Yes, perhaps this…this time it could be different.

At first, when Carmelita parted ways with Sly and headed towards the ship's bow, she didn't really have a plan in mind beyond "poke around until you find Raleigh or more proof of his wrongdoing." She only went the way she did because she wanted to get a closer look at the blimp hovering above everything, and she craned her neck upwards to study it when she reached the front railing.

It was about as big as she'd estimated it to be up close. Almost the entire front half was covered in lit windows that would've made it stick out like a beacon if not for the rain and fog it kept pumping out, helping to obscure the light within. A large, long chain was hooked at its tail, anchoring it to the ship from some place in the port side she couldn't see from where she was standing.

Searching for the other end of that chain seemed as good a starting point as any, so the fox began walking in that direction with her hand on her holster and her eyes darting between the blimp and her own surroundings. Getting seen out here because she was too focused on her own goal would be a very careless mistake that she wasn't keen on making. Her partner would never let her live it down.

Eventually she found what she was looking for – on the outer hull on the port side, the chain disappeared into a hole screwed directly into the ship itself. Carmelita eyed how far down it was from the deck, then began scanning for a hatch or a door nearby; it stood to reason that there had to be a way down into that part of the ship to adjust or remove the chain if need be.

The sound of footsteps made her crouch behind the nearest cannon as the two walruses whose boat they'd stowed away on came by with barrels over each of their shoulders. The inspector watched them stop at one of the more ramshackle buildings and push their weight against a wall; the thing swung open with ease and the two entered without a single glance around them.

It should have surprised her that even on his personal ship, Raleigh still had secret entrances to more secure locations, but it didn't. He wasn't the world's most infamous engineer for nothing.

Carmelita ran to the hidden door and slipped inside before it could close, afraid that it might lock her out if she didn't. The room she ended up in was dark, but she could see stairs in front of her and the goons' flashlights bobbing up and down as they made their way down farther ahead. After waiting a full minute for the sound of them to disappear, she followed. The further she went, the chillier the air grew even though she was out of the rain. It puzzled her until she reached the bottom of the stairwell and found a most bizarre sight to greet her.

It was the entire front hull of the ship, but where space and volume should have been there was instead seawater filling up a majority of the great expanse. Inspector Fox gaped as she stared at an assortment of broken boats of all kinds: wooden and metal, commercial and recreational, small and large – although never large enough to ever compete with the monstrosity whose belly they had ended up in. Every single one had either been stripped down to bare frames or were in the process of it, as she looked and saw dozens of people swarming about them like wasps picking a carcass clean. Others retrieved parts and cargo to be carted off to who-knew-where, no doubt to be repurposed into whatever mad machinations the frog had in mind.

It was a graveyard for ships. There was no other way to describe it.

She spent a full minute just gaping at it all in disgusted shock. There had to be at least ten boats that she could see, and that was just from here. Countless stolen boats, countless stolen goods – countless stolen lives – and all the evidence was right here. Instead of being thrilled for what she had just found, the fox furiously ground her teeth. All this wickedness and death because one rich asshole had gotten bored.

Well, he damn well was going to learn what true boredom was after she had put him behind bars. That was a vow she made to herself right then and there; Raleigh was going to face justice come hell or high water, no matter what.

Just as Carmelita had finished making that declaration in her head and started working her way deeper into the hull, there was a sudden silent vibration in her pocket. She sidestepped into the most unnoticeable place she could find, wedged between the wall of the ship and a large piece of scavenged metal, and pulled out her cellphone.

It wasn't a number she recognized, but she knew, almost implicitly, exactly who it was.

"Ringtail? Is that you?" She asked as soon as she answered. There was a strange, gulping sort of hiss on the other end that set her on edge. "What's that sound?"

"It's – it's me," Sly answered, voice flimsy and frail, and she realized that the unusual sound was his breathing. "I'm – it's – there's a – a problem, I can't…"

It was hard to make out what he was saying, but the single word made her stiffen, assuming the worst. "A problem? What kind of problem? Did someone see you?"

"Yes!" He whined. He whined, which floored her more than anything he was saying. "Seen, I was seen, we have to get out of here, kāi zǒu, we need to –"

"Okay, whoa, first you need to calm down." Her head was spinning as he babbled, as it hit her that they were in now a lot of trouble, but it would do neither of them good if she started spiraling as well. "I'm going to count to ten and I need you to breathe in and out along with me. Okay?"

He didn't answer. Only more of that shallow, hissing breath as he struggled through the throes of a panic attack.

"Sly. I need you to listen to me," the inspector repeated as calmly as she could manage, fighting her own dread with all the police training she'd ever received. "We can't make a plan until you've stopped panicking."

The raccoon made a sound like he was being strangled. Carmelita desperately wished she could find him to soothe him in person, but there wasn't enough time for that.

"I'm starting now. One."

"Inspector –" He begged, and for what she didn't know.

"One." She cut him off with as much authority as she could muster.

It seemed to do the trick. He gave an audible and incredibly stressed inhale, but he was doing as instructed. The fox could have breathed her own sigh of relief for it, and continued talking him down from his terror even as her own limbs were shaking and she peeked around the corner of her hiding spot to make sure no one was close enough to hear her quiet voice.

At the end of the countdown, she could no longer hear anything on the other end of the line, and she wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"How are you feeling, Ringtail?" She asked tentatively.

"…Better."

There was exhaustion and something else laced in his tone, but he sounded genuine, and it made her breathing a little easier. She glanced out at the open hull again as the second-most pressing matter reminded her that it needed to be dealt with.

"Good. Now, you said something about someone seeing you?"

"Yeah…one of Raleigh's goons saw me and ran off, and I lost track of her. She's probably already told him or is on her way to."

"Shit." Carmelita ran a hand through her bangs, biting her lip while she sped through all of their options. "Okay, we're going to have to expedite our process, then. I'm going to call for reinforcements and warn them about the storm. Hopefully, either they'll be able to make it through regardless or we can find a way to shut it down before they come."

It wasn't going to be safe for them to stay on the ship as soon as word got to the frog, but she was hesitant to suggest they leave immediately when she had just found the proverbial gold mine of Raleigh's criminal operation. She half expected her partner to ask for them to do so, anyway, and she couldn't say she blamed him.

"I…I don't think they'll have to worry about the storm for too much longer," the raccoon said instead, surprising her. "The reason I was caught was because I stumbled onto what I think was an engine room, and I sorta…destroyed a machine or two."

"Oh, great job! You sure got a lot done in fifteen minutes," she replied sincerely. Even scared, he was just as competent as any officer, and it put her at ease despite the situation. "I found a way into the bow where I think they haul in wrecks straight into the ship itself, but this place is so big that I'm probably going to be here a while."

"What about Raleigh knowing we're here? Are you sure that's safe?"

Sly sounded more worried for her than for himself, and she smiled to herself despite knowing he couldn't see it, checking her surroundings again.

"Please, Ringtail, give me some credit. If I can handle mob bosses and voodoo priestesses all by myself, I can handle however many lowlifes who are scavenging stolen parts. As long as you keep yourself safe and out of sight, which I know you can, I think we'll be okay."

It seemed to reassure him, and for a moment she thought he was going to end the call from the long silence. Just as she was about to suggest it, he spoke up again, much more subdued and miserable – and using a word that she didn't recognize at all.

"Cào, I'm sorry. I told you I'd be fine and then I screwed things up for you."

"It's…it's fine, Sly. Mistakes happen and we plan accordingly." She frowned thoughtfully, preoccupied, as she realized that he'd also slipped into a different language during his panic. It intrigued her. "I have a question, though – what was that language you were speaking earlier?"

"What? What did I say?"

"When you were saying we had to leave, you said something I didn't understand, and also right before you apologized just now – it sounded like…" Carmelita knew she was going to butcher the word, but she tried anyway. "Ta-ow?"

"Oh, you heard that, huh?" There was a funny note to his voice that told her very clearly he had not meant to do that. "That was Mandarin. You probably shouldn't repeat that last word out loud. It's, uh, not very nice."

Mandarin was not commonly taught in schools in the States, as far as she knew. It piqued her curiosity about his life and family again, but she knew she had to tread carefully so as not to step on his toes. "Is that the source of your accent?"

"I have an accent?" It sounded as though the mere idea was a shock to the raccoon.

"You do. It's very faint, but I noticed it the first time we met. I couldn't place it." And truth be told, she hadn't really noticed it since. It was simply another part of him just like his masked face and sarcastic nature.

"…Huh."

"You didn't know?" The inspector prodded, surprised.

"It's not my first language," Even through the phone, she could hear bitter bite in his tone. "I lived in Kunlun as a kid for a while. Picked up enough to get by."

Kunlun? That was somewhere in China, right? Carmelita wrinkled her nose as she wracked her brain for where she'd heard the name in her geography studies – she couldn't remember if it was a city, or a province, or something else, but it still plucked at her mind like an irritating, out of tune instrument.

"Anyway, sorry to give you a heart attack. I promise I'll be more careful until your officer friends show up." Sly's voice cut through her thoughts, calm and collected and…flat. It was as if he hadn't started the call in the middle of a mental meltdown. "Are we still meeting up again soon if nothing else changes?"

The fox blinked, caught off guard by his sudden disinterest. "Wh – yeah, we can do that. Just look out for yourself, okay, Ringtail?"

"I will."

Carmelita stared down at her phone as Sly hung up without any delay, absentmindedly plugging his number into a proper contact while she considered his switch in mood, the tiny glimpse into himself that he'd just shared, and the predicament they were now in. She didn't blame him for getting seen, nor his appropriate reaction to it, and she wondered if maybe that had been his impression; if maybe he had been so embarrassed once his emotions had calmed that he didn't want to talk to her. She wished that they had been together when this had happened, or at least closer, so that she could reassure him that everything truly was fine.

So, they were on a time limit to stop a member of the Fiendish Five before it was too late, with reinforcements too far out to be of immediate help, and only their own wits, skills, and each other to protect themselves. Third time around, the inspector found she wasn't as upset as she probably should have been. It was becoming a legitimate pattern now, but one she knew they could beat.

God, her life was weird.

Afraid to push her hideout's luck with a second phone call, she shot a text to the local chief constable she'd been working with to triangulate Raleigh's location telling her where she was, that she'd found the frog, and that she was requesting back-up as soon as possible. After a moment of hesitation, she sent a follow-up warning to beware of stormy weather. She fully believed that her partner had found a way to stop the storm machine, but it was always better to take precautions. And besides – she was determined not to let the pirate take down another ship.

Just as she was starting to creep back out into the open again, as if having been summoned by her thinking of him, there was another loudspeaker announcement that rang through the entire hull.

"Ahoy, dock hands! Capital job unloading that cargo today. You're the crown jewel of my operation."

Raleigh's voice was marginally more understandable this time, which Carmelita wasn't sure was because his speaker system was actually decent down here or because the acoustics were simply that strong. She flattened herself against the metal sheet she'd been hiding behind, watching the distant lantern lights of the workers around her all stop at once to listen to their boss' new message.

"Do me the service of proving your worth yet again by taking care of a little rodent problem I seem to be having." The frog inhaled, deep and nasally and irritated. "It appears there's a prowler on the premises. I want him caught within the hour and hand-delivered to me, alive. But if any of you let him slip through your fingers…"

A frenzied mix of rage and glee seeped into his tone, making the inspector's lips curl in repulsion.

"I'll personally flog the lot of you for an entire fortnight!"

The instant it became quiet again, the entire hull exploded with activity. Carmelita darted back into her safe place and watched as nearly half of the goons broke off from whatever they'd been doing to march up towards the deck. Their faces were hard with fear, clearly taking Raleigh's threat dead serious, which made her stomach churn.

She waited until the burst of movement among the crew died down before daring to step out and begin exploring the place. The men all seemed to believe that they'd find Sly elsewhere, and she was going to take advantage of the thinning in their ranks to find as much evidence as she could – and perhaps where that damned chain to the blimp was.

It was a perfect opportunity, and yet…she couldn't get Sly's words, his terror over being seen out of her head. How so many people had just rushed off to search the rest of the ship for him, and how Raleigh had wanted him captured alive. She knew her partner could take care of himself. She knew he was stealthier than her despite her extensive training, that he could probably circle all of the criminals looking for him without a single one of them realizing he was even there.

He'd be fine. He could handle it. He'd already stalled the ship and the storm machine, and proved himself just as capable a fighter as she was – well, almost. The inspector was pretty sure she could beat him in a fight on the very slim chance they ever ended up sparring. But the fact remained that she trusted the raccoon to look after himself, and so she refused to go back up until the hour was through. Sly would let her know if he was actually in danger.

Repeating the self-reassurance like a motivational mantra, Carmelita made her way further into the unusual "graveyard", searching for the hull of the ship to find the chain. Just as she expected, it was laughably easy to slip around the depleted crew as they kept at their jobs with single-minded determination. At one point she paused, watching several of them use giant hammers to knock pieces of boat right off their frames and into waiting arms, and wondered whether the sweat on everyone's brows was from the hard work or from the shadow of their oppressive boss looming over everything they did.

She shook her head and moved on. There wasn't any pity to be had for these people; they had chosen their profession, they had known the risks of their trade, and they should have known better than to work under a man as sadistic and unpredictable as the Fiendish Five's chief machinist.

After another ten minutes of careful hiding, sneaking, and spying, painfully aware of the half-hour limit they'd given each other before meeting up again that was rapidly approaching, the fox finally found what she was looking for. Threaded through the inner metal wall of the ship, a solid three meters above her head, the chain anchoring the outside blimp swayed and rattled in rhythm with a storm she couldn't see but could definitely feel. It trailed down past her view into ocean water she couldn't gauge the depth of.

Carmelita looked around for a crank, or some kind of lever that could change the length of the chain, and blinked in surprise when instead she saw an odd contraption at the far end of the dock she was standing on. It was round and compact, floating easily in the water, and she realized that it was a miniature submarine. When she glanced down the length of the hull, she could see at least four more of them docked and waiting to be used – no doubt for retrieving wreckages that the boat crews had not been fast enough to reach before their targets had completely sunk.

When she approached the one she'd first noticed, it was with dumbfounded excitement to find the keys were still in its engine. With one last glance around to make sure no one was noticing the hijacking, the fox climbed into the sub, closed the glass hatch, and began to sink into the dark water.

This was the exact moment her cell phone rang for a second time.

She pulled it out to see Sly's name lighting up the screen again. Confusion turned to panic and she answered immediately, assuming the worst.

"Sly! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Inspector." She could hear his surprise over the frantic use of his name, but otherwise he sounded as cool as when he'd last dropped their call. "Why, did something happen on your end?"

"Raleigh made an announcement to his crew down here to go after you."

His sharp intake of breath was a crack in the façade he seemed to want to maintain, and there was a definite shake to his voice.

"What – what did he say, exactly?"

The fox's gaze went back and forth between the view through the sub's window and the litany of buttons in front of her. She had taken a crash course in piloting contraptions like this during her time at the academy, but it was hard to focus when she was worrying about her partner's safety.

"He said there's a 'prowler' on the ship and that he wanted you delivered to him alive."

She expected a sound of relief, or maybe his assurance that he'd be fine, but there was only a distressing silence in response to her words.

"…Ringtail?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. Did he say anything else?" Sly's tone implied he was trying very hard not to fall apart over the phone again. "Any other details?"

"Not really? Uh – just that he'd beat his crew if they couldn't catch you."

"Fucking figures…" He muttered, making her frown in bemusement, but then continued before she could say something. "Okay. I appreciate the heads up and I can handle a bunch of moronic goons, but that's not why I called again. I was going to tell you that I think Raleigh is hiding in that storm machine. I've been searching this ship up and down and haven't seen a single webbed foot the whole time."

The submersible landed gently at the bottom of the submerged hull. Carmelita turned the searchlights on as the raccoon kept talking.

"We should figure out a way to bring the blimp to ground level so we can search it."

"Already one step ahead of you, Ringtail," she said, guiding the sub forward slowly if a little unsteadily. "There's a chain connecting it to the ship. I'm searching for the other end as we speak."

"Wow. You…have I ever told you that you're actually amazing?"

The inspector flushed scarlet, nearly dropping her phone in her sudden fluster. "Uh – no, no, you haven't told me that."

"Well, you are. I thought I should…let you know that. Just in case you didn't already know."

Alongside his endearment, there was…a note, to his words. Something self-conscious, and shy, and – and she stopped herself from thinking about it further because she was supposed to be piloting a very heavy piece of underwater machinery and she did not need the distraction.

"Thank you, Sly," she answered, hoping to convey all of her gratitude with none of the other thoughts. "And I want you to know that I think you're amazing, too. In case you didn't know."

The silence that followed indicated that either he didn't know, or he didn't expect the admission to ever leave her mouth. As Carmelita began searching for a way to break the sudden, unusual awkwardness that was settling between them, the sub spotlights landed on a very familiar chain.

"Oh! I think I found the blimp's anchor!" The fox exclaimed. Sure enough, she could see the chain looped around a winch that was welded to the metal ground, with a large crank sticking out of its side. All the metal was shiny and polished even in the water, which was a bizarre discrepancy. Why maintain something so far removed from everything else?

Someone as eccentric and paranoid as Raleigh, apparently.

"I'm going to try to bring the blimp down." The message that she would hang up the phone to do so went unspoken but understood. "I'll meet you at the front of the ship as soon as I do, because we're probably not going to have much time to get inside before they catch onto where we are. Sound good?"

"Works for me." Sly sounded relieved, and she couldn't blame him. The sooner they got this nightmare over with, the sooner they could leave this forsaken ship and be out of danger. "Just be careful, okay, Carmelita?"

"Of course, Ringtail. Same to you."

This time, ending the call felt less like a weight in her stomach and more like the temporary goodbye it was meant to be. The inspector turned her attention back to the winch, then started examining what the sub was equipped with. Seeing a control panel for a pincer-like gripping tool was a relief – she had not wanted to entertain the idea of having to physically climb out into deep ocean water just to interact with the contraption at all.

After a little bit of finagling, she learned how to move the claw – for lack of a better term – and began directing it towards the winch…

Only to be stopped completely as something slammed into the submersible.

Carmelita jolted sideways in her seat and swiveled the searchlights to her left, where she came face to face with an orange crab that was almost as big as the machine she was piloting. It stared her down with beady little black eyes on long, reedy eyestalks, but without any clothes, jewelry, or otherwise manmade things on its body, it was impossible to tell if the crab was like her or just an abnormally large, unevolved crustacean.

When it made no attempt to communicate or move towards her again, she turned her craft back towards the crank, reaching out with the sub's claw – until the crab slammed into her again.

"What the hell?!" She yelled, seeing a flash of orange in the corner of her eye through the window and barely jerking the submarine out of the way before the crab could clamp its gigantic claw around her own. It narrowed its eyes at her, made another grab – which she deftly avoided again – and that was what made her realize that the terrible thing was trying to stop her from touching the winch.

It was guarding it.

"Ohhhh no, you don't. Not today," the fox growled as she backed the sub out of the crab's range before it could swipe at her again.

It scuttled forward after her, both claws reaching out in what was definitely a threatening gesture, but Carmelita refused to be intimidated. Compared to brick-wall bulldogs and zombie hoards, this shellfish security guard was only serving to piss her off. They circled each other, sizing each other up as it kept trying to close the distance and she kept maintaining it.

Through the entire stalemate, her eyes darted all over the control board, looking for something to give her an edge if not an instant win. She didn't have the experience nor the finesse to wrestle the crab into submission with the submersible's claw, even though it was her first instinct to try. Instead, she held her patience until she found something she could use, and then continued holding on until she had a real opportunity.

That opportunity came when her enemy darted suddenly towards her, aiming its claw straight for her window. She swept her own pincer sideways in a large arc, and the clang of it striking the crab's claw was loud even underwater. It sent the shellfish reeling backward, momentarily unbalanced, and the inspector took advantage of the opening.

She slammed her hand down on a large green button, and the machine jolted forward very quickly as its speed boosters jumped to max power. It happened so fast that the crab had no time to move before the submarine slammed into it head-on, propelling it backwards until it hit the metal hull of the ship and crumpled in an unconscious heap.

Carmelita didn't give herself a moment to celebrate, afraid that the crab would wake up or that their fight had drawn attention from elsewhere. She grabbed the crank and began turning it as fast as she was able, watching the chain shorten around the winch with immense satisfaction. Only when it stopped moving with remarkable resistance did she let go and putter back up towards the surface,

The submersible had barely come out of the water before she was already opening the hatch and scrambling out of the seat. Miraculously, no one had noticed that one of their subs was missing – nor did they notice its reappearance or the outsider climbing out from within it and onto the docks. They were a well-oiled machine of labor, from loyalty to or fear of their leader, and thus the fox was able to slip back the way she'd come through all the way to the stairs.

She spared one last, scathing glance back at the gunboat graveyard and its damning evidence, and vowed to make the Welsh Triangle safe for innocent people again.

And that required putting a pompous, puffed-up polliwog in his proper place.

A/N: I wasn't originally going to rehash Sly's and Carmelita's first phone call in this chapter, but I realized her perspective on it might be interesting enough for it. Hope y'all don't mind.

My favorite thing about writing this one was that I got to combine my least favorite level in Raleigh's section - the crab minigame - with one of my favorite levels in the entire game - Gunboat Graveyard. Crab minigame does its job just fine, it's certainly not the worst one by a long shot, but it still annoys me on replays haha. Gunboat Graveyard is just so atmospheric and I love all the weird unexplained stuff in it (like the glowing jellyfish tank? What even was that?).

Our duo is racing against both the clock and the enemy now. Will Carmelita reach the frog in time to take him down? Will Sly find the still-missing pages of his book? Guess we'll just have to wait and see!