Sly Cooper: Armed and Dangerous Chapter 14: Everybody Dance Now!, a sly cooper fanfic

(A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while everyone! Well, this time I decided to go for something I haven't done before, and put a song in. It's Rock This Party by Bob Sinclar (YES that's how you spell it!) I'll try and write more often in the future! Again, sorry to keep you waiting!)

Sly Cooper: Armed and Dangerous

London, England

8:49 pm

2 days after Paris job

The city of London appeared to be built out of gold, thanks to the lights as darkness fell. There was a certain subject of importance that was wafting through the British nobility, criminal and legal. The party was being held up in the penthouse suite of a hotel named The Golden Swan, and anyone of importance in London, whether political or industrial, was there.

Lars Shuker, sitting behind a podium on a small stage, looked over the large room, which held over some forty people. Classical music played softly from the speakers in all four corners of the room, and wine, brandy, and other fine alcoholic drinks were lined down one table, while food and regular drinks sat on another, on the other side of the room. Shuker smiled to himself, stroking the moustache and beard he sported. His brother had never wanted to grow any facial hair, content to simply stick with tattoos.

'And now look where he is' said a small voice in the back of his head. Facial hair, in Lars' opinion, always did seem to make a man seem more innocent.

Suddenly, the rat sat up straighter and rubbed his wrists, feeling the .30 caliber revolvers hidden in his sleeves. The newly appointed Chief of Police, Bernard Price, a middle-aged ram, was being pulled aside by one of his men, as well as a 20 pound note exchanging hands. The ram listened to the mobster, then nodded, and both started over towards where Shuker was sitting. The rat allowed himself a quick smile to himself, then stood up, a neutral expression on his face. The mobster escorted Price over to the stage, then excused himself and disappeared in the crowd.

Shuker offered his hand, which Price shook, and said "Chief Price, it is an honor to have you at my-" The rat gestured to the room. "Small event. I have an offer that I wish you to hear. If you will please come this way."

He indicated a small door behind the curtain at the back of the stage, and Price nodded, thinking 'Christmas bonus, here I come.'

While this was happening, a certain turtle in a wheelchair, two floors down, was typing rapidly on a laptop, with a certain mouse looking over his shoulder. Bentley opened the transmission network, then said "This is Wizard, testing connections. Report."

"This is Mohawk, I'm moving into position, over."

"This is Shadow, I'm almost done with the wires."

"This is Long Range, feeling ready to throw up at this music."

The last transmission came from a wolverine in the penthouse, in the audio control room. It was all he could do not to change the music. '

I HATE classical' he thought to himself, grimacing as he changed to another classical CD.

"Focus, Long Range. You got the CD in your pocket?"

Julio grinned, briefly placing a hand over the round shape in his pocket.

"You bet I do!" he said, trying to keep his voice down.

"Excellent. Where's everyone else?"

"This is Tank, the 'catapult' is ready to go."

"This is Star One, our 'friends' are taken care of."

"This is Grim Reaper, I have our distraction loaded and ready to go."

And finally, "This is Star Two, no new info found, repeat, no new info. Looks like this job goes down either one of the paths you boys predicted."

Bentley grinned. It was about time a job worked out the way it was supposed to.

Back on the penthouse floor, a horse in a white tuxedo jacket, black slacks and shined ebony shoes pushed a food cart down the hallway. The double doors into the penthouse were guarding by only one person, a wolf in a black suit with tinted glasses and a radio wire coiling out of his ear and down towards his pocket. A bulge from under his left shoulder suggested that this man was obviously not hotel security.

Marty nodded toward the cart he was pushing, and the wolf returned the nod, stepping forward to begin his search. Before he could, however, Marty had pulled a stack of hundred pound notes from inside his tuxedo. Lifting up the dish cover on top, he exposed the black tuxedo jacket concealed underneath, then pulled back the lapel of the jacket he was wearing to expose his own shoulder holster, which was empty. The wolf eyed the holster, then nodded again, taking the stack of bills and opening the door as soon as Marty had replaced his jacket lapel and the dish cover. The equine winked and walked through the door, smiling to himself.

As soon as the door shut behind him, he muttered "This is Mohawk, the Horse is in."

He wasn't only talking about himself, but also about the cart. No one seemed to be paying him any attention, so Marty quickly pulled the cart to the wine table and ducked underneath, grabbing the black jacket. Quickly, he shed his white jacket, then unfolded the black, exposing the Desert Eagle, as well as the two clips with it. Sliding the pistol into his holster, he slid the clips into the back of his waistband, then pulled on his black jacket. Poking a hand out, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the table, then pulled the hand back, pulling out the cork with his teeth. Taking a few swigs of the drink, he poured a bit more onto the white jacket, then messed up his clothes a little bit, splashing a drip or two of the alcoholic drink onto his white shirt under the jacket. He then took on a bewildered expression, crawling out from under the table and standing up, teetering, still holding the bottle. This way, it would seem as though he was simply a guard who had snuck away a little too much drink. Once he appeared to have gotten his bearings, he leaned against the table, looked at the bottle in his hands, and took on a crestfallen expression, shaking his head as though disappointed with himself, placing the almost empty bottle on the table.

"Okay, Mohawk, enough with being tipsy. Shuker's finishing up his meeting with Chief Price. A little bit sooner than expected, but it looks like we've got no choice. Open the Horse."

Marty nodded automatically before forgetting that Bentley couldn't see him. He turned back to the cart. He would have to work quickly. Even now, Julio was loading in the new CD. Almost all the songs on there would seem to be regular Classical, except for the last one, which would be the signal.

Marty quickly grabbed a detonator and a set of night vision goggles disguised as sunglasses from under another dish cover, then concealed the former in his jacket, meanwhile poking two fingers under his shirt to make sure that the Kevlar vest underneath was tight on his body. Then he turned around, slipping on the glasses. He couldn't see very well, since it wasn't dark at all. All he COULD see was a field of green. No shapes, nothing. But he could still hear. He could hear the music changing. Instead of pianos and flutes, he heard the strumming of a guitar and the bouncing of a keyboard.

Now!

He quickly pressed the button on the detonator. Ten feet up, hidden in the chandelier, a plastic explosive activated. In all the other lights, other explosives came online. Marty didn't waste any time, and mashed down the second button, just as the song started. Above the explosions as the lights all blew out, panicked screams, and a sworn oath from Shuker, you could hear the words of Bob Sinclar.

Me seh me waan see everybody on move
Dancehall ino
Dollarman coming at ya
We just waan big up Cutee B
Bob Sinclar
It's a dance thing, yuh see me
It's the way just bounce
Yeah
Everybody dance now!

Let's go!
Whoo!
Let's go!
Rock, rock, say what, rock
Let's go!
Everybody dance now!

Marty could see Shuker, thanks to the night vision glasses, and he snarled, rushing forward, drawing his gun. Unfortunately, he wasn't used to the glasses, and his aim was off. His first shot went wide, and his second planted into the doorframe about a foot from Shuker's left arm. The rat ducked back into the room he had just come out of.

"Dammit!" growled Marty, dashing forward.

Rock this party
Dance everybody
Make it hot in this party
Don't stop, move your body
Rock this party
Dance everybody
Make it hot in this party
Everybody dance now!

The music wasn't really necessary, but Marty had wanted to slap Shuker in the face before he took him down. It would be a double blow; ruining something Shuker had most probably spent months preparing and then killing him. His security wouldn't be coming to help him, since Carmelita had already dispatched them all during a shift change. All except the wolf, who was now walking away from the doors, smiling and thumbing through the stack of bills, which, unbeknownst to him, were all counterfeit. They had contacted him a few weeks earlier with an offer, and he'd accepted.

As Marty dashed through the door, he caught a brief glimpse of Shuker scampering into an elevator, flicking his wrists as he did so. Catching the gleam of gunmetal, since the lights in this room were still on, but dimmer than they had been, Marty rolled to the right as two shots cut through the music.

Don't know what's on your mind
Yuh come fi have a good time
Me waan yuh wine your waistline
Me waan yuh shake your behind
I'm in a dancing mood
Gyal and I'm feeling good
This is my favorite tune
Put on your dancing shoes
Gonna mek yuh feel so good tonight gyal
Me gonna mek yuh feel alright

Marty pried open the elevator doors, looking down the shaft. Seeing the elevator only going down one floor, Marty fired two more shots, then let himself fall onto the top of it as it came to a halt. Opening the service hatch, he dodged two more shots, then let himself fall through, prying the doors open again and slipping through. He was in a dark bar, which looked like it had been unused for a while. He could also see Shuker dashing to a balcony that went around the entire room higher up. He quickly ducked under a table, using it for cover as four more shots came at him, buzzing past like angry wasps. He could still hear the music from the floor up.

I came to rock at this party
Cause I can make you feel alright
Sweet boy, you're rocking your body
I'll get you straight to the night
Oh oh, you want this body
Oh oh, you want it now
Sweet boy, you're rocking your body
Cause I'm gon make you mine tonight

Du du du du
Let's go
Du du du du
Whoo
Du du du du
Let's go
Du du du du du du du
Du du du du Dance! Dance!
Du du du du Now everybody move! (move)
Du du du du Now everybody shake! (shake)
Du du du du Now everybody
Everybody dance now!

Marty slid out from under the table, firing shot after shot up at the rat on the balcony. He had the advantage of being able to see the rat without searching for his muzzle flashes, but Shuker could get better cover. The horse grinned as he heard the distinctive clicks of two empty revolvers. Shuker probably didn't have many rounds on him. Marty's own gun was empty, but he simply ejected the empty clip, shoving in a new one and making for the stairs. It would take the rat a bit of time to reload.

Hangin inna di dance na
Gyal waan test yuh
Don't stand a chance
Gotta look better than then
It's just nice and than then
Hold me tight gyal, hold me tight (what)
Wipe me off! (let's go)
Just dry me off!

He could still hear the music coming through the ceiling. It seemed as though Julio had intentionally turned up the volume. An explosion sounded from outside, way down at the base of the hotel. That would be Mikhail with the bazooka from Paris, blowing apart a few cars to form a barrier to block the police. Everyone would now undoubtedly be heading for the 'catapult' as it was called on this job. It was actually the Cooper team van, ready to go about two blocks away. They had passage on a freighter in Southend that would be leaving in about four hours.

Leaning around the doorway at the top of the staircase, Marty looked down the balcony, immediately spotting Shuker, who was kneeling behind a table that had been kicked on its side, frantically stuffing cartridges into one revolver. The other had been thrown away empty, undoubtedly jammed. Marty grinned and, now used to the glasses, aimed carefully and fired another shot, splintering the edge of the table and chuckling as Shuker jumped. Keeping his pistol up, Marty sidestepped out, gripping the handle with is other hand.

Du du du du
Let's go
Du du du du
Whoo
Du du du du
Let's go
Du du du du du du du
Du du du du Dance! Dance!
Du du du du Now everybody move (move)
Du du du du Now everybody shake (shake)
Du du du du Now everybody
Everybody dance now!

Rock this party
Dance everybody
Make it hot in this party
Don't stop, move your body
Rock this party
Dance everybody
Make it hot in this party
Everybody dance now!

"C'mon out now Shuker." Marty voiced his challenge.

Shuker slowly came up above the table, keeping his revolver between two fingers and his hands shoulder high.

The rat peered through the darkness briefly, then said "So, you're Marty McCoy, hmm?"

Marty saw no harm in answering.

"Yeah, so?"

He instantly saw his mistake. The rat knew his position now.

In a flash, Shuker had flipped his hand, rolling the revolver into it and taking aim. Leaping backwards, Marty fired three shots. One went wide, but the other two smashed into the rat's chest, making his shot go wild. Marty heard and felt it fly past his ear. A fraction of an inch to the right and he would've been able to wear an earring.

He hit the floor and rolled up, pistol at the ready, but lowered it when he saw that Shuker was dead. Sliding the gun back into his holster and heading for the door, Marty plotted out the escape route in his mind. He'd head out to the van, and they'd all get out of here. The song finished playing one floor up.

Shhhh gyal wine and flex (yeah)
Shhhh tell dem seh a yuh a dï best (yeah)
Yuh look better gyal
Yuh look better
Show dem your move gyal !
Show dem your move!

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