Where is He?

Hamburg, Germany-2000hrs

"We don't know where he is!" Murray yelped, taking another punch to the face.

"I'm going to ask you again politely," Emile grunted, his face red with anger. "Where on the mother f'in world is your mother f'in leader?"

"We don't know!" Bentley yelled. He was replied with a blow to the head.

"I didn't ask you!" Emile yelled. "WHERE IS HE?"

Everybody seemed to cower in fear, even though they had been strapped down and left to the mercy of their captives.

"Emile!" Yves said over the intercom.

"WHAT?"

"I think I found something."

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Paris, France

Since the Police Ball, this was their third dinner. Sly couldn't help but steal glances at his companion whom, when he wasn't looking, she'd sneak glances at him. Already gossip was going around that their supposed relationship was progressing quickly, and in ways, it was true. Carmelita loved Sly, though she was having difficulty accepting it. Every time he smiled at her, looked at her, kissed her, there was a strong sensation that would increasingly build up. And she would pack it down deep inside of her.

"Hey Carmelita?" Sly asked.

"Yes?"

"How close were we before my accident?" Sly asked.

Carmelita didn't know how to answer that. "Close somewhat I guess."

Sly gave a tiny smile, resisting the urge to lean over across the table to kiss her. He also wanted to say something else, but it felt that it was too early in their relationship for him to say it.

"I love you," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" Carmelita asked, having not heard what he had said.

"Nothing," Sly said.

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Hamburg, Germany

"I found this," Yves said, bringing up a file on a large projection screen.

"So? It's Cooper's record," Emile grunted.

"Okay, I did some more searching right?" Yves addressed. "But this time I also searched the data banks for those working under Interpol…"

"Gimme a W-T-F!" Emile interrupted. "You mean to tell me that you think Cooper's working for Interpol? I believe the story of him dying more that your theory, after all, they could've mixed up the time."

"That's true," Yves consoled. "But explain this."

Another file came up, one on a constable. "When constables first get on the force, a file is made of him. It says that this one Constable Cooper was on the Paris division for over three years."

"So?" Emile grunted. "So his last name is Cooper, it could be a coincidence." But Emile had a strong feeling that it wasn't.

"But look at when his file was made," Yves said, pointing to a date. "This guy was on the force for close to four years, yet his record wasn't even made until a few weeks ago, and at least three days after you saw him on Kaine Island."

"The bastard is alive!" Emile yelled. "And now he's got nearly an army's worth law enforcers behind him…"

"There is no way we could possibly get him," Yves said. "There's already a manhunt for us starting from snatching those two nerds from Statendam, nabbing a respectable officer from the ranks of Interpol would be suicide! He's next in line for a promotion! He never leaves his partner's side, or the other way around…"

"Who is his partner?"

"Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox…" Yves said.

"AHA!" Emile whooped. "THAT'S HIS WEAKNESS!"

"His…wha?" Yves asked, flabbergasted by his own confusion.

"Sly Cooper is has a thing for her," Emile said. "If anything, those two could be dating. We nab him, she'll be on us like fly's on a horse's ass with back-up, but if we nab her, he won't risk getting her hurt…"

"Ingenious!" Yves applauded. "Hold on, let me bring up…aha! Got her address."

"No," Emile said in a low and serious voice. "We need to make this not look like a kidnapping. Tell Modock to acquire me an ambulance with Paris hospital markings…tomorrow, we strike."