Chapter 23: Personal Matters
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Here we go again. Sly Cooper belongs to Sucker Punch, and these chapters will be mini-heists, not interim. Should help keep them interesting.
Small confession; I haven't actually worked out all the particulars of the last Steele Ring member yet, which contributed to my decision to delay.
With that little secret up in the air, let's get to business.
—
"So, who's the target this time?"
"Nobody important. A couple of small-timers trying to get into the big leagues since we, you know, massively inconvenienced the local mafia."
"Ladder-climbers, huh? Well, let's knock them back down to the lower rungs again. Is Rick in position?"
"He'll be ready for the haul. We've only got one shot at this, so don't screw up."
"I thought you said these were small-timers?"
"We haven't done any prep work. All we've got is the intel from ThiefNet and the official blueprints of the building, courtesy of the fragile security of the contractor's computer."
"…True. I'm in the window."
"I already know you're on schedule."
"No, no, the actual window."
"Oh! Then you're ahead of schedule."
"Just take the shot, I need a-"
Almost as soon as he spoke, he heard the unmistakable crack of Abby's BB, and raised his hand. It was an old family trick that let him perform his own - the Thief Reflexes, a heightened state of awareness enabled by periodic meditation.
To him, time slowed to a crawl as he turned to watch the incoming round. With practiced precision, he brought his cane up to match the path of the projectile. Curving its path with the crook of the thieving instrument, he brought it in a perfect circle, depositing it safely in the palm of his hand.
"-glass cutter. Thanks for putting it in the little plastic ball." he grinned, turning back to the window. The thief deftly cut out a circular entrance, caught the glass as it began to fall, then let himself into the room.
"What am I looking for here?"
"These guys are gun runners. We won't want their merchandise - little profit from that, and besides, we don't deal in deadly weaponry."
"So what do they have that we want?"
"The profits, of course. Like I said, they're small-timers - barely any common sense at all. Spent the money from their first run in equal part; expanded merchandise and gear, sure, but they put just as much into decoration. Idiots think they need to 'look the part' to hang with the big dogs."
"Any good thief knows; it's not the looks, it's the skills. If your clothes are a deal-breaker, then the deal was never a good one."
"Exactly. Even undercover missions rely much more on your skills than your disguise. A lot of what these guys bought is wearable; watches, pendants, that sort of tacky, hard-to-steal stuff. But they also sunk a lot of money into one easy-to-carry package; a shiny little treasure called the Glacial Bracer. Some kind of funky diamond inlay, looks like ice. Worth some serious coin."
"Sounds pretty. So, that's my target?"
"Right. Rick will act as your distraction for the getaway, while I cover from the roofs. Everyone in that building is with these gunrunners - so don't worry about collateral damage. I'll do what I can to keep your route safe, but there's only so much I can do, so don't let anyone raise the alarm."
"Roger that. The safe is on the ground floor, right?"
"Right agai-popping bogey!"
List immediately dropped into a crouch as he heard another crack. A pained moan followed by a thud put a grin on his face, and he stepped into the hallway over the unconscious guard.
"Sorry, pal." he remarked, pulling the dart out of the sleeping guard's side. "This might ruin your job, but I need to stay under the radar.
A little posing later, and Abby sighed as a picture popped up on her Binocucom. "Really, List?"
"I had a little time to spare. Whaddaya think? I call it; 'Sleeping on the Job'."
"Don't quit your day job. But it'll fool anyone, so long as they don't shake the poor guy awake. Good work."
"Thanks. Heading downstairs now."
It took a few more well-placed shots and whacks upside the head to get the thief safely downstairs. "Way more corners than anyone really needs." he grumbled, silently bringing down yet another guard.
"At least none of them have seen you coming."
"True, but I'm the sneaky one. I could go unnoticed just as easily in a long, straight hallway."
"Then why did you need my supporting fire to make it this far?"
"I didn't really 'need' your support, per se, but it has made the job significantly easier. I'm on the ground floor. Safe should be easy to crack, but getting it out is a different story."
"Top floors are beginning to suspect something is wrong, but you're still clear on the ground. That won't last. Your best exit strategy is the one we laid out beforehand."
"Just so we're clear; this is a hot exit, right? Rick comes charging in, lays out as many of the thugs in the front as he can, and we both run for it?"
"That's the plan. We're on the clock - get to work!"
"Relax. It's not like… They… Abby, there's no safe in this room."
"Wait, what?"
"No. Safe."
"B-b-but, there's gotta be a safe! All the intel pointed to that one room! There's nowhere else that makes sense!"
"Hang on. I may have found the problem."
"What? What happened?!"
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. Art decryption lock. They hid it behind this tacky painting. Give me thirty seconds… Bunch of idiots, hiding the safe behind the combination…"
"Oh. Oh, thank goodness. Here I was thinking that-"
"Uh… Abby? I found the bracer. It's not in the safe, though."
"Really? Well, grab it and-"
"Gonna have to call you back. Tell Rick 'Plan B', will you?"
"Plan B? But that's-"
"Thanks. Bye!"
As List hung up on the jackal, he gave an embarrassed grin to the frankly enormous boar standing in front of him.
"So, no hard feelings?"
"Now, lemme see. You break into my place o' business. You knock out the men I have upstairs - thinkin' I don't keep a little insurance in case o' that, too. An' you try ta steal my shiny new piece o' jewelry. I'm thinkin' there's a lotta hard feelin's out o' that." the man responded, using a thick 'mob' accent. He raised his arm, displaying the trinket that the thief was after snugly wrapped around his wrist.
"Yeah, I figured. That's why I said 'Plan B'." List grinned in response, before bringing his cane around hard. A look of surprise appeared on his face as his cherished tool simply rebounded off of the gangster's skull, sending an unpleasant vibration through his body.
"You thinkin' you can hurt me wit' that li'l stick? Tha's hilarious, kid." the boar guffawed, before bringing his fist down hard. List just barely managed to get out of the way, with the huge porcine creating a crater in the wall from the impact of his strike.
"Okay, Rick. I really need Plan B right about now."
"Who? What th' hell is 'Plan B'?"
"Uh, my big lovable goof of a friend who also happens to be quite frankly ridiculously strong…"
An enormous crash reverberated through the room, the wall opposite to the one the boar had weakened quickly reduced to dust.
"…And that, in order."
The boar's shock was more than enough for List. Not a moment later, the big man found himself on the receiving end of a rather nasty shock.
"So, I finally figured out how to perform that little trick." List grinned, his cane sparking with electricity. Another whack sent the boar to the floor, and the half-coon grinned, bracer in hand.
"Wow. That thing's really pretty." Rick remarked, staring at it.
"It is, isn't it? I'm halfway tempted to stash it in the Cooper Vault. Then again, we've sunk some coin into this op that we won't get back any other way than selling it…"
"Belay that, List. They've got something else worth stealing, but you'll have to be fast. Police are on their way - and the Inspector is heading them. Seems the van attracted a lot of attention."
"Point me towards the shiny stuff."
"Turns out these idiots have a piece of contraband they got at a hefty discount from a… Questionable source. I have a contract here on ThiefNet - exclusive offer, looks cobbled together in the last sixty seconds. The original owner wants his gun back."
"Gun?"
"You can't possibly miss it. It's an old one, but it's a good one - a Hotchkiss Model 1909. Also known as the Benet-Mercie, it's a French-made LMG, and it's in perfect condition. Given that this one has a history to it, it's worth a lot of money - and the man we're now stealing it for is willing to pay almost double what it's worth to get it back. Family heirloom."
"I can relate."
"Figured as much. Anyways, you'll have to work fast - it's in its own crate, should be separate from the rest. If Rick carries it, it shouldn't slow you two down, but you're still on a tight schedule. I'll wait in the van."
"You got it."
Both thief and strongman ran off, leaving the boar dazed and confused… And with one of the Cooper calling cards on his chest. It didn't take them long to reach the warehouse, Rick handily disposing of the guards along the way.
"Alright, look for a box. Shouldn't be full-sized like these bulk crates - might be made out of something different, too." List instructed, as he and his pal began to turn the whole place upside down.
"Full stop! Think I found it!"
Both of them stopped for a moment, admiring the svelte leather case List had pulled out of the shelves.
"Classy." Rick nodded in approval.
"Mm-hm. Really says 'weapon with history'." List agreed.
"If you boys are done admiring the case, get out of there!"
"Hey, we're guys. We can take a minute to appreciate fine craftsmanship any time." the thief grinned. Rick hoisted the case, and both boys took off, headed for the main warehouse door…
…Only to run into an ambush. Completely surrounded by cops wielding standard-issue SIG handguns and Ruger rifles, plus one unarmed and extremely dangerous Interpol Inspector standing just opposite them on the interior of the semicircle.
"You're surrounded, and these policemen are exceptionally well-trained. Surrender, or I'll signal them to kneecap you both." Alayna informed them, keeping her tone civil.
"I'm flattered. Thirty armed policemen, plus an extremely skilled Inspector, for just two criminals?" List asked, a smile on his face. "I guess you've begun to take us seriously."
"You have five seconds to comply. Hear that, boys? If they aren't on the ground in five…" she announced, loud enough for all the officers surrounding them to hear.
List grinned again. "Only five? Darn. I was hoping for seven. Give Abby a chance to ensure a good ricochet on her first shot."
"Wha-MERDE! TIREZ!"
Fingers went to triggers, but never got the chance to pull them. Several cracks rang out in quick succession, and a protective layer of goop exploded into the air, catching incoming fire just long enough for the boys to duck back into the warehouse.
As ricocheting BB bullets bounced through the cops, knocking then out en masse, the enraged tigress grabbed a SIG out of the air, grimacing at the unfamiliar weighting of the weapon. Dodging one of the hard plastic balls, she ran into the facility, still growling.
"Where are you…?"
A crash alerted her to yet another wall falling. A flash of fur was all she saw as the thieves made a break for it.
"I won't let you escape me again, Voleur!"
"Afraid you don't really have a choice, Inspector!"
Enraged, the cinnamon-furred tigress leaped for the hole, unwilling to let the Cooper Gang escape again. Two flashes this time, and she chose the grey one without hesitation.
"Got you now!" she grinned. Luck was on her side - the alley Cooper had chosen was a dead end.
"Do you?"
The coy voice meant he wasn't concerned. If he wasn't concerned, he had a plan. If he had a plan…
"Merde."
As she suspected. He had vanished… And left behind a calling card, as usual. Picking it up, she slipped the pistol into her holster - too small, but she would return it anyways.
Sorry to run again. How about I make it up to you? Christmas is coming up. Think we can put aside our differences for one night? I even have a gift for you. Just don't shoot me when I show up, alright? See you then! -List
"Cocky little…" she growled, before shoving the card into her pocket. "…This is going to be another fun report, isn't it?"
—
Well, there's the first of the mini-heists. Cut it short a little, but… There wasn't much more to write, and I didn't want to put off posting it any longer.
Yes, the story clock doesn't follow real time. It's not a crime, and I wanted a little winter out here. It's frickin' burning out here, I needed to at least write a little cold. So join us next time for Chapter 24: A Cooper Christmas.
KeyFire out. I'm gonna get some lemonade…