Paris, France. 4:31. Present Day.
Bentley sat at his desk, feeding instructions to his super-computer, customized by none other than himself. The area was an organized mess, remnants of a meal was pushed aside as stacks of papers were placed randomly on the desk. His fingers typed furiously, searching through his database to find anything that could be useful in his search for Sly. It had already been months, and the gang had all moved on to their own future. Not Bentley, however. He spent restless nights following any leads that could direct him to finding his partner and best friend.
One of Bentley's sources claimed to have seen a raccoon with a cane that walked a certain route every day in Barcelona, Spain. The turtle was breaking down the police firewall in order to obtain all camera views of the route. It was a simple task for Bentley, who now had over twenty camera views projected on his multiple screens. Bentley leaned back in his chair, pushed his glasses up his nose, and waited.
Bentley's eyes shifted from view to view, trying to sort through the many faces that was walking on the sidewalk. A bull here, a monkey there, but no raccoons. Bentley's patience was beginning to wear thin. According to his source, Sly should have come up on at least one of the screens by now. The turtle rolled over to the sink to discard his dishes from the meal he had a few hours earlier.
As Bentley looked back at the computer, he thought he spotted a ringed tail disappear around a corner. He took off his glasses, cleaned them quickly, and placed them back on. Rolling quickly over to the screens, he saw the tail again, and sat up straight. "I found him! In all the places I could have predicted, he chose Barcelona. I must say that it was very difficult to…" Bentley trailed off as he looked closer at the image that was in front of him.
An old raccoon was stepping very slowly, placing his wooden cane on the ground for support with every step. He waved at a florist, whom he was well acquainted with. The old man plucked a small flower from a pot and placed it delicately onto the young bear's head. The old raccoon smiled and continued on his long journey home.
"Drats! Another miscalculation by another source, that's the third time in two weeks now, I can't believe this, how did my source think that an old raccoon like that could be Sly?" Bentley slammed his fists on the keyboard, breaking several of the keys. Bentley stared at his hands in awe, then unplugged the keyboard. Rolling over to the trash can, he discarded the useless device and decided to take a break. He remembered that he had not gotten the mail yet that morning, and decided to collect it.
Bentley rolled his wheelchair down the wooden ramp toward his green mailbox. It was a beautiful day in Paris, the temperature was not too hot; the sun not too bright. Bentley had developed an appreciation of the Earth's beauty, especially since he had a near-death experience when Clock-La's beak crushed him. He reached the mailbox and gave a tug to the small door. Upon looking inside it, a single square envelope was inside. He grabbed the envelope and was surprised to find that the cover was blank: no address, no recipient, nothing but a sealed blank envelope. Bentley opened up the letter, and pulled out a postcard. Bentley was taken slightly aback, but gazed thoughtfully into the postcard.
The card had a picture of hieroglyphics, particularly Egyptian. As Bentley studied the image; there were two raccoons painted onto the wall. The one on the left was holding two short canes, and was wearing a pharaoh's headdress. Bentley instantly recognized the image from the Thievius Raccoonus: it was Slytunkhamen Cooper II. Bentley had studied numerous pages on Slytunkhamen. Robbing rich, greedy pharaohs was his specialty, one of his prizes was the very headdress that he was pictured with. Looking at the photo again, Bentley concluded that the hieroglyphs could not be from the Cooper vault on Kaine Island. Sly had spoken of various treasures and paintings of each of his Cooper ancestors. "If Sly's description of Slytunkhamen's gallery is precise, then this second painting proves that these hieroglyphs aren't the same as the one that was in the vault." Bentley murmured quietly to himself. He turned his attention to the second raccoon.
This raccoon was drawn sitting down, almost in a meditation pose. His hands were on his knees; a single, long cane was resting across his lap. The only color in either hieroglyph was on the drawing of the second raccoon. His eyes were a chocolate brown, all too familiar for Bentley. "Sly."
Bentley gasped and dropped the postcard, and it fluttered slowly to the ground. The backside was now exposed on the card. He breathed a heavy sigh as he reached for it. A red stamp in the shape of a familiar mouse was the only thing that was on the opposite side.
Bentley stared at the card, remembering all the memories of Penelope: good and bad. Bentley seemed to always have a slight chuckle when he thought of Penelope disguised as the infamous Black Baron, dominating the skies of the ACES tournament in Holland. He also remembered how relieved he was when Penelope had escaped Captain LeFwee's evil intentions. That day would always have a special place in Bentley's heart; it was the day that their relationship started. After the chaos on Kaine Island and the "amnesia" of Sly, Penelope had worked long hours in developing many inventions, their most prized being the time machine. He remembered the desperation of trying to find Penelope as she simply disappeared from his life. The desperation during that time was almost as painstaking as the process of finding Sly. The most recent memory of Penelope was the unmasking of her new alias: the Black Knight. It was also the most crushing. Bentley was in complete shock. He remembered the bittersweet victory as he defeated Penelope and threw her into prison.
She promptly escaped that prison, and had since been sending postcards to Bentley. Bentley had always assumed that the postcards were simply Penelope communicating to him where she was in the world. This postcard was different. Sly was on this card. He was certain of it.
Pushing away the thoughts of the lavender mouse, Bentley pushed himself back into his house, and immediately began to work upon rebuilding a new keyboard. It took him almost fifteen minutes, but when the turtle plugged in the keyboard, it was another successful project. Bentley searched through his computer's database, looking for any files on Slytunkhamen.
After going through several files, he finally found what he was looking for. The hieroglyphs were in Giza, the exact same place that the Thievius Raccoonus stated Slytunkhamen II lived. Bentley leaned back in his chair, predicting the situation. Either Sly had managed to survive the blimp crash, travel to Egypt, learn how to draw hieroglyphics, and left his mark on his own ancestor's drawing, or…
Sly had traveled through time to Ancient Egypt, and found his ancestor Slytunkhamen Cooper II.
Bentley looked at the postcard again. Could he really trust Penelope, especially after all the deception and heartbreak? It seemed genuine, and this was the first real lead that Bentley had since he began to search for his friend. He had to take this chance to find his life-long friend. Bentley shut off his computer and began to pack his bags.
A/N
Thank you so much any support that you, the reader, have given me with my first chapter on this site. I hope that as you travel with me down this road, you can continue to enjoy my work. I'm expecting to continue to do updates throughout the summer on a regular basis. To any of the Fathers out there, continue to love your children, it means the world to us. Happy Father's Day everyone!
