Chapter 6:
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The cat slowly let her tongue roll up her fur, bushels of shed fibre piling on before she flicked it away, paw outstretched and claws grasping at the air.
She then turned it the other way, looking along the top, before letting her eyes gaze up at the figures in the cells. "And how are my honoured guests this day?" she asked, purring as she strutted forward, the tiger and lion by her flanks holding back as she advanced. Her former allies, now guests, stood back in their new abodes and kept their gaze off her. But her little play thing? The one her beloved had tasked her to crack. She purred. Their eyes met. She leant down and dove forward onto all four paws and then leapt, slamming into the cold bars and gripping them tight, face thrusting through. "Doctor Billy Silv…"
She didn't get to finish her statement, leaping back as a flying kick swung out at her, the cat pushing off and out only to feel bone and the blunt knuckles of his claws slam into her, her nose stinging as the world tipped over around her.
The lion and tiger raced forward, the entrapped William Silverfox stepped back, raising his arms into a fighting stance only for a dull rolling chuckle to cut them all off.
Felicity, lying back on the floor, one paw over her bloody nose and the other up to hold off her escort, laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
Chuckling as she got off the floor, wiping the spilling red liquid from her face and eagerly licking it up, the odd purr coming out as she did so.
William watched on as she finished cleaning up and then, her nose still flowing, walked forward, tongue occasionally coming out to lick up the new gift she was giving herself.
The fox just looked back, blankly.
"-I like a mammal who makes it a challenge," the pallas cat smiled, smirking. "Who understands that it is a bit of play that makes life spicy."
He was silent.
"-You know," she said, glancing down at an outstretched red paw. "It's not very polite to give your hostess the silent treatment. Hmmmm? And after I treated you so well?"
He exposed a slight scoff, a wicked grin growing across her muzzle.
"Now come on… -Though I suppose you don't actually know what being a prisoner of mine is like, hmmmm? I can assure you here and now that if you cooperate, you'll be safe. You'll be there when Rattigan brings in a new dawn. As will your two new friends." She smiled, waving over at them. "We just couldn't let them run away, let their impatience ruin what will be the greatest moments of their lives. Honestly, we're the charitable ones here. Me, my Ratty… -And all we ask for you is a little help when he gets back from his important business trip down south. Old languages to be decoded, ancient…"
Dr Silverfox scoffed.
"Oh…? What's so funny dear. I thought you'd love to look at those pretty pictures, to…"
He broke into laughter, shaking his head before finally levelling it at her. "You're asking me to decode something in Aztgat petroglyphs or something? To help with… What, whatever brought back this Sly Cooper? Well, even if you could convince me to help you two monsters with that, it's… That's so far away from my field of study it's absurd. There's no guides, no…."
"Oh, but what if there is?" she asked. "A study was released a few years ago…" She pulled a book out, dropping it by his feet. "Deciphering Azgat Hieroglyphs, A guide to Nahuatl Writing. By Gordon Whittuskter," she smiled.
He shrugged. "So there's a book, you do it."
"You're the languages expert," she smiled.
"-Ancient species specific languages of Asia Minor," he said, glaring at her. "Me translating Nahuatl script would be like a botanist studying squid."
"So more qualified than an artiste," she smiled, taking a bow. "Besides, you'll be getting the honour of decoding a different language. Ever heard of Zapotec…"
The fox burst out into laughter, shaking his head. "Now that script is long lost. It makes Azgat look like Egyptian in comparison."
"Oh," she purred. "I am so glad you made that comparison. Because what if I told you there was a Rosetta stone."
He stayed silent, but she could see his ears perk up just a little.
"I'm not sure how much you know of the underworld in Zootopia," she said, looking out and studying her claws. "Of the great crime families, united once in their envy and snobbery over the rise and power of Rattigan. Mr Big was the most distasteful, he still thought he owned Little Rodentia, after abandoning it for Tundratown. Even after clawing out our dominion and forcing him to accept our ascendancy, we saw the disgust he laid down upon us. The resentment at us, for our existence. And for him and his self-hating envy we pulled out the rug and let his empire fall, around…"
"-That was me!" Came a shout from behind, Foxy Loxy speaking up. "Those were my achievements! My…"
He was silent as the lion went over and raced into his cell, the fox trying to make a break for it only to have his muzzle clamped and then taped shut. Felicity looked over, face ever more flustered and claws massaging over her chest. "Just do his yapping jaw and sneaky paws," she huffed. "Once I'm done, hold him up against the ceiling, and bring me more tape."
She turned back to Dr Silverfox. "And as I was saying before that little brat needed an attitude adjustment," she smirked. "Big got the most humiliating treatment, his house of cards falling around him and sent to live in a cell like a common caught criminal. But for others… Lang, oh she betrayed all crime stands for by leaving the game. I have plans for her, and her many children will play the starring role. The school talent show to end all school talent shows. And as for the last two crime lords, Rocco Peccarri and Vladztoz Fangpyre…" She smirked. "The closest we came to acceptance was a visit down to Castle Fangpyre. The tour of his prized possessions, artefacts, his heritage…"
She smiled. "I thought we'd bond over that. A mutual understanding of the beauty and holiness of what his great culture once knew more than anyone. Enough of this modern squeamishness, this belief in the sanctity of life… -Well, they understood the true value of the sanctity of life. Of spilling of blood. Of bringing those small and weak and insignificant, and taking them to up to something more special and beautiful than they could ever imagine. Ending it on a high note. Of the artistry, the primal beauty and glory, and just how much more could be done. New species, new methods, new art…"
Dr Silverfox just looked at her.
"He… Does not know how to embrace his own culture, as I found out," she said, shaking her head. "Shame, that his own self hatred led to him viewing that as a faux pas on my part. The fun we could have had. -But, during my tour, I had found something of interest." With a smile she gestured to the lion, who brought out a long scroll of paper. Unwrapping it, Dr Silverfox watched as he saw a picture of a stone unveiled. Pictograms, in three groups, small but detailed.
"Maya, Azgat, Zapotec," Felicity smiled. "The Fangpyres are the last native literates of the original nahuatl script, but it is the latter I would be interested in. Should be easy for you, especially as we believe that many of the codes Rattigan is after will match up with a set found at the Niedelines site."
"That's impossible."
"No," she said. "That's Clockwerk, god of cosmic power and genius, wasted on angst and melodrama." She began bringing out a pile of books and records, pausing as she brought one out and pointed out his name. "Make sure all are translated, and when Rattigan returns he'll have records in Zapotec. Records that translate across. The instructions we need." She smiled. "I'm sure you're bored here most of the time. Pass the time, why don't you?"
He looked at her blankly. "Because I'm not going to. You can subject me to whatever degenerate hell you like, I'm not going to help you or him. Honestly, you can all go to hell. You'll fit right in."
"A shame," she tutted. "And it's not hell. Or disgusting. We're mammals, evolved of flesh and blood, from flesh and blood. Of war, of violence, of the fine line between life and death. One and the other, two sides of one coin. Yet for all we embrace the sparking of it, we've forgotten how to embrace the snuffing of it. Even though the two are one and the same, inseparable, and deep down, we know that. And we can try and forget it. Ignore it." She walked forward, pressing herself against the bars again, one down her chest and soon wrapped around by her legs. "Or we can liberate ourselves and embrace it."
She held on tight. "That's what the truest artists do," she said sliding, down then up. "To so much praise. Don't you see it?" Down then up. "Don't you deny it!" Down then up. "The killer awoke before dawn. He put his boots on." Down then up. "He took a face from the ancient gallery." Down then up. "And then he… He walked on down the hall." Down then up. "He went into the room where his sister lived." Down then up. "And then he paid a visit to his brother." Down then up. "And then he…" Down then up. "He walked on down the hallway." Down then up. "And he came to a door…" Down then up. "And he looked inside." Down then up. "Father?" Down then up. "Yes, son?" Down then up. "I want to kill you." Down then up. Down then up. "Mother," Down then up. "I want to…" Down then up. Down then up. Down then up. "I WANT TO!" Down then she screamed and yowled and cried out loud. Cried out loud. Cried out loud. And carried on and shuddered, slowly sliding down.
Down.
Down.
Down.
"We're the same you know," she panted, chinning the bar. "Both endeavouring to expand the frontiers of what we know, of experience, of discovering the far lost past and building upon it. When we're done, after all, the glory of great Tenochmiztlian shall walk again, and the small and insignificant will climb to the top of new pyramids… They'll catch the blue bus, yeah the blue bus. Their last moment, their most glorious as they take their turn at the paws of the high priestess to appease the vengeful god. Come on foxy… Take a chance with us… Take a chance with us…"
The fox looked at her in disgust, the bloody faced feline gripped to the pole, thrust in and sliding up and down.
And she gave a pouty frown. "I take it you'll not be honoured if your family get chosen to rise up there? For their bodies and minds to be new canvas for new masterpieces."
He scoffed. "You can't pull the threatening my family ploy any more. Let me guess, they're in ZPD witness protection. Away from you, all of you. Safe. And you've played all your cards." He glanced over at the other two captives. "Burnt all your bridges. Killed or lost all your remaining allies. And nobody is going to come to your side anymore."
She withdrew, smiling. "Ah, they never go for the easy option. Nice." She gestured to the big cats around her. "Carry on as planned. -Well," she said, looking at Foxy Loxy, paws and muzzle taped up. "After some fun first."
Dr Silverfox shimmied back so he couldn't see what was coming next. While he had no care for her victim, she didn't want her to have any satisfaction an audience might give her.
"-Oh, Dr Bill?" she asked. He remained silent. "I can always gain new friends and helpers. You can thank your son for that. After all, he's made himself some delightful enemies."
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"If I was writing this, I'd complain about how contrived this was," Jack shrugged, walking on with Skye and Lt Vixen into an aircraft hanger. Already, mammals were assembling, getting together the gear needed for the upcoming operation. A private jet stood waiting, the Sly gang with their van off to the side, Bentley, Sly and Carmelita looking over a set of maps before looking up, eyes focussing on him.
"Well," Skye said, coming in close. "It's not like we don't know where you come from. And I suppose we're lucky that you're not writing it. You know, even though we're doing something we swore we'd never do again… -I'm looking forward to meeting your people."
"-Half people."
Skye's ears flicked back. "Ah, sorry… Is it…"
"No, no," he shrugged, smiling. "I'm happy too. I get to meet my abuela again!"
The swift fox smiled. "Sounds good."
"Well, you'll get plenty of time to get acquainted while we…"
"-No," she said, the hare taking a pause. "You went out alone last time, risking your life… -Not this time. I'm coming along too."
"You don't…"
"I want to," she said, looking at him. He nodded, managing a smile before being called off by Carmelita.
"Señor Savage."
"Inspectora Carmelita, tenemos que dejar de reunirnos así."
He took her paw and kissed it on the top, standing up again and nodding. "How may I be of service."
It was Bentley who got straight to the point. "We believe Rattigan is heading to the chimpalas rainforest, above the isthmus of Tehuantepec, in order to find another working talisman. One that will be in an abandoned bat cave. We need to fly out there, research the local area in order to identify where the site might be, and either find the talisman before Rattigan gets it or apprehend him. Both, preferably, but for now let's focus on the former."
"And you want a zapotec speaker, yes?"
"Exactly," Carmelita said. "To what degree do you know the language?"
He looked around. "Miles ahead of anyone here, beza."
"So we gathered," Bentley agreed. "But are you fluent…"
"Enough to hang out with kits and adults," Jack said. "But doing original research? I know that going around asking about bats might get you directed to some confused skunks, and that any mention of dam activity might point us to our evil owl, but you can hardly expect me to go through ancient petroglyphs. Nobody understands what those mean, and we were at the fringes of what civilisation there was there anyhow."
"That is very much true," Bentley said, nodding. "Which is why it'd be much more likely to be recorded in oral tradition, hopefully transcribed in latin script. Tales, legends, stories told to kits at night to warn them of birds of prey that might snatch them up, things…"
"-Wait a second." The hare looked off in the distance, clicking his fingers. "Would… -What about a story of a city of bats that made a pact with a blood eagle, to make themselves the most feared of all?"
"That could be it," Sly said, leaning forward. "Go on…"
"That's it," Jack said.
"What do you mean that's it?" Murray asked.
"I mean, that's it. No more."
"No more you remember?" Carm asked him.
"No. No more, my abuela told me once those words, pointing up at the jungle hills or something. That was it."
"Well," Lt Vixen said, looking down at him. "I would say it'd be likely that she might know more."
"Or that's all she heard as well," Skye countered.
"Either way," Bentley cut in. "If we don't ask her we won't find out. Besides, we needed a local contact, there's a local contact who will help us. Jack, do you know her favourite things?"
"Uh… Flowers, heirloom seeds, -oooh, these sweets made out of cactus pear. Why?"
"While I'm certain we can rely on the helpfulness of a kind little old lady, this entire mission is too critical to leave to chance. Hence the provision of a massive bribery and charm fund."
Jack nodded. "You're staying there to provide intel support, yes?"
"That is the plan."
The jackrabbit gave a knowing look to Judy, a flash of lapine realisation between them as he turned to Skye. "Get busy reinforcing and fiddle-proofing that wheelchair, he's going to need it."
Before the swift fox or turtle could reply, Murray responded. "Oh don't worry, I'll do my part. I think."
"While you're there you will," Sly smirked.
"-Hang on." All eyes turned to Lt Vixen. "The hippo is coming up into the mountains?"
"Yeah, why not?" he asked.
The army vixen looked over the gang. "This is intense jungle terrain. Dense, thick, and that's before we arrive at the cave itself and go exploring. All that time, Rattigan will be out there too. He could get the jump on us at any time, but he doesn't expect us there so our best bet is to go small and light, preserving our stealth advantage. Logistically speaking, for Murray to assist we'd need to demolish a path through the jungle to get him up there."
"Well hang on just a minute," the hippo said back. "What if you need someone to move a boulder or something? I'm the strongest here, apart from Tigress and maybe Po. It's all well and good talking about you little guys until you need some real muscle."
Lt Vixen just blinked, glancing over and seeing Po and Tigress off in the corner. "They're coming too?"
"Yeah."
"And their qualifications are?"
"Badass kung fu warriors and newest allies of the Cooper gang," the hippo responded.
"-You vet and include your civilian helpers," Carm said, looking up. "I do mine."
"If you insist," the army vixen said. "Regardless, my point still stands. They'll use most of their effort getting themselves up to the site…"
"-Except for the fact large mammals already got themselves up there," Jack said.
"...I thought you said that was all you knew," Bentley said, crossing his arms.
"-Okay, I remembered a different bit, but it was a very different time she said it. Or the teacher said it. -The point is that there were some guano wars up in those hills. You know the basics of those?"
"No," Skye said, Jack turning up to her.
"Okay. For most of history bat guano just piled up in the base of these caves, often leaching out through drain tunnels if they had one. Some more advanced ones made the bats go outside, most didn't. The Spanish came, nothing happened inside. Then mammals began realising what good fertiliser it was and once you had basic trains and stuff you could start moving it. The first caves, near big farm areas or ports, either signed away the rights for free… -Hey, someone offers to take thousands of years of your crap away for free, who are you to ask questions. OR they realised it was valuable and charged rent as it were. Some of these colonies got rich off of it. However, demand grew and as the easy colonies were emptied out, mammals had to go further into the jungle and mountains to find these caves. And the bats all knew this was valuable now, so they thought they could charge what they liked. Many negotiated down and came to agreements, others just fixed it too high. After all, what could mammals do? Come in with a posse and try to shoot them?"
He gave a laugh, arms in the air. "You'd get some who tried that, only to get swarmed, often with poison weapons. So that was how it was, until the posses worked out that special suits and newly invented shotguns worked very well. The wise colonies at this point saw the writing on the wall and gave what they had away for a fraction of its worth or less. Some who'd been proud before and battled were humiliated, and were forced to pay for the sewage extraction as it were. Some provinces even passed sanitation laws, saying that like normal mammals have to pay for sewers, they had to pay taxes to have their guano removed. It wasn't like they could move it themselves."
"And some of these colonies…" Skye began.
Jack nodded. "There were some up in those mountains who refused ANY interference by the outside world. Two hundred or so years ago, a group of prospectors went up there on behalf of the province to negotiate the new sewage law. Free sanitation, as it were. Most bat colonies complied. Again, clearing out generations of crap, in most cases having that taken away for free would be a good thing. But some? They launched an attack on the mammals, killing some. So militia were raised, there was a war. Some surrendered, some fought until they were gone. Entire cultures… Potentially entire species."
The room was quiet.
"-Well, Clockwerk cultists, who needs them right?"
All eyes turned to Sly, the raccoon shrugging.
"What?"
…
"Okay, maybe a bit harsh, but can you blame me?"
"-Wait…" Skye said, turning to Jack. "Once the guano wars were done, they'd have built tramways to get the guano out. Which we, and larger mammals, could use to get up there."
"Exactly," Jack said, turning up to Lt Vixen.
The army fox shrugged. "Makes sense. If not, they could still be useful as guards for our resident hacker here. In any case though, there's plenty more we need in terms of supplies. Food, medicine…"
"-Antivenom," Jack cut in. "I'm not going unless we have fer de lance antivenom."
"Duly noted and agreed," she said. "Shotguns."
"Shotguns?" Carm asked.
"It worked on bats, it'll work on a rat too," she said. "Or have you got sentimental?"
Carm's ears pulled back, a slight tick on her muzzle before she shrugged it off. "-I pride myself on bringing in mammals to face justice. -Even if some monsters can only be put down… I'll talk with Barkley about uprating this to a licence to kill. I don't have to like it, even if I agree with it."
"That's the spirit," the other vixen chimed.
"Also means things get a bit more awkward in case you try and scoot off with the talisman for military experiments," Carmelita said, crossing her arms and tilting her head a little, an eyebrow raised.
"Please," the army vixen scoffed. "You'll get your raccoon boy to pickpocket it and then do your thing."
"Sounds about right," Sly agreed, joining up with the interpol fox. "I mean, it must take a lot of hubris, thinking you can play with Clockwerk and not come out burned, destroyed, ruined. You're nominally on our side, so I suppose that is a positive, but if I have to save some mammals from their own foolishness then so be it."
"You act like we don't know how to kill him again."
"You act like there's any worth in bringing him back. -I mean, from your perspective I suppose you want his weapon technology, that would be useful…"
"-And not explore his body for room temperature super conductors?" she shrugged off. "Use his shielding technology for advanced civilian aircraft? Discover whatever energy source he used to power himself on his long night flights? -We bring him back and dissect him, we might find a working mini fusion reactor in there. Boom, world saved and every petro-dictator in a pile of deep cuss."
"-Yeah, no. Sorry, not worth the risk," Sly cut in, pushing in front of Carmelita and starting down the army fox.
"-SLY!" Bentley shouted. "Carmelita! -And you!" He pointed at Lt Vixen. "Will you three stop with this interdepartmental rivalry stuff. Okay sure, I agree with the whole scientific endeavour and discovery thing. I also agree with the don't cussing touch anything to do with Clockwerk thing. -And based on advances in magnet technology we'll have a fusion device within the decade anyway. -But right now, let's actually stop this stupid squabbling and get out there and stop this!"
He shouted it out, Lt Vixen, Jack and Skye stepping back, even as others came in closer, attracted by the commotion. Nick, Judy, Po, Tigress… Sly made to speak only for Bentley to give him a death glare, slowly pulling off his glasses and putting them on the table. "Because the more we delay, the closer Rattigan gets. The more we delay, the more we play into his hands. And the more we delay, the more the person who finally convinced me I could share the rest of her life with is out there, brainwashed, on the run, broken and needing fixing and forgiving." It was difficult to tell due to his hard shell, but by his breathing the others could tell he was gasping in and out, in and out.
"I'm sorry," Carm said, looking up at Lt Vixen. "We get this done, and…" She shrugged. "Ten second headstart and we see who gets it after."
"Why ten seconds?" the army fox asked.
"Ask him on the plane," she said, gesturing at Sly.
Finally, the raccoon spoke. "Sure, yes. We're flying out tonight, right. Get moving, get packing, what else do we need?"
"I'm waiting on some detection systems to be finished," Lt Vixen said, listing them off. "And some more fake talismans too. General supplies as well."
"Good," Bentley said, going back to his screen before glancing up at Jack. "Anything else you might know? However non-relevant it seems right now."
"No, I…" he paused. "Only… -I've heard there's a lot of gang activity, up in the mountains," he said. "Cartels, even small war lords, that kind of thing, it shouldn't…"
"We can arm up with regular guns too," Lt Vixen said. "Just in case."
"Well, now that you mention it, you better," Bentley continued, tapping away. "I had a report from Thief net that one band of criminals in the jungle, under a figure known as 'The General' had started moving south, towards the area. While it could be just a coincidence, we don't know who Rattigan has contact with. And he has a lot of cash at the moment to hire mercenaries to do what he wants."
"Sounds reasonable," Sly agreed. "Anything else."
"Yes," the turtle replied, gesturing to Carmelita. The vixen slipped a paw into her pocket and brought out a toughened metal box, opening it up to reveal the cracked, coppery glint of Kozlov's broken talisman, nestled within a cradle of soft foam.
The room was quiet as all of them looked over the item, Judy slowly walking forward.
Nick reached out a paw, holding her back.
"No," she said. "Listen, I… If I see it again…"
Clapping the box shut, Carmelita nodded. "Indeed, as far as I know, there's no risk to Judy touching it again, trying to see if she can see more information and… -Yes Po?"
"Uh, yeah," he smiled. "What if it lies?"
…
"Or just gives a misreading of the truth, I think that's what the seeing stone thing did in the Lord of the Rings, make it seem like things were so bad the good guys would lose hope."
"-Yeah," Murray agreed, turning down to Bentley. "And what if it snitches on us to Rattigan?"
"Rattigan doesn't have one anymore," Carm said.
"-I know that, but what if he gets to this bat one first and it warns him we're on our way."
"I…" she began, looking down to Bentley.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "They have valid points. And valid comparisons. For all intents and purposes, you could consider this as the One Ring. It has a mind of its own, it wants to return to its master… -Or see its master return. Point is, it could work and show whatever it thinks serves Clockwerk the best. -Still, we know it's fallible. And everything I said was loaded with a 'could.' But if we keep that in mind, those of us with a connection to it could glean what might be critical information. I say it's worth the risk."
He looked up to Sly, the raccoon looking unsure. Then annoyed. "Okay, no, I disagree. We leave it." A few others started talking among themselves, Sly flicking to them, but his eyes returned to Bentley's, the turtle focussed on him. "Okay, what?"
The room went quiet, all eyes turning to the pair as Bentley wheeled himself around to look the raccoon in the eyes. "Sly. I will forever consider you a brother. I spent much of my childhood mastering skills far more complex and unfathomable than advanced mathematics and quantum physics. Tact, tone, not killing the mood, reading the room and so on. I did so because I wanted to be the best friend and brother I could be. I still do. But my patience is limited, and I think it's time I leave the standoffish passive aggressiveness and heavy subtext to the vixens. I'll be exceedingly blunt Sly. We know you encountered Clockwerk in the past. We know that whatever it was, it hurt you. Scared you. You came back and have refused to talk about the elephant in the room. Well I'm sorry, for our sake, for my sake, for Penelope's sake. We need to know. Now."
Sly stared at him, silent, emotionless. "I found him, I fought him, I beat him. That's it."
"That's it?"
"That's it," Sly said, a snarl growing on his muzzle.
Bentley glanced over at Carmelita, the vixen holding back. "So," he said, "no issue with touching that, seeing what you can see."
He scoffed. "No," he stomped a foot. "I'm not… -I'm not touching that, I'm… -Nothing happened between us in the past, other than a battle, pain, pain I do not want to feel again. You, all of you, you've never been hurt by this monster, you've…"
He was cut off by Bentley loudly clearing his throat, gesturing down at his wheelchair.
"-That's like Po here having a heart attack and falling on me," the raccoon waved off. "It's not the same. It's…"
"-Then why did I see you?" Judy asked.
Sly paused, turning to her. "What?"
Judy closed her eyes and took a breath in. "Seeing Jack's performance for the first time, I was wearing that thing and saw the sarcophagus you came back in. There… There was a figure, it must have been you, throwing me away. I felt rage, betrayal, pain, I…"
"-I remember that," Nick said, looking at Sly. "Listen bud, I know this must be hard…"
"No, you don't know anything," Sly cut in, shaking his head. "Come back when you saw your pleading and begging parents being ripped apart and electrocuted in front of you, powerless, scared, confused, not knowing why they had to die that night. Come back then, Wilde."
"But still…" Judy began.
"-You're probably mistaking me for someone else, or it's lying to you," he waved off. "This is Clockwerk we're talking about." He turned to Carmelita. "Can we really trust any of this stuff…"
"We're trusting it enough to bet everything on it," she sighed, "Sly…"
"-Ah, you too huh, though I do suppose I deserve that one. What about you Murray? Et Tu?"
"Uh…" The hippo began stepping back. "I… I don't like any of this, okay? I get it, Clockwerk, super scary, and…"
"-Yeah, understatement of eternity, " Sly cut off, turning back down to Bentley. "I'm not going to rub Penelope in your face, so don't rub Clockwerk in mine, okay?"
The turtle remained quiet, eyes not making contact. Carmelita came in, as if to comfort, only to get the cold shoulder. Sly just huffed, starting to make his way out…
"-Wait."
He turned to see Judy walking to Carmelita. "Let me try first." She gestured at the box and opened it, paw reaching out to touch the talisman.
A second passed.
Then a few more.
She pulled it back, shaking her head. "No, nothing."
The room was quiet. "Can I have a go?" Po asked, leaning down and touching it. Eyes closed… "Come on, come on, I know he was a bad guy once but some Panda King awesomeness, please?" He pulled away. "Nothing…"
"Is it dead?" Tigress asked.
Carm just shrugged.
"What if we try to annoy it?" Po asked. "Hey, bird brain, you uh…. Uh…"
"Lost," Sly said, marching over and staring it down. "You lost, everything you built is gone, everything that is left of you will be found and destroyed. Every day that remains, every night, I'll be there making sure that what I started, I'll complete. You hear that?" he asked, finger coming down and jabbing it with a claw. "That's!" He jabbed it again. "A!" Again. "Promise!" One last time, pushing down hard for good measure, and then he screamed.
He shot back as if hit by lightning, clipping the table with a bang and sending it tipping over, even as he flailed back, splitting the air with his howl. Tigress snapped up and grabbed him in a paw, spinning around to absorb the shock only to let go as he kicked and screamed, dropping to the floor hard on his tail, paws clutching his head and tearing at it. All as he screamed, screamed out and out and out, shaking backwards and forwards as Carmelita and Murray raced over to hold him. Raced over to try and get a grip as he retreated into a foetal position, tipping over and almost collapsing to the ground were it not for the others holding him. Even then, his legs kicked out frantically, his body shook and trembled, his head tipped back and forward, back and forward, his ripped out voice growing hoarse from lack of air or burning out his vocal cords, they couldn't tell.
His eyes started dead ahead, fixed on the floor, wide, red, moistening.
His mouth hung half open, teeth bared.
He slowly went silent amidst the calls and reassurances, still shaking, still trembling, even as Po brought over a chair and they helped him up.
Not that he lay into it, limbs stiff.
Seconds passed.
Then minutes.
A second round of screaming started up again, quickly dampened.
In the end, he finally spoke.
"Stupid…" He grit his teeth, eyes welding shut. "Stupid idea, who's idea was it…"
"I'm sorry," Judy began, only for him to thrash out.
"Well thank you," he tried to snarl, his voice shot. "I really needed to see that…" He got up onto his shaking feet, paws rubbing frantically against each other. He was a mess, fur on his head ripped out. "I…" He coughed. "I really…" Tears began to track down from his eyes, the raccoon shaking his head. "Excuse me," he spoke, starting to make his way over. Murray followed.
"Don't worry Sly, I…"
"-Get lost!"
"Sly?" he began, moving faster, only for Sly to dart to the side, grab a chain and race up it, fast.
The hippo was just left there, standing at the bottom, watching him alongside the others as the racoon raced across the rafters and then out an open roof light.
.
.
"God," Judy began, burying her face only for Carmelita to step over.
"Don't worry, it…"
"-It was my fault for pushing it," Bentley said. "We needed to know what happened but, it's clear Sly doesn't want to…" He sighed. "He can't go on the mission, not in that state."
Tigress looked over. "Are you sure?"
"Murray and I remember his screaming night terrors, back in the years after his first encounter with Clockwerk," the turtle said, shaking his head. "Even if he's committed to the mission, that's too much of a risk. He stays here. I'll stay with him too, he needs a friend, and I can replicate my usefulness for the mission with a satellite phone."
"I… -Are you sure?" Murray asked. "I can stay too, I…"
"The mission needs strong mammals," Carmelita said. "You come with us. We can stay in contact through Bentley. -Po should stay too."
"Huh?" he asked.
"We can't rule out an attack on those of us left behind," she said, her features softening. "Besides, I have a feeling you're good with mammals in distress. And your wife is still dealing with the loss of her father."
Po thought for a second, before nodding. "Right."
Carm nodded, turning to Bentley. "We can still make a play up here, just like your army mammals can at the Darien Gap and the Panama canal if we're wrong," she said, looking at Lt Vixen. "Either way, as much as I hate this, waiting for Sly to recover is a luxury we don't have. We have one advantage against Rattigan, we can not squander it. Vamoss!"
.
.
.
.
The room was silent as the bear sat and waited.
The giant otter next to him, still tiny and harmless in any real sense sat behind him. He'd offered a paw, words of comfort. The bear had half expected him to give one of his long meaningless rants about how 'the business' wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
He might as well have been talking about good fur care regimes for white furred mammals for all it meant.
Still, he was glad that things had subsided down into a long silence.
With a jolt, the door in front of them opened, a few mammals walking in. An argali sheep chief amongst them.
"Timofey," he said, placing down a box. The bear paused as he saw the item placed on the top, a band with a heavy unit placed on one section. "-Goes around the ankle," the warden continued. "You'll be expected to stay at the two event sites and then your mothers house. If you want to go anywhere else, phone in…" He passed along a scrap of paper. "-If it's not too unreasonable, it should be cleared. We'll be picking you back up midday monday. And I'm sorry."
"Thank you," the bear huffed, reaching down and moving the ankle tag out of the way. A cheap set of formal clothes, black and dour. He stretched his arms up and over his neck, claws working at the zip and starting to undo the baggy prison suit.
A hoof on his arm froze him in place. "You don't have long left here," the argali warned. "The worst thing you can do for your mother now is make it so that's no longer the case. Understand?"
"Da," he said, plainly. Inoffensively. As you always did to those in the cop business. The prison guards left him to have some privacy and he got himself changed, eventually tying the strap around his ankle.
And with that he was guided out, out through the front doors and to a waiting bus, stepping on and settling back. A few seconds passed and they were off, moving down through the forests and hills, slowly making their way back towards the city.
At first he kept his eyes down, not really caring for the same kind of scenery he'd spent the last few years stuck with. But as they slowly began to return home, he couldn't help but let his eyes look up.
Watching.
Waiting.
To see any sign of what had happened.
He knew something had, he'd heard it whispered, spoken about. He supposed that the prison officers were counting their blessings that they'd all been in lessons when the transmission had gone out. -After all, school holidays were one of the many rights reserved for law abiding cubs. There'd been some rumours, in one class one kid had come back in yelling about something, only for the teacher to shut him right down.
And then they were told it was back to their cells, and they were locked up for the next few days.
The television system cut off.
He was certain they were all counting their blessings, that it hadn't been a hot weekend day, maybe a rainstorm outside and everyone huddling in the cellblock. Eyes glued to the screen.
Their charges united in righteous fury.
They could have overwhelmed them. Broken down the fence. Gotten out.
But that was never part of the plan, was it?
Not even at the main jails, so he'd heard.
Not one mention of mutiny or anything in the news reports since, just the pain of clearing up, and their lashings out at those who had gotten the better of them.
His eyes kept watch as they moved through a tunnel, emerging into the white lights of Tundratown. The snow all around glistened, on the turn as the sunlight grew. There didn't seem to be any sign of the masses of tents that had been used for those who went to the city centre and never came back.
Finally they pulled up, a small rocky shore outstretched in front of them. The driver gave a few words, the bear walked out. Into the courtyard, other bears waiting there, standing around. They looked at him, looks of sympathy, paws offered or words said.
He nodded, waved, shrugged…
And froze as he saw her. Old, tired, dressed in black, eyes moistening. He walked to her and she raced to him, gripping him tight and rocking him. He'd let her have it. He firmed up his wobbling lip as his mother fussed over him. He'd let her have this one.
They didn't share many words after that, now wasn't the time. Instead they walked up and, after a tap on the shoulder and a few words, the young bear walked away. Joining in with three others, they walked to a waiting hearse and undid the curtains.
He saw his father there. Dressed up in the suit he'd wear when going off to discuss business, all cleaned up. Yet the fur on one of his paws and that side of his face were torn up and ripped, traces of blood still visible despite the efforts to clean it. Bandages peaked out from around the clothes, many more were likely present underneath.
To hide what had happened.
The young bear looked on, confused. He knew his father had died fighting during the great mission, but he thought that was a cop or gun wielding local. This…?
He didn't know, but it wasn't time to find out.
Instead he helped guide the gurney he was resting on out, eyes flicking to and away and to again his fathers closed ones. The way his face looked… Pained? Angry? Surprised.
Like this wasn't how he was supposed to go?
Like someone had pulled a dirty trick on him, rather than give him the honourable death a bear like him deserved?
The thoughts wormed around in his brain as he knelt down and helped shoulder the burden, walking his father over to the waiting pit that had been dug, piles of stones lying around. His mother sobbed as his father was placed down in his shallow grave, the bear walking back and joining her.
Words of comfort were spoken, of pride. Of how Osip Krovstoit was a proud bear of honour, a made mammal, someone who'd been loyal to the end. Words were spoken, signs of the cross made.
And slowly the faithful leant in and began piling the stones up and around him. Never on him. Instead cantilevering them over, his figure slowly starting to recede. One stone after the other, Timofey got a look at his father then turned away. At him, away from him. At him, away.
Until he brought one last stone up and held it in his paws, trying to work out where it should go. The tomb was almost complete and only a small image of the bear could be seen, all of a sudden questions rising in the young bear. Not just about what had happened, but about everything. Anything. Favourite song, favourite colour, what he'd been up to his age, how he and his mother had met, had there been anyone else, what was his proudest achievement back in the family, was he proud of…
A stone was laid over his face, the bear left lingering there until a slight cough caught him unawares. Looking up he could see the others looking at him, waiting. He looked down and placed his stone down, the last stone, capping it all off.
They stepped back, looking on at the cairn that rose over his father.
One of so many all around, big and small, nestled in this stretch of TundraTown just like they were scattered like stars across the true high north.
And with that they left, his mother guiding him along into the car.
She driving.
Him by the side.
Alone, in peace, for the first time.
"How did it happen?" he asked.
She glanced at him. "I thought you knew." He shook his head. "He was fighting on the night of the big take. Rattigan's project chaos. He died."
"I know," he said. "How did he die?"
She looked at him blankly for a second before her face firmed up. "Like the strong bear he was, battling…"
"Something ripped him up, like a shotgun or…"
"-Maybe he was hit by a shotgun," she sighed, looking down. "The filth at the ZPD won't tell us of course. I can't blame them though. They know Rattigan and our might would bring justice to those who did it?"
"So the rat does not know either…"
"I don't know."
"So he hasn't told us anything?"
"Not yet…"
"Where is he then?" Timofey asked. "This great new boss? Where…"
"It takes a lot of effort to be the big boss," she scolded. "You saw what they managed that night, it takes a lot more effort to manage this. I had to juggle my loved ones funeral, and getting the insurance sorted on the shop!"
The young bear blinked. "What do you mean, insurance on the shop?"
"It burned down…"
"-What, the plan burned down the…"
"Timofey!" She barked, causing him to freeze, if still simmering with anger.
"I… I lost my freedom defending that shop. Teaching mammals not to mess with us. And if it is just… -Not just father, but the shop as well, leaving the mammals who did this…"
"Our mammals burnt down the shop."
He froze, face slapped with disbelief as his mother leant over and put a comforting paw on his arm. "With no enforcers needing to offload money on overpriced art, everything was nearly worthless," she said, smirking. "Or rather, worth far more for the insurance than as was. So, new boss Rattigan allowed us to capitalise on this."
"You let the shop burn?"
"Ha, I hide anything of value, then help them as they light it up!"
Timofey stared at her. "So you let me go to jail for what… Nothing!?"
She gave him a sympathetic look. "What you did was right thing for that time, what we did was…"
"So where is this Rattigan?"
"Busy," she said. "Besides, we don't question big boss, he…"
"-Has best interests in heart?" the bear asked. "Da. Like Bigs, like little Fru Fru who left us out to dry like fish thrown out of water. Like Kozlov…"
"-DON'T mention that name," she hissed, making him jump back. She glared at him before turning down and spitting on the floor. "He real traitor, he just have to give up one thing but no. And my dear Osip have to chase him so hard, he end up dying to do it…"
"Kozlov killed papa?"
…
"No," she sighed.
"Then…"
"Friend of Kozlov, I don't…" She turned to him. "Papa fought in war, died in war. But war is won. We are good for next few decades."
"Then what?"
"I have enough…"
"What about me?" he asked. "If there is no business left, if Rattigan just takes all he has and runs…"
"He will not, he will build back greater than Big ever was…"
"Did he say this?" Timofery asked. "Are there plans?"
"-I have faith in him like he has faith in us," she said.
"...Then where was he? He could have cracked open the jails, but there was nothing. The business is gone, there will be nothing. I will have NOTHING!"
"...You're getting out so soon," she said. "It wasn't worth…"
"And when I do get out?"
"You go into the business."
"There is no business, not anymore."
She looked at him before huffing. "Fine, you get to play video games all day. Or you get ordinary job, like ordinary mammal."
…
The bear just looked at her. Ordinary mammal? Ordinary job? Like… What even…
They were cut off as a sudden flash of blue broke through the back screen, the whoop of a police cruiser screaming out behind them. Flicking her turn signal, his mother wrenched the car to the side, sliding to a sudden hard stop.
The police cruiser halted behind them, a few large mammals walking out. She looked over to see a horse officer lean down, tapping the side of the window with a hoof.
"-Very classy of you, pulling me over on the day of my husband's funeral," she hissed, pulling the window down. "And if it is my son's ankle tracker, then maybe you should make them better."
"Ma'am," the horse said, flashing his badge. The words Detective Oates were printed on. "I will say, you are right there. It is to do with your son's ankle tracker."
Out of the corner of his eye, Timofey saw a mouse standing on the horse's shoulder, pressing a button. And then a speaker began playing out, the sound tinny, unclear, but unmistakable.
"You let the shop burn?"
"Ha, I hide anything of value, then help them as they light it up!"
"Now," the horse began. "Given your current circumstances I am feeling very gen…" He was cut off his mother roared, slamming the car door out and into him before leaping out, jaws out wide and reaching for the jugular. The horse let out a panicked whiny, leaping back, hoof slamming into her nose to push it away only for a claw to come sweeping down.
A prick and an electric buzz cut through the air, his mother screaming as she was shocked down, the horse pulling himself out and away as a set of tranq rounds hit her.
She collapsed to the floor, wavering, the horse and two other officers racing up to grab and cuff her. "Melissa Krovstoit, you are under arrest for conspiracy, insurance fraud, arson, assault of an officer and resisting arrest, you…"
Timofey just looked on blankly as the scene played out in front of him, his mother mammalhandled up, her widows dress and such torn, the damn horse making some stupid aside comment about how she could have just told her everything she knew about that damn rat and she could have carried on to the wake…
Finally daming himself for letting them do that to his family, his own mother, not stepping in when she needed it he reached down to undo his belt and made for the door, only to find a different officer bracing it shut. He roared, turning back, only to find the same done on the other side.
"Sir," one of them said. "If you co-operate we'll return you to custody, even write a recommendation for…"
On they trailed, the bear just simmering with anger.
Wanting to punch them out.
Only not doing so as he knew not to give them anything more.
Eventually, paws up, he was led out and into the back of a different cruiser. They didn't cuff him. Instead, they took him back the way he came.
He'd now lost his mother.
These filthy, evil little dishonourable mammals had used him against her.
He wanted to take the tracker and its inbuilt microphone or whatever off his ankle and use it to choke the life out of them. Out of Rattigan. Out of whoever killed his father. Out of that damn horse, staring him in the eyes all the time. Out of Big and Fru Fru and out of Kozlov himself.
The prison mammals gave him space as he dressed back into his uniform, as if they knew that a single movement could cause him to blow.
Back in the cell block, he marched back and in, moving out into the yard to try and work off some of the rage. They didn't provide any boxing equipment or anything, so he grabbed a basketball and hurled it at the wall. It bounced back and he caught it, hurling it again, and again, trying to hit it so hard it would burst against the wall.
In the end, he got bored.
Only a fraction of his anger released.
And so he paced.
Again, others knew not to come close.
His stared this way, that… Only freezing as he looked across the chain fence and into the yard of another block, a woodchuck sulking there before scurrying off at the sight of his glare, as if he were about to charge through the fences and rip him from limb to limb.
-Honestly, that might not be so bad. He and many others had figured that that pathetic wretch of a mammal was the one who'd stitched up the fox they'd had for a week or so, the Anonymous Vulpine as most mammals had known him.
The bear spat.
That had been a mess.
Here he was, the mammal who led the damn cellblock, and the biggest thing to ever happen to it? He'd gone and just missed the big grand ending.
He wasn't even there during the last bit, when some others, the worst, had been guided into doing some disgusting filth. To try and make sure that however short his stay had been, prison would change him.
Typical.
He'd grown up to be a mammal in the business. The business was gone. He'd gone to prison for defending his family, its shop, its honour. Burnt down regardless. Tried to manage everything, didn't matter.
Maybe that was why he hadn't really worked that hard on dealing with the filth that were left in his block. That hare and that wolf had had some enforced extra, extra long freezing showers, not like they didn't need them. But after they'd started earning extra years on their sentence…
He just sat there, looking out.
It really was stupid and meaningless. Here he was, stuck in the deep place. A drowned out audience member to his own life.
The thought lingered over him like a miasma.
He barely paid attention to anything else.
Barely ate anything at dinner.
Barely cared as he moved back into his cell and lay down.
…
…
"What the…"
He stood up, looking around. Some… noise… Was coming in. Was it a scratching, or…" He walked over to the cell window. Tough, metal framed, with a perforated metal grill in the section that could be opened up as it was now, to try and let some cool air in.
Looking down he froze. A tiny hole had been cut through, too small for him to even fit a finger through, but big enough for whatever that was to be threaded in. And it was making a slight pinging noise.
He reached in and pulled it through, examining it. A tiny earbud, a long stretch of wire, a small microphone, what must have been some batteries. Looking around, he stashed it away before retreating to his bed, sticking the earpiece in and holding the microphone close to his mouth. "Hello?"
…
"If this is the cops, you cannot get me for this, this is…"
"-Entrapment," came a new voice. Female. "And you're right to be suspicious, what they did at that funeral was evil. It only makes me want to liberate everyone they captured, past and present, even more."
"I… Who are you?"
"Felicity. Felicity Pawker, the great lady behind Rattigan, and the one in charge of biting the ZPD's baculum off while their pants are down."
"You're… You plan to get me out? My mother…"
"And many more," she said. "Just like before, give them so much they can't come close to handling it. And in your case, I believe there's some mammals whose escape will scare them far more than you ever could. If they manage to be free, good on them. If not, it still gives you a bigger chance."
"Right, right," he said, nodding. His heart was beating fast, he leant in closer.
"We still need to get the planning done, find out where they're weakest," she said, tapping something out on a keyboard. "I… I believe the Anonymous Vulpine was held at your facility, right?"
"...Da."
"Good. I heard he didn't have a fun time here. Can you tell me more?"