Chapter 20 - "Tailor-Made Terror" - Rising Heat

As they had done innumerable times before, the first creeping fingers of a new dawn washed silently across the rooftops of London, taking and bathing every building in turn in the fiery, optimistic hues of morning light. The many who found themselves walking the ever-busy streets at this particular moment greeted the light with indifference, continuing on about their tasks with little more than a blink and passive annoyance.

The rays soon found themselves draped across what was once a homely little tea shop, its aging red bricks greeting the morning with a warmth all their own. One current resident of the shop, however, found himself much less receptive to the morning light.

Sly brought a hand up to his eyes to block the few streams of intrusive light that filtered through the blinds, accidentally upsetting a few beads of sweat on his brow in the process and sending them flying very accurately into his eyes. Blinking uncomfortably at the sting of the salty liquid, he sat up and yawned cavernously, taking a few moments to himself in the silence to try and shake off what felt like two years of sleep. Looking to his side, he noticed a distinct and disappointing lack of Carmelita in the vacant space next to him. Stretching out his arms, he fully raised himself and took to getting dressed, deciding to go shirtless for the time being in protest of the heat.

As he walked down the hallway towards what had become the 'living' area, the air got hotter and thicker with every step, adopting an unpleasantly metallic taste. As he passed through the doorway, he saw the other members of the gang, sans Penelope, huddled around and focused intently on an air vent on the floor, all in various stages of undress in an attempt to combat the heat. "Why in the world," he started, drawing the attention of the others as he formed his words around another yawn, "did we pick have to pick an oven this time?"

Bentley looked up at his friend while Murray leaned back against the wall, panting heavily. Carmelita had a small, faded menu in her hand that she had re-purposed as a fan, while the rest of the gang looked as though they had very recently stepped out of a lake.

"Morning, Sly. Do you think you could come pry this vent cover off real quick? Careful you don't accidently touch it, though. It's hot." The turtle wheeled slightly away from the vent in question to indicate it, which also gave the raccoon a chance to see the distorted waves of rising heat that poured out of it. "Penelope should be back any second now with a probe."

"Why the heck is it so hot in here?" He said breathlessly as he stuck the end of his cane into the vent, grunting slightly as he freed it from its housing. He almost lost his balance as it gave suddenly into his weight with a hollow thwump.

"That's what we've been trying to figure out." The turtle flipped open a small display on the arm of his chair and gave it a quick once-over. "This is WAY too hot for any central heating, not to mention the power was probably cut to this building years ago, anyway."

Carmelita stood up from her crouch and planted a quick kiss on Sly, ignoring his wiggling eyebrows as best she could-she doubted she could ever become completely immune, unfortunately-as she took a seat at a table behind the group, almost bumping into Penelope as she drew her chair back neatly underneath the table.

"Good morning, Sly!" squeaked the mouse as she trotted quickly over to the vent with what looked like a small helicopter tucked beneath her arm. Her shirt had been tied into a knot above her midriff, exposing her belly button in an attempt at self cooling. She passed it quickly to a mildly blushing Bentley, who gave the rotor a quick flick to set it in motion before dropping it into the vent with a muffled wizz.

Sly pulled out a chair next to the one Carmelita had chosen and almost melted into it as he sat down, its legs squealing sharply against the floor as his weight pushed it backwards. "So what exactly are we doing?" he began, mimicking Carmelita by picking up a menu and fanning himself with it, sending dust flying in all directions. "What's the helicopter for?"

"After Bentley and I had some time to properly look over the pictures you took of Celine's workshop," began Penelope, answering for the turtle who was at the moment far too engrossed in the video feed of the helicopter to respond, "we decided to act on a bit of a hunch."

Bentley chose that moment to let out a loud, singular 'aha!', startling most of the group. An incredulous look on his face, he turned the display on his chair so that the others could see it. "You're not going to believe this, guys."

They all turned to look at the small screen and saw, through the hazy feed of the helicopter's camera, a mess of tangled wires that ran along the top of the vent joined by what looked like a spinning turbine, glowing red with heat.

Carmelita raised an eyebrow. "So what are we looking at?"

"This," he answered, his voice not believing itself as he spoke, "is the exhaust system for that archway we saw in Celine's lab." He typed a few frantic lines on the keypad on his chair, and a small secondary display appeared next to the RC's video feed, displaying a map of their surrounding area, with the tea shop they were in marking the center. "It looks like this system dumps heat waste here, and into a number of the other vacant buildings surrounding us."

"So we're hiding in a kiln, great. What exactly does that mean for us?"

Bentley couldn't tell who said it, his attention was dedicated far too fully to the helicopter's controls. "It means we might be able to use this ducting to sneak inside the lab, assuming we don't cook ourselves in the process. What we'd do once we're inside... I have no idea, but we'll work on that. I haven't told any of you this due to being sidetracked last night because of a certain... impulsive friend of mine,"

Sly offered him a lopsided shrug.

"-but I've been studying the recon photos that you took of the lab, Sly. There's... No, it couldn't be." He scrunched his brow together, as if dismissing his own idea as ridiculous.

Everyone shifted nervously, the silence only broken by a subtle rumble coming from Murray's stomach.

Sly spun his cane back and forth between his fingers impatiently. "Want to fill us in here, buddy?"

Before he could speak again, Luc shushed him with a motion of his wing and spoke up for the first time since the others had woken. "Anette is the key that is required for their entire plan to succeed," he said, his voice even rougher than usual before coughing sharply to clear it. "I had no idea we-" he cleared his throat sharply, correcting himself, "excuse me, they were this close. If your thinking is as I surmise, Bentley, then you are correct."

"I really hate being right sometimes," the turtle responded, frowning deeply. "That arch you found, Sly, is the nearly completed framework of a time machine. It's… rough, and doesn't appear to be functional at the present time, but everything that I could see in the reconnaissance photos points to it being up and running soon.

"Wait," Carmelita shook her head, furrowing her brow incredulously as her brain held up an enormous mental stop-sign. "...Time machine? You're kidding me, right?"

"A few years ago, I'd have called it crazy too," the turtle continued, "but I started trying to separate the science from the junk a few months after the job at the Cooper vault. The more Penelope and I looked into it, sometimes blatantly ignoring the laws of physics if they got in our way, it started to look possible. We were able to send a few small things forward a couple of weeks, but the power draw was far too large for anything much larger than, say, a pen. The size of this exhaust system, though... it looks like they might be trying for something far larger."

"I still don't- I mean... time machine?" Carmelita looked around, hoping that one of the others would fill her in on the joke that she was very obviously missing.

"Believe it or not, it's real," said Sly, putting down his improvised fan. "Bentley and Penelope stopped working on it after I came back, because I was really the only reason they were doing it. According to Bentley, 'some things are better left untouched by science' or however you said it," he finished, looking at his lifelong friend.

"So why are these guys making one?" Asked Murray, having produced a bag of chips from the thin air around him. "Isn't time travel, like, bad news?"

Bentley nodded. "You're right, Murray. Any meddling with the flow of time and space could be disastrous, and have far-reaching consequences if you're not careful. "He looked back at the display on his chair, quickly navigating the various sub-displays and data screens in a bid to make sense of it all.

"It was a whisper among the upper echelons of headquarters for some years," began the aged bat again, his voice sending an unsettling chill down Carmelita's spin. "I, myself, didn't believe anything would ever come of it as, much like Ms. Fox, I didn't believe such a thing was possible."

Sly reclined in his chair, putting his feet up on the table. "Your boss was a metal cat that could live forever, and the time machine was the impossible part?"

Luc huffed humorously. "I will concede that my reasoning was perhaps misguided then, but now I have no doubt."

"It's great these vents lead to the lab, and all," Sly began again, "but how exactly are we supposed to get passed that jet thing? It doesn't matter what they're doing if we can't throw a wrench in it, and the last few times I've had to sneak through boiling pipes I ended up leaving a bit of my skin behind." He absentmindedly moved a hand to a thinner patch of fur on the rear of his thigh.

"I'd rather not myself, as well. I'm none too fond of cramped spaces. Though I do trust you have a plan?" Luc finished, tilting his head in Bentley's direction in order to prompt a response.

The turtle scrunched up his eyebrows, making a thoughtful noise as he readjusted himself in his chair. "I have a couple of ideas," he paused and typed a few more lines on his keypad, "well, I have an idea, but a couple of you really aren't going to like it. Claire, Carmelita?"

The female raccoon perked up nervously. "Yes?"

The vixen simply looked his way, head cocked and eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You do both know your dress sizes, right?"

Sly laughed eagerly, letting his chair fall back to all four legs. "Ooh, I like where this is going."

"Hush, Sly," Chimed three voices at once. Bentley cleared his throat once more before continuing "Claire, Carmelita, I'm going to need both of you to be the distractions on this operation."

"Do we get a say in this?" Asked Carmelita, having restrained herself earlier from toppling Sly from his chair.

"I'm sorry, Inspector, but I don't see any other way that we could pull this off. I'm going to need both of you to walk into Celine's shop and pose as customers. I'm sure if you spend enough time looking at some of the higher-ticket items, she'll come out to help you. I'll then need you to keep her distracted for as long as you can while Sly and I sneak through this vent and into her lab. Murray?"

"Yo!"

"I'll need you to make your way to the back of the shop and stand watch. If we're discovered inside, there's sure to be a call for reinforcements, and I'll need you to keep them from coming in the rear entrance and causing problems for the rest of us. Best case scenario, though, nobody realizes we're inside and everything goes off without a hitch."

"Funny, Bentley," Sly deadpanned.

"A man can hope." He paused and cleared his throat. "That's... really all I've got right now."

The group raised a collective eyebrow.

"This whole thing is still a few days out, at best, and I need to crunch some serious numbers if we're gonna want even the slightest chance at coming out of this on top. In the meantime, try to take it easy. All of you. I'll let you all know when the time is close, and when I've planned out in greater detail what your roles will be."

At that, and a few dismissive gestures from the turtle to ward off questions as he sunk back into his displays, the group dispersed. Sly dropped slightly back from the rest and grabbed Claire by the arm before she could leave. He nodded his head in the direction of an adjacent room as she looked nervously up at him, her arm tense beneath his hand.

Alone with him now, her eyes flitted from surface to surface in the sparsely furnished room, trying to land anywhere but the raccoon across from her.

"You ok?"

She paused at his question. "Do you mean, like, as a whole? Or?" She laughed hollowly, unsure of what to make of the question. You ok? Really? Dragged across the country by a gang of international criminals and now ACTIVELY PROVOKING what she was sure had to be some of the most vile people on the planet. She sighed. "I.. don't know. Carmelita and Penelope were doing a pretty good job of keeping my mind off of things yesterday." Her eyes drifted again. "I like them."

"They're both pretty easy to like," Sly agreed. "I'm glad they're helping you out. I'm trying my best, I'm just not really good at the whole... interpersonal conversation thing.

Bentley chose that moment to wheel briefly across the entrance to the room, not looking up from his keypad as he did so. "Big words, Sly. Don't hurt yourself."

Sly grinned sarcastically as Claire tried to stifle a laugh.

She calmed herself as the last traces of a giggle worked their way out, her face softer now than before. "Bentley's pretty ok, too, I guess."

"Wouldn't trade him for anything."

"I just... I'm a hotel clerk." She stressed the words, trying to press how ridiculous her situation was. "I don't know the first thing about any of this, and you just suddenly pop up out of nowhere with a bunch of strangers at my apartment going 'hey, were related, and the same people trying to kill me are trying to kill you!' How am I supposed to be feeling right now?" She paused with another sigh. "Because I have no idea."

Sly propped himself up on the only dusty table in the room, his legs dangling from the side. "I'm nervous too, y'know."

She looked back up at him, unsure. "How could you be? Isn't this kind of, like, your thing? Wouldn't it be like if a chef was afraid of spaghetti?"

The male raccoon snorted, his lips curling into a smile. "Ask any of the others, and they'll agree. I mean, yeah, we get dragged into this sort of thing all the time, but it never gets any easier. Bullets are a little bit scarier than noodles."

Her face blanched at the word 'bullets', and Sly quickly worked to try and alleviate her fears. "But we've always pulled through. Always. There isn't any other place I'd rather be than with these guys, even if the day-by-day company gets a little hairy."

"Not sure if I'm convinced."

He shrugged. "You'll just have to see. These things just kind of... come together when it counts."

She paused in her thoughts, eyes focused intently downwards. "I guess I will, then. Not like I really have a choice."

"That's the spirit." Sly hopped down from the table and started towards the door. "Bentley's probably gonna have me running all over the place soon, but I'm always free if you want to talk things over. I'd like to catch up a bit later, if that's ok."

Claire blinked quickly and looked up. "Uh, yeah. Sure. I think I'd like that."

….

"I can't believe I'm going along with this," groused Carmelita, tugging at her collar as she made her way towards the entrance to the store that served as the front for Celine's entire leg of the operation. As she drew ever closer, a feeling of unease began to creep through her body, gaining intensity with every step she took.

Three days had passed since the discovery of the exhaust vents in the safehouse, and in that span of time Bentley had come up with what sounded like, to her at least, a fairly watertight plan. Nothing flamboyant or overly complicated like she had expected from a bunch of cat burglars such as the Cooper Gang, she admitted. The past few weeks had definitely been full of firsts, that's for damn sure, and now to actually be working side by side with Cooper and all of his delinquent friends? She decided not to think too deeply into the matter, figuring that there would be plenty of time to sort out the mess of tangled emotions that tied around her heart once all of this was over.

"Just stay calm, and try not to touch your earpiece; we don't want them starting to suspect anything," came Bentley's voice from over the small device she had placed in her ear. "Remember, you're here to be a distraction, so get her attention as quickly as you can, and keep it. Claire?"

The female raccoon moved her hand to place it against her ear, but stopped herself. "Yes?" She replied, the device in her own ear picking up her voice and transmitting back to the safehouse.

"There should be a small cafe a short distance in front of the target shop," said Bentley. "I'll need you to wait there until I give the signal, then you're to go and join Carmelita on the inside. Do you see the cafe?"

Claire looked around the small clearing until she was able to find the cafe in question. It was a small, hole-in-the-wall shop with a handful of tables and chairs set outside to handle any extra guests that couldn't fit comfortably into the modest interior space. "Yeah, I see it."

"Good, head there now, and try to act natural. Inspector, you go ahead and make your way into the shop, and be careful. I don't think I need to say how bad it would be if they found out what you were up to in there."

Carmelita nodded to herself, steeling up the nerve necessary to make her way forwards. She had undergone her fair share of undercover work in the past, but the feeling of being only inches away from certain demise should you be discovered wasn't something that just went away with experience, which was probably all for the better. Complacency kills, after all, she thought to herself. Best to stay on your toes, no matter what the situation.

….

Bentley flipped back and forth between a number of screens that he had in front of him, the faint heat coming from them all doing absolutely nothing to help the absolutely sweltering temperature in the safehouse. The heat had been steadily ramping up over the past few days, which pointed to something big going down in the depths of Celine's lab. Ideally, he would have wanted a few more days to put together a more intricate plan, but the rising temperature quickly put an end to that bit of hopefulness.

He reached forwards and held down the 'transmit' button on an elaborate looking radio transmitter in front of him, it's boxy shape absolutely covered in antennas, radar dishes, and various other bits of communications whatsits that he could use to manipulate the airwaves in whichever way he saw fit. "Alright, Murray, the girls are in position. Where are you at, big guy?"

The Hippo's voice crackled to life over the headphones Bentley was wearing. "I'm in position behind Celine's shop, two alleys down."

"Good, Murray. Ok, one of the buildings along that alleyway should be the primary heatsink for Celine's lab. With how much the temperature has been ramping up here at the safehouse, you should be able to tell which building it is just by touching the door. Once you find it, find a way inside and figure out a way to block off any vents that you find inside, but don't actually seal them just yet. We need to wait until Sly is inside to put the distraction into effect."

"Got it!"

Bentley swiveled around in his chair to face the opposite wall, where Penelope was currently watching a small number of screens herself. In front of her on was an assortment of controllers and transmitters that were all set up as fail-safes, should her main control pad somehow malfunction. "Are you all set, Penelope?"

The demure mouse gave a thumbs-up over her shoulder, too engrossed in her current tasks to verbally respond.

The turtle smiled, and then called out loudly into the main room of the safehouse. "Sly, Luc, you two good to go in there?"

"All set and ready to go, buddy. Just give the word," came Sly's voice, answering back. His voice carried with it the same sort of infectious, care-free confidence that Bentley had come to rely on during their heists as an anchor and foil to his tendency to worry about every little thing.

Bentley completed the rotation in his chair and turned to a screen that showed the current positions of everyone currently out in the field. Satisfied that all of the pieces of the puzzle were now in place, and with the orange dot that represented Carmelita now only a few yards away from the entrance to Celine's shop, he reached out and, with a deep breath, held down the 'transmit-all' button. "Alright, guys, this is it. This is going to be the first one of these 'Numbers' guys we've gone up against, so be ready just in case you have to think on your feet. Let's do this."

AN: The next chapter, 'The Heist', is the one that you all and I have been waiting for. I got a PM asking me to just nut up and confirm that this story was in fact dead and abandoned, and to that I say never. This story is a friend of mine that has gotten me through some tough times, and it will never be abandoned. I'm always thinking about it, piecing it together in my head, no matter what else I may be working on at the moment. This story is not going to die unless I do. Thank you all, and we'll be right back.