AAH! I'm so sorry for the delay! I had such a bad case of writer's block when it came to this story! But I'm back, so here's the next chappie!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days have passed since he had convinced Cooper that his girlfriend was dead.

Three days should have been enough.

That thought alone drew the wolf back to the stainless steel elevator, coaxed him to press the button that led the said machinery to the basement, pulled him toward the cell keeping the raccoon thief in confinement. That simple assumption that had formed in Damian's mind seemed sufficient enough reason to re-interrogate their prisoner on the whereabouts of Otto Van Cooper's possessions, as well as the location of his friends, which the wolf had assumed was basically within the same vicinity. He couldn't find any other reason that the raccoon would conceal such information any longer; he believed his girlfriend to be dead, and it had been implied that his friends were being hunted down, so with those two things obliterated from his life, what else was left? Even as his sharp eyes distinguished the broken master thief sitting back against the opposite wall of him, he could find nothing.

"Cooper, we need to have a little…chat." Damian's suave voice cut through the echoing silence of the dark chambers within the basement, pulling Sly out of his depressing and agonized thoughts. Though he hardly showed it, Sly made it somewhat clear that he had acknowledged his warden's presence, not even daring to look up at the cane he knew that Damian was wielding…Sly's own father's cane, passed on to him, now in the clutches of that madman. A thought that still sent the hairs on Sly's neck vertical with fury, thinking of such a disgraceful image.

"I understand that the woman killed recently was close to you, as are your comrades, which my men are still hunting down. I also am under the assumption that you are fully aware that there is no other option for you than death. With such a grim conclusion that both you and I know is inevitable, what is the sense of taking the location of your friends and Otto Van Cooper's treasure to your grave? Wouldn't it just be easier to accept death with your friends at your side when you cross over? Sure, your girlfriend will be there, but-"

"Shut up. I ain't telling you a damn thing." Sly's gruff reply cut the wolf off from his ramblings on the afterlife he had sent many to.

"Surely-"

"Not a damn thing."

"Why won't you reason with the facts?" The thief's warden growled through clenched teeth. Any smoothness in the wolf's voice was drowned out by the frustration at how hardheaded the captured thief was being. "You know there's nothing left of your friends, your gang, your life, so why must you insist on protecting something that is no longer among the world of the living? Why fight a battle in vain and ignorance?" Sly's soft, sad chuckle broke Damian's ramblings before he answered in a clear and resonating tone,

"When my gang and I had first infiltrated this base, I had asked all my friends that were out in the field with me to take a Thief's Oath, that should anything happen to me, they just keep going on without me and finish the mission. When I stayed behind to fight off your guards, they wanted to come back for me, but I had reminded them of their promise. They left just as I had asked of them, not because I had made them swear under Thief's Oath, for that is easily avoided and danced around, but because they trusted me enough to know everything would work out in the end, because we're all friends, basically family. It's that certain bond that made them keep their promise, and it is that same bond that keeps me faithful to my gang. Even if none of them survive, the little comfort I can cling to is that I had tried everything within my ability at the time to keep them protected, to watch their backs as we had all done for each other. Because I am faithful to my friends, alive or not, you won't get a single word out of me." Never in his life had Damian been filled with more rage and hatred toward someone or something, than he was at that moment. Never had he been filled with a burning fire that craved a man's blood that burned so intensely than right then and there. His right hand twitched furiously with the desire to whip out his prize silver magnum and lodge one of its bullets into the thief's skull, to end this man's very life right now, but didn't mainly because he still needed information out of this raccoon, which was the only reason he hadn't fulfilled his desire for the thief's death already.

Before Damian could reply, a loud and resonating THUD was heard above the two occupying the space. The unwelcome sound was followed by an even louder ringing of an alarm droning through the two males' ears, the high pitch scream rising and falling in pitch like a sharp trombone was put behind a megaphone.

The wolf growled, knowing full well that the only times that this particular alarm went off was when thieves were among them.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whew…I'm over my writer's block…soooo happy! –Does happy dance- Stick around, pretty, pretty, pretty please!!! Love ya!