(A/N: I believe I must offer my apologies to my readers. The map I had at first used to reference an offload point from the river was incorrect. Monterrey is actually a landlocked city far to the north of Mexico City. As such, the city I chose in the story was incorrect. You have my deepest apologies, and if I could, I would fix this problem.)

Sly Cooper: Armed and Dangerous

Mexico City

4:08 am

The streets of Mexico's capitol were ablaze with lights as cruisers and soldiers of Interpol stormed the avenues, blazing every single space with white spotlights. Cruiser cars swept the way first to stir up criminals, blaring by with sirens full wail, followed by heavy APCs, armed with heavy machine guns and swiveling searchlights, both of which were scouring the shadows. Interpol policemen, dressed in riot helmets and thick body armor and equipped with assault rifles and shotguns hustled behind them, turning over every piece of cover with weapon mounted flashlights. Every single exit out of the city, every street, every freeway, every railroad, and every canal, was locked down by Interpol blockades, halting everyone and anyone who attempted to seek an exit. Even the local police were subject to scrutiny, their tan uniforms easy to spot and their small numbers easy to overcome. Within the first hour of the lockdown, every single Mexican officer was herded into the downtown precinct, where SWAT teams were tasked to monitor them. All officers were given the order to fire on suspicious characters who would not halt after being called out to. So far, fourteen homeless people and five corrupt Mexican officers had been cut down. Wisely, the members of the Bone 'Eadz Gang all surrendered. The only fatalities discovered by he police on that end were inside their casino, the Boneyard, which included their leader, international criminal Muggshot, who would most likely have been given the death sentence for his recent crimes.

Sly peered around the corner, then pulled back as a spotlight danced over his position from above. Interpol helicopters were also thrown into the mix, filled with officers and armed not with machine guns, but radar transmitters to call in reinforcements to any spot in the city. Judging by what he'd heard from passing patrols, the entire city was locked down with the best that Interpol could throw at them, and the Mexican military was even on standby. That meant the possibility of tanks and sophisticated attack helicopters.

Sly brought his shotgun up to his face, keeping as close to the brick wall behind him as possible as the next chain of patrols passed by. As soon as they turned the corner of the street out there, he would have three minutes to move across the street and behind something before the next patrol came along. As soon as it did, he would need to make sure he wasn't spotted at all, or else he was dead.

Finally, the last Interpol soldier turned around the building, and the second his flashlight turned away, Sly made his move, dashing wildly across the now darkened street towards the store in front of him. Normally, he would have used his Invisibility Technique, which in reality simply utilized the unique genetic material of Cooper to activate a special electric frequency of others minds. Instead of becoming Invisible, so to say, the Cooper using the technique was simply ignored.

However, there were too many men to spread the frequency to. Not only would he need to affect the soldiers on the ground, he'd also need to alter the minds of the APC drivers. This task was impossible, at best, deadly at worst, as using the Invisibility technique for too long gave the risk of actually causing a seizure. So, Sly instead utilized his regular stealth techniques.

Shoving the shotgun over his shoulder, leaving it to hang by the strap, Sly glanced around quickly before kneeling down in front of the door. It had been awhile since he'd actually done a Cooper signature job, and he relished picking the lock instead of smashing the door as the McCoy Gang might've done. The store's entrance opened easily to Sly's lock pick, and the Master Thief slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. As was his goal, he'd slipped into a gun store, one being controlled by Muggshot and ignored by crooked cops. Slipping into the back, Sly silently dropped the shotgun and its two shells, turning to the wall of serious hardware. After dropping his padded jacket, Sly quickly slid into a shoulder rig, slipping his pistol into it, as well as all his clips. It was time to leave behind the stand and fire methodology he'd been working with and revert back to running and gunning. Leaving the big, bulky assault rifles where they were, Sly instead picked up a smaller MP5K, a small version of the MP5, but still fired the same 9mm round. A silencer fitted onto the barrel, and a magazine belt held all the bullets he needed. It was time to stop fighting like a soldier and go back to fighting like a thief.

Ditching his sunglasses as well, Sly massaged his face, already missing his mask. However, a quick browsing of his pockets revealed his favorite cap once more, which he pulled back onto his head. The snug fit encouraged him that it would not fall off.

A telephone pole outside was his method of escape, and he climbed it to the top, leaping from the wires to a pipe set into the gun shop's wall. From here it was a straight shot to the roof, where Sly was reintroduced to his favorite playground.

As he leapt along the wires, over the roofs and across streets filled with soldiers, Sly realized that no matter how well the McCoy Gang trained him with guns, he would never love fighting as much as he did jumping.

The Boneyard

4:14 am

The casino was buzzing with Interpol activity, the bottom floor and parking lot ablaze with lights. Grizzly APCs and Dodge Charger cruise cars surrounded the parking lot, corralling the officers and watching the streets. Detective Emmanuel Herrerez, suited in body armor, had been the officer to call for mass Interpol support, and as such was the only Mexican officer to be trusted. As of now, he was being recommended for a promotion, one which would elevate him not into the investigative department of Interpol, but into the assault forces. Herrerez, having grown up in the slums before mass urbanization, was only glad to accept. The cougar was sick of the picky investigative branch, preferring to shoot first and ask questions later. Now, he donned the blue uniform of an Interpol Assault Force member, or the IAF. In his hand was not a Shock Pistol, but a German Heckler and Koch G36C assault rifle. Heavily armed, and finally feeling in his element, Herrerez was feeling proud of himself, and worked hard to prove himself to the captain in charge of the Mexico City lockdown.

The captain turned to him now, a tall, former SAS Doberman Pincher, Captain Evan Spencer.

"Herrerez!" he called, and the Cougar turned, answering "Yessir?"

Spencer pointed, saying "Where does that go?"

Herrerez realized that Spencer was pointing over his shoulder, and turned back to spy a staircase, leading away from the giant, shattered window he was standing at. The cougar was at a loss as he said "Uh…I believe its just the second level of the casino, sir."

Spencer nodded, saying "Well, has it been secured yet?"

"No sir."

"Why?"

Herrerez turned to look back at the captain, then wished he hadn't. As Spencer was only wearing a baseball cap, and not a helmet, his face was fully visible, and the dog's glare could have frozen hell over, it was so icy.

Realizing he needed to do some damage control, Herrerez cleared his throat, yelling to two soldiers who were standing behind him, saying "You two! Come with me, we're going to check out the second floor!"

One of them, a tall Great Dane, shrugged and responded "Whatever you say, rookie."

Grinding his teeth together, Herrerez simply slapped the visor of his helmet down, keying his handset before saying "You with me or not? We got a bunch of other floors to secure. Might as well start with this one."

The two dogs fell in behind him, and all three made for the stairs, assault rifles up and visors down. The trio proceeded forward, climbing the stairs one at a time, each one taking up a position to offer covering fire. The climb was uneventful, and the door at the top yielded easily to a single kick. The three slipped in, rifles poised and ready. Moving with slow determination, they proceeded along the doughnut, each watching a different direction as they all took in the wreckage.

It was obvious that a large gunfight had happened here, not as large as the battle that had left the massacre of the mysterious soldiers downstairs, but damn near close. Enormous bullet holes and giant craters told of massive weaponry, leaving a trail of destruction behind.

There were three elevators leading off this floor, although one appeared to be powered down. That would be the high security lift, then, as the upper floors had been destroyed by the explosion spotted earlier. The other two, however, looked to be intact.

As the trio made their way towards one of the elevators, however, the second dog, a Collie, held up his hand and whispered "Contact. I have a crashed helicopter ahead of us. Looks like someone got a little daredevil into them."

The team slowed, then proceeded into the next room, off the doughnut. A small black helicopter lay in the middle of a large fountain, which was leaking over the edge and all over the floor. The craft was crumpled, and several bullet holes lined its sides. The heavy machine guns and rocket launchers told that this was obviously the criminal of the destruction in the previous room. The team moved forward, and while the Collie swept the room with his rifle as lookout, Herrerez and the Great Dane approached the helicopter, guns at the ready. Herrerez stepped up next to the ruptured fuel tank, which was still dripping, and examined the symbol painted on the side. It was a large, white rhino head, with a spiked T in blue sitting in the center.

"Got a symbol here. Looks like its Taloreso, an Italian mafia lord. Can't tell what the hell he's doing out here, though."

With a wrench of tearing metal, the Great Dane ripped open the door, peering in before shaking his head and saying "Pilot's dead. Looks like the windshield got pummeled by bullets enough to break it. Half his face is gone, but that's not from the crash. Looks like a bunch of bullets hit him. Hard to tell what caliber until we do an autopsy, but this guy's definitely a hyena. Matches up with the soldiers Taloreso hires."

Herrerez turned to the dog, saying "Yeah, but what's an African mercenary who works for an Italian criminal doing here in Mexico?"

The dog stood again, brushing glass out of his armor, saying "We've been monitoring Muggshot for awhile. Turns out he's been doing business with Taloreso and a Russian crime boss named Katurskay. They're trading all sorts of things, guns, vehicles, explosives, drugs. We've even received a tip off that Katurskay is planning on selling some nuclear material to Taloreso. Investigators are trying to find more proof, but by eliminating Muggshot, we may have just hurt their gun market." The dog shrugged. "Or, whoever did kill Muggshot. Someone's out to get them."

Herrerez felt chills runs down his spine as he said "These three crime lords working together have a lock on nearly the entire world. If they got weapons of mass destruction…there'd be no stopping them."

The Great Dane shrugged once more, saying "Well, that depends on what…holy sh-!" The large dog's words were cut off by a spray of blood from the back of his head, originating from the bullet that slammed through his visor. The soldier fell like a stone, and Herrerez spun around, rifle up. The Collie was dead too, most likely killed at the same time as the Dane.

Before the cougar could radio his panic, a hand suddenly slammed down onto his shoulder, and he felt his helmet get yanked off, taking the radio wire with it. Before he could even react, his rifle was pulled from his grasp, and a blow landed on his jaw, knocking him to the watery floor. A sharp clack sounded above him, telling Herrerez that someone was now aiming his own weapon at his prone form.

A rough voice said "Okay, now I've got a gun again. This should be simple."

Sliding in the background told Herrerez that someone else was going over the bodies of the other soldiers, an obvious sign of someone collecting weapons and ammunition. His vision finally straight, Herrerez turned onto his back, only to find himself staring down the barrel of his own G36C. The new owner of the weapon was a large, pink hippo, and Herrerez took a second to recognize Murray Green, rated to be one of the strongest men in the world. Already worried, the cougar looked to his right to spy a wolverine with a bandaged shoulder standing with the Collie's rifle, obviously just acquired.

"Only four magazines per soldier, plus the one already loaded. We need more."

The Hispanic accent was not familiar to Herrerez, though he could now identify the boy as Julio Benedek, the infamous sniper and bombardier. While he was now well and truly intimidated, Herrerez couldn't fathom as to why the Cooper and McCoy Gangs were operating together, although if they were, then there was only one more individual who would make this experience absolutely terrifying.

And he just happened to speak up to Herrerez's left.

"Then perhaps keeping our friend alive was a better idea that we thought."

There he was. Mikhail. The Black Death. The Grim Reaper. With a bounty nearly half of the McCoy Gang's total and a kill count exceeding most other notorious murderers, Mikhail was argued to be the deadliest member. There was virtually nothing known about him, no age, no birthplace. No one even knew if Mikhail was the psychopath's real name. The panther stood before Herrerez, dressed all in black, looking well and truly like he belonged in the Matrix. The third G36C was passed to him, and the assassin looked the gun over, nodding slightly before working the action.

As Benedek began searching the bodies for more weapons and ammo, Mikhail slipped Herrerez's own munitions out of his vest while Green kept the cougar covered. Herrerez had no thoughts of fighting back. The G36C packed the same ammunition as an M16, and with himself virtually unarmed, he would be dead in seconds. Instead, he bided his time, waiting. When the team failed to report in at all, Captain Spencer would undoubtedly have teams cover every exit.

In fact, his handset, still in his belt, crackled to life, and Spencer voice said "Report. Herrerez, Myers, Freedman, what's your condition?" Mikhail looked down at the radio, briefly, before slipping it out of Herrerez's belt as well, staring at it as he stood. Spencer's voice came through once more. "Herrerez, Myers, Freedman, respond!"

Again, no response. Mikhail smiled, slightly, saying "Well, comrades, we can at least use this to our advantage."

The panther grasped Herrerez's helmet, tugging the headset wire out and applying it to his own ear. Plugging the wire into the handset, the assassin slipped the radio into his pocket, checking the frequency before flicking to a few others. After a minute, he said "They're blocking the stairways. Sounds like their numbers are high. IAF soldiers, by what I'm hearing."

He motioned to Green, saying "Get him up."

Before Herrerez could object or respond, the hippo's large hand descended, grabbing the cougar's vest and hoisting the officer to his feet. A gun barrel was stuck under his chin, and the hippo snarled "Make a bad move, and you get a bullet in the leg." Herrerez wisely kept his mouth closed, putting his hands up behind his head as he started towards a stairway.

Captain Spencer had dealt with this kind of situation before, both fortunately and unfortunately, and hostages were a constant. They hadn't heard back from the three soldiers since they'd gone up, and several armed squads were waiting and ready. Spencer himself had grabbed his own weapon, a 12 gauge 870 MCS shotgun, and was diverting soldiers to areas of cover. Four snipers were in place and ready to handle any surprises, armed with M21 rifles. Most likely, the criminals would ask for a vehicle and safe passage in exchange for the soldier's life, and Spencer already had a car waiting for them, outfitted with a GPS tracker. Once the soldier was safe, they could eliminate the criminals without mercy.

His radio squawked to life. Team One had spotted something.

"Captain, we've got them in front of us. They're using the rookie as a shield. They wanna talk to you."

Spencer turned and started for the western staircase, saying "I'm on my way. Keep them stalled. Shoot only in defense. Let's not make a second bloodbath here. Spencer out."

A short walk with Team Three in tow brought Spencer over to Team One's position. Team One consisted of two squads of soldiers, ten men, armed with either rifles or shotguns. All the soldiers' weapon mounted flashlights were cast onto the group at the top of the stairs, yet, thankfully, no one looked to be about to actually get trigger happy.

Spencer signaled Team Three to stay back, trying to ease the pressure of the situation. The three armed men with Herrerez were all on Interpol's Most Wanted Criminals list, as well as carrying the danger rating of Extremely Deadly. Fortunately, they were also professionals, and wouldn't simply kill Herrerez to make an example. They weren't malicious.

"Misters Mikhail, Green and Benedek, I believe."

The wolverine brought his weapon around to point at Spencer, causing the other soldiers to tense up some. The panther simply stood there, rifle hanging casually from his shoulder, and the hippo dug the barrel of his gun deeper into Herrerez's back. The cougar grimaced, teeth bared.

Spencer's own lips pursed, and he said "It appears you have my soldier there, and he's not looking too happy. You alright Herrerez?" The cougar nodded, saying "As good as anyone in this position could be. Ay, caramba, can you push that gun any deeper?"

Spencer nodded, and his next comment was to the criminals. He released the shotgun, letting it hang from its strap and pushing it around as he stepped up behind Team One, saying "Now, this is probably the part where I ask what you chaps want, you tell me, threaten his life, and we wait around while its assembled. However, I've worked with terrorists before," he made sure to put extra emphasis on the word terrorists, "And I think I know what you boys want." He began counting off on his fingers as he said "A vehicle to escape in, a gap in the blockade, money to get you out of here, and the assurance that no one will follow you. Anything else?"

The wolverine nodded, indicating his assault rifle and saying "And more ammo. At least fifteen clips for these." Spencer nodded, saying "Alright, then. We already have a vehicle ready for you, every soldier is pitching in some cash, American dollars, and we can get that ammunition for you momentarily. If you chaps will simply follow me, then."

He gave the signal for Team One to stand down, and they did, reluctantly stepping away and lowering their weapons, wary for any kind of trickery. With a wave of his hand, Spencer indicated the way through wreckage and equipment the IAF had brought in, using the action of turning towards the spotlights and shielding his eyes to key his radio headset and inform the snipers "Don't fire until I say so."

The hippo pushed Herrerez down the steps, and the criminals moved forward, glancing to the left and right at the soldiers. Spencer led them through the casino, towards the front door, radioing the prepared car to meet them in the parking lot and the APCs to open up a gap. If the opportunity presented itself, they would take it and eliminate the criminals, but until then, they had to keep up the appearances that they were going along with the agreement. Even now, the snipers were relocating from where they had been hiding on the first floor towards new positions near the parking lot.

The doors, now permanently open because of the IAF accessing the ground floor security station, were cleared of soldiers, all of whom were careful of where their guns were pointed. Spencer stepped into one of the spotlights, waving his hand around to one of the men, who yelled into the darkness. With the revving of an engine and a screech of tires, an IAF member pulled up in a black Jeep Liberty, a Bone 'Eadz vehicle found in the parking lot. A GPS transmitter had been quickly planted under the driver's seat, ensuring that no matter where the criminals went, they could be followed. The soldier stepped out, threw a quick salute to Spencer, then jogged away to join the other soldiers on the sides.

The criminals came out, Herrerez being roughly shoved ahead of them, then paused, their eyes on Muggshot's mangled body. For a minute, they simply stared at it, then the hippo muttered "I'll be damned…he actually did it. He actually killed Muggshot."

Spencer glanced over at the body, saying "You know who? Don't worry, we're glad. We've been hunting him for months."

The hippo seemed about to answer when the panther cut him off, saying "An associate of ours. He's been hunting Muggshot for longer."

Spencer nodded, saying "Sly Cooper, then? Good, that means Sergeant Bates owes me fifty bucks."

Instant shock spread across the criminals' faces, including the panther's, and Spencer took his chance. Quickly, quietly, he whispered into the radio "Take them out, now."

He'd only just completed the sentence when the panther yelled "Get down!"

The snipers fired at the wrong second, and all three bullets cut over the criminals' heads. One bullet smashed into another soldier's throat, knocking the man to the ground. The second bullet narrowly missed Spencer's head, ripping through the radio wire as the Captain also ducked, going for his shotgun. The third round, fortunately, passed harmlessly by.

As every single soldier went for their guns, Herrerez tried to make a break for it, but the panther coldly raised his rifle, letting off a burst that hit the cougar full in the back, dropping the officer to the ground.

"Bloody hell, FIRE!" Spencer had to yell it, as his radio was gone. He let off a blast from his shotgun, ducking behind an ammunition crate as the wolverine fired at him.

Mikhail had heard the captain give the order for someone to fire over the radio, and had fortunately yelled to the team in time. Now, however, he was suddenly wishing that he hadn't cut down the hostage. If he hadn't perhaps the soldiers wouldn't have opened fire on them. Now, though, with them being outnumbered at least ten to one, there seemed very little chance that the three could shoot their way out. Which left only running as an option.

"Suppressing fire! Get to the Jeep!" he yelled, shooting wildly.

It didn't even matter if he hit anything. Right now, he was just trying to keep the soldiers from firing back. Fortunately, Murray and Julio caught on to the point, running while firing blindly backwards. Two soldiers went down, yelling into the radio, and the others had the sense to seek shelter first. Murray threw open the Jeep's door first, tossing his rifle to Mikhail as he clambered into the vehicle, and the panther extended his arms to the side, letting loose with both rifles in opposite directions. Julio let off a few bursts before clambering into the front seat after Murray. The wolverine yelled "Mikhail, get in, now!" Mikhail fired again with both rifles at the captain, who emerged from behind a cruiser, shotgun in hand. The bullets hammered into the hood and headlight, two of them ramming into the dog's shoulder, throwing the British soldier back to the ground.

Satisfied, Mikhail leapt into the backseat, shucking the magazines of both guns and reloading them. Murray stomped the gas pedal, and the car sped forward in a squeal of burning rubber on asphalt, tearing towards the rapidly closing gap in the line of Grizzly APCs. If the armored personnel carrier managed to close the gap, they would smash into the reinforced steel vehicle full on. The gunner opened up with the mounted .50 caliber machine gun, and large rounds began zipping past, some smacking into the jeep. One crashed through the windshield, and Murray and Julio ducked low. The wolverine begin firing back blindly, but Mikhail ripped open the moon roof, standing with his rifle up to his shoulder, sighting through the attached combat scope. He fired one burst, two, and a rifle round punched straight through the gunner's helmet, destroying his brain in a spray of blood out the back. The gunner's body fell into the vehicle, and the APC veered to the side, presumably because the gunner's body had landed against the driver.

Murray seized the chance, and gunned it through the gap. The space was narrow, and the front of another Grizzly dug into the side of the Jeep, tearing a long mark along the door with an ear-rattling screech.

But then, they were through, zooming off into the dark streets of Mexico City.

((Ta-dah! And you were probably expecting them to excape in the helicopter, weren't you? Ha Ha! Oh, and the review button says it misses you dearly and wants to know what it did to earn your ignoral. -sniff- HOW CAN YOU BE SO CRUEL?!))