Chapter 17 - "Tailor-Made Terror" - Calm Before the Storm

...

"Sly?" cooed Carmelita innocently, currently wedged against the window of the small car.

"Yes?"

"If you don't stop touching me there, I'm going to rip your arm off."

To say that the car ride from Claire's apartment in Liverpool to London was cramped would be a gross understatement. Without any other options for transportation presenting themselves, as Murray's van was most likely in an impound lot back in Paris, the newest unofficial member of the Cooper Gang offered to let them use her Peugeot 206. The 206, in its own, is seen by most as a wonderful little 4-seater for taking little forays into town. Its current use, however, saw it ferrying 7 passengers of varying sizes, as well as a large collection of London maps and building schematics that Bentley had seemingly pulled from nowhere, halfway across the country. The first leg of the trip started off fairly uneventfully, with Luc giving them all another part of the story involving Clockwerk and Ambroise, but the situation quickly devolved from there. Murray was currently sitting shotgun as Claire drove, trying their best to ignore the banter that had been going on between Sly and Carmelita for almost the entire trip. While Carmelita had the seat nearest the window on the left side of the vehicle, Luc occupied the space nearest the right and had managed to lull himself into an almost meditative trance. Bentley, sitting next to the oldest of the gang, had Penelope sitting in his lap so that they could allow Sly and Carmelita to sit next to each other. Over the course of the trip, however, the turtle had begun to wonder if letting them be so close was such a good idea.

"Touching you where?!" Sly responded defensively, sounding almost hurt. "I haven't moved in the last half hour!"

Carmelita made to point out that he had been slowly working his arm towards her, but she made the mistake of looking him directly in the eyes. 'Darn those eyes of his. If he wasn't ...'

"I mean, if you want, I'd be happy to oblige..." he quipped with a quick wiggle of his eyebrows. He began to realize that this may have been the incorrect way to follow up his last sentence as he watched the fox next to him slowly begin to break down into a fit of hysterics.

Penelope clapped her hands over her ears. "Make it stop!"

Luc sighed quietly to himself, scrunching his eyes closed just a little bit tighter. Great age normally brings along with it a great sense of patience, but he had never experienced anything quite as trying as the situation he found himself in right now. This was going to be a long trip.

...

The next two and a half hours passed by much the same as the rest, but the gang began to gradually quiet down as they realized that they were getting closer and closer to their destination, as well as the first time that they were going on the offensive against the infamous Numbers that they had only briefly encountered in the past.

Sly rested his left hand on Carmelita's thigh, his fingers beginning to drum nervously of their own accord. He shot her an apologetic look as she put her hand on top of his. Letting her wrap her fingers around his in a form of mutual apology, he turned his head to face Bentley, who was regarding the headrest in front of him with more unblinking attention than should be deserved. "Hey, Bent?"

Bentley started slightly, his concentration broken as his friend tapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, Sly?"

"We do have a plan going into this thing, right?"

The turtle shifted himself slightly in his seat, holding on to the mouse sitting in his lap with one arm so as to not accidentally unbalance her. "We, uhh..."

"Good to hear."

"Quiet, Sly." The turtle adjusted his spectacles with his free hand. "First things first, we need to find some place to coop up. This is going to take more than just one day."

"Any idea where to start? We got pretty lucky in the past-"

"Like that cave outside of Rajan's," Murray added from his spot up front.

"Yeah, so... Ideas?"

Bentley furrowed his brow together. "Nope."

Sly smiled and let out a loud sigh. "Sis?"

The raccoon driving the car let out a sigh that rivaled his. "I really don't know how I feel about being called that."

If there was one thing that Sly liked to do almost as much as thieving , it was to find people's buttons and push them relentlessly until they were on the brink of insanity. This time, however, much to the silent surprise of everyone in the van, he did the unthinkable:

"Sorry, I'll... hold off on that. I was gonna ask; do you know anywhere we could hide out? Abandoned buildings, or anything like that, near the center of the city?"

So I'm his sister now, huh? Let's see... He probably doesn't keep in contact with his parents anymore, so we have that in common. We're both raccoons. Technically unemployed...

Looking into the rear-view mirror, she was pulled out of her thoughts as she caught an inquisitive glance from her questioner. "Well, uhh... what would work as a...?"

"Safe house."

"...Yeah. What would be a good one of those?"

Sly looked around at the rest of the gang, pulling himself forward in his seat. "Well, anything, really. We've used caves, coffee shops, apartments, batteries; you name it. Just any old thing that nobody would walk into if they were just passing by."

Claire paused in thought, racking her- 'batteries?' -mind for anything that would fit the bill from her many forays into the city. "Well... There's an old tea shop about two kilometers from Westminster, would that work?"

"I believe it would, Miss Cooper," answered Bentley, pulling a more recent map from the cluster he had wedged between the seat cushions. "Do you remember the name of it"?

"I doubt it would be on any maps," she continued, hearing papers being shuffled around behind her. "It's been vacant for ages, since before I was born even."

"Perfect!"

...

"It's beautiful!"

Sly was the first to exit the car, glancing quickly around before he ducked into the alley that bordered one side of the red and brown brick building that had obviously seen better days. Launching himself quickly on top of a dumpster, he unlatched an upper window and pulled himself inside.

Bentley was the next to leave the confines of the Peugeot, clicking his wheelchair into place before lowering himself down. Helping Penelope out next, Luc and Carmelita practically spilled from the opposite door as the pressure keeping them inside was finally lifted.

"Gaaaaaaahhdamnit these old bones of mine..." A cloud of steam followed his words as his breath met the cold London air.

Carmelita offered a hand to the aging bat, which was graciously accepted as he righted himself. He turned to pull his briefcase from still within the car, but paused.

"...How did he...?" Tucked between the cushions of the rear seats was Sly's cane, it's tip just visibly sticking out. Luc sighed, he had now idea how the raccoon had managed to fit it in there, but it really didn't matter at this point. Pulling it from its nest, he tucked it beneath a wing and then began to make his way towards the entrance. Ascending the quick two steps up to the door, he ran a wing over the dusty window before peering in. Spotting the silhouette of a raccoon inside, he let out a series of quick taps on the door to draw it's attention, which was only answered with a quick wave as the dark figure darted into one of the back rooms. Luc sighed and turned away from the door towards the group that had gathered behind him.

"It seems as though Cooper has gotten himself distracted."

Bentley's hand connected with his face. "He does this occasionally. Just... wait, and he'll unlock the door in a minute. Probably."

Claire turned to him. "...Probably?"

Bentley merely waved her away.

...

Sly alighted softly on the other side of the window he had let himself in with, dropping into an instinctive crouch as he looked through the dust his impromptu door had unsettled. Seeing nothing that could be perceived as a threat, and expecting nothing of the sort, he continued past the sink and stall- 'Guess I'm in the bathroom.' -and out the door into the main room of the old shop.

Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the vacant space, he ran his eyes from one end of the room to the other: There was what appeared to be a large copper espresso machine on the counter that ran the length of the wall opposite the main entrance. There were two or three tables dotting the main lobby, with a number of chairs placed upon them in storage, and a few dusty frames containing unrecognizable works of art dotted the walls of the otherwise unremarkable room. A thick layer of dust seemed to be almost painted onto everything within sight. Bentley's allergies were going to have an absolute field day in here.

Hearing a knock from the door, he turned to walk towards it when something caught his eye from the opposite room. Waving briefly in the direction of the knock, he continued forwards. Peeking his head through the open door and glancing quickly around, he was able to find the object in question; a massive, dull black safe that looked to be from the turn of the century. Sly let out a long, low whistle as he walked up to it. Running his fingers along the edges of the object, his mind began to drift towards the faraway islands of Sir Raleigh.

As much as he wanted to crack right into it and relive some of his 'glory' days, another series of knocks, followed by a few choice threats from his recently betrothed, drew him out of his thoughts and back towards the door. A few quick flicks of his wrist undid the aging lock without issue, and the rest of his gang quickly stepped inside.

Bentley promptly burst into a fit of uncontrollable sneezing.

...

After the car had been stashed in the alleyway where Sly had made his entrance, the remaining bags and maps were brought in and tucked behind the counter until a better place for them could be found. Sly had hoisted himself into the rafters, lounging against a crossbeam as he busied himself with polishing the tip of his cane while he let the more 'tactically minded' sort out what they were to do next. He really did love moments like these. The 'calm before the storm', being all together in the same room one last time before they were split up in the field, each hoping that the others were doing better than they were. He found it odd how Bentley changed when he was giving a presentation; the normally soft-spoken turtle really seemed to come out of his shell, shooting down troublesome suggestions and enacting his own as he tried to reach the end as efficiently as possible, thumbing through papers and annotating slides quickly and accurately. All eyes were focused on the projected diagrams and maps.

In direct contrast to Bentley, Carmelita's normally loud and commanding demeanor was seemingly forgotten as she kept herself quiet, eyes riveted and ears perked. He had never seen this side of her so closely before, her fiery temper normally overpowering any sense of subtlety she may possess.

"Sly, did you get all that?"

The raccoon shook his head quickly, clearing his mind as he looked down to see six pairs of eyes all locked on him. He hadn't been paying a lick of attention, but that had never seemed to hinder him before. "A quick recap right before we head out and I'll be good to go."

Bentley gave a huff, seemingly satisfied with the answer. "Alright, then. Sly, go get ready to head out and do some reconnaissance. We've never operated here before, so we'll be pretty much blind until you do a bit of snooping."

Sly nodded, leaping across the rafters and into the opposite room. As the dust settled, Bentley turned back to face the rest of the gang. "Luc, you're the only one with any real information on our target here. What can you tell us?"

Luc reclined in his seat, his legs crossed and eyes closed as he mulled over all that had been said. "Celine has had a number of covers over the years, her current, if memory serves, is that of a fashionista in the eastern side of the city."

Claire looked over at him, a puzzled expression covering her features. "I'm sorry, but, what? Why would the 'Numbers' need that?"

Luc smiled through his closed eyes. "Think about it, my dear. All of the wealthy in this part of the world, when they have everything, what is something that they can never seem to get enough of?"

The female raccoon eyed him oddly. "Clothes?"

Luc opened his eyes and winked at her. "There is a reason why the lions gather near the watering holes."

Bentley gathered his papers, scribbling a few hasty notes across the pages. "Do you know exactly where? The quicker we get onto this, the easier it will be for all of us."

"Don't fool yourself into thinking this will be an easy venture, Bentley," continued the bat, closing his eyes again as he reclined. "Celine plays the part of damage control, controlling and twisting rumors and making those that may prove to be troublesome 'disappear' with little fuss. She is dangerous."

The turtle swallowed nervously, continuing to press onwards. "R-Regardless, we have to move if we want to do this."

"I've dealt with creeps like this in the past," added Carmelita as she stood up. "We're all in this together, greeny. We'll be able to handle it."

Bentley cleared his throat before continuing on, attempting to brush off the unusual nickname, "Well, next order of business is a bit more... personal." Everyone turned to look at him. "Y-Yes, well, seeing as how we have three new members to the gang now, I felt like it would be best to make it official, so to speak." He reached into a storage compartment beneath his wheelchair and pulled out three small electronic devices. "These," he gestured towards them as he placed the objects on the table, "are binocucoms. Think 'cell-phone' but with incredibly high level encryption, low latency communication, and multifunction optical sensors." He picked one of them up back off the table and pressed a button on the side, which made it fold out into a more rectangular shape. "They started as a little side-project of mine a long time ago, and have since proven to be invaluable in the field.

Carmelita picked up the one closest to her, flipping it open as she brought it up to her eyes. A bright orange overlay greeted her vision as a field of indecipherable numbers flashed quickly in the lower right of the screen, forming a stylized fox head as they slowed. Various bits of information presented themselves on the display as she looked around the room; chemical compositions of objects, air purity, and biometric data about herself as well as those around her. The number indicating Bentley's heart rate quickened as she panned over him.

"It originally only functioned as a form of communication," he continued, "but Penelope and I discovered ways to miniaturize a good number of helpful instruments that now enable it as a fully-fledged reconnaissance device." The remaining two members of the gang picked up theirs, turning them over in their hands. Claire looked completely unsure of herself as she gingerly inspected it, not wanting to damage what was sure to be a very expensive piece of equipment. Bentley, noticing this, decided to use her device for the next portion of his demonstration. Taking hers back from her, he slammed it repeatedly into the table amongst shouts of protest.

"Hey!"

"Don't worry," he flicked it open, handing it back to her. "All internal components have been completely immobilized, and the finish is anodized titanium. Having Sly around has really made build quality an, ahem, top priority."

Choosing this moment to make his return entrance, Sly walked back into the main room, now wearing his usual blue shirt and beggar's cap instead of the disguise he had been given. "So are we going to do this or what? We don't need to take a year planning this."