmelita out and toward their waiting breakfast.

"Hey, I just remembered, Sly," Carmelita told him as they descended the broad staircase, "Tonight's the night when Bentley gonna pop the question to Yuri!"

"Hey…you're right!" Sly replied grinning. "Wouldn't want to miss that now, would we?"

"Not for anything, handsome," Carmelita agreed as she set her left foot down upon the main floor. "Hmm, speaking of our fine shelled hero…where is he, I wonder?"

"Well, if I know Bentley," Sly ventured to his winsome companion, "I'd guess we won't find him too far away from his computer."

Carmelita looked in amazment to Sly. "You're kidding! Even on a day as important as today?" she remarked, her lovely eyes wide.

"Especially today, Carmelita," Sly corrected, then shrugged and chuckled. "It's a comfort thing, I think…"

Sure enough, on their way toward the kitchen, she and Sly did indeed see their friend Bentley furiously typing away on his PC. "You're uncanny sometimes, Ringtail," she murmured to him, her eyes dancing merrily. But, to Bentley, she called out, "Hey, how's it goin', amigo? Not nervous yet, are you, Bentley?"

Bentley started at hearing her voice, but then shook his head, and turned around and away from his work. "As a matter of fact, Carmelita…no…not at all," he proclaimed just a trifle bit sarcastically. "Why should I, eh? It's not like anything's going to happen today that I could even remotely screw up, right? I mean, why should I be worried about embarrassing myself tonight? Which, knowing how I feel right now, I most certainly will. Like…like…"

Carmelita couldn't help herself and threw out, teasing. "Like something like losing Yuri's engagement ring?" Carmelita posed, grinning. "Something along those lines, amigo?"

Bentley blinked, then promptly panicked, his face going distinctly pale as he reached down into his shell, scrambling around frantically a moment. He then sighed, then glared over at the now smiling Carmelita, finally removing a small black box, which he opened then gazed down at the spectacular yellow gold ring with a stunning marquis-cut emerald bigger than an almond.

"Woo! Now, that's one beautiful ring there, guy," Carmelita said, very truthfully.

"Nice sparkler you got for her, pal," Sly observed, nodding his head approvingly. "A beautiful ring for a beautiful woman…"

"Hey, this ain't nothing compared to my Yuri," Bentley protested, smiling.

"I'm impressed, Bentley," Carmelita told him.

"Thanks," Bentley said, though a bit sheepishly. "Eh, though I can't take the credit, Carmelita…I mean, Naomi helped me pick it out."

Carmelita smiled, nodding. She then moved over to put a comforting hand on his back. "Hey, quit your worrying, amigo. If Yuri is happy to have your children, don't you really think that she'll be more than willing to be your wife as well?"

Bentley grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, you're right…I know," Bentley replied, looking away a moment. "But, I still can't seem to get over the fact that after today, the lovely Yuri Sing will be one step closer to becoming my wife." He stopped, then shook his head, a foolish yet grateful smile appearing on his face just then. "I mean, you two have seen her, right? She is so beautiful, so graceful…so…so perfect in every way. And then…there's me. Little, nerdy turtley me. What can she possibly see in me…I don't know. But…she does. Oh, thank God she does! I mean…good Lord almighty…I'm the father of her children…her children…and mine. I mean…"

Sly laughed softly, and patted Bentley on the back. "Easy, Bent…you're rambling, buddy," he observed. "Don't worry about the small stuff, pal…just remember that she loves you…you, Bentley Turtle, none other. You might not understand it…but, heck…why bother! Just accept it and treasure her for the rest of your lives, Bentley."

Carmelita blinked and looked at Sly just then. How could someone who seemed to routinely laugh at the world, come up with beautiful things like that to say? She reached her hand around to pull Sly's head her way and soundly kissed his cheek. "I love you, sweetheart," she whispered.

Sly just grinned, and kissed her back on her own cheek.

Bentley just beamed. "Gee, er…well, gee, thanks, Sly," Bentley stammered, grinning. "That's awfully swell of you to say, pal."

Sly grinned and patted his friend's shelled shoulder once more. "Don't mention it, guy," he told his friend. Sly then hugged his Carmelita once more---just for the thrill of it, you know---and then rubbed his hands together. "Okay, now…on to something really important…"

"Oh?" both Carmelita and Bentley asked simultaneously.

"Yeah, I don't know about either of you," Sly threw out grandly, "but I'm starving! Who's up for some breakfast…Sly Cooper-style?"

"Sounds like a pretty good deal to me," Carmelita opined, knowing that Sly in actuality was a pretty decent cook. "How's about you, amigo?" she asked Bentley a moment later.

"Sounds good to me," Bentley offered, then frowned. "You're not making anything with tomatoes, right? You know I'm allergic, pal. I don't want to have my face swell up…on this day of all days."

"Not too worry, Bent," Sly told him, grinning. "Pancakes and eggs, pal. That acceptable?"

"You mean, you're still here?" Bentley teased, getting Sly to laugh…before he dashed off to the kitchen, blowing Carmelita a kiss as he was leaving. Bentley then looked to Carmelita, grinning himself. "You know…" he ventured then stopped.

"What is it, Bentley?" Carmelita asked, curious at what he was thinking.

"It's nothing, really," Bentley tried, then shook his head, and elaborated. "It's just that…well, I've never seen Sly so happy before. Ever since he's proposed to you, it's like…well, it's like he's always got the same goofy grin plastered on his face." Bentley then blushed, but then looked up to Carmelita. "Thanks, Carmelita…thanks for making my pal the happiest guy on Earth."

Carmelita blinked rapidly, feeling her heart swell with emotion just then. It shouldn't of come as any surprise to her, hearing that…but, well, it did…sort of. It was one thing for her to realize something like that…it was altogether something more special and precious for others to see it. "Er, well…you're welcome, I guess," Carmelita told him, smiling to hide the happiness that loomed within herself. "But, it wasn't me…not really," she corrected. "I mean, it's just like we two are…well, we're meant to be together, you know?"

Bentley thought a moment, than laughed to himself. "Yeah, you know…I really do think I understand, Carmelita," he told her. "I know Yuri and I are vastly different than you and Sly…but, well…we're kinda the same too, right?"

Carmelita grinned, then nodded her head. "Absolutely," Carmelita told him. "Say, amigo?"

"Yeah?" Bentley replied, still thinking about his lovely Yuri.

"Do you remember back on the first day I moved in with you all?" Carmelita asked, putting a companionable hand on Bentley's shoulder.

"Hmm, yeah…sort of," Bentley replied, looking up. "What specifically?"

"Remember back when I told you a lot of bright girls would go for a genius-type like you?" Carmelita added, prompting Bentley's memory a bit.

Bentley blushed at that, then chuckled. "Yeah, I remember, Carmelita," Bentley replied, then grinned and shook his head. "Who'd of ever thought just how right you'd end up being, former Inspector."

"Well, I do have a sort of a reputation…" Carmelita teased, grinning.

Bentley chuckled, shaking his head. "And you say that Sly's impossible," he challenged her.

"Eh, apparently he's rubbed off on me a bit," Carmelita replied, smirking.

"Let's get some breakfast," Bentley wisely counseled, "before Murray gets up, okay?"

"Ooh, good point," Carmelita agreed, then giggled. "Sly will make enough though…you know that…even for Murray."

"Yeah, I know," Bentley answered, grinning over his shoulder.

"Say, I've been meaning to ask you, Bentley," Carmelita began as the two walked into the kitchen, which rang with the clang and clatter and other sounds of breakfast being prepared. "Have you and Yuri figured out just how many children you're expecting yet?"

"Nope, not yet," Bentley told her, even as he and Carmelita began to set the breakfast table. "Yuri has an appointment on Sunday with her OB/GYN, and I'll be going with her this time."

"Nice," Carmelita returned, nodding as she laid out the requisite number of plates. "Any ideas on what names you two like?"

Bentley set out the forks and knives, thinking a bit before answering. "Well…we've decided that if our children are snow leopards, we'll give them French names, and if they should be turtles, why then we'll give them American names…me being American and all."

"What if you have some of both, amigo?" Carmelita suggested, placing juice glasses at each setting.

"We thought of that too," Bentley explained, smiling and nodding. "The same logic will still apply…with appropriate names for each child, of course."

"That makes good sense, Pops," Carmelita replied, teasing Bentley.

"Oh, man," Bentley groaned, then smiled. "Don't start that quite yet, okay? I'm not even a husband yet!"

Carmelita just laughed, which Bentley soon joined in with her.