A/N: Again, I wrote a long chapter. This one is about 17 pages. But I keep the pace a bit more action oriented this time around. So you guys liked my mini cliffhanger? Lol . I'm just warming up; I'm usually somewhat notorious for cliffhangers. I've been playing through sly2 since the first game doesn't work for me...I plan to exchange it when I can :)
I posted this, and somehow, a ton of punctuation was eaten. Also, i saw some things I disliked in the way I worded, during the fight, so about an hour after posting, i reposted it. I had the & sign wherever I'd had an elepsis ( ... ) so... I had to fix it... sheesh. anyway.. SORRY:) If you find any mistakes, missing apostrophies, the "&" sign, that sorta stupid stuff, just... lemmie know :(
I promised for some questions to be answered in this chapter but I assure you I'll be leaving you with another cliff hanger. Oh and Carmelita IS acting strangely isn't she? But then again, if her badge is her rock of stability, being how emotional she is...and it was suddenly taken away...don't you think her lack of anchor would leave her floating in the wind? But each crossing with Sly has always been just a tease in the games...let's see how far we can take this teasing, hmm?
And let's just see what happens with these strange dreams she's been having... It's time for her to find some answers. Let us just see how crafty a fox can be!
Btw, incase you didnt know 'Vulpine' is a word for Fox just as 'Procyon lotor' means raccoon! Lupine is wolf, equine is horse, canine is dog, feline is cat, yadda yadda yadda.
Now, let's get lost further into the dementia of the Lamenting of Carmelita!
Chapter 3: Her inability to trust
They were unarmed. Carmelita dashed to the left and Sly went for the right. They were on the same wave length and went to flank the group. Carmelita moved smoothly along the café floor, snatching a catsup bottle off the table and turning around to quickly deliver the glass bottle across the muzzle of one of her opponents.
The red paste splattered and the glass shattered upon contact with the mans snout, immediately knocking him off balance. Sly, on the other hand, was climbing up over the café bar counter. His feet moved gracefully over the cheap Formica counter top, snatching a rail that went along the top of the archways between pillars that lined the bar from one end to the other.
The metal rail was tightly mounted but when he grasped it, he placed both of his feet up on the ceiling and pushed until it came loose. Sly's body twisted about, so that he landed upon his feet, then immediately swung it like a bat, across another rats head. The power of his strike caused it to bend at the end, so it began to resemble his normal hooked weapon.
He immediately hooked the tip under the rats mandible and put his weight into pivoting, so that he could throw the adversary head over heals into the guy Carmelita was fighting. Both of them went crashing to the floor, dazed and without their equilibrium. Carmelita quickly delivered a roundhouse across the glass jowl of the next rodent, spinning him to the left. He staggered towards Sly who quickly slipped the hooked end of the pole around the fiends throat and slammed him to the ground.
One of the criminals brandished a weapon, lifting the hand-cannon directly at the back of the vixens head but Sly wrapped the metal hook around her waist, pulling her back. Using the momentum of weight transfer, Sly bounded forward, into a somersault.
Time stood still and in that moment, the rat only had enough time to look up. His pupils shrunk but he never had the time to lift his pistol. Sly's leg extended fully, locking his knee. The moment exploded forward into the present with Sly delivering his heel into the gunmans forehead. The metallic object skittered across the café floor, noisily.
One of the other rats dashed after it, brushing his feet against it, so that it continued to slide across the floor. Amused by the rat's inadvertent kicking of the weapon, Sly used the hook to take the foe's feet out from under him, only to suddenly receive a bottle of wine smashed across the back of his head. Cooper crumbled to his paws, dropping the hook pole. One of the rats grinned, holding the remnants of a fine French lunch wine. The raccoon struggled for a moment, after having been nailed hard by the bottle.
He shook his head hard, shaking off the dazed effects. Carmelita grabbed the attacker from behind, struggling to contain him. Sly recovered, snatching his hooked pole from the ground. It wasn't as good as his actual family hook staff, but since he knew how to wield a pole that was bent at the end, he was able to make it work fairly well.
Snatching the man from Carmelita's grasp with the hook, Sly flipped the guy around, then delivered a hard left punch, knocking the rat back to Inspector Fox. The punch was so hard that the attacker spiraled about, spinning like a top, towards the vixen. She clocked him right in the snout with a quick jab, causing the man to double over from the pain. Using her police defensive training moves, her knee lifted, meeting the mans face once more, followed by bringing her elbow down upon the nape of his neck and ending the maneuver with an uppercut that simultaneously broke one of her nails and sent him flying onto his back.
"Son of a..." She trailed off, looking at the broken claw, shaking her head disdainfully. Carmelita clinched her fists, taking it out on the very next rat in the room, screaming, "Do you KNOW how LONG it TAKES to GROW THEM THIS LONG!" A left, followed by her right fist met the man's jaw, ending with a devastating roundhouse. She pivoted on her left foot, bringing her right heel across the side of the rascal's temple, knocking him to the floor.
Cooper dashed forward then jammed his pole into the floor. Vaulting over the body of the freshly fallen varmint, Sly delivered a kick across the jaw of the last remaining attacker. The carabineer staggered back towards Carmelita who quickly took him in her arm by his neck then gave him a shove towards Sly who was ready to receive the disheveled rat. He hooked the pole under the rats ankle, pulling his feet out in front him. It caused the rodent to tumble backwards, his feet pulled forward from beneath his body.
Inspector Fox lifted her right knee so that when the rodent fell back, his head connected with her patella, which caused the man to become dizzy. Sly hooked the bent end of the pole into the rodent's shirt, using all his weight to flip the man over his head, from one side of his body to the other, slamming the antagonist into the floor hard.
The dust settled around them and both simply blinked. Eight men, one of which was covered it catsup, lay unconscious at their feet. Slowly but surly the café owner came up from his hiding position behind the counter. He blinked a few times, looking from Sly to Carmelita then offered a confused sort of smile.
"Do you know their motive?" Carmelita asked, always the police officer before anything else.
"They were looking for someone; they claimed he comes here whenever he's in town," Said the owner. Carmelita and Sly exchanged glances with one another. Cooper simply offered her a shrug. The owner continued, "Some guy who fits the description of," he paused then pointed at Sly with a slight shrug. "Someone who kinda looks like you. Gray, slender, raccoon mask, blue cap."
"…Great," Sly chuckled, shaking his head. "Now I've got more fans than just you," He added, speaking to Carmelita. He gave a coy smile but she was only too quick to respond with a huffing sigh, folding her arms and not replying to him.
"Isn't she wonderful?" He asked to the owner.
"Yes quite," replied the beagle, "If it wasn't for you and your girlfriend here, they would have torn the place apart. They thought I was hiding you, if that is indeed who they were looking for," The canine muttered. Carmelita sneered at the term "girlfriend" but kept her manners, looking back to Sly with a smirk, just to see how he'd react.
Sly dragged his hook across a few of the bodies, drawing out wallets with an unnatural grace. He flipped the small leather objects up into his paw with ease, flipping out cash from anyone who had some, then deposited the wallets to the ground, crossing the café floor. He passed several overturned tables, stopping at the counter and handing over a wad of fresh cash.
"That should also cover the metal pole across the top of the bar I broke, sorry about that," Sly said plainly. His offer of apology was more than enough. Sly's eyes lowered to the potted plants and such strewn across the bar which were once hanging from the rail that he had yanked down, earlier. He felt guilty, what could he say?
"It's no problem, it's paid for," The dog said, taking the money into his paws, "Insurance covers everything I need," he told them, putting the money into his pocket. "It's only too kind of you to offer all this money," said the dog, not having seen the thief hook wallets out of pockets so quickly. Sly had stolen with such ease that even Carmelita didn't notice it, standing next to him.
Cooper gracefully swept his foot, pushing the discarded wallets back under one of the fallen attackers, stepping over the body and smiling to Carmelita. "Shall we... interrogate?"
She nodded, half wanting to shrug him off, but the idea had merit. "I totally concur." She then turned to the man at the counter and asked, "Can we use your money-counting office for just a moment?" After the beagle nodded, she snatched one of the ruffians by their collar and dragged him to the end of the counter where it was open, then went towards the opening, through the kitchen and into the back office, Sly followed. "You know," She told Sly once they were in the back, alone, with the unconscious thug, "Don't start letting people think I'm your girlfriend. I'm serious."
"I'm surprised you didn't correct him," Sly returned. She lifted her chin, looking away from him with a snotty smirk. Sly just grinned, looking to throw her off balance by saying something other than a compliment for once, just to see how she'd react. "Get a life, Carmelita."
"Get a job, Sly," She replied, forcing the dead weight criminal towards the back of the small room, shoving him down into the office chair. She turned to Sly and held out her paw. "Gun?"
"What?" Sly just blinked. She narrowed her gaze; he couldnt help but shake his head. "You think I stole the gun off the floor? I dont use those things the way you do. Only if I have nothing else. I'll go get it, sit tight." And with that, he left the room. Back through the kitchen, out into the café, and passed the fallen criminals. It had been knocked across the floor, beneath a set of tables against the far wall.
He recovered it, stuck it into his pocket and walked back into the kitchen, shrugging at the beagle before disappearing through the doorway that went into the back area. Handing forth the weapon, Carmelita checked the chamber, cocked it, then pistol whipped the criminal to wake him up. She put the barrel against the thugs right eye and smiled.
"Very subtle, Inspector," Sly mused, cupping the bottom of his jaw into his right paw, as if he were admiring a painting. She offered him a nasty look then turned away, back towards their captured prey.
Carmelita leaned forward, keeping a very monotone voice. "Good morning, fuzz ball. Mind telling me why you're hunting for Mister Cooper here? I've seen hit men in the past and none of them were as poorly organized as you guys. Eight against two? And we wiped the floor with you boys, I'm almost disappointed."
The thug groaned but didn't offer any information just yet. Sly tilted his head and added, "Were you guys seriously here for me or just any raccoon?"
"You Sly Cooper? We're supposed to bring you back to the boss, so he can lure in some dumb lady cop girlfriend of his and kill her off; we gotta do it so we won't be havin' no troubles." To the thugs words Sly could only shake his head and chuckle. He finally turned back to Carmelita, patted her shoulder and turned for the door.
"I don't have time for this. Bentley is still at the convention and I'm still hungry. Good luck with your friend. It sounds like this involves you more than it involves me. Thanks for coming by to visit me, though. Always a surprise. Good luck with explaining THIS mess to your chief. I bet he'll hit the roof huh?"
Carmelita put weight behind the pistol, keeping the magnum in the thugs eye, hard. She then turned to Sly and snatched his wrist in her free paw. "Sly," She paused. She wanted his help for this one. With no Interpol to back her, getting in over her head was an understatement. But she didn't have the nerve to actually ask for the help.
"Yes?" He asked. To his inquiry, Carmelita just shook her head. But what she didnt know was the fact that he and Bentley had been in town to use the Convention as an alibi for a new heist. The last thing he wanted to do was be late for the heist. The job took too much planning to suddenly get distracted and it seemed like she had full control of the situation now. "You know where to find me, when you're ready to admit whatever it is you can't admit." He pulled his paw out of her own then reached forth and patted her cheek. She narrowed her eyes in rebuttal; Sly headed for the front door of the restaurant.
"She's a wonderful woman, sometimes; don't get me wrong," Sly said to the owner, in passing. He went for the door, opened it, then glanced back over his shoulder at the beagle with a shrug. "But her inability to trust will never cease to amaze me." With that, he disappeared through the door, shutting it behind himself.
Back in the Office, the vixen gritted her teeth. "I'm not his girlfriend," Carmelita snapped, shouting into the thug's face, striking the side of his jaw with the pistol before putting it back against his right eye. "Now, I want to know everything you know. And if you don't give me a bunch of crap, I might even go easy on you and let you go." The truth was, she couldn't arrest him anyhow. And if this did lead back to the new head of Interpol, she couldn't call the police and have these guys locked up. They'd tell someone that she had interrogated them and they would be that many more steps ahead of her.
If she let him go, he might report back to others that tied back to the same people... her superiors. She might let him go, but who was to say that handcuffing him to a pipe in a sewer and leaving him there to get himself out was such a bad idea? At least it would buy her time without killing him.
It irked her to no end, knowing she couldn't lock up these scumbags. But there was more to all of this than meets the eye. If only she knew just how complicated all of this was, she might have gone back home like the bandicoot asked of her. Now she lost Sly, her badge and was about to lose her self composure and take out her anger on this thug unless he cooperated completely.
Sly shook his head, walking through the back alley. The sun was still up and sneaking around during the day looked awful silly. Still, the roof tops were far quicker compared to walking down the block. After thinking better on it, he kept his feet on the ground and simply walked back towards the Convention center. The truth was in lack of hunger; his apatite was gone for the moment. He was, however, tired.
"Just… Carmelita," He repeated her words back to himself then grinned. His paw lifted, flipping his favorite blue cap from off of his head with a sort of inner grin. A steel-colored tuft of headfur was just above his eyes, bouncing slightly with every step. Sly gave the hat a twirl then tossed it up in the air, craning his neck so that it landed perfectly, seated upon his brow. It wasn't necessarily cold out just yet but it certainly was brisk enough to wear a blue sweater and black baggy pants. Not the usual thief attire, really.
It was still two hours left before the sun would finally start to descend into the western skyline. Coming around the backside of the Convention Center, Sly paused in front of the van. The fiery paint job and large roof-lamps above the windshield seemed a bit flashy to take on the role of a get away vehicle. Either way, it demanded too much attention for tonight's job. Leaving it here would be much better, this time around.
Cooper turned to face the van, reaching a paw up to wipe at a spot on the windshield. Really, he was gazing into the reflection of the glass then smirked to himself. No Carmelita. He was actually surprised. He half expected her to be tracking him. Sly continued passed the loading dock and went for a side door to the building.
Returning to where Bentley had his table set up, he glanced around for Penelope but didn't see her. Sly took a seat, sliding down next to his friend with a nod. "Changed my mind about being hungry after all, so where'd the mouse go?"
"Sly, keep it down!" Bentley said in an overly dramatic whisper. Suddenly, the raccoon was overcome by a fit of laughter. All the times that Bentley was a little overzealous on a job and seemed to get excited and a tad loud, and here he was, of all people, trying to shush Sly.
"Oh, right, incognito. You don't want her to know you still like her or something?" Cooper patted his friend on his shelled shoulder then propped his head upon his paw, resting his elbow on the table. "I ran into Carmelita…"
"Oh no!" Bentley looked mortified. "She's here now?"
"Oh man," chuckled the thief with an airy sort of glee. "She's got her paws full; I doubt we'll be seeing any of her until after this next move is long in the past." Sly offered an award winning grin, raising his brows to accent the casual look of happiness. It put Bentley at ease, which was the whole point. "Just do what you do and I'll do what I do best and you don't worry yourself about her."
"What did she say?" Bentley finally decided to ask after a short moment of quiet.
"She was being kinda' weird, really," Cooper admitted with a shrug. "Maybe she's mad that I've got nothing on my name right now."
"Well, no, you're cleared of everything except for that Ruby from Bombay," Bentley reminded but the turtle was quickly cut off by Sly putting a paw up. "What?"
"I don't have it. She does. She found it in her office today. Ironic huh?" Sly offered a wink to his friend, then shook his head slowly. The smile disappeared and Bentley knew there was a downside to his afternoon story. "I was going to make her sit down to lunch with me, but the strangest thing happened. A group of guys ransacked the place, claiming to be looking for me."
"What?" The tortes looked perplexed. "Why would anyone be looking for you, besides her?"
"I don't know," admitted Sly, offering his friend nothing more than a shrug. "We kicked their tails, though. It was kinda neat to fight alongside of her again. I won't deny she's a real knockout," Cooper said, making a pun at the end. "At least, I'm sure that's how those 8 rats feel, right now. I left her there, trying to force information out of them."
"But Sly, who would want to wait for you at a Café? And furthermore," Bentley groaned, "Who in the world knows that you always frequent that café while you're in Paris?"
"I don't know, Bentley," Sly mused, "Someone who either knows me well or has been watching me for a long time."
The window-office above the Peoples Republic Bank was well illuminated. So well in fact, that the luxury chair behind the desk, adjacent to the window, was only seen as a silhouette. The afternoon glow made it difficult to discern any details beyond the heavy mahogany desk at the far end of the office. Two men stepped in, adjusted their ties, then approached the desk.
Slowly the chair by the window began to rotate and yet they couldn't really make out the being's face who sat within the comfortable confines of the expensive business chair. "Did you bring me Sly Cooper?" Race and even gender were nearly impossible to discern.
"Unfortunately sir," The first rat started.
The second one continued, "It seems as though he's already working with Inspector Carmelita Fox, my liege." They both drew silent.
"She's suspended. She's not a cop; you should have had your men SHOOT HER. I was trying to use Sly Cooper as bait to lure her HERE, so that I can personally shoot her, but by all means, you had the chance," Said the boss from his or her office seating. "This is an intolerable setback, gentleman," The mysterious whispered voice said loud enough for them to hear. "Since you've lost her, continue with the original plan. Bring me Sly Cooper. She's the only person in Interpol that threatens my operation. The sooner she's out of the picture, the sooner we can proceed. Get this done immediately. The longer you procrastinate, the more I get upset."
The two rodents backed out of the office, slipping through the office door and shutting it behind themselves. The shady being grinned, reaching for his telephone. The phone was lifted from its cradle and a number was dialed.
After a moment of pause, the voice came again, this time with definition, speaking into the receiver. A masculine voice noted, "Yes, this is the Secretariat General of Interpol, after reviewing the file of Miss C. M. Fox, I've decided that she needs to be held accountable, completely. Find her and put her on a plane to Prague." A moment passed, then the Interpol head placed the receiver back into the cradle, only to lift it again and dial a different number.
This time, the Secretariat's voice was feminine, "I've decided to handle this personally, Sire. I'll bury the Inspector and anyone else who may be a threat to our operation. No, my Sire. The new Hate Chip has already been completed. We're ahead of schedule. Now all that remains is tying up the loose ends in Paris. Inspector Fox and anyone close to her will be out of our fur by the end of the night."
After finishing the short conversation, the phone was replaced upon its cradle and the voice returned from feminine to masculine; a finger was mashed down upon the callbox on the edge of the desk. In a low, calm voice, "The rats have failed. Bring in The Wolf. Wrap this up by dawn tomorrow morning." The mysterious being released the PA button, sat back in the chair and smiled.
Enshrouded by darkness, the only visible aspect of the Secretariat General of Interpol was a dazzling row of teeth. 'The Wolf' never failed. He was too much of a freakish enigma to lose. He was the ultimate predator of the night.
Carmelita shook her head slowly. Night had fallen and now she had just enough information to move to the next part of her case, to get her badge back. She had to sleep well so she could be at the top of her game. They worked well together today. Surprisingly, they complimented one another's moves.
It was like those stupid Tarot cards said, when she was Romania, going undercover as a gypsy to capture a killer, last month. She asked one of the gypsy girls that allowed her to live for a week in the Kumpania caravan. A vurdon, or 'wagon', became her home for 7 full days.
The Tarot reading was especially odd, speaking of her life of success and achievements, then mentioning Sly by referring to him with the spouse card, followed by challenge and loss. Then there was something about an iniquitous ruv, the Romanian word for wolf, followed by another loss and challenge card. She got something about a number of pentacles card, inverted, and a measure of uncertainty. Everything said so far fell into place and made perfect sense, except for the weird one about the wolf loss and challenge bit.
When it was time for the last card, the Gypsy paused and told her, "This is the last card, my child. It will be the answer to how your life with this Klepto-phral (brother thief) will end. Will it be love or hatred? Will it be happiness or sadness? Will it be death and challenge or will you move on and forget about him one day?" She gave a cryptic smile then placed her thumb upon the top of the deck. "Let us find out shall we?"
Carmelita was literally on the edge of her little wooden stool, a step away from heart attack if the lady didn't hurry. Suddenly there was an explosion and Carmelita was called to action to stop the Romanian kingpin killer. He was a murderous drug smuggler that she wound up capturing. But she never found out what her last card was. The reading was never finished. Her future was unknown. The handsome Ringtail was unknown.
Sly Cooper. The way they fought side by side today almost felt natural. She recalled back on it as she moved to her bed, slipping beneath the covers. She was already struggling for sleep not to take her, her body winding down quickly. Her recollections continued to reflect on the day's events but the distortion of her fantasies already begun to cause things to play out differently.
She turned from the thug in that office, whirling around to see Sly Cooper still stood behind her. He was a dumb thief to not have taken off. She placed her paws up against his chest and slammed him up against the wall. The hitman scampered from the room, quickly trying to get away from her while her attention was distracted.
She caught a fleeting glance of his departure then gazed back to Sly against the wall, narrowing her eyes even more. Her right paw slipped to her belt and her trusty gear was missing so they slipped into the inside jacket pocket of her coat and freed a pair of handcuffs instead. She flipped one end over his wrist and the other side over her own. Now they were attached.
"Sorry Sly. The key is back at my office. Now I know you won't get away," She told him. Outside of the dream state, she rolled over and hooked her left paw around a pillow, pulling it close to her chest.
Sly put his foot up against the wall, pushing forward, so that they crossed the tiny, 5 foot office, so that now her back was to the opposite wall and he offered a grin. "Sorry Carmelita, I guess you won't be able to get away from me."
Carmelita, ever resourceful, reached her leg between his, then glided her ankle behind his own, pushing forward on his shoulders. With her foot behind his heel, he fell backwards to the floor. The chain of the handcuffs brought them toppling over together and she placed one knee against his chest, far enough up so that her knee brushed the bottom of his chin. "You were saying, Mister Ringtail?"
"Don't you remember what I said about Lemur's earlier?" Sly grinned up at her. "This is a very compromising position don't you agree?"
"Yes I do and yes it is," She replied with a smirk. But Sly wasn't as useless as she initially thought. He reached his free paw up, touching her pressure point which, in a way, tickled as well. It caused her to buck her hips away from his touch, putting her just off balance enough that he was able to flip her over, onto her back. And now his weight was upon her body.
"If you do not get off of me right now," she warned; her eyes narrow and her fur beginning to bristle. Her sentence was continued but not by her.
"…Then you'll surrender to the superior crime catching abilities of Constable Cooper?" He whispered into her ear. The hot breath that caressed that furry lobe oh so sensually, caused a shutter to ripple through her spine. And the way he said 'surrender', it was … she had no words to describe it, even to herself.
"Is this a training session?" She chuckled, raising her free paw to clutch at his sweater.
"No, it's a strip search," He replied with a joking air. The dream melted through the scenes into the next state of mind… desire. The dream had progressed to a point now, where things were beyond playful flirting any longer. Fingertips sifted through the sapphire locks of her hair and she gazed up at him with a feral hunger. His heated touch was powerful. He owned her now and the sensual bliss of fur to fur had the two partners shackled together with more than the throes of love.
Clothing had been deposited all about the room, except for Sly's sweater which hung from his arm, unable to remove it due to the handcuff on his wrist. The sweater hung from his wrist, lying haphazardly across the floor, but it was long since forgotten. They moved against, upon one another, and it captured her mind, heart and will.
They moved together, now, in joys of love and adoration, no matter how their history was up to this point. With an age old rhythm, the two lovers were now joined as one, writhing sensually, erotically. Passions boiled and the sensual lovemaking lasted for what seemed like hours. She was undulating with the surge of his body. Her legs quivered, her heart fluttered, her paws were shaking from ecstasy.
Her eyes fluttered shut and that's when everything stopped. A weightless sort of vertigo filled her stomach. She pried her eyes open, her jaw gaping at the grim mosaic of sanguine splashes that covered the office wall. Sly was pinned to the wall with a massive metallic feather. Beyond the door, a glowing ruby hue emanated from above and below the door itself, filling the room with just enough dark light to terrify her.
Her eyes returned to her lover and his lifeless body stared back at her with a cold, foreign, accusing glare. What truly terrified her was when his muzzle dropped and his tongue rolled out. And yet, words tumbled forth of that velveteen tongue tip, "You killed me, not him."
"No!" She gasped, turning for the door. She turned the knob and kicked the door wide open. Her heart froze and her body crumbled with fear. The rest of the café was gone. She was at the edge of a cliff, with a sea of sanguine vitae bubbling beneath. Inches from the edge of the door, a waterfall of blood dropped into infinity and she couldn't even see the bottom. Her terrified gaze lifted and there, in all his malevolence, was the massive Clockwerk, two stories in height, missing one feather.
"NO!" She exclaimed, reaching for her shock pistol. It wasn't there. She had been suspended. "Why did you take him from me!" She exclaimed in anguish. A massive talon-filled claw reached forward and snatched her from the tiny office that floated above the waterfall. Glancing back at it, she realized the cascade of bloodwas from none-other than Sly Cooper. The sheer drop beneath her would have been instantly fatal.
"I will end the Cooper line! And his death is not the end of his seed! YOU are!" His massive rumbling voice fell upon her ears from the behemoth beak upon his head. A talon sunk into the flesh of her torso, beneath her belly. "The seed of the Cooper Line must not be allowed to bare fruit from the loins of any chosen female. And therefore, you must parish!"
Carmelita sat up quite suddenly, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. She was paralyzed with fear, clutching the down pillow to her chest, tears streaming over her furry face. Sly was wrong, today. He said it didnt involve him but instead, her. But he was wrong. Somehow, she wasnt sure just how yet, but somehow, this all revolved around him. Again. Somehow, she knew she had to go to Prague, not for herself, but to save Sly Cooper. She wasn't sure how she knew. She just did.
Bentley shifted his weight from his spot inside the safe house in an office above the Convention Center. The second floor above the 3 day technology Expo wasn't quite finished yet, but enough construction had been completed that Bentley needed only to wire his gear in through the bundle of wires that ran along the far wall, down into the floor, leading through the ceiling of the first floor, down into the main part of the convention center.
There was a small office in the corner of the large second floor area, that already had walls. A window on the far end was slightly ajar, so that Sly could get in and out of the safe house area. Bentley had been watching his progress through the wireless transmitter in his binocucom.
The tortes leaned into his microphone and said, "Sly, you're almost looking at it." Sly, out in the field, brought up his communication goggles, zooming in on the building across the city. Bentley cleared his throat. "Now remember, this processor might be running a government server but this chip is really the replacement for the Hate Chip, to be used in the rebuilding of Clockwerk."
"Right," Sly replied over the transmitter, "You'll have to show me how to dissect this computer. I've not skimmed through many computers. The Processor you made that I have to replace this one with, is not so easy when you don't have as much computer experience."
"Not a problem, buddy," Bentley continued, "I just can't believe Clockwerk has managed to develop his own cult of worshipers."
"Yeah, I know," Sly sighed, "People seem to think anyone that can live for more than a few measly centuries is immortal and worth their time to worship. I just hate how Clockwerk's following seems to be comprised of the most freaky chaps throughout the globe. And I thought the Klaww gang was bad."
Bentley nodded in agreement. "Right! So, let me know when you're inside. We'll go from there," He added, then shook his head, reminding Sly, "It's going to be a little difficult without Murray but without his powerful pummeling of the security servers in the city of Marseille and Lyon, you'd never be able to get into this building in Paris!"
"Yeah, pal, I know." Sly glanced left to right, then put the binocucom back into his rucksack. He placed his foot upon a high tension wire then shifted his weight. The lithe raccoon dashed across the tension cable, jumping forward and throwing his legs over himself in a somersault. With a gracefully executed landing, Sly touched down upon the roof and sprinted across it.
Pulling free his infamous hook, Cooper held it out, capturing a small metallic cylinder, using it to swing around, facing back towards the way he came. His legs lifted into the air in the middle of the quick maneuver, then he used his gathered momentum to kick in the heavy metallic vent that was welded in place on the roof. Graceful as ever, Sly continued the entire tour de force in one swift motion.
Unhooking the infamous cane, Sly slid down into the shaft, riding the diagonal ventilation system on his tail and the rubber roller specifically built into the backpack he was wearing, using body English to control his speed and course. He sifted to the right, taking a fork in the tunnel, to head towards the high security section. He lifted his staff and waited until just the right moment to hook the tip through a maintenance hook used for repair men's safety belts.
His body relaxed and yet his paws tightened, to better absorb the shock of the iminant stop. The anticipated caesura was followed by a sudden grunt. Sly then put his feet outwards to keep himself in an anchored position. He reached his hooked staff outwards, pulling the vent cover off the air duct register, pulling it up to himself at an angle and hooking it on the same metallic stub that he'd used to stop his sliding, a moment prior.
"All right, Sly," Came the call from over his communicator radio. He had a small bluetooth wireless earpiece in his ear, hooked up to his binocular communicator. Sly lifted the goggles just a bit, reaching them down into the opening of the room, so Bentley could see without him compromising his position in the vent duct.
Bentley pondered in silence for a moment, then his voice came back over Sly's radio. "It's going to be tricky. Don't touch the floor. You'll have to find a way over to the computer machine, you can stand on that. We'll get the case off and get the chip out, but you can't let anything touch the floor."
"I'll figure something out," Sly said with a hint or promise before closing the channel. Sly unshouldered his backpack that he'd brought with him and opened the top, pulling out a hookshot and bracket mount. Quickly and stealthfully, Cooper mounted the hookshot to the register then fired it across the room. He re-shouldered the backpack with a grin.
The powerful spring loaded trigger caused the metal rod to lance out and slam into the opposite wall. The raccoon gave a tug on the cord then latched his hook around it and slid down the line. His feet kicked outwards, catching the top of the computer target before quickly bounding atop of it. "I'm on the computer. What's the plan?" He asked into his radio.
"All right, Sly," Bentley chuckled in a giddy way over the communications patch. "Use the backpack. Flip the roller up and you'll see a small quartz eye. Hook the strap of the backpack with your staff and lower it down to the side of the computer case. I'll activate the laser from here, then just move your cane so that you can use the backpack laser to cut a hole into the side of the computer box. I'll guide you in from there."
"Right," Sly said softly, doing as he was told. He used the hook to lower the backpack parallel to the computer's metal case. With the grace of a marionette puppeteer, he moved the hooked so that the backpack's laser eye could cut an inverted trapezoid hole into the side of the case.
"I thought we agreed on a circle," Bentley grumbled.
"Oh let me have my fun will ya?" chuckled the thief with a grin. The piece of metal fell inwards, sliding down inside the computer case with a dull muffled 'thunk'. Sly lifted the backpack up and pushed the rubber roller back down over the laser eyelet. After that, he shouldered it once more and leaned over the side, laying across his belly. His paws slid into the hole he'd made, which was wider at the top than at the bottom.
"Next?" Sly's voice was only slightly stressed sounding, from laying across his chest with his arms extended downwards. His paws followed the guiding words of Bentley over the radio. Gloved fingers moved with grace across the textured components of the computer, staying away from the ones that Bentley told him not to touch.
The tortes sounded like he was trying to contain his excitement. It was obvious the poor little guy was on the edge of his seat. "When you get to the bottom of that one, you'll feel a gap. You have to reach down into that, cup the square piece with your paw, it's about the size of a fist, then pull while pushing down on the metal clip besides it, with your other paw. Wait until I give the word!" Bentley cried at the end, to remind Sly not to act until told.
After just a moment, Sly could hear his friend pushing buttons form his side of the radio. He placed his paws on the large fan and heatsync that was connected to the chip, his other paw went to the latch and he simply waited. The computer beeped twice then went through a shut down sequence. As soon as it went silent, Bentley's voice returned to the radio.
"Now! Quick!" he exclaimed. Sly followed the instructions, pushing on the latch and pulling on the fist sized processor with his other paw. He pulled it free into his right paw, keeping his left in place, then stashed it into the up-side-down pouch sewn into his backpack. He reached to the pouch below the first one, pulling out the replacement processor and put it into his teeth.
"Right!" Bentley said, adding, "Now put the white gel onto the flat side, but hurry. You're running out of time before the computer reboots itself! Make haste, Sly!"
"Relax," Sly muttered softly, focusing his concentration on his mind and body. Placing the chip into his muzzle, he reached back into the backpack and pulled a small tube of paste free, then cut the side of the tube open by rubbing it against the edge of the hole he'd made in the metal case. The raccoon grinned then retorted, "Haste makes waste, remember?"
It worked perfectly, slicing the tube from the opposite end. He gave it a squeeze, making sure to get the goop on the bottom of the processor in his muzzle. Sly replaced the paste tube then spit the processor back into his paw, using his thumb to spread the gel across the flat surface of the computer chip. Once that was done, he jammed the replacement chip into the empty socket, released the latch, then swiftly pulled his hook back down and put it into his teeth. Freeing another gadget from one of the inverted sewn pouches in the knapsack.
The little gadget was sort of boxy shaped. It had two parts. One side was a rubber cup-shaped piece, the other was a metal telescopic arm with what looked like a pen attached on the end. One of Bentley's neat little inventions, for sure. While he worked, the computer began its restarting sequence, booting up with the new processor. The basic specifications were the same, but it was designed with Cooper Revenge in mind.
Attaching the rubber suction attachment onto his staff, Sly lowered the end down into the hole he'd made, pulling the trapezoid cutout back up to the hole. While holding it carefully in place, Bentley used his computer back at the safe house to extend the arm from the attachment. It followed the line across the top of the trapezoid hole, using the pen to apply a thin layer of super adhesive glue to the cut mark.
Once the trapezoid shaped hole was sealed, Sly tested it out by tugging the suction cup attachment hard, until it popped off the metal piece. The metallic cutout stayed in place. Sly removed the gadget from his cane, putting it back into his backpack, then took his staff into his teeth and began to climb up the cable, paw over paw, until he reached the vent.
Cooper pulled himself into the air register, then dismounted the hookshot from it's spot in the corner of the vent. Pressing a button on the cylinder-shaped weapon, Sly squinted his eyes as the harpoon cable was reeled in so hard that the end was never given the chance to fall to the floor. Once the hook reached the gun muzzle, it impacted with such a velocity that Sly toppled over. "Umph!"
Packing the hookshot away, Sly replaced the vent back over the duct entrance, then pulled out the final gadget that was packed away. Suction mitts. Gloves and shoe covers that were fitted with suction cups. Sly began his upward climb inside the vent, heading back for the roof.
"So," Sly grunted, while he worked, "Tell me again how this chip is supposed to work, when these slugs take it for Clockwerk?"
While the raccoon scaled the metal shaft, Bentley replied over his radio, "It's simple, Sly! The plan is to smuggle the chip in, through the government and put it in a special server that would be used to run some new Interpol gadget. I think it's a PDA that allows them to tie in to other police mainframes."
"Go on," Sly chided, while working his way up, passed the forked split that went up towards the roof, but led down to either the server room or down to the rest of the computers that were in a far more general room, below the other vent duct.
"So they take the computer offline for network maintenance and swap the chip like we just did. Then they put the new Clockwerk chip into this super techno geek who's a Clockwerk worshiper! He's in charge of rebuilding Clockwerk with the new hate chip," Bentley explained.
Sly balked, "So the guy in charge of repairing Clockwerk is a nerd? I thought you said his followers were all tough? Anyway, sorry to interrupt, continue with your explanation.
The tortes grinned for a moment, then continued. "He's a techno wizard. He built himself a mechanical bodysuit and when he fights, no one is left standing at the end. It's even protected against Electro Magnetic Pulses, some how. So anyway, when they put in the chip we just stuck in that machine, Clockwerk's days of vengeance are finished. I've loaded an apoptosis command into the chip, so that when it's put into Clockwerk, it will cause him to destroy himself, one mechanical component at a time."
"Genius Bentley, absolutely brilliant," Sly chuckled, finally making his way to the roof. He took out a signature raccoon-shaped blue and white business card and tacked it just inside the metallic duct, before climbing up onto the roof. "All done, I'm going to head back to the... wait a minute."
"What's wrong?" Bentley asked over the radio.
Sly coughed, pulling his hook staff to the ready. "I've got company."
"Carmelita?" Bentley asked.
"No, some guy... a wolf." Sly narrowed his eyes, giving the staff a twirl. The lupine lifted it's large paws outwards, causing shadowy tendrils to lance outwards, wrapping around Sly's neck and legs, snatching him from the rooftop and holding him in the air. "Nghh! Bentley, this guy is some sorta supernatural freak!"
Suddenly Sly was slammed back down on the rooftop with a long groan that drowned out Bentley's radio reply. The fiendish tentacles of liquidy shade gripped each of Sly's wrists now, pulling them apart, holding him there. The Wolf approached, taking a punch at Sly. The powerful left hook caused Sly's body to slump a bit.
The manacle, maniacal arms of the abyss seemed to emanate from Sly's over moon-lit shadow, coming out from beneath his feet. They shifted down to his legs, capturing his waist, to keep him standing. The wolf moved about behind sly, walking about him in a circle for a moment, just sizing him up.
He wiggled a clawed finger at Sly with a grin. One of the astral arms of pure gloom seemed to slip into his pack, obfuscated from even Sly's senses. It stole the hate chip with such ease that Sly never even realized it. The Backpack was then lifted from his arms, tossed to the ground.
The veil of inky ebony wrapped around Sly's muzzle, to keep him silent. He couldn't even breath through it. It was like drowning in tar. The shadow appendages lifted him back up into the air. He could see across the rooftop. It's grainy surface was like looking out across a sea of black diamonds.
He felt weightless for a hint of a moment as the rooftop raced upwards to meet him again. The tendrils of shade slammed him back down into the grainy surface again. He struggled but was unable to retain his consciousness, fleeing to the safety of slumber. The stolen anima of Clockwerk was placed into the wolf's pocket and Sly's zonked body was tossed over a shoulder.
The binocucom was pulled from Sly's pocket, stuffed into the bookbag then the wolf picked it up and heaved it off the side of the building as far as it could be thrown. Sly was motionless. Shallow labored breathing was winnowing from his snout. The Wolf leapt from the rooftop, six stories up.
Shadows reached out from beneath vehicles that were at rest beneath various street lights, as well as from the darkest of nearby alleyways. It captured the timberwolf, aiding in his descention to the ground. Once the lupine's feet touched the ground, he began to run, carrying Sly's unconscious form out of Paris.
A/N: Now we're starting to understand poor Carmelita's Lament. She's lost her badge, her favorite obsession and now she's loosing her mind. She can only bemoan her losses. The only hope anyone has is for her to break through her growing depression and rise up to overcome her losses and best them. With every romantic dream turned ghoulish, she has to struggle with her nightmares and the loss of sleep is about to start catching up with her. What will happen next? Who is this arcane, esoteric wolf and how does he have the ability to harness a tangible shadow? All these questions and more, to be answered... later! Stick around... same Sly Time! Same Sly Channel!