Chapter 8: A Snowy Goodbye

—

Well, we made it through the first mission. Probably. Who wants to see what happens next? I know I do.

Let's get going, shall we?

Sly Cooper doesn't belong to me. Really. If that property belonged to me, Sly 5 would be well underway by now. And it isn't, at least according to reliable news at the time of this writing.

Enough stalling. Let's see what happens next.

—

…

Okay, he wasn't cold anymore. That was a plus. But that meant he was either inside, or dead.

"LIST!"

That voice belonged to Rick. Okay, he was inside. That was… That was good.

The thief groaned in agony as he struggled back to consciousness. "I really need to stop getting blown up…" he muttered, clutching his head, before a clinking noise caught his attention. Opening his eyes fully, he realized that he was… In the safe house.

And Rick and Abby were looking at him.

And he was… In handcuffs?

His muddled memories slowly returning, the thief moved his arms experimentally. "Someone want to explain why I woke up clapped in irons? Or did we just get press ganged?" he asked, grinning despite his splitting headache.

"Long story. We have some questions for you, too." Abby replied, looking worried.

"Shoot. I'll try to answer."

"Alright. What in blue blazes happened up there?! You cut me off, and next we see you you're barely alive!"

"I think… Yeah. I saved the Constable from a grenade, then… Oh."

"Well?!"

"Uh… I might've killed Gol Bora by making his grenade launcher blow up in his face."

"YOU WHAT?!"

"Well, not directly. He got hurt pretty bad by the explosion, but then he stumbled off a cliff. I'm pretty sure he's dead from the fall if nothing else."

"Okay, okay… We didn't come here to kill, but if nothing else, that at least takes him out of the picture for good… And now we don't have to worry about an angry Russian mob bear seeking revenge…"

"You're not freaking out?"

"I have to stay calm so I can get the full story out of you. Then I can freak out."

"Fair enough. But I answered one of your questions, so can I ask a question?"

"…Fine. We'll trade answers."

"Awesome. How'd I get back down here? Last I remember I was losing consciousness in the snow after killing Gol Bora."

"That's the thing. You were half-dead when Constable Marais dragged you in here, and she wasn't exactly in top shape either. She was so quiet, too. Didn't say a word."

"Wait, really?"

"Would I lie about that?"

"…No, I guess not."

"My turn. Where's your cane?"

"My cane… Oh. Right." List sighed, looking depressed now. "It's gone. I used it to plug up the barrel of the bad guy's grenade launcher. It survived the blast, but it went over the edge of the platform. Last I saw of it, it was sailing down and out of sight."

"…Isn't that cane a priceless family heirloom and the key to your family vault, along with the only tool you swear by in any and every situation?"

"It was either that or die messily."

"I'm surprised you didn't choose the latter."

"Very funny, Abby. My turn. Why am I in handcuffs?"

"Like I said, Constable Marais dragged you in here. We all patched you up, then she put you in handcuffs and just… Left."

"Didn't even leave a message?"

"She told us that she'd shoot us if we left before she got back."

"Sounds like her, alright. I'm confused, though. She must've known that I could get out of handcuffs… She knows for a fact that I am extremely good with locks."

"We're just as clueless as you are, List. Like I said, she was really quiet. Barely said anything other than that one message. It looked like she was thinking about something. My turn. Why did you go up there and save her?"

"Being a thief's no fun without someone trying to catch you. Besides, we're all alive and the bad guy is out of the picture. Everything worked out, right?"

"Aside from the fact that we are very likely going to jail now? Yeah, just peachy. Rick, back me up on this."

"I dunno, Abby." the bear remarked, looking thoughtful. "She brought List all the way back down the mountain and helped patch him up. Maybe she'll give us a pass?"

"I don't know why I expected you to say anything else. You always have hoped for the best, Rick." Abby sighed in response.

"I guess we'll find out when-"

The half-coon thief was cut off by the front door swinging open, all three quickly looking over. Standing in the doorway was none other than Constable Alayna herself. A bruise on her cheek and a cut on her hand were her only visible injuries, but List's trained eyes quickly found the limp she was trying so hard to conceal, the hand she was so desperately trying not to bring to her gut - she was more badly wounded than she looked.

"Voleur. I see you're awake. And still in handcuffs." she remarked, stepping inside.

"Figured it'd be rude to pick them without knowing why they're on me in the first place." he grinned, not calling attention to her barely concealed wounds. "I assume there's a reason you brought me back down here?"

"…You sacrificed your cane to save my hide. Faced with a life in jail, you refused to drop it. But when I was on the line too, you were willing to part with it."

"An intriguing theory. And you're sure I wasn't just trying to save my own life? Or are you rationalizing because there's some other reason you saved me in return…?"

"Keep digging and I may just forget, Voleur. And for that matter, yes. I am sure it was for my benefit." she told him, getting flustered now. She was out of anger, after that emotionally draining scene on top of the mountain, but the thief just had a way of getting under her skin…

"You're a police officer. I thought your kind only came to that kind of conclusion with some hard evidence." he grinned, amused.

"You did not run away, Voleur. You could have left me to die, it would've made no difference. Instead, you got up to the platform, and snatched a live damned grenade out of midair." she reminded him.

"Oh? Is that a hint of admiration I hear in your voice? And I thought you had your eyes closed when that happened…" he grinned, a little flattered at her remembrance of the event.

"Not admiration, Voleur." she told him, adding "T'es un putain de fou furieux." under her breath.

"What did I say about cursing?"

"My shock pistol is working again, Voleur."

"Please, continue."

"Très bien. I only suspected it until just now. You just confirmed it for me. Which is evidence for the reason behind your later actions." the tigress revealed, a smug grin on her face.

"…Damn. You're pretty good at this."

"Of course. Anyway. Consider the rescue a favor returned."

"Is that all? You don't strike me as the type to come back unless you had something else to say." List asked, certain that there was more to the story than what she was telling him.

She considered for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind. "Your team is free to go. I cannot legally arrest you here as you have no outstanding warrants, thanks to the wonderful world of bureaucracy, though I could easily detain all three of you for questioning. Consider that a thank you for finishing my job."

"Speaking of which, don't you need to radio in to your boss and tell him what happened?" Abby asked, unable to help herself against her own curiosity.

"I already did, jackal. 'For commendable effort and great risk to personal safety', I have been promoted to Inspector pending retrieval of Gol Bora's corpse." Alayna replied, looking conflicted.

"I suppose that you didn't want to take the reward without ensuring that the 'civilian' who assisted you went uncompensated?" List interjected, looking amused again.

"Do not push your luck. I have told them that your gang was responsible for the fracas in the base and the emptying of the house, and escaped while I confronted my target. Telling them the truth would cause… Complications." she replied, looking uncomfortable. "In short; this meeting never happened. Understand?"

"Of course. Wouldn't dream of ruining your reputation at the office." List grinned. The newly-minted Inspector rolled her eyes, crossed the room, and dropped something into his hand.

"No point in keeping you in cuffs." she explained, as he quickly used the key to free himself.

"Thanks. I could've picked the lock, but this is so much more civilized, don't you think?"

"Why do you insist on pushing your luck so far, Voleur?" she asked, irritated.

"Danger is my middle name, my dear Inspector."

"I thought it was Conner, after your grandfather?" asked Rick, looking confused.

"That's… Yes, Rick." Abby sighed.

"…Anyways. I should get going. I still have to locate Gol Bora's body before the rest of the Interpol team arrives. Shouldn't be hard." Alayna remarked, heading for the door.

"It was a pleasure working with you, Inspector." List grinned, before settling back into a chair. "We'll be out of here shortly."

As she reached the door, the Interpol officer paused, before sighing. "Voleur."

"Yeeeees?"

"It was… Nice of you. Sacrificing your cane for me."

"…No problem. Like I said. What kind of man would I be to value an object over a life?"

"…Here."

She reached around the corner of the door frame, and pulled something out from where she had left it when she entered. Not bothering to look back, she threw it to List, all three members of the gang watching with wide eyes as the object sailed in a perfect arc into his lap.

"You are still a thief, Voleur, and next we meet, I will put you in jail for it. But for sacrificing your own treasure… I found that for you." she told him, not looking back as List picked it up. When he didn't respond, she half-turned, a wide grin on her face. "And making you speechless makes the time I spent searching for that so very worth it."

"You know, for a police officer bent on shooting us with a taser on steroids and throwing us all in jail, you're pretty cool!" Rick beamed, first to recover after the shock.

"…Thank you. Remember, next we meet, we are enemies once more."

"Inspector."

"Say your piece quickly." she replied, turning all the way and facing the now-serious thief.

"You've done me a favor greater than you can imagine. I don't think I could ever pay you back in full for this. But, for what it's worth… From the bottom of my thieving heart, thank you." he said, all of the playful undertones gone from his voice.

"You would be no fun to arrest without that, Voleur. And with that final remark, I shall take my leave."

This time, she didn't look back. The tigress walked out into the snow, letting the door swing shut behind her, as Abby finally composed herself enough to speak.

"I… I don't think I've ever seen you so serious, List." she managed, looking in near-awe at the object he was now holding in his hands.

"I've never had occasion. But I couldn't possibly joke about something like this."

"So you meant what you said? About how you owed her?"

"I meant every word, Rick, and I think Miss Marais understood that."

Silence reigned in the safe house, as all three looked at the precious treasure that they had thought was lost to the winds.

Abby finally broke their moment of thought. "We should probably get going. We still have to take care of the loot, and we need to get out of here before Interpol arrives in force."

List nodded, silent as a mouse, and all three began to load up for a hasty departure. It wasn't long before they were on the road again, Abby giving a sigh of relief as several choppers with the Interpol symbol on them buzzed by. "We got out of there just in time." she remarked, looking ahead again. "I have a contact in Moscow. We can sell some of this loot, keep the rest. I know your family likes to save up." she giggled, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Yeah… That's a good plan. Rick, think the van will hold up that far?"

"The Mighty Rick's Mighty Van will not be stopped by such puny weather conditions as these!"

"Then Moscow it is." List nodded, cracking a grin at last. "Abby, any prospects after that?"

"None. I've looked through the files, and we'll have our chance to go after our next Steele Ring target in a month. Until then, we're on break, I guess. Ugh, my connection just died. They must've found my USB." Abby sighed, looking disappointed that her hack had failed. And after she put so much time into it, too…

"Then we live it up in Moscow, then back to Paris for some down time. After we're all ready and the appropriate time has come…"

List swung his reclaimed cane around, pointing it to the sky with a huge grin on his face.

"We dole out some karma."

"That was a weak line, List." Rick remarked, unimpressed.

"They can't all be winners. But we can."

"Little better. Keep working on it." Abby told him, typing away at her computer. The thief merely grinned, settled back in his seat, and tipped his hat over his eyes. He needed some sleep…

—

Well, that was fun. I didn't want the lost cane to turn into a long-running subplot - I mean, come on. That's just too easy. Instead, I used it as a short-term plot device. Less easy, because I have to figure out a way for List to repay that favor.

Updates… probably won't slow. But their progress will. We'll have a chapter or two I think you'll find intriguing to fill space, then move on to the next bad guy.

With Gol Bora gone, the Steele Ring is down a man, but with no opportunities on any of the others, the Cooper Gang is taking some time for R&R. Will they be able to get some actual rest? What's going down in Interpol-town? Find out next time, in Chapter 9: In The Interim!

Review if you have something to say. Fave if you liked it. Follow if you… Want… To… Follow?

KeyFire, making my exit.