Sly Cooper: Armed and Dangerous
Paris, France
6:52 am
Sly blinked, a shocked expression on his face. No one moved. At all.
"Madre y Dios! I'm supposed to be looking at the famous Cooper and McCoy gangs, but all I see is a bunch of ass-brained tontos and a backstabbing bastard."
Sly's ears pinned back across his skull, ashamed of not telling her the truth sooner. Slipping a butterfly knife out of his pocket, he deftly flipped opened the blade, then stepped over and cut her bonds. Not like she was going anywhere.
Carmelita instinctively tried to sit up, forgetting her broken limbs, and a cry of pain rang through the room as Sly gently helped her back down.
"Easy there, Carmelita. You're all but shattered inside. Just lay here and- oof!"
The last part was when Carmelita clocked him over the head with her right hand, sending Sly sprawling onto the floor. When he didn't get up, she smiled, thinking she'd knocked him out, but when he raised an arm and lifted one finger in the direction of the ceiling, she frowned slightly.
"OK, I deserved that and more."
"You don't know how MUCH more, but I'll be glad to give it to you," the furious vixen snarled, raising her fist again.
Marty, Mikhail, and Julio had all drawn guns and were painting bull's-eyes on her forehead in their minds.
Carmelita frowned, then said "Tell your thugs to stop aiming at me. I'm already annoyed and I don't want to- oh DAMN IT!" she yelled as a shot rang out and a bullet hole appeared about an inch above her face.
If she had the power to melt into objects, she'd already be gone. As it was, she could only attempt to flatten herself against her cot, attempting to give them less to aim at. This procedure only came up with less than desirable results.
Julio, although his Buntline revolver didn't have its wire frame stock or detachable scope like he would have preferred, was cocking the handgun again, ready to fire another shot over the vixen when Sly's hand snapped up and knocked the barrel of the weapon aside, causing the next slug to plant itself in the bulletproof window five feet away from where Carmelita lay. Julio also got slapped over the head twice, once by Marty and again by Mikhail. Marty then launched into cursing Julio in Italian, while Mikhail started insulting the wolverine in Russian. Julio could understand them both, and cowered in fear, dropping his gun onto the ground.
This went on for several minutes, until Marty finished with something that, roughly translated, went along the lines of "Don't do that again you sonovafatbitch."
Mikhail kicked Julio in the side, spat something in Russian, then simply stood and glowered at the mass of shuddering fur in front of him.
Marty turned toCarmelita and said "My apologies. We simply drew our guns because we thought you were going to attempt to kill Cooper."
"Don't get your hopes up that I won't." Carmelita muttered.
Marty continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"Sometimes, we do things impulsively. It's the number one rule of living by the gun; don't think, just act."
Carmelita scoffed, then muttered a few curses under her breath in Spanish. Finally, she turned and said, obviously reluctantly, "Apology…accepted."
Marty nodded and said "I'm Marty McCoy. The panther is Mikhail Leonov, and this idiot who tried to shoot you," he kicked Julio again, but not as hard this time. "Is Julio an Raj Benedek."
Carmelita gave the horse a curious look as she studied all their faces.
"How…old are you, exactly?"
Marty sighed, then replied "You have no idea how many people have asked me that. I'm eighteen, my birthday was just a few months ago, Mikhail will be twenty in six weeks, and Julio is sixteen."
"Going on seventeen!" said the wolverine defensively, standing back up and holstering his gun.
Aside from a few bruises and scrapes, he looked fine, as if they did this to each other all the time. The rest of the Cooper Gang looked shocked as they heard the words pass through Marty's lips, with Julio's confirming them.
Bentley was the first to say something, and it came out as "You're-but-uh-WHAT!"
The second person to say something was Sly, when he said "Everyone out! I need to…uh…explain a few things to Carmelita."
The intimidating look on his face made even Mikhail cancel any second thoughts he might have had, and soon, everyone had trooped out, very quickly.
Sly turned to Carmelita, sighed, and pulled up a chair, sitting down and saying "It actually began back on Kaine Island…"
Meanwhile
Across Town
'Slick' Hanz Shuker stubbed out his cigarette, glaring at the beaver standing in front of him. Casually, Hanz pulled out his Uzi, modified with a silencer, stock, and an expanded ammunition magazine. Loading the gun, he turned back to the beaver, looking the gun over like an inspector, all the while pointing it at the frantic beaver in front of him.
"Now," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, his German accent rolling off his tongue, "Why did you fail me?"
The beaver almost instantly replied "It was a mistake, monsieur, a mistake! We never realized that the police hired a mercenary tank until it was too late! We had no way of knowing until it crashed through the wall! We-"
"Silence!" shouted Hanz, drawing a bead on theforehead of thebeaver, who instantly shut up.
The rat narrowed his eyes and hissed "Now, this time, take as many men that you need, other than the guards just outside the door, and try AGAIN. There's a small, uh…helper in a box out in the compound. It should be just coming in. Use it to take out that tank."
The beaver, a relieved look on his face, turned to leave when Hanz said "AND…" The beaver turned back, panic flashing across his face. Hanz continued "I want you to take out a certain Interpol officer for me. She is a relative of Stern, and killing her will put the Chief into depression. Her name is…" Hanz's eyes flicked around the room briefly and he said, in an undertone "Lieutenant Caroline Newkirk. She is British by nationality."
The beaver nodded, but had one last comment.
"What species is she, monsieur?"
Hanz had a smug look on his face as he said "A Black Labrador. The only one on the force. She should be an easy target."
Meanwhile
At Interpol HQ
Said easy target was currently at the gun range, testing a new automatic weapon that was to be put into active use. As each target popped up, another one would appear behind it, but would be thicker, and then a third, but with a bullet proof vest. There was a bull's-eye behind that target. As each row fell, the gun began to get hot, and her ammunition was starting to run out. She was starting to think it would've been a good idea to wear gloves.
Finally, the gun clicked on empty, and she took it down from her shoulder, looking at the bull's-eye at the end with disgust. The shots were all over the place. Hardly any of them had hit the center. Some hadn't even hit the target at all.
A sudden thought entered her head and she pulled another magazine out of her ammunition pouch. Technically, this gun wasn't new, but a remake of the WWII Russian sub-machine gun, the PPSH. Before, it had a 71 round drum clip.
Impressive, yes?
Well, now, consider this; the new version had 137 rounds per clip, all coated with Teflon, making them armor piercing.
Pulling a single round out of the new magazine, the Labrador inspected it, then bit into the slug. Instantly, the taste of copper and Teflon flooded her mouth, and she grimaced in disgust. Taking the round out of her mouth, she looked at the slug. It had bent. The slightest pressure caused the round to change shape, also changing the trajectory.
Caroline sighed, then tossed the round onto the range, pulled off her ear and eye protection, then gave a thumbs up to the operator's booth, signaling the end of the test.
Lt. Caroline Newkirk was in Weapons Research and Development, meaning she not only tested new guns, she created them. However, not all had been going right lately. Her latest experiment had been a failure. She had tried to make a shotgun that could fire a further range, but only succeeded in creating a handheld bomb. One officer had lost an arm because it hadn't been tested before it went into the field. So, instead, she had gone into the automatics department. This was her first experiment in that area of expertise, and so far, it was goingalong okay. However, the heat that the gun made when it fired would definantly be a problem, as well as the modified rounds.
Caroline opened the door to the Weapons Research and Development department, also known as W R&D, and walked over to her portion of the laboratory. Bazookas, grenade launchers, pistols, sniper rifles and automatics were all over the place. Caroline preferred a Spas 12 shotgun and plenty of ammo over any of the other guns. Everyone scoffed at her, saying that the age of scatterguns in warfare was finished, but Caroline stayed firm on her beliefs, whatever they were.
In one corner, another officer watched as a scientist was preparing a shock rifle for testing. They were supposed to be more powerful, have faster reloading, and be more accurate than the standard shock pistol that Interpol used.
Caroline rolled her eyes as the scientist bragged about his weapon to the officer, who looked bored. As soon as she got to her desk and lay her equipment down, she say the note flashing on her computer screen;
See me as soon as you can.
Chief.
Caroline sighed. Why couldn't he just use the term 'Uncle?' That's what he was. She was his niece, and although he was an American, her mother had moved to Britain. She had joined up with Interpol solely because she wanted to be an officer. Had anyone told her she had the brains to become a scientist, she would've laughed in their faces. She never considered herself smart, and never bragged about anything, preferring to criticize herself. It helped her realize her mistakes so she could do better next time.
Caroline rolled her eyes againas she walked back out, heading towards Chief Stern's office. However, before she could get to the elevator that went up to the floor her was on, there was a blur, and a body stood in her way. She stopped short, and had to control herself from putting a look of disgust on her face. Standing in front of her was one of the MOST obnoxious officers in Interpol; Private Leon Richardson. He was a Porcupine that had been trying to get her to go out with him for a year now.
Wearing a smug look, he said "Well, Carol, didn't expect to see you up this early. Or perhaps you came to see someone special?"
His eyes gave away his thoughts as they raked over her body; again. The pervert.
She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and said, annoyed, "Its Caroline, and when you're talking to me, Richardson, you better do it with more respect, because I can and eventually WILL report you for sexual harassment. And I came because this is my shift, and you know that, you damn pin head."
Richardson's eyes flashed with anger, but his attitude remained just as snobby, as he clapped a hand over his heart, staggered back and said "Such ugly language from such a pretty mouth. You wound me, Miss Newkirk-"
"Its just Newkirk to you, slime ball!" Caroline snarled, grabbing a book from a passing officer and using it to push Richardson aside.
How someone like that had been assigned to the Medical Research Center, she figured she'd never know.
Taking the elevator up, her hands balled into fists as she recounted all the times he'd followed her around, always making cracks like that. As the door opened, she found herself face to face with one of her only friends at Interpol; Corporal Lily Michaels. Lily was part of the Pursuit Force, and she did her job really well. She may have been a giraffe, but she could always squeeze into a car without effort, or jump between cars, returning fire at criminals who were shooting at her. Her neck never gave her a problem since she and it were a little on the short side. Obviously, she'd just come out of the Chief's office, because her face was bright red and she looked more than a little huffed. However, on seeing their friends' face, both girls perked up.
"Caroline? I thought your shift starts in-" Lily checked her wristwatch. "Five minutes! What are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing!" exclaimed Caroline. "Your shift doesn't start for another hour."
Lily giggled a bit, then said "I had to come and see if Tim was here."
Of course. Lily's partner, Tim Bronstein, was a shy Jaguar from the North American Interpol HQ. He spoke Portuguese often, his family line's born language, but no one understood him but Lily, who had the biggest crush in the world on him.
Caroline sighed and said "How can you keep up with what he says? I can barely understand him half the time he speaks, and the other half he's talking so fast it takes me a few minutes to sort out what he says."
Lily blushed, then said "Well…uh…you don't need to know." She quickly changed the subject. "So, what are you doing here?"
Caroline sighed again and said "I wanted to test out a new gun. It fires without exploding this time, but the new rounds are sensitive to pressure. Whenever they hit something and go through it, they change shape and go on a completely different path."
Lily shook her head and remarked "See, this is why you should be in Pursuit Force; you know guns, you're fit, you're smart, and you don't have the scientific geeky look!"
Indeed, she didn't. Caroline liked wearing British army fatigues often, which consisted of a long sleeved button up shirt, and a pair of tan shorts. Normally, soldiers would also get a backpack and a helmet, but Caroline simply wore a bulletproof vest underneath and a holster strapped to her thigh.
Realizing she was spending too much time chatting, she quickly said "I need to go. Uncle called me up to his office, and it seemed urgent."
Lily shook her head and said, glumly, "He's real pissed, so don't go the wrong way. Sly and Inspector Fox have gone missing, and he's calling in the best of every department, trying to form a search party. I told him I have trouble at home with my parents, and he goes all ballistic on me. Anyway, good luck!"
She scurried away just as Caroline registered a sick feeling in her stomach. Walking forward slowly, she knocked and said "You asked to see me, Uncle?"
Stern sighed and motioned for her to come in. He never liked it when she called him 'Uncle' during working hours. Shutting the door behind her, Caroline took a seat and waited.
Stern finished signing something, then looked at her, taking off his reading glasses as he said "I don't like being called 'Uncle' here."
"Well that's what you are. Now, what did you call me in here for, other than ancient history?" she snapped.
Stern sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back and said "As you may have heard, Constable Cooper and Inspector Fox have disappeared in the field. Their last known location was two miles Southwest of West Berlin, when they reported in, a few weeks ago, on a raid. They weren't seen or heard from again. I'm organizing a search party. This just may get you the respect you deserve here, Caroline."