A/N™: Here we go! ACT 3! The final cluster of chapters. This one will start slow because I've got a ton of information holes to fill and a foundation of future action chapters to lay. I think I might take it out to about 9-to-11 chapters. Somewhere in there. Not sure yet. I've been known to write stories that average about 14-16 chapters. We'll see!

By the way, I'm putting the main bulk of the author's banter at the bottom today because I felt chatty and wrote a lot of blathering for some reason. hehe

As you'll remember my explanation of The Lambada when naming Act2 after that dance… it can sometimes be notorious for ending with a sudden shift-and-grind on the last dance step, which can make the dance climatic and exciting at the end of the measure. Buwahaha. To be honest, I had planned to have a short, flirty, romantic moment but it didn't happen because of my mood and because that's the way the muse wanted to take me when I was writing… So, is Sly really dead? What's going to happen to Carmelita? It's HER story, after all! Let's find out, shall we?

And to those of you who Private Message me about the stories and my writing… THANK YOU! Like I've been saying… I love when you people email, Instant Message or PM me. I'm a chit-chatty person. I love to talk to people even if they haven't read my stories, and even if they dislike my stories. Heck, I've got friends who can't get into my stories at all, or may only just like one out of the 7 that I've got posted. It makes no difference. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion :D Yaw'll can probably tell I love to talk because I keep putting these silly Author's Notes™ in here to talk about the price of tea in china.

Now, enjoy, my lovelies… I've kept you on your toes with the last chapter and the scare! It's time to see where that all leads! And why! And how Sly's upcoming vision will play into the rest of the story! And introduce a new villain! I think I'll throw one in, somewhere, for good measure. I wonder how I'll incorporate that into the story… It was a suggestion from a reader who emailed me… lol. Btw, I got silly with the trademark™ sign just because I can :D I originally just used it for "TramTrain" because I made the name out, as opposed to like, amtrak lol. Then during the editing stage, using Fan Fic's editor thingy, I just pasted it all over like a retard. :) I don't really do it that much in the story, except for "hate chip" once or twice, hehe... and where it's supposed to be in TramTrain lol.

K-dawg.™

Act 3: THE FINAL DANCE™

Chapter 8: Confetti™ at the Devil's™ Parade™

Murray glanced out the window of the high speed train. He was inside of a tunnel watching as the hind end of a passing train disappeared from his gaze; his eyes now reflected the rectangular white lights that flew passed, which lined the interior of the tunnel. He swallowed down a bit of saliva to counter balance the feeling of his ears popping then glanced down at his hands.

"Next stop, Downtown Prague. The Hlavni Nadrazi station is just minutes from Wenceslas Square. Thank you for riding TramTrain ™." The words were repeated several times in Russian, English and finally, his native language of French. Murray stood from his seat, picking up a backpack and shouldering it over his left arm. He couldn't help but note that several people were staring at him with a narrowed, untrusting gaze.

One of the people eased their shoulder out so that he accidentally bumped into them in passing. "Oh, I'm really sorry, pardon me," Replied the hippo as he made his way for the door. With one last glance over his shoulder, he realized that everyone was still watching him, and an uneasy shutter crept into his chest.

Stepping off the train into the dank streets of Prague, Murray continued through the train station and headed for the streets. "These people may not seem like they fear 'The Murray', but there's no reason to fear them either," he reminded himself. His courage returned quickly and his confidence was resolved. It was time to find Sly.

"I'm here," he said aloud, to nobody. Soft snowflakes fell from the sky, having previously layered the world in a fresh coating of virgin snow. Lamp posts had little white cone-shaped hats and automobiles were covered, looking like mere square-shaped lumps down each street lane. At the end of the extremely extravagant and well-lit boulevard was a prominent statue of King St. Wenceslas, upon his horse. On one side of the boulevard there was a Museum and the State Opera.

People came and went every which way, enjoying the night life that the massive square had to offer. It could easily hold up to half a million people but this time of year there were only a few hundred shoppers. Many were simply walking, to various shops or other random destinations, through the softly falling snow. Murray's eyes cut from left to right before settling upon a fairly large building half way up the block. He may not have been the most intelligent man on the team but he certainly knew a bank when he saw one. After all, he was a driver; it was his job to know what a bank looks like, especially when in a hurry.

"Excellent," Came the radio reply over Murray's earpiece. "From here, you're going to head straight down the street you're facing. This is the main thoroughfare in this part of the City. Lucky for us, the Bank is only a brisk walk down the road. I lost contact with Carmelita just a few minutes ago; it was the strangest thing. I heard arguing and speaking and someone told Carmelita … well, it's nothing I want to worry you with now, but there was a gunshot and her earpiece internal microphone diode was blown out, so now I can't make contact with her."

"I'm on it, lil' buddy! You can count on 'The Murray' to get the job done and rescue Sly!" The hippo cried, breaking into a light jog. He continued to tell himself that the cold didn't bother someone with super strength, even though it only took a few minutes before he couldn't really feel his toes.

The turtle shrugged, sounding leary."Just remember, we're rescuing Carmelita, too. Not for us, but Sly would want that. She was supposed to be the one helping him, so I hope you can help them both!" Bentley said over the binoc-u-com with a sigh of worry.

It only took several minutes to reach the Bank. The wind was picking up and the soft snowflakes were swirling on the wind's breath. The heavens began to offer an addition to the precipitation that felt more like iced pitchforks. The soft pellets of hale caused the infamous getaway driver to pull his driving goggles over his eyes. "I'm here," he announced proudly.

"We can't get you in the way that Carmelita got in, we're going to have to try a different tactic," Bentley said. "While I was in their network, earlier, with Carmelita's help, I deactivated their external and main security alarm on the back door… but it's still locked and bolted. I'll need you to bash it in and go in the back way!"

"There isn't a job that can't be handled with my brute strength!" Announced the hippopotamus, who slipped into the alley, heading alongside the building. A rattle from a nearby dumpster caused him to glance over his shoulder, gazing half way down the dark corridor. He squinted through his snowflake covered goggles and said, "Hold tight, Bentley. No witnesses, just incase I'm being followed; a job must be done." The alley was a decline, running downwards parallel to the building's side.

"It might just be a homeless bum; make sure you're not being followed then get on with the Bank," Bentley advised, reaching a hand up to push his glasses further up his somewhat beak-shaped nose.

A being appeared from the darkness, picking the entire dumpster up with only his left paw. Murray couldn't quite tell what species he was in the gloom but could see the outline of his stance. The character was down on one knee, with his other leg spread far apart, to get the balance to lift the massive, cumbersome object.

"That's pretty impressive," Murray noted, putting his fists up. He knew it was go time. The dark wolf-shaped silhouette chucked the dumpster forth. Murray was quick to dodge to the left, knowing that there was no way to simply catch something like that. He squatted his knees, leaning back as if he were pushing his mid-back against a set of turnbuckle ropes then leaped up into the air, holding his limbs outstretched.

His thunderous belly flop connected with the beast, flattening it into the snow. He then lifted his right arm, upon standing up and punched the ground to try and shake the dark being off it's feet, but it didn't react the way most physical bodies would have. He was inches from the being now and still couldn't see what it was.

A quick jab was delivered to Murray's gut causing him to grunt but he returned the favor, throwing his fist forward. It sunk into the shadowy object, passing right through it to his horror. "What?" The hippo exclaimed, trying again. His fist passed right through the shadowy figure. It quickly gave him a shove to put distance between their stances and he stumbled back, putting his fists back up for another round.

A gunshot was heard, emanating from a window about three and a half stories above Murray's position. The shadowy beast lurched backwards, clutching its forehead. It sunk to its knees causing Murray to tilt his head in surprise. The being struggled to stand up, obviously not dead yet. Not wanting to waste any time, Murray pounded a bulging pink fist into the opposite palm then immediately clapped his palms together, causing his fists to erupt into flame.

It was a trick he'd learned at a magician's theater, run by a Hollywood illusionist, while on vacation between jobs a while back, when the Clockwerk parts first went missing. The man he learned it from was part of an effects team on a Hollywood production staff, that Bentley and Sly helped him become apart of, shortly after Rajan the Tiger went into hiding (A/N: Sly2 Band of Thieves).

The shadowy figure had no face and its ghostly form scurried away from the flaming fists which illuminated the alleyway with a flicker of light that seemed to lick up the brick walls. Murray tucked his fist back then offered forth a wallop of an uppercut. The fiery connection caused the shadow to dissipate quickly, vanquished by the blazing deliverance of fisticuffs.

Once vaporized, Murray shook his head in disbelief then opened the radio channel and said, "I don't even know what that was; some sort of magic maybe? I heard another gunshot from above, so I'd better hurry."

"Right!" Bentley exclaimed. "Sly and Carmelita are most likely in trouble. Make your way to the back end of the building. You'll need to break in the door!" In reply to Bentley's excitedly-voiced order, Murray dashed around the back end of the building and slammed his weight against the door. It was a solid fireproof steel door. Even a round of pulverizing punches did little more than dent the door on the outside.

Finally Murray grew frustrated and slammed his right fist into the brick wall adjacent to the door. The bricks crumbled, giving way to the plaster and support beam beneath. The rotund man delivered another punch to the crumbling material, then shut his eyes for a moment, reflecting on the teachings he'd learned from his training with the guru, in the past.

Murray, with his eyes still tightly clinched, drew his arms back and thrust his palms outwards, smashing down part of the wall. He stepped into the opening and wiggled a bit to get his back end the rest of the way through then turned to the door, once he was inside, and unlocked the metal bolt with the daintiest, most innocently child-like of motions.

"…ah… Right!" Bentley said, wasting no time to continue with his instructions. "Now, head to the other end of the room; there should be some sort of heating and air conditioning machines on your right! Just keep going and you'll see a set of stairs further ahead. Sly and Carmelita SHOULD be on the third floor! You're on the first sub-floor so you need to go up four flights of stairs."

"Right!" Came Murray's dramatically boisterous reply. He wobbled down the hall in a loose sprint and then took the stairs, heading upwards to the first floor, which was level with the main street in the front of the building. No sooner did he get to level one, the door to the stairwell burst open and three night-security guards dashed in, all facing Murray.

There was no time to act; while they were probably responding to the gunshots that were heard over the security detail's audio system, Murray knew they weren't on his side right now. He drew his fist back then clocked the first poor slob to come through the doorway. The sound of a gun was heard, clattering across the tiled floor, falling down the last set of steps with a metallic clattering noise.

Murray grasped the paw of the first dazed cop, swinging the dog around in a full circle. The hippo had the canine cop in a tight grasp by the officer's furry wrist. The swing came full circle until his body collided with the next cop who was bowled backwards. The third one leapt over the body of the first two, leveling his gun at Murray, who grasped the cop by his uniform shirt, lifted him up and quickly power-slammed him back down upon his shoulder blades.

That cop's gun was ejected from his paw, noisily skittering across the floor. Pummeled by pistoning punches, Murray was quick to ensure that none of the three cops would get up. He did this without causing any serious harm.

"Murray, grab one of the police radios and press the button. Say,'Come in dispatch, this is officer john doe. We've checked on a possible disturbance but everything checks out.' Make sure you read the name on the badge of one of the cops so you can give a name over the radio, so they don't ask; try not to sound conspicuous."

"Officer John Doe, whose name is on the badge, right!" Murray said into the binoc-u-com, grabbing one of the unconscious cops and looking over the name on the front of his uniform before grabbing the radio receiver on his belt. "Dispatch, this is uh, Parker, here. Thee uh, possible disturbance checks out, we're going to go eat some donuts okay? Bye!" Murray released the radio receiver button and tossed it onto the guard's chest, heading back for the steps.

"This is dispatch, Sergeant Parker. Just couldn't handle that low-carb diet, huh? Copy that; possible disturbance was checked out, roger that. Enjoy your pastries, Parker; I know you always do."

Bentley cackled over Murray's radio channel, "They fell for it! Ha-ha, suckers! Hurry to the third floor, Murray!"

Carmelita's eyes opened and she slowly hazed back into the world of consciousness. Everything slid back into focus for her and she blinked up at the ceiling a few times, trying to get her wits about herself. For a moment, she couldn't remember why she was kneeling here, with her legs asleep under her body.

Her muzzle lowered and her gaze came across Sly's body. Her stomach iced over with a shutter running down her spine.The vixen turned her head away slowlyand gently eased his broken form to the floor, scooting away from it. She was going to be sick. He was dead. This wasn't a dream. Sly was silent and the earpiece didn't seem to get a hold of Bentley; she simply felt alone.

Inspector Fox didn't even hear the footsteps behind her. The voice that came next startled her. "He wasn't dead when you pulled his head into your lap… but he faded just moments ago. Only a Miracle can save him now. As theAlmighty Father of the GreatLion born of a Tigress once said…. 'Thou shall not steal.' You had best pray for Monsieur Cooper. I have to wonder if there's a place for a master thief in the afterlife."

Carmelita narrowed her eyes, glancing over her shoulder at Karla. "He stole from those less deserving. I don't condone it either, but I'm sure the Creator sees in more colors than simply black and white, like I do. If He has the power to make us as complex as we are, then I'm sure He's far more complex than us, in every way. Leave me be."

"I need him alive," Karla said, holding back a snarl. "He's the only one who can fight Sire. Sire's body is of a typical mortal man. I can't even fight the pretty-faced lion while he's unconscious. Sly's life has only just faded, shortly after you fainted, so there is still time. His mind is not dead. I demand that you take him to the Laboratory. I'll distract Steven, you get whatever you need to save him; I know cops learn CPR and stuff. Revive him. Do it, don't hesitate. He has less than 15 minutes. I'll work on the skunk. Now move."

Carmelita stood up, taking Sly's body and hefting it up over her shoulder. "Why, I do believe you're only helping me for your personal gain."

"Don't be so 'black and white'," Karla said. "I'm helping you to help my self, but I'm helping you instead of finding someone else to help, for my personal benefit. Now get going." With that said, her form disappeared, fading away to nothing.

More confusing shades of gray. Carmelita carried Cooper's body, with some semblance of renewed hope, towards the Lab. She didn't have time to dispatch Sire's unconscious body at this moment; time was precious.

Love or not, hate or not, Carmelita had a duty as a police office to the life and wellbeing of those she had to protect; law breaking or not. She continued to tell herself these words, while heaving him down the hallway. The massive swath cut into his lower back didn't help her nerves, however.

Sly opened his eyes. He sat up and yet there was no pain. The master thief glanced around the area in confusion. "Hello?" The world around him was dim but not dark. His question reverberated back to him but he didn't see any objects which would have provided such an echo.

"Sly?" The raccoon turned about. He recognized the voice but it was one he'd not heard in a great deal of time. There was nothing physically discernable that he could tell. The familiar voice spoke once more, calling Sly's attention. "Sly Cooper, do you remember this voice?"

The word rolled off Sly's tongue before he could even think to put his mind behind it. "Dad?" He turned around again, then stopped, face to face with his father. Sly put his left paw over his chest and then lifted it to cover his mouth in shock. Seeing his father was impossible… unless, of course, he was… "Am I dead?"

"Your body has given out on you, son. But this is a meeting ground you might call 'Limbo'," Sly's father explained. He approached the raccoon and placed a paw upon Sly's cheek, looking him over as if he'd not seen the boy since Clockwerk's attack, when Sly was a child.

"I can't be dead. I've not continued the Cooper line!" Sly said with a sigh. His father touched his palm to the younger raccoon's shoulder, drawing him into a subtle hug. Sly bit his lower lip for a moment. If he was dead, he didn't act quickly enough in life and now the Cooper name and bloodline was gone. "Can't something be done about this? Dad?"

"Listen, I don't have long, Sly m'boy," He said, patting his son's back before releasing him from the fatherly embrace. "I've seen you defeat Clockwerk multiple times, protect our vault and history. I've seen you do things that never cease to impress me. Mom's proud of you and so are your grandparents from both sides. Just know that nobody blames you for what happened."

"Are these guys really to blame for ordering Clockwerk to come after us?" Sly asked, folding his arms across his chest.

His father offered a compassionate smile but held a serious tone. "Remember, Sly. Everyone answers to somebody else. The key to taking one man out is to eliminate the man he answers to. You break the chain of command and before communication can be reestablished, you'll have had your chance to sink your target. We're proud of you, Sly." To Sly, this meant that the only way of finally ensuring Clockwerk would never return was by destroying those involved with his construction in the first place: Steven and Sire.

"But what about Carmelita? Is… was she the right one?" Sly asked.

"Only the two of you can answer that," Said the older man with a witty grin. "You're tougher than pain, don't show any weakness. Actually, I've never seen you show weakness, Sly. To defeat Sire, you need to learn how to not fight him. The stronger your will, the stronger he is. Trust your instincts, son. Oh, and one more thing. McSweeny really turned out to be a good guy. He turned out to be the man I trusted during my heists with him. I appreciate what he'd done by telling you about the Cooper Vault and I'm even more thankful he waited until you were ready to learn about it. Tell him you heard I wanted to thank him for all he's done after my passing. He'll know why when he looks in the mirror."

"I thought I've died?" Sly asked thoughtfully. "How do I tell him for you?"

"As far as Carmelita," Said Sly's father was a soft chuckle. "You can't see what I can see right now, because you've not completely passed yet. I love you." With that, Sly's world began to grow dark; fuzzy. For the flash of a moment, he could see the outside of Prague, from high above the bank building. He could see the old compound where Contessa used to make her prison, and he could see soft flakes of white dropping about himself.

"Dad?" His words sounded empty as if they were muffled in his own ears. Suddenly, pain lanced through his lower back and he felt a pressure on his chest as if Murray, the group's burley get-away driver, was standing on his ribcage. "Dad?" he asked again.

"Trust in your instincts. I'm proud of you, Sly." The words seemed far away and yet they were calmly spoken and full of admiration. Sly suddenly felt a jolt of pain in his chest and yet the most tender, loving sensation upon his lips. His eyes fluttered open and his heart jumped, nearly out of his chest, gazing up into the soft amber orbs of Carmelita Fox.

She lifted her head, breaking the lip-lock connection. She looked flustered but it was obvious that she'd provided him with the breath of life. It had been a startling long time since their lips had met in such a way and a flood of warmth filled his chest, regardless of the pain in his back.

"Don't… don't do that again," She said, drawing herself back to give him space. He lay on the table of the Laboratory and sat up slowly, wincing at the feeling of the gash on his lower back. It wasn't a fatal wound, in and of itself. It was, however, a hard enough strike to have stopped his heart; she saved him and returned the favor for all the times she was the damsel in distress.

Sly pulled up into a full sitting position then just stared at her for a moment. She blinked awkwardly as if to ask, 'What?' But the word never passed her lips. Sly gave a slight grin, trying to ignore the pain. He finally rebutted to her expression with, "Every time I come to Prague, anymore, I wind up behind bars and I wind up having to save you."

"Did you just say what I thought you said? Save me, huh? I'll remember that, next time I have to scrape you off the pavement after a fight with those freaks. Remember, I can hardly hear in one ear, so speak up, Cooper," She noted, trying to show that she was irritated with him. The angry tone, however, was not in her voice. She wasn't convincing and Sly responded with a smile.

He nodded at the reminder of the fact that she'd had a gun go off just inches from one of her ears then tilted his head slightly. "Just remember one thing, Carmelita. If I didn't do anything," Sly reminded her, "You'd have a hole in your head instead of your ear…" he trailed off then lowered his head, glancing up at her, furtively. "I'm glad you're all right."

"I've never seen you upset before," Carmelita admitted off handedly. "What brought that about, anyhow?"

Sly frowned, looking away for a moment. "He ordered the death of my family and the attacks on my family members at the talons of Clockwerk, time after time, far back into my family's personal history," Cooper said, then thoughtfully added, "But losing you is beyond my comprehension. It was a reflexive instinct to keep the innocent from harm."

"I'm far from innocent, this time. I've never broken a law in my life and yet, here I am to try and rescue you," The vixen muttered sourly. She offered a vituperative swear under her breath, then turned away, laying her ears flat. "You owe me, Ringtail."

"Carmelita," Sly whispered softly, directing his voice at her good ear while sliding his legs off the side of the workbench. Behind her, Clockwerk's empty gaze looked on. The massive, metallic owl wasn't finished yet; his body was there in pieces but there was no mind, no glare, and no response. As odd as it felt to have the upper half of the body and head sitting there, literally taking up the entire wall from floor to ceiling, Sly knew it wasn't a threat.

"Don't you dare 'Carmelita…!' me, Mister Sly Cooper!" She exclaimed, turning back to face him with her paws on her hips.

"I just wanted to thank you for risking your life for mine, it's a first but it's refreshing," Sly said, offering a light yet playful smile, leaving Carmelita to attempt looking vexed again. She approached Sly, placing her right index finger against his nose, narrowing her eyes as if she was about to deliver a lecture.

Before she could react, Sly leaned forward, tilting his head. She saw what he was trying to do and jerked her head back, so that she left him outstretched, looking to make contact. Her lower lip quivered for a moment, just gawking at him. She blinked then slowly shifted forward, easing into the gap between their lips. Why… how could this feel so right? She nearly lost her job for this man. She nearly lost her respect for this man. Now she was nearly losing her self control for this man.

Her eye lids began to lower, simultaneous to closing the gap between her soft pallid flesh and his own soft tiers. Again, she realized in the back of her mind that her lower lip was quivering in anticipation of what was about to transpire. She was his polar opposite and he was magnetic, beyond her means. Her iron will was bent and in this moment, she wanted nothing more than to melt into this kiss.

She could feel his whiskers brush against her fur from their proximity. She could feel his hot breath caressing her trembling lower lip. Both pined so very deeply for this moment. Both of them had secretly fantasized and dreamed about this moment, whether it be in nightmares or daydreams. .There was just centimeters between them and this beautifully anticipated action.

"Steven is coming back, let's GO you too!" Cried Karla from behind them. Carmelita had been so lost in the moment that was about to happen, that she literally gasped to stifle a startled scream. She turned her head from Cooper, whirling around to face the half-breed.

"Why are you still helping us?" Carmelita snapped.

"C'mon now," Chintzy chortled in delight, seeing how well she ruined the moment for the two of them. "Not all supernatural beings can be evil. We have small scale political societies just like everyone else. Just like we have spies whose only task is to infiltrate those of our kind that cause terror. Now get out of my sight and take down Sire before he has all of us on a plate."

Carmelita's smirk evolved into a grin, hearing how Karla turned a drawn out explanation into a terse way to get straight to the point at the end of her statement. "You're making me hate you a little less. All right," She added, turning to Sly and hooking her thumb. "Let's go… How's your injury? I bandaged you up as best as I could."

"I feel like a made man," Sly mused, picking his cane up from the table. He pointed at the back door, then nodded to Carmelita. As much as he was disappointed that Karla ruined the moment, he knew he could manage it again if he played his cards right. He played off the sudden rejection with his usual, candid demeanor. "See you in the back hall." With that, he lifted the cane, sliding the hooked end through one of the cable drawn hooks that was currently out of use, for putting Clockwerk together.

He struggled to pull himself up the line, then glanced back at the two women. "Go on, scram ladies. I'll be all right, I've just got to get something done before I leave this room; stop worrying about me."

Sly put his foot into the crane hook rung, then used his cane to pull himself up into the rafters and disappeared from their view. Carmelita narrowed her eyes then pointed to the back door. "Let's move."

"Suit yourself," Karla replied, facing Carmelita's now-partially deafened ear. The vixen didn't hear what the Felox said. Chintzy's form faded from view, leaving Carmelita alone. The vulpine cop turned to see the woman's body fluttering out of existence and grunted softly in reply. Carmelita shook her head then made a dash for the back door. Up in the rafters, Sly sat in the corner, behind Clockwerk's massive head, staying out of view.

Murray stepped into the hallway of the third floor. Up ahead, he spotted a door that was wide open. His curiosity got the better of him and so he approached it, peering down the next hall. His face contorted into a look of displeasure, seeing a man dead in the hallway. There was a bullet between his eyes. Another wound was spotted on his right shoulder and left paw.

There was a thick stain of blood a few feet away, in the carpet and another bloodstain further up the hall, in front of an oddly placed jail cell which had an open slide-gate on the front. A pistol lay on the floor in the middle of the hallway, a wisp of smoke still emanated from the end of the barrel. The room smelled strongly of gunpowder and death.

"Eww," Murray groused, turning away from the hallway and heading back into the main third-floor corridor. "There's a lot of blood in one of the hallways, and some guy has bullet holes in him, but no sign of Sly," He reported over the radio.

"Roger that," Bentley said, shaking his head over the tiny Binoc-u-com screen. "I just intercepted a communication from the leader, who calls himself SIRE, to a supernatural assassin named Reaper. I don't know if he even really exists. He's always been hailed as a Kaiser Sozé to keep the apes in line; scary reputation, if he's real."

"Aww geeze," Murray said in reply. "More bad guys, I don't know how we're going to even the score."

The tortoise nodded in agreement. "You know, evening the score might just be what we need, I'll see about getting Penelope's help. Find Sly and Carmelita. I'll let you know what the plan of action is when you find him, so I have time to crunch numbers and figure out the best probability is on different possible plans. "

"Get Sly and Carmelita," Murray replied, adding, "You'll talk to Penelope, right. What about Carmelita, she's a cop!"

Bentley scoffed. "She's also been placed on 'International Fugitive, shoot-to-kill' status; she's in just as much danger as the rest of us are! Make sure you tell her this; she won't become a liability if she knows she has no choice but to help us; I just don't trust her." Bentley shrugged, there was no justification for his feelings toward Inspector Fox, other than pure business. They were thieves and she was a cop. At least he could plainly see that Murray was behind him on the trust issue concerning the vixen.

"Okay, I'll tell'em," Murray said, heading down the next hallway. From around the corner, Carmelita dashed into the hallway, nearly slamming right into the burley hippo. "Carmelita!" He exclaimed, blinking several times. "Where's Sly!"

"Being his usual stubborn self," She said in a scolding tone.

"Bentley says we've got to find Sly, together if we can, but I don't exactly trust a cop to help us, even if you're a wanted fugitive now, with orders against you to shoot you on sight. But I think I can make an exception for you if Sly can accept you."

"That's… nice to know, wait, what!" She balked. "Shoot to kill orders! I'm a fugitive? How? I've not escaped from prison, I was simply suspended!" She exclaimed, immediately enraged. "These pompous jerks are ruining my life's work, this is my career! They're making this personal!"

"Bentley also says your earpiece thing was damaged from a gunshot. Oh," Murray suddenly paused, noting for the first time, that the side of her ear was matted in blood, with a clear hole going through the tip of one ear. "Ow, how did that happen?"

"The people who are trying to kill Sly are trying to kill me, too," She said, hooking her thumb back the way she came. "Let's go find Sly and figure this whole thing out."

A woman's voice asked, "Have you ever wondered how he's going to get out of here?" The feminine inquiry was one that caused Sly to frown. Karla Chintzy. She might not have been evil but she was certainly not earning her keep by bugging him.

"Have you ever wondered," Cooper retorted with a casual air, "If they don't care that the roof will be ripped off when Clockwerk stands up for the first time, if they succeed?"

"Of course. I can't quite figure out how they brought the wings in through the office door," She chuckled in rebuttal, "The lab has a high enough ceiling, but there's no way to get the wings in, that I can see, unless it's one feather at a time."

"It's not my concern, they're here so they need to be destroyed," Sly said, returning a soft chuckle; one that mimicked her own. She responded with an annoyed expression. "Besides," added Cooper, "These parts won't matter for what I have in mind."

"I already know what plan you have in mind," Scolded the half-breed Felox. She reached out to pat Sly's cheek. "Report to your little turtle friend and let him figure out how to level this place."

"Why, I didn't realize you knew me so well!" Sly chided, then suddenly grew quiet once the door down in the corner swung open. The raccoon tilted his head, moving to get a better angle on things. He climbed down the side of Clockwerk's empty neck, putting his cane into his muzzle, to use both of his paws.

Out of the corner of Sly's eyes the master thief raccoon could see the skunk glance up at Clockwerk, from his spot in the doorway. Steven proceeded the rest of the way through the door, helping Sire limp into the Laboratory. By the time the scientist's gaze had lifted, Sly was already gone, having climbed up inside the hull of Clockwerk's empty neck.

Inside the fuselage, there were rivets where future equipment would be welded to the interior, later. He wiggled up into the head and peered out through the empty glass-tempered eyes, watching Steven take Sire to his work bench and help the lion up onto it.

"Your little friends were just in here," Steven told the lion. Sire's soft cobalt irises lifted, gazing right into the intelligent skunk's sea-green hues. "That's right," Continued Steven, "Sly Cooper was most likely revived right on this table after Karla lured me out by telling me that you're injured. She had the ability to teleport your body but didn't; she's on my list of suspects, now. But Sly's body is not laying around, so I'm pretty sure the vixen was successful in waking him."

"This is a guess on your part?" Sire said, reaching a paw to his chest where he'd had one of his ribs broken. The injury occurred from being thrown at the wrath of Sly's cane.

"Have I ever been wrong about my guesses? I'm not a fortune teller," Steven mused, adding, "I just call it as I see it." The skunk patted his older friend upon the cheek then folded his paws behind his back. "Karla is still a child compared to us. She simply doesn't realize who she's dealing with. Although, I am surprised that a mere mortal cop was able to end Donovan Loupe's un-life."

"They're going to take their war to us, next," Said Sire with a nervous sigh. "We don't have the physical fortitude that Donovan had. This is going to boil down to one thing: Finishing Clockwerk ahead of schedule, so we have replacement muscle."

"He's already awake," Steven said, tilting his head. The skunk's tail rose up a bit, curling at the end, just behind his back. Sire's expression changed to one of slight surprise, just as the hidden Sly Cooper gawked in shock.

"What do you mean?" Sire asked, glancing over Steven's shoulder at the empty hulking upper frame of Clockwerk. He didn't see Sly hiding up behind one of the eyes at this angle.

"I've not outfitted his body yet," Steven said softly. "I have, however, got his brain running with the HateChip™ replacement. I'm downloading his memories back to his mechanical brain. I'm a few hours from total completion. Their biggest concern is to escape with their injuries, regroup and come up with a fresh plan. I'll be finished by then."

Steven paused for a moment then said, "They'll have their smartest members come to Prague and meet up with the group after advising the ones on location to set up a base of operations here in the city. I'd estimate about 10 blocks away. They'll be looking for ways to destroy the building without coming back inside and risking their lives again. They're quite a predictable 'gang'."

Sly shook his head. Karla was sitting on the outside of Clockwerk's metallic head. She whispered into one of the hearing ducts that would later be used for an ear. "They expect us to retreat. But maybe it's the best idea. If we could just sabotage Steven's work, it'll set him back long enough to let us do that."

"Why don't you teleport the Clockwerk brain and HateChip™ out the door and I'll take it back to Bentley?" Sly asked, bemused by how simple the suggestion sounded.

"Steven has it hidden. If I can't see it, I can't manipulate the object, physically," She re-explained.

"Right, right," Sly said, nodding slowly from his spot inside of Clockwerk's head. It felt so awkward and ironic in a way, to be inside the head of Clockwerk… his arch nemesis. His family's worst enemy. "I don't think retreating is a good idea. I'll need to find a way to contact Bentley and see what he thinks. I don't care what kind of genius he is, I doubt Steven is really smart enough to guess Bentley's next move. That turtle is unpredictable and this guy doesn't even know our team, to begin with."

"Don't underestimate," Karla said, through the small metal vent leading into Clockwerk's hollow head.

"Don't over-praise the bad guys, we've had our share of victories," Sly replied. "I'm going to climb out of here, and I'll try to do it without being seen. Then I'll go downstairs and maybe find a phone line out so I can contact the team… I need to find out wherever Carmelita has run off too, as well," Cooper mused.

Karla grinned at him, peering in through the metal slats in the side-rear of the large metal cranium. "Here, let me help with that." And with a mere thought, Karla teleported both Sly and herself out of the room and into the next hallway over. Low and behold, they now stood directly besides Inspector Fox and Murray. Both of them blinked at the sudden appearance of Sly and Karla.

Murray was the first to speak. "Bentley said to contact him when I found you both. I'll put the Binoc-u-com on speakerphone!"

"Wait," Karla said, putting her paws up quickly. "Let me get us all outside. There's too much security here." She lifted her left paw and waggled her finger as if she was conducting a symphony. With each pass of her finger, another member of the group disappeared until she was the only one left. She then faded from existence as well, reappearing on the rooftop of the bank, standing with the other three.

Heavy snow fall poured from the heavens, swirling about them like a musical water-filled globe that was shaken too hard. The bite of the bitter cold brought a sense of urgency and dramatic reality to the serene scenery. The harsh snow rained about them like confetti at the devil's parade. A blizzard was in the forecast. Bad for Sly's gang but good for the possibility of innocent bystanders, as the inclement weather would get people off the streets. Murray flipped open his Binoc-u-com, which began to collect accumulation almost immediately.

Bentley's voice filled the area almost immediately and the group of four huddled around to hear him speak. The tortoise told them, "I've been crunching numbers. I believe I have found the best probable success rate in a plan that involves Penelope and myself. I'm already packing for Prague. I suggest we evacuate, fix up the injuries of those that have them and regroup. That should be our best bet!

"I'm going to try and make it out there and bring Penelope with me. If I leave today, it should only be a few hours by high-speed bullet train. If we can help even up the score, then that's just what we've got to do!" Bentley exclaimed. "Get out of there and locate an abandoned building about 10 blocks or so, from the Bank. We'll make that the safe house and I'll come up with a plan on how we can level this bank without having to go back inside of it, if possible."

Sly's jaw dropped. Karla ribbed the raccoon with a smirk. "See, darling? I'd rub it right in your face, but a simple 'I toljda so' should suffice, Monsieur Cooper." She reached to pat his cheek. Carmelita approached them both, snatching Karla's paw by the wrist, to keep her from touching Sly's muzzle.

The two women locked their gaze for the moment. Finally, Carmelita just grinned, releasing Karla's wrist. "I think we have an understanding here, Miss Chintzy. Are we clear?"

Karla smirked in reply, returning a dramatically pleasant-toned answer. "…As crystal, Inspector Fox."

A/N™: Sorry this was long and lacked major action. Like I said earlier, I had to set stages and stuff, here. I decided, just this once, I should be vague with my foreshadowing... just let you know that something will happen in the future (like calling in The Reaper) instead of having someone make a fore-shadowy comment or something.

So... Some of you have followed me from my StarFox stories and you already know how I write because I've talked about it before.. I can't tell you what's about to happen in this chapter or the next one because I have NO IDEA. Honestly, I usually close my eyes, turn on some music, tune the lyrics out and vibe on the rhythm. Then I just type. I open my eyes and follow the words as they appear on the screen. I'm reading it for the first time, just as if I really was reading through it. I have no idea what's going to happen next. That's why chapter 7 came so SOON after chapter 6… I was on the edge of MY seat, trying to find out what was going to happen next, my fingers just danced on the keys… I wrote without conscious thought. I simply dictated what was going on in the back of my mind. The front of my mind reads it in awe, if it's good… or I might be turned on, upset, saddened, heart broken, or a bundle of emotions at the end of the chapter….. then I put on a video game and blow stuff up so I can relax :D

My pal, Destructor, says "some writers would love to get inside your head to see what makes you tick." Heh, it's not that much, honestly. I was on a webcam with a reader the other day; I had on a sideways ballcap, I'd taken off my tie from work, my shirt was open, I was piddling with the keyboard with my left hand, with an occasional "lol" or "XD" or whatever, and twirling a drumstick in my right hand, while chewing gum. I'm as normal as they come, if not just a tad geeky! I laugh real loud, I cuss when my video-game character gets killed. I've got 3 kids, I'm a divorced single dad; 25 years old and I like to BS (Bullcrap for those of you not familiar with the acronym) on the phone, same as anyone. I've also been asked how I find the time to update 6 (out of 7) stories several times a week… here's the super secret measure I go through to get these chapters finished… I write at work, and let people think I'm merely a mediocre salesman. XD

Just thought I'd share that, lol.

Finally, I am still playing sly 1, 2 and 3.. I'm not finished any of them. I bounce back and forth between them… In Sly2, I just got to Prague, with the Contessa. Interesting! It inspired a line in this chapter, where Sly says to Carmelita, "Everytime I come to Prague… I'm locked up behind bars and have to save you!" lol. I took the characters to Prague a few days before finding out that Prague is a level in the games. Like I said, I just write and if a confliction comes up, I work around it by suggesting that a conflicting statement made in the past might have been sarcastic satire or I might just try and work around it so that it SOUNDS like it was consistent all along… heh. I had Carmelita and Sly meet up in like, what? Chapter 3 was it? And there was NO mention about how awkward they must have felt since this was a "post sly3 story".. then I find out that Sly and Carmelita (SPOILER WARNING™, Don't go any further unless you want to know!) are dating at the end of the game... So lord knows, I had to come up with this elaborate explanation about how she just bit her tongue back in chapter 3 and tried to stay business, but now it's eating her up, so she had to bring it up to him when they met again, in the recent chapters… slick maybe, clever possibly, but the fact is… I was just covering up an inconsistency as I came across it. :) I'm tickled that nobody said anything about it, because now I can make it sound like I meant for that to happen. Hehe. That's just how I roll. I type something up, re-read it, find the mistakes, fix THOSE… and post the chapter. I'm almost done Similar Paths Taken's C11 and Reflections of Peppy C2. Woot.