Approach
The Krak-Karov Volcano, Russia; Tuesday, June 14, 7:57 P.M…
Vlotho sat in his chair, hands on the desk, grinning at the struggling mouse tied up in the chair in front of him.
"Let me go, you beasts!"
"Oh, that's not a nice way to address your hosts. Don't you know any manners?"
"You'll regret this! Bentley, Sly, and Murray are gonna come rescue me!"
"Oh, but my dear…" Vlotho leaned closer. "That's exactly what we want."
"Don't underestimate them! They've got all kinds of weapons on them! They'll sneak in here right under your noses!"
"I'm afraid that's not possible. You see, we've been monitoring you and your friends ever since your arrival almost two days ago. Watching you like bugs. I honestly can't believe that you spent almost a full 24 hours there in that clearing doing practically nothing, trying to come up with various plans of attack and methods of approach, and then returned to doing nothing after your fancy little gadget returned." He leaned back. "You people are pathetic."
"You're gonna regret this! I don't even know who you are, but I already hate you more than anyone I've ever hated before!"
"So feisty. I don't approve of your attitude, little girl. We'll have to put you in the corner to teach you a lesson. Grant."
"Yes, sir." The Colonel replied from across the room.
"Take her to the cell."
"Yes, sir." The Colonel repeated. He started advancing towards Penelope.
Vlotho leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk.
"I hardly know anything about you, either, little girl. All I know, and need to know, is that you are affiliated with the Cooper Gang. That already has sealed your fate. You shall be perfect bait for the person that I really want."
Penelope's eyes widened.
"I'm…bait?"
"Precisely. Did you not hear me when I said that I wanted for your friends to come here? You must be a rather terrible listener."
Penelope was in shock, unable to cope that she was being used to lure her friends to their deaths.
Just then, she heard the Colonel's voice.
"Alright, let's go."
He lifted her up out of her chair, yanking her to her feet, hands still tied behind her back, and led her out of the room back towards the elevator.
No…Bentley…
Grant led her to the elevator and started down, leaving Vlotho and Hans alone once again.
He sighed and shook his head.
"Such a shame that a perky young girl like her must die so young."
He then checked his watch. It was now 8:00 P.M. Two and a half hours remained.
Vlotho leaned over to the intercom speaker on his desk. He pressed the large button next to the speaker and leaned in close.
"Attention, all personnel! Attention, all personnel! This is Commander Maximilian Vlotho. In exactly two and a half hours, the launch shall commence. In two hours, at 22:00, you shall all suit up in full dress uniforms, arm yourselves with as many weapons as you can, all fully loaded, and report to the main hangar to fall into formation. That is all."
He released the button and eased back into the chair, folding his hands.
"Soon. Very soon. Oh, patience is a virtue."
…
9:17 P.M…
The three of them stood at the edge of the forest, looking down into the valley. From where they stood, the facility was almost completely obscured by the massive Volcano. The only buildings that were still visible were the single, lone building way in the distance, and the building at the top of the crater. There was no movement besides that.
"OK, so what's the plan?" Murray asked as he finished tying one end of a long rope around a large metal stake in the ground.
"I'll head down there along this back route." Sly said. "I'll use the old Volcano path from last time." As he said this, he gestured at the familiar pool of lava at the base of the Volcano, with the single rock path running along it. It seemed completely unchanged, even right down to the smashed metal gate at the entrance to the path.
Both Murray and Bentley nodded their confirmation.
"Due to your reconnaissance, Bentley, we've concluded that that path is obviously abandoned and is completely unused. It's like the back door of the Volcano. I'll use the remains and various rock formations as cover. Once I get closer to the more active areas, I'll use my Shadow Power move to remain undetected for short periods of time. I'll have this…" He held up his pistol in one hand. "…and this." He held up the Cane in the other. "I'll have my communicator in. It will be strict radio silence, with the sole exception of a very brief, very quiet update from me every 5 minutes. If I take even 10 seconds longer than 5 minutes to update you, then you know that something's gone wrong. When I sound the alarm, by pressing the button on my communicator three times, then that means that it's safe for you guys to enter and come to my position. You said that you can track the communicator on a small radar system, right?" He directed the question at Bentley.
In return, Bentley brushed his gloved hand over a small, green screen on the right armrest of his chair.
"Right here. We can follow wherever you go as long as your communicator is in place."
"Excellent."
"Wait just a minute." Murray interrupted, prompting both Bentley and Sly to turn and look at him curiously.
"If you can track the communicators in our ears, then how come you can't just use that to find Penelope?"
"I already tried. For some reason, the signal in hers has gone completely dead. But that doesn't mean anything more than that her communicator probably fell out of her ear and was stepped on or something."
"Right." Sly agreed.
"And, in case anything goes wrong and we need to return to this spot," Bentley gestured at the stake, "here's a small device that sends an emergency signal to all of our communicators simultaneously." Bentley pulled out a small, dark metal box with an antenna on top and a single red button in the middle. He placed it on the ground carefully, leaning it against the stake. "In case we get separated, we can report back here and set off the signal to alert the others."
"Nice work, Bentley." Sly commented. He then turned back to Murray. "Murray, have your shotgun and rifle ready. Bentley, you be ready, too."
"Gotcha."
"Roger."
"OK. I'll head down and sneak my way in. Hopefully, I can find out either where Penelope is, or what exactly is going on in that place."
"The first one is more important to us at this point." Bentley stated firmly. "If we have Penelope, we don't have to stay here any longer. We can just leave and come back later with Interpol alongside us."
"Understood. But let's just take this one step at a time, OK?"
Bentley paused, then slowly nodded. "Fine."
"OK. I'm heading down."
Sly stood aside from his two friends and stepped back from the edge of the cliff. He then took a running jump and leapt off the edge of the cliff, flipping forward once, then fell down at an incline. He waited until the last moment, then quickly deployed his paraglide. His descent was abruptly halted as he jerked up once, the wind catching the paraglide and hoisting him up briefly, before he started gliding down. After about four seconds, he touched down safely. He quickly released the paraglide and crumpled it up into a ball, stuffing it back into his backpack. He continued on towards the Volcano. He looked back up at the massive cliff face towering up above him from behind, and could barely see Bentley and Murray at the top. The latter was already grabbing the long, thick coil of rope and tossing it over the edge of the cliff. Sly watched as it unfurled like a massive snake, falling further and further down along the cliff wall. For a few moments, he wondered whether or not it would actually reach the bottom and cover the entire height of the cliff wall. Sure enough, it did with barely a foot between the ground and the tip of the rope. With a sigh of relief, he turned and looked back at where he was going.
As he moved closer to the lava pool, he found that his conscience was perfectly divided into two sides, both fiercely screaming at each other as his body moved along, almost against his own will.
"What are you doing? What the HELL are you doing? You're running right into that base? Who do you think you are? Superman?"
"Murray was right. You've faced enemies of these numbers before. You can do it."
"Not as armed to the teeth as these guys are. They're all built, armed, and probably even trained, like Terminators. If that last guy was anything to go by…"
He reached the lava pool. He stopped at the edge of it and looked down. The lava was still boiling below, steam rising from it. He looked at the long rock path going across the pool, alongside the Volcano, and into the familiar cave.
He turned and headed to the right, moving along the edge of the lava pool towards the ruined gate. He moved around the tower of rock on one side and onto the path. He stood below the huge gate, staring up at it for a moment. Dark, terrible memories seared through his mind as he looked up at the small duplicate of Clockwerk's face at the top of the gate. Those furrowed eyebrows…those yellow eyes…
"See that? Do you see that? That's a symbol of your single worst enemy. The enemy who killed your father, and almost killed you on several occasions. That nightmare from the night before…It clearly depicted Clockwerk. Don't you get it? Unlike the last two, that nightmare wasn't focusing on past events. It was a new event, one you've never been through before. Don't you get it? It's foreshadowing the future! Not a good future, either. And heading into this Volcano will only seal your encounter with that future."
"You can't just give up. Sly Cooper doesn't give up."
"Sly Cooper doesn't commit suicide, either."
Shaking it off, Sly looked back at the path and ran through the gate. He ran down along the path, looking back up to the right at the Volcano towering up above him. He noticed the large gap in the crater above, where the Death Ray was last time. He remembered the multiple boulders that had been sent rolling down towards them by that Ray's powerful laser. Those dozens of screeching, diving Robo-Falcons flying overhead. Those hundreds of mines that had to be blown away.
Then, finally, he made it to the cave at the other side.
"It's not suicide. Besides, you can't just leave. There's something wrong with that place. Horribly wrong. All of the radioactivity…"
"That makes it just as dangerous, if not more so. That Volcano has been nothing but trouble. Nothing but…Nothing…"
He pressed down on the communicator in his left ear and whispered. "First update: Have made it to the end of the path at the base of the Volcano. Now heading into the cave. Out."
He headed into the dark cave, remembering how their late van had barely managed to make it through the first time, and how he himself had almost been killed when he was on top of the van as it went under. There were no lights of any kind inside the cave, but the natural orange light from the glowing lava provided enough illumination. He headed along the wall, then turned left, onto the narrow path leading to the massive, round, rock platform in the middle of the lava. He remembered all of the massive lava slugs that had attacked them here as they attempted to grab the fallen computers. At the other end was the second metal door, wide open. One half of the door had been blown halfway off its hinges and hung there limply, while the other was still intact, aside from some scorch marks.
"You beat the Volcano once before, you can do it again! It's not like…he is back. Perhaps he was just a representation of the Volcano itself. After all, it was where he originated from."
"Even if Clockwerk isn't back, that means that I could be facing a whole new enemy. Unlike anyone, or anything, I've ever faced before."
Sly headed through the door and into the old control room. This was the first location he had passed through here at the Volcano that was drastically different. All of the machinery and electronics from last time were gone. The several mechanical crane arms were gone. The overhead lights were gone. The spinning gears were gone. The ramp leading up to the second level had broken away and fallen into the lava, and the few computer monitors that had been up there were missing as well. Only one of the chairs still remained, and the other two were missing. Part of the booby-trapped tiled floor in the middle of the room – mostly the right side – had broken away and fallen into the lava as well.
As Sly approached the tiles, he remembered the booby-trap. Thinking quickly, he kneeled down and unbuckled the strap of the red pouch on his left leg. He stepped back, then tossed the small pouch onto the tile. It fluttered down and landed.
Nothing.
Sly took a cautious step onto the tile, pausing as his foot came down. Still nothing. He started walking along slowly, bending down to retrieve his leg pouch and reattach it before continuing on. He hugged the left side of the tiled platform, staying away from the half that had broken off. As he approached the middle, he could hear the platform start to really creak and groan under his weight. He stopped in the middle of his stride, pausing and listening to the metal beneath him.
There was another long groan. Then silence.
"Your friends."
"What about my friends?"
"They came with you."
"So?"
"Your friends…all three of them. They chose to come with you. They could've just as easily said no. They could've just as easily let you embark on this quest for revenge all by yourself. But they didn't. They all chose to come. They all chose to leave behind their homes, and join you on this trek that they all knew full well could end all of their lives."
He took a few more long steps and reached the other side. He stopped, now face-to-face with the all-too-familiar gas chamber. Seeing that round, white pedestal in the middle, he was reminded briefly of his late wife. Standing there, contained in the now-absent glass tube, about to be gassed to death alongside him. Had it not been for Bentley…
Sly shook it off and took a step forward. He noticed that all of the controls, all of the monitors inside were also completely smashed and ruined. He figured that if the tiled floor's trap didn't work…
He cautiously and slowly stepped inside. Nothing happened.
"OK, so what good does that prove? That could just make me feel worse, knowing that I could be leading them to their deaths, alongside mine. After all, I already got Penelope kidnapped. In a way, that killed two birds with one stone. Penelope's in their hands, and Bentley's probably a mental wreck because of it."
Then, in a flash, he dashed through the chamber to the other side, exiting through the wide open doorway out onto the ledge outside.
He paused and pressed the button on his communicator again. "Second update: Have passed through the cave, control room, and out onto the ledge. Am going to start crossing lava river to Volcano wall. Out."
Sly looked down to his left, and saw that the wire he had slid down last time was gone. He stepped back, then took a running jump and leapt off the ledge. He flipped forward once, then deployed his paraglide once again. He floated down across the lava river, moving to the right to the raised area directly ahead of the ledge, rather than the lower area to the left where he had started before, seeing as how the metal pipe leading to it was gone, too. He barely made it.
"If anything, that just helps you. It make Bentley even more determined to help you, to save the love of his life. And the same goes for Murray, too, with the destruction of his van."
He returned the paraglide to his backpack and continued. Most of the machinery was completely gone. The lights lining the paths were either gone or broken, the massive spinning gears had stopped moving and were rusting away, and the two massive machines that he had climbed up before were gone. However, since the giant gears were motionless, he jumped onto the one nearest the ramp leading up to the next level and started climbing up it, placing his Cane in his mouth as he ascended the piece of machinery. He made it to the top and jumped onto the first metal ramp. Parts of it had broken away, and what remained was scorched and rusted. He ran up the first ramp and turned a sharp right up the next one, passing by the dark tunnel where the lava slugs had come out of the first time. Nothing emerged from the darkness this time around.
He ran past more broken and destroyed machinery as he raced up the second ramp. Reaching the other side, he leapt up onto the second rusty tunnel, running on top of it to reach the third ramp, and continued along.
"OK, I guess I can understand Murray's situation. But Bentley's and Penelope's is something else. I mean, their allegiance is stronger at her expense? What if they torture her? Or worse?"
He looked up at the two large openings in the side of the metal wall that the Robo-Falcons had come from. There were still some remaining shards of glass scattered along the path below the two openings. He then found himself faced with a massive roadblock.
At this point, near the top of the metal ramps, he previously had to climb up one metal pole, do the Ninja Spire jump onto the tops of three small metal smokestacks, then grab onto yet another metal pole at the other end. However, both of the smokestacks had fallen over. One was toppled over towards the right opening, leaning against the slanted metal below the openings, the second one was gone completely, and the third one was broken in half, with the bottom half remaining. Jagged metal lined the top of it.
Sly pressed his communicator. "Third update: Have nearly reached the top of the series of metal ramps just before Volcano's crater. Have reached an area that is now inaccessible due to fallen debris. Will work to find another way up. Out."
"Penelope believed in you more than your other friends. She understood the pain that you were going through. She understood your fury, your reasons for wanting to press on. She is probably more willing than any of your other friends to help you. But regardless, all three of your friends are still willing to help you."
"What do you mean?"
He looked around at the area before him. Looking down, there was only a drop to the lower levels. He looked up at the metal pipe that he had to climb up first, and saw that it had also toppled over towards the wall that the Robo-Falcons had come out of. The top of it was just barely at the opening closer to him.
He got an idea.
He jumped up, spun around, and landed on the fallen pipe. He ran up along it to the opening, then jumped off and landed at the mouth of the hole. He grabbed onto the wall between this opening and the second, and leaned out to get a good view of what was next. He had to get over to the second opening, but the metal below him was slanted at an angle too high for him to get a good footing on. However, the second smokestack was still lying neatly across the metal, directly between the two openings.
Sly, still holding onto the edge, leaned out and placed one foot on the fallen smokestack. It wobbled briefly, but still ultimately held in place. He then stepped out completely, letting go of the edge and placing both feet on the stack. At the same split second that his other foot touched down, he pressed off again with his foot that was already there, and jumped off the stack to the other opening, making it and grabbing onto the edge for support.
He moved over to the opposite side of the opening. He looked up, and saw that the second metal pipe had also fallen over. Almost too perfectly, it had fallen over the second opening, the top of it on the next level. He stepped back, then jumped out and latched onto the pipe with his Cane. He pulled himself up, placing the Cane back into his mouth, then quickly climbed up and made it to the next level.
"They came because they knew what a horrible pain, a horrible, agonizing suffering, you were going through. Penelope understood it best, but they all understood it to some degree. They wanted to help you."
"So what? They came because they felt sorry for me?"
He jumped up onto the final ramp leading all the way across to the path that led up to the crater. He passed by another empty tunnel, running past where a set of massive lights had blocked his path before. This time, the path was completely empty, and it was a straight shot to the other end.
He finally made it. He stopped and slowly turned to the left. There was the small path leading up over the final hill and into the crater.
He lifted one foot and started to move towards it. Then he stopped.
He pressed the communicator again.
"Fourth update: Have successfully reached the top of the series of ramps, and am now at the entrance to the crater."
He paused, hand still on his ear, then slowly turned to the right. He saw the abrupt transition from the safe metal path that he was on, and the rough, rocky surface of the Volcano. However, it was not completely steep and impossible to maneuver through. Especially someone of his level of skill.
He looked at the rocky area leading down along the side of the Volcano, then up at the path leading up to the crater.
Finally, he continued. "Have decided not to enter the crater, for fear of it being the perfect set-up for a trap. Am instead going to maneuver slowly around the side of the Volcano by climbing along the rock wall. Out."
"No. They came because they believed in you. They believed that, whatever troubles you would face along the way, you – as the natural leader that you were born to be – could handle it. And this is the moment where you must prove yourself…to your friends, and to yourself."
"To myself…I can't prove me to myself. I've failed. I had my own intentions of coming here and destroying all who were behind this. But now I just can't do it. I've already failed to prove me to myself, how can I possibly prove myself to them?"
Sly then turned and stepped off the metal path, stepping onto the cold rock. His foot was already slanted, and as he placed his second foot down, he stumbled briefly. He quickly reached out and grabbed a jutting rock above him for support. He turned and looked behind him at the massive drop down into the lava below, but saw that there was a risen rock wall clearly dividing the area full of machinery and the still bare rock part of the Volcano wall.
He then stepped up and over the top of the wall, jumping down about 8 feet onto a ledge below, now safely on the other side. The area with all of the machinery, metal ramps, and pool of lava was behind him. There was nothing at all around him except for rock. Loose rocks and small boulders at the base of the Volcano, rock ledges and jutting rocks above and below him, and the top of the wall, high, high up above him, surrounding the crater and containing its deadly payload of lava.
He sneaked along the first ledge, which was only about 10 feet long, before he reached the end. He jumped up onto another ledge directly above it, only about 2 feet long. He inspected his surroundings. He saw another ledge farther down below, perhaps 15 to 17 feet down. He kneeled down at the edge of the ledge, turned around, and eased himself off the edge of it. He grabbed onto the edge tightly, then looked below him to the right. Along the wall, there were several crevices, barely enough to fit his foot into. He saw another crevice farther below it.
He took a deep breath, then let go of the ledge, dropping down along the cliff face. He pressed one hand against the wall, sliding it down along the wall as he fell, then felt it fall into the top crevice. As it fell in, he latched his fingers further into the crevice and gained a good grip, halting his fall. As he dangled, he pressed feet against the wall and felt around for the crevice below it. Eventually, his right foot found it, and he placed both feet in, giving himself a good position on the cliff wall. He paused for a moment, then pulled his feet out, followed by his hand. He slipped down the wall a little more, until he grabbed hold of the second crevice. By now, the ledge beneath him was only about 8 feet below. He paused for another moment, then released his grip on the second crevice. He dropped down to the next ledge.
This ledge was significantly longer, about 20 feet long. He sneaked along this ledge, hugging the Volcano wall, as he moved closer to rounding the width of the Volcano. He turned and looked back up at where he had first started his trek along the rock. He could no longer see the top of the path leading up to the crater, or any sign of the machine-filled area. He turned and looked back at where he was going, sneaking along the ledge.
He reached the end of the ledge, where another one was higher up and rising up at an angle, with the wall on one side and jagged rocks lining the other, almost like a guard rail. He climbed up onto it and ascended it. There were sudden sharp drops and rises, jagged rocks in the middle of the path, and areas where he had to duck. But nevertheless, he continued up along the much rockier path, moving slightly higher and higher as he moved along.
Eventually, the five minutes were up, and he reported again.
"Fifth update: Am moving along the side of the Volcano, on a ledge with many jagged rocks providing sufficient cover. Am probably about halfway between the back of the Volcano where I started, and the front of the Volcano, where target is. Out."
"Regardless of whether you can or can't prove yourself, you must make the decision…soon. The storm is coming. Faster and sooner than you might think."
He continued moving along the rocky, uneven ledge. Finally, he reached the end of it, where it abruptly dropped off to a chasm about 30 feet deep. About 4 feet away was another ledge, perhaps about 6 feet lower and 11 feet long. He stepped back and leapt off the path, landing on the smaller ledge below. When he reached the other side of it, he saw a pile of fairly loose boulders below him, leading down into a rough, jagged, uneven, rocky area surrounding the base of the Volcano, which he had previously been staying above by scaling these ledges. However, a good onceover revealed that there were no more ledges for him to walk along. It was sheer, flat, solid rock wall.
With a sigh, he turned around and lowered himself down the side, hanging with his feet a few feet above the top of the rock pile. He tried to ease himself down even further, but his hands slipped and he tumbled right down onto it. He tried to get decent footing on the top boulder, but he slipped and slid off the side of the boulder, his feet instead planting between two other boulders lower down on the pile. He leaned back and pressed his back up against the top boulder, pausing to catch his breath after the near fall.
After a few seconds, he resumed his work. Carefully inspecting each boulder as he eased down the pile, he made sure to get as secure and solid of a footing as he could, often wedging his feet between two separate boulders in order to keep from either slipping off the side or knocking a boulder out of place.
Finally, he reached the bottom of the pile. Jumping off the last boulder, he landed on a flat patch about two feet wide between several jagged rocks rising up on almost every side. The jagged rocks allowed perfect cover, and he hid between two of them, peering out between them at the area before him.
From this angle, he could finally see certain parts of the facility. While most of the buildings were still hidden below the wall of rock directly between them and him, he could still see the large area that was directly against the Volcano wall, the building slightly darker than the others, and with the glass tube leading up out of it along the wall. In the distance, he could barely see the top of the lone building that stood out by itself. Only now, from this angle on the ground, he realized how tall that building was. It was easily as tall as a 20-story building, at least.
He stood up and slid between rock after rock, squeezing his body between two sharp, jagged rocks, stepping up over low rocks, and ducking underneath overhanging rocks. It was a rough, jagged terrain of sharp, uneven rocks, as if an earthquake had shaken this area of the base of the Volcano. Eventually, he finally made it back to the wall of the Volcano and crouched down behind three stalagmites lined up against each other.
"Sixth update: Have reached the wall of the Volcano at ground level. Am well-hidden among jagged rocks. Can see the lone building and the building that is directly against the Volcano wall. Moving forward, towards target. Out."
He eased up out from his hiding place and moved along the wall, again sidestepping between rocks. Eventually, he was at another flat area, crouching behind a long rock that was about 7 feet long and a foot and a half tall. He peered out from over the top. The facility was now much closer. He could almost hear voices now, scattered and distant, speaking in unmistakable Russian…
He started to stand up.
Then, in an instant, he felt the unmistakable shape and weight of a metal barrel shoved against his back, directly between his shoulder blades. He froze.
"Don't move." The rugged voice behind him spoke in a deep accent.
Sly didn't even breathe. His Cane was still firmly clutched in one hand.
"Drop weapon."
Sly still made no effort to move.
"I said drop weapon!" He repeated in his clearly broken English.
When the unseen presence pressed the barrel even deeper and harder into Sly's back, he complied. He slowly released his grip, and the Cane clattered to the ground, landing slanted against a rock.
"Other weapon. Gun. Drop gun."
Sly's left hand slowly gravitated down towards his holster. He felt another sharp jolt in his back as the barrel pressed harder.
"Make stupid move and die."
Sly's hand paused, then moved towards it again. He grabbed the flap over the holster, tugging it free of the single metal button that held it in place. He slowly wrapped his fingers around the handle of the pistol. He paused again, his other hand still in the air.
Then, slowly, he lifted the pistol out of the holster just enough so that it was free of the holster. He moved it slightly away, then released it. It also clattered to the ground.
Almost instantly, Sly felt the barrel pull away from his back. The guard reached up and grabbed his right hand first, followed by his left hand, pinning them behind his back. He could hear the metal clanking of handcuffs, and the sounds of the rings locking into place as they clasped over his wrists.
The guard bent down to pick up the pistol and the Cane, placing both in his belt, before pressing the barrel against Sly's back once more.
"Move."
Sly sighed and started to walk forward.
…
Bentley kept his eyes glued to his watch, while Murray tried and failed to spot Sly somewhere along the side of the Volcano. All that they could really see was the old Volcano path, winding over the pool of lava and eventually ending in the old, dark cave.
Just then, Bentley noticed the oddity that he had hoped would never happen.
It had been five minutes. One second after. Two seconds after. Five minutes and three seconds. Five minutes and four…five…six…seven…
Soon, it was six minutes.
Bentley's hand started trembling, and he sighed.
"Murray…it's not looking good." Bentley shook his head. Now, after only six updates. After only half an hour…
"So, what do we do?"
"We wait for his signal." Bentley replied firmly. "He'll know when it's safe for us to move in. You got your guns?"
Murray held up both firearms; the shotgun in his right hand, the rifle in his left hand.
"Locked, loaded, and ready to go."
"We'll wait. He'll give us the signal, eventually."
…
Sly's mind was racing furiously as the single guard led him down the rocky mountainside, the AK-47 still pressed against his back. Eventually, they finally cleared the rough terrain and touched down on short, half-dead grass. The ground here was completely and evenly flat. Perfect foundation for these buildings.
The guard led him around several of the buildings, eventually making it around the side of the facility into the front area, from which they had observed them with the RC chopper. Sly lifted his head up to the right briefly to get a good glimpse of the lone building. It was indeed like a massive hangar; made of solid metal, a curved, sloping roof, windows lining only the very top of the walls, and two small guardhouses – no larger than a common telephone booth – on each side of the massive door on the front of the building. He remembered how loudly and rapidly the Geiger Counter had sounded over that building. He squinted hard. Something was in there…
Another prod from the barrel of the assault rifle pressured him to return his attention to where he was going.
They walked alongside the long, almost endless metal façade of the facility, the metal gleaming with an almost unnatural brilliance, but at the same time, plain dullness.
Many guards who passed by on either side stared at Sly Cooper as they moved by, recognizing the face of their number one enemy. Sly himself, however, couldn't understand the strange looks. Did they know who he was?
Finally, they reached a massive metal door in the side of one of the buildings. The guard, with one hand grabbed the door's handle and twisted it down, pulling back with all his weight to heave the massive door open. Once it was open, the guard ushered Sly in first. The guard followed, pulling the door closed behind him. Sly found himself in a massive, hollow, metal corridor stretching on for a great distance in both directions, about 10 feet high and 15 feet wide. The only features were lone light bulbs, protected by thin metal cages, lining the ceiling every 30 feet or so, and various other doors on either side of the corridor. There were several other members of personnel roaming the halls, weapons in hand or attached to their person in some way.
Sly stopped for a moment. With one quick once-over, he realized how dreadfully familiar this place was…
The guard gestured to the right, and Sly turned and started to head down.
They moved down the dull, monotonous hallway, light bulbs and doors moving past in the same patterns over and over again. Occasionally, however, there were different-looking places. On the left side, at one point, there was a rectangular setback area in the corridor. Lining the back wall of the setback area were metal racks, from floor to ceiling, lined with weapons. All kinds of weapons. From pistols, to rifles, to shotguns, to machine guns. Even grenades and bundles of dynamite were there.
As they continued along, he could hear all kinds of sounds reporting from the other side of the closed doors. From gunshots, to metal clangs, to metallic whirring, to muffled explosions, to rapid shouts or calls in Russian, all kinds of sounds that made this place seem even more mechanical, futuristic, mysterious, and dangerous.
Later on, the doors on the right side of the corridor stopped passing by. Then, suddenly, on the left, the wall moved back about 20 feet, and the floor vanished. Sly found himself now moving on a metal catwalk, the mesh grating below allowing him a limited view below. Across the way, there was another metal catwalk, suspended in mid-air over the pit below them, and another one against the opposite wall, with metal catwalks lining the perpendicular walls leading to it as well. In the area below them were seven long lanes of dirt, all parallel to each other and with a five-foot distance between each other. At the end of each lane were massive piles of sand, at least 10 feet tall and 12 feet wide. In front of each pile of sand was a target in the shape of a man. At the other end of each lane, about 40 feet from the targets, were men with various firearms, taking aim at the targets and firing away. Sly could see bits of the piles of sand blow away as bullets blew through the targets and into the sand behind them. As he moved further along the catwalk, he could see just how scarily accurate most of the men were; one man had hit the head of his target so many times, he had completely blown away all of the paper in the head section of the target. It wasn't just holes in the head; there was no space between the bullet holes.
Finally, after about 60 feet of metal catwalk and listening to weapons fire again and again, they reached the other side, and were back in the regular metal corridor.
After about 6 more minutes, a fork in the hall appeared, with their corridor continuing on straight, and another corridor branching off to the left and slightly curving, with several more doors lining it.
However, in the corridor that continued straight ahead, there were no more doors, and the end of the corridor was about 15 feet away. Set directly in the middle of the end of the corridor was the largest door he had seen so far. It was about 8 feet tall and 7 feet wide. It was slightly darker than the metal that the rest of the building was constructed out of. It had two thick, vertical, metal beams along the front of it, studded with large rivets. There was also a small, cylindrical handle sticking directly out of it just above the regular, vertical handle on the right side and in the middle. The cylindrical handle sticking straight out was set in a long crevice cut into the door, just wide enough for it to fit through. There was also a large dial in the center of the door, like the kind that would be seen on vaults.
The guard approached the door and roughly shoved Sly off to the side, out of the way of the door. As he kept the AK-47 aimed at Sly with one hand, he reached up with his other hand and first grabbed the massive dial, turning it in the clockwise direction numerous times until there was a large thump. He then grabbed the cylindrical handle that stuck straight out and moved it to the left, to the other end of the crevice.
His gun still trained on Sly, he knocked on the huge door three times, then spoke in rapid Russian to someone on the other side. After a brief response, Sly could hear similar sounds from the other side of the thick door. First the sound of another dial turning, and then another handle sliding across. Then the door slowly started to pull back, swinging in away from the two of them. Once it was open completely, the guard gestured into the opening with the barrel of his rifle.
Sly slowly moved forward, sliding through the opening. The Russian followed.
Moving past the huge metal door, Sly glanced to the left, where another guard – a pigeon – stood with his hand cautiously on a pistol holstered at his side. He nodded at the guard behind Sly before he started to push the massive door closed, locking everything back into place, from the dial to the cylindrical handle.
Sly turned to look back, briefly looking down at the floor. When he looked down, he saw that the three of them were on a metal platform, with a grated floor, suspended by pillars at each corner of the platform. He realized that the floor of this area, which surely went much further below the actual surface level, was probably about 100 feet below him. He looked up at the ceiling, but could barely see it, shrouded in darkness and easily about twice has high up as the distance between him and the floor.
He then slowly eased his head down to look straight ahead.
What he saw astonished him beyond comprehensibility.
From a brief, two-second onceover of the chamber, he deduced two things: One was that he was definitely in the much larger, bulkier area of the facility that hugged the Volcano wall. The other was that this massive section was some kind of factory.
All around, everywhere he looked, there were mechanical arms, hydraulic machinery, conveyor belts, large metal vats, personnel (both guards and white-coated scientists), control panels, whirring, buzzing, groaning, beeping, and metal clanking.
Directly ahead of him was a narrow staircase, with grated steps, leading down to a much larger grated platform. On this platform, there were several long control panels, with levers, lights, buttons, and screens dotting it. In front of the long line of control panels was a massive conveyor belt, moving in the direction opposite the door he had come in through. At the starting end of the belt was a massive metal crane with three claws in it, operated by a small cat sitting in the operator's seat, moving the arm back and forth, opening and closing the claws, and so on. The arm moved away from the conveyor belt and reached down into the abyss where the floor was. This crane, easily over 100 feet long, reached its claw down into a massive, circular metal vat full of chunks of metal. As the crane grabbed a piece of metal about the size of Murray, Sly instantly recognized this metal as the Karovanine Bentley had introduced him to. It was unmistakable. The same level of dullness, but brilliance at the same time, its texture, look…
The crane picked up the piece of Karvoanine, lifted up, moved over the front of the conveyor belt, and easily set the piece down on it. It rolled over onto one side, its flatter side, before settling down.
The guard had decided that Sly's observation time was over, and jabbed him with the barrel of his gun once more. Sly was pushed forward, his eyes still locked on the fast conveyor belt. Nevertheless, he instinctively began putting one foot in front of the other and moved down the narrow staircase.
As he descended, he kept his eyes locked on the metal as it continued its journey. It moved down along the conveyor belt, past the control panels and the scientists operating them (none of whom paid any attention to the passing guard or his prisoner.
As they moved along, more platforms started appearing, on either side. Some were even higher up above them, suspended by pillars, and some were below them. It was a massive network, an array of metal platforms and catwalks and the pillars supporting them. On each and every platform, there was at least one member of personnel, and for every member of personnel, there was three times as much machinery, either in mechanical arms, control panels, or some other form of mechanism that Sly could not recognize.
All throughout this factory, Sly kept his eyes glued to that one piece of Karovanine as it traveled down the conveyor belt. The belt moved right along, over the massive gorges between suspended metal platforms. Eventually, it finally reached the end. At the end of the conveyor belt was a large metal box, also suspended in mid-air by four pillars, one at each corner. There was a noticeable orange glow emitting from within, out of an oval-shaped opening that the conveyor belt rolled right into. The conveyor belt stopped, with the piece he was watching being right at the entrance to the box. The orange glow continued. Then, suddenly, the light grew much brighter and sharper for a few moments as a deep roar sounded from inside the box, and he thought that he could even see flames licking out from the entrance, barely touching the piece at the entrance.
Then the belt started up again, and the piece rolled right inside just as Sly himself was parallel with the box. For a moment, the belt continued rolling, the piece now somewhere inside the box. Then it stopped. Then, just as before, the light grew much brighter and flames shot out from the entrance as the roar picked up. Just then, he was on the other side of the box, which was a flat metal side. The only feature in this side was a long, thin, metal pipe sticking out from the back, tilted at an angle of about 30 degrees, ending at a 3-foot tall, 5-foot long, 3-foot wide metal block. Sly looked at the top of the metal block, and could see an outline carved into the metal block. It was a very thin outline, only about three inches thick, but in the clear and unmistakable shape of an egg, which perfectly lined up with the full length and width of the block. The end of the pipe was placed directly at the crevice. He noticed that, inside the outline, there was a slightly lowered section of the block, just below the rest of the block's surface.
After a few more moments, the roaring from inside the box stopped, the light died down, and the flames receded back inside. Then Sly watched as a strange orange liquid emerged from the pipe, dropping down in a thin stream right into the egg-shaped outline in the top of the block. He knew, right off the bat, that this orange liquid was the piece of Karvonanine that he had been keeping an eye on, now melted into liquid form. He watched as the melted metal filled up the indentation completely, filling up the outline, and then filling in the lowered area within the outline, stopping just as it seemed ready to spill over the edge, and not once leaking out from the pipe as it came out. Now there was a glowing, orange egg in the middle of the block. Then, almost instantly, a massive hydraulic press shot down from above, slamming on top of the block and the melted contents. After the loud slam, a massive cloud of steam managed to escape from the small crevice between the two halves of the block now formed before him, as a loud hissing sound emitted from it.
He walked past it against his will as the guard urged him along. Eventually, he quickly turned his head back and looked back at the two pieces of metal, steam and hissing still escaping from it. There was a loud click, and the top part slowly began to recede up again. It moved much more slowly this time, and Sly could see the curved indentation in the underside of the hydraulic press, curved inward and with a series lines criss-crossing it, forming a grid of squares. He could see that the metal in the box was no longer melted and no longer orange; it was back to its gray color, and back to its solid form, but was now molded into the shape of an egg, with matching lines forming squares all over it. At that moment, a large crane from the platform next to the block lifted up and over the block, with a large, flat circle at the end instead of a claw like the last one. It lowered down slowly, hovering over the newly-formed egg, right before an unseen force caused the egg to fly out of its mold and slam up against the circle, magnetized. Here, Sly could now see how it was: It was only half of an egg, and a hollow half. The sides lining the half egg were still extremely thick, about 3 inches thick, and the full side was also about 2 inches thick, but the interior itself was still completely hollow. The arm moved up and over a second conveyor belt, starting right next to the egg mold, and placed the new egg half on the end of it. One of the operators cut the magnetic flow, and the crane lost its grip on the egg, placing it gently on the conveyor belt and lifting up, allowing it to move along. Slightly further down the way, another smaller crane, once again with claws, was in position to grab the sideways egg half and place it upright, with its top pointing towards the ceiling.
The guard ushered Sly forward, and Sly turned to look back at where he was going. But not before turning his head around allowed him to get a quick glimpse of further ahead on the conveyor belt, where dozens upon dozens of matching hollow egg halves were lined up, moving along in rapid succession.
From there, Sly's mind was a complete blank, unable to comprehend what was happening here. He recognized those eggs all too much. Mech Eggs. Dozens, maybe even hundreds, being manufactured here. And that also accounted for the radioactivity earlier. At least from this area of the facility.
As they moved along, there were all kinds of platforms surrounding them, above, below, beside, and so on. At some places, the platform they were on became much larger, with more machinery and equipment and whatnot, and other areas where the platform became a catwalk barely wide enough for two people to walk along side-by-side. There were massive computer consoles, controls, pieces of machinery, cranes, conveyor belts, and on and on and on.
Sly's mind, although distant after recognizing the half of the Mech Egg, did briefly catch the rest of the manufacturing process, coming from a similar setup of one crane lifting up a piece of Karovanine, placing it on a conveyor belt, rolling it into a large melting box, pouring the melted Karovanine into the egg-shaped outline, magnetically lifting the other half out of the molding block, pulling it upright on the second conveyor belt, and then, at a large, flat, square platform at the spot where the two opposite-facing conveyor belts met, crane arms pushing the two completed halves together. A large, magnetic crane then lifted the full Mech Egg off the platform, lifted it up over the metal platform beside the two conveyor belts, to another conveyor belt on the other side, moving in the same direction as the two men. The conveyor belt rolled the completed Mech Egg along until it reached another flat platform, where it rolled off the belt and stopped on the platform. Two smaller magnetic cranes moved up over the platform, attaching to both halves of the Egg, then pulled both halves apart. From the side of the platform opposite the side facing the metal platform Sly was walking on, yet another conveyor belt rolled an all-too familiar helicopter-like robot, significantly larger than the ones he remembered from a certain massive blimp 13 years ago. The conveyor belt rolled the helicopter right onto the platform, and the crane arms moved the two Mech Egg halves over so that they were on each side of the helicopter. The cranes then pushed the halves together, encasing the helicopter in its protective shell, then releasing their magnetic grip. While one arm retreated, the other magnetically attached to the Egg from the top, lifting it up and over the platform to another conveyor belt, placing it on the end and releasing it, letting it roll away.
From there, Sly finally managed to turn away and tried his hardest to ignore the mechanical monstrosity around him.
It seemed like an eternity of listening to his footsteps fall against the metal over and over again, listening to the symphony of sounds coming from all of the machinery around him, and dreading meeting the conductor.
Finally, after rounding a large control board and moving between a control panel and a hydraulic press, they arrived at an elevator set into the wall.
The guard, his gun still aimed at Sly, stretched out one hand and pressed a small white button below a speaker next to the elevator doors. He then released the button.
After a moment, a gruff voice on the other end responded.
"Yes."
"Sir…I have something you would like to see." The guard said, turning and grinning evilly at Sly as he said this.
"Who is this? Is this Colonel Grant?"
"No, sir. Sergeant Bolan."
"All things that are to be brought into my presence are to be first checked by Grant, and then brought to me by Grant and Grant only."
"But sir…this thing very important. Very."
The guard, although slightly nervous at the voice's rebuttal, once again managed to crack a grin at what he must've thought would give him a promotion on the spot.
After a long pause, the voice replied. "Come up."
The elevator doors then slowly opened, and the guard once again gestured for Sly to enter first. He reluctantly did so, and just as the guard stepped inside, the doors slid shut behind him. The guard kept his back to the closed doors, gun pointed at Sly, who backed against the opposite wall of the elevator. He glanced up and saw that the only feature of the elevator's interior was a single light bulb in the center of the ceiling, which gave off a pale light.
After a moment, the elevator started up with a low hum and the usual feeling of slowly rising. It was then that Sly noticed that, on all four sides, the walls were moving down, almost like waterfalls of metal. It was almost impossible to tell, since the walls were almost completely featureless, with the sole exceptions being long strips of reinforced metal every dozen or so feet. He looked around at all walls, trying to make sense of what was happening. Then he looked down, and realized that, instead of an elevator with a metal interior, he was in an elevator constructed purely of glass, since he could see through the floor of the elevator at the bottom of the shaft slowly receding as the elevator moved higher, as well as several cables dangling below and waving back and forth as it moved up. He then looked up and saw a hole at the top of the shaft, where he could see the night sky and several stars slowly approaching.
Eventually, the elevator finally reached the top of the shaft. It emerged from the dark, confining, depressing metal shaft and emerged into the glass half of the shaft. It was then that Sly could finally see the elevator's true form. It was truly a glass box, even with glass doors that must have opened perfectly simultaneously with the metal doors earlier so that Sly didn't notice them.
He watched as the elevator rose up past the roof of the factory, which still appeared very large and bulky from above. As it rose higher, he could see the shorter buildings of the facility stretching out away from the factory, moving out along the valley floor, the grass on one side, and the peninsula of rock from the Volcano's base on the other side. He glanced off to the left, and saw the lone building off in the distance.
He turned around and looked behind him at the cliff wall rising up behind him, the only barrier between the wall and the elevator being the glass tube. It was of sheer, flat rock, with hardly any jutting rocks or crevices. He realized that it must have been neatly and painstakingly carved to make way for this elevator shaft. He could only imagine how long that, as well as the rest of this massive facility, must have taken…
Then, before he knew it, the elevator was surrounded on all sides by metal once again. He looked around frantically, but by the time he had just gotten used to the metal surroundings again, the elevator jerked to a halt.
The guard still had his back to the doors, which Sly expected to open at any time.
However, he heard the sound of doors opening, and it took him a moment to realize that it was coming from behind him. He spun around, now realizing that there was a set of doors in the opposite wall, too. They were slowly opening, as were their metal counterparts.
So that's why the guard kept his back to the side we came in from.
The doors opened all the way, and this time, Sly didn't wait for the guard's shove. He stepped inside the chamber that rested at the top of the glass tube, directly at the edge of the Volcano's crater.
In comparison to the rest of the facility that he had seen up until now, the interior of this section was rather shocking in its out-of-place luxury and first-class atmosphere. On each side of the door were tall, green saplings in stone pots with intricate carvings in them, depicting certain people and creatures commonly seen in Greek mythology. Hanging from the ceiling overhead was a crystal chandelier, with the rings of crystals getting smaller and smaller from top to bottom, ending with a single, large crystal hanging down from the middle of the chandelier, three rings of crystals above it. In the center of the metal floor was a red carpet, rising up above the floor only very slightly, and with not a single hair out of place. On the walls of metal hung numerous paintings, all perfectly lined up with each other, and not even a single one out of place by even a centimeter. He recognized the work and style of some of the paintings almost instantly from past heists, and was able to match several of the works with their artists, including even Vincent Van Gogh and Leonardo Da Vinci. Just on the other side of the red carpet was a wooden desk, neatly polished and carved from the finest oak. Sitting on the desk was a computer monitor, a lamp, a smaller potted plant, several papers, what appeared to be an intercom speaker, and a brown ashtray.
And sitting at the desk, in a chair of black leather with black armrests and a black swivel stem with six legs with wheels at the end of each leg, was a badger, his feet up on the desk, arms folded in front of him.
His beady eyes, which were looking up at the chandelier a moment ago, slowly lowered down and rested on Sly. His eyes widened, and for a moment, shock seemed to register on his face.
Then the shock slowly turned to happy surprise, which then turned to satisfaction.
"Why, hello there, Mr. Cooper." He spoke up in a voice that was very different from the tough, intimidating voice that Sly had heard over the speaker.
The badger slowly pulled his feet off of the desk, then eased up out of the chair, walking around the desk slowly, one hand lazily brushing along the smooth, polished oak of the desktop. Finally, he came around the desk and stood directly between the red carpet and wooden desk, facing Sly and the guard, who moved further into the chamber, stopping right at the center of the red carpet.
Now that Sly had a complete, unobstructed view of the badger, he did a quick once-over from head to toe. The badger, who was clearly the man in charge of this place, whose voice commanded so much elegance and authority, shockingly enough, was the shortest man in the room. He was barely five feet tall, but was not necessarily overweight. Almost instantly, Sly was reminded of Chief Inspector Henry Barkley, except this man clearly had a more even temper and commanded authority in a manner more subtle than the often red-headed and curt Barkley. He also wore a neat, clean, firmly-pressed black outfit, with a black short-sleeved shirt, black dress pants, a black belt with a shiny gold buckle, and black, steel-toed boots.
Similarly, the badger did a good once-over of his newest unannounced guest. After a couple up-and-down glances, he nodded his head in a gesture not necessarily of approval of acknowledgement, but more of acceptance.
He then turned his beady eyes to the guard who delivered his prisoner to him.
"You, Sergeant…"
"Bolan, sir." The guard reminded him.
"Sergeant Bolan, I hope you realize who this man here is."
"Um…sir?"
"How exactly did you come across this man?"
"He was sneaking around rocky backside of Volcano, sir. Sneaking up on facility from behind. I find him and take weapons."
"Ah. What weapons was this man carrying?" He asked, sounding genuinely inquisitive, but with a slight tone in his voice that barely hinted that he already knew what weapons Sly had on him previously.
The guard lowered his AK-47 briefly to first pull Sly's pistol out of his belt. He tossed it into the air to flip it around and take it by the barrel, handing the handle end to his superior.
The badger slowly reached a hand out and took the weapon, flipping it around in his hand and inspecting it up and down, rubbing the sleek barrel with one finger several times.
"Ah. A Smith & Wesson 9-millimeter. Very nice, Mr. Cooper." The badger then held out his other hand. "And his other weapon? The one that I'm all too familiar with."
The guard then reached for the Cane in his belt, pulled it out slowly and steadily like a sword from a sheath, and took it by the hook, handing it to the badger.
He slowly wrapped his fingers around it one at a time, as if handling the Holy Grail. He slowly gripped the firm, ancient wooden stem, felt the golden hook with the curved, hooked tip, scanning it up and down its full length with his two marbles for eyes.
"Ah. The weapon that has been in your family for centuries, maybe even millennia. What has kept this Cane in such fine condition after all that time? Perhaps we'll never know."
The badger slowly turned around and placed the Cane on top of his desk, sliding it along the smooth wood towards his chair.
He then turned around, ever so slightly raising the pistol still in his hand.
"Mr. Cooper, I don't know what it was you were intending to do, sneaking up on my facility like you apparently were. I don't know what you thought you would do, and I don't know how you thought you would achieve this goal, whatever it was. But I can safely tell you that whatever plan you had has been officially sabotaged, swiftly and neatly. You have failed."
At the last three words, Sly felt that horrible pang of dread, of fear, of worry that accompanied that last word every single time he heard it in this manner. Failure.
"And this is what happens to someone who fails, Mr. Cooper."
The badger then slowly, ever so slowly, raised Sly's own pistol, now firmly gripping the handle, his index finger ever so slowly slipping through the trigger guard and over the trigger itself. Now the barrel was level, parallel with the floor, aimed straight at Sly's head.
The single finger slowly started to apply pressure to the trigger.
In that moment, Sly found himself in a position he had never ever found himself in before, and never would ever again. It was a feeling of hopelessness, of surrender, of giving up. Restrained by this massive guard, in the heart of the enemy territory, and with his own pistol about to end his life, he felt a strange, unusual sense of irony. Irony in the fact that his own weapon was going to kill him, irony at the fact that he was giving up when he had felt more confident than he ever had before.
He closed his eyes and waited.
Finally, the trigger was pulled back as far as it could go. The gun fired, and the bullet found its target.
To be continued…