Chapter Text
~ ~ ~ Cairo, Egypt - 2004, March 20th, 5:21 AM ~ ~ ~
The Museum of Natural History was one of the largest tourist destinations in all of Egypt, second only to the Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx. It was a high-profile location, containing many priceless artifacts of the ancient world holding secrets that archaeologists had yet to uncover. Unfortunately, its most recent troupe of visitors weren’t here for sightseeing. Contained within were the remains of the one and only Clockwerk, a cybernetic monstrosity that traded its soul for immortality for the sole purpose of wiping his rivals out of existence. After his defeat, there was worldwide debate over who would claim his body, and in the end, Egypt’s claim won out. Funny how things work out to end where they start.
Sly Cooper looked out from his position above the Museum lobby’s skylight, glaring across Cairo to the pyramids casting a silhouette on the twilight horizon. Adjusting the grip on the cane passed down to him, a trademark tool from his ancestors, his thoughts pondering on where the strife all began. A pang of sorrow mixed with determination stirred in his heart, “I don’t how this feud started Slytunkhamen, but I’m going to do what no Cooper could do; stopping Clockwerk so it won’t have the chance to do anymore damage to the world.”
Whether Egypt’s claim was right or wrong didn’t matter to Sly, as the Cooper clan had far too many grievances to let anyone else take the parts for themselves. No, by the end of the day he would be the one taking the parts and putting an end to a generation’s long rivalry. Putting an end to a nightmare. Soon the twilight hour of the day covering their incursion would end, a new day would begin, and Sly would be relived of this dark chapter of his life, of his bloodline.
Of his curse.
After months of planning and weeks of preparation, everything was falling into place. The gang was taking their positions for one of the most pivotal heists of their lives, Murray was excited to finally flex his hard-earned muscle, and Bentley was anxious but eager to put his hacking and B ’n’ E skills to the test. As for Sly, he was in his element, keeping a cool confidence as he waited on the rooftop towards his entry, with the cool and sandy desert morning air whispering past his ears. Currently, he was waiting for Bentley to remotely crack the electronic lock keeping the skylight closed. The security here was tight, and everyone needed to satisfy their role perfectly to pull off this heist. He tapped his cane impatiently, “are they really ready for this? If this goes south than it’s a huge setback, and who knows when we’ll get-.”
Interrupting his thoughts, the electronic lock latch released with a soft click to signal his cue. With Bentley done performing his magic, He was in. Opening the skylight, he began fetching rope from his leg pouch and fed it down towards the museum floor. Light as a feather, he glided his way down, landing on the floor without sound nor effort. After a few paces, his binocucom let out a weak vibration, enough to be felt but not heard. Bentley was about to give him the sit-rep, reaching into his pouch Sly debated if he wanted to pull his friend’s leg a little bit to lighten the mood.
“Ah, what the heck?”
The unmistakable voice of a nasally and nervous turtle came over the connection, “Breaker Alpha Foxtrot this is the Wizard, do you read me Sitting Duck?” Sly made a smirk, he really did need to lighten the mood. So, he started using his signature silky smooth charm.
“This is Peaking Duck…”
~ ~ ~ 5:28 AM ~ ~ ~
If anyone in the world could fit the definition of a good cop, it was Inspector Carmelita Fox hands down. She had all the qualities that made her loyal and competent, being both principled and attentive, and having the grit to match. A true public servant, prepared to pursue justice at a moment’s notice. But there were some days that really put that to the test, and this day was doing that in a rather unusual - and obnoxious - manner.
She was fidgeting in the squad car on route to the museum, trying to keep her composure so as to not show her discontent around her newfound cohorts. Reassignment to the Klaww gang case on such a short notice was frustrating enough, especially when she was close on cooper’s heels here in Egypt. They got a call that there was a break in into the museum just hours ago, and contrary to her insistence of Coopers involvement, her concerns were dismissed. Chief Barkley explained that the brass at Interpol HQ wanted “utmost urgency” in resolving the Klaww gang case, and that everything else was being put on the back burner.
Typical Bureaucrats.
So far in the Inspector’s career she was not confident in trusting her fellow agents with her life, and always preferred to go solo. Letting out a gradual breath, she began reasoning with herself. “I suppose learning to be team player would help me perform my duties in the long run, so I can’t be too upset about it.” She breathed again, centering her thoughts on the situation at hand, looking away from the squad car’s passenger window and taking stock of the crew she was forced to work with. Including her it was a four-person team, small and mobile enough to be dispatched at a moment’s notice, but still a formidable force when paired with local law enforcement.
In the back of the squad car with her was Constable Neyla, a young tigress that had everything to prove and took all her chances. Fox already knew she would be a problem. Up front was their captain and tech support, McCoy; an old and weather worn coyote that had seen more than his fair share of action, and Lyra; a rather peculiar polymath of a crow that was keen on keeping to herself. Fox was unsure about them, amicable enough as they seemed.
A retort from the tigress drew Fox from her thoughts. “Why so mopey Ironsides? I thought you would appreciate the change of pace from hopelessly chasing some low life thief.” A thin conceited smile was resting on her lips, betraying her feigned concern. She was already making challenges for the Inspector, but Fox wouldn’t sink to her level.
Fox kept her arms crossed and firmly reprimanded the constable, “I told you to stop calling me that.” If the constable was questioning her authority, then Fox would go by the book and respond in kind, fighting the enticement to tear her down.
But the temptation was still there.
Having to put up with the antics of a wet behind the ears constable paired with a strict and seasoned captain proved to be rather grating. In spite of her rank the haughtiness emanating from the constable was enough to make Cooper seem tame and led to plenty of squabbling within the squad. The only thing saving her from severe tongue-lashing vengeance from the inspector was the captain’s interference.
Without looking away from the road, McCoy decided to break into the conversation, “I think you should take that as a compliment inspector, resilience is a valued trait for our line of business.” Such warm praise coming freely from a superior was unusual for the fox, putting her slightly off balance. He was not as kind to the tigress however, giving her a tactful lecture. “And you constable, should learn to respect your superiors. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck with the mundane cases nobody wants.” Well, less of a lecture and more of a warning.
The captain’s patience waned, deciding to whip the team back into shape, “Look, we’ve been through the briefing folks, the director of the museum wants to keep things quiet so they can buy time to make a public statement, they’re unsure if they want keep the other wings of the museum open today while we conduct forensics.” Fox bristled at that; she wasn’t one to rush an investigation.
Switching into investigation mode, she went straight to the point, “We’re on the clock then?”
It was then that the reclusive crow spoke up in a strange accent, albeit softly, “Officially, we are allotted as much time here as deemed necessary. Practically speaking however, the more efficient we are with our forensics the sooner we can find our suspects and get out of the museum’s hair.” Fox did not expect the crow being so matter of fact but was nonetheless satisfied by the professionalism.
With a lurch, the squad car rolled to a stop by the museum’s employee entrance. It was eerily quiet for an active crime scene; Fox had seen nothing like it before. While there was no crime tape yet, police and museum staff alike were present, some were smoking cigarettes or drinking coffee, but all had a grave air about them. Looking over she saw EMT pushing a covered stretcher into an ambulance. Carmelita began silently roiling with outrage, “Bastards, they’ll rot for what they’ve done here.”
Noticing the scene that put everyone on edge they inspected their equipment, Fox and McCoy procedurally inspected the charges on their respective shock pistol and pulse rifle and holstered them with practiced haste. Neyla simply ensured that the whip on her hip was untangled and secure, aloof to any concern. Lyra secured her laptop in a satchel bag around her shoulder and fidgeted with her standard issue radio transceiver. Satisfied, they left the vehicle and began moving towards their destination.
In their approach Fox noticed that two of the staff were off to the side, a jackal was seemingly consoling the other; a pig sitting on a chair looking silently at the ground. Upon approaching them with the squad their conversation gradually entered earshot, “Nobody expected this to happen, there was no way for you to save them. It’s not your fault.” The other just despondently shook his head, keeping an unfocused gaze at the cement by his feet. She became alert to the red stains on the pig’s clothing, blood, but not his. There were casualties, Fox was aware of this, but now she began realizing how severe this situation actually was.
Noticing the team’s approach, the jackal turned to greet them, putting on an uneasy smile that was not convincing in the slightest. She held out her hand. The Coyote leading the squad reached out to shake the hand of the jackal, as if he recited this many times before, “I’m Captain McCoy from Interpol, we’re here about the break-in. I presume you are the museum director, Miss…?” The Jackal’s posture softened slightly, and her face eased just as so.
Responding in a tense English accent, “Dr. Eliza Rouche, please. I’m so glad you all are here; it’s been a rather distressing few hours and I hope that your presence here will at least bring some security and comfort to our staff in spite of everything that has happened.” She took another quick glance down at the pig next to her, compassion began glistening in her eyes.
The inspector intervened by placing her hand tenderly on the director’s shoulder, who was quickly wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry for what you all had to go through. I will ensure that the men that did this will face justice.” Carmelita never made promises she couldn’t keep; this was no exception. It was her vocation after all.
The director’s face brightened at the assurance, if just for a moment, and then began proceeding with formalities. “Thank you, and you are?” a more genuine smile creeped onto her face. Fox returned it in kind, “Inspector Carmelita Fox at your service mam, if I may, can you take us to your chief of security?”
At the mention of that name the director lit up in excitement. “You’re Inspector Fox!? The woman who took down the Fiendish Five and singlehandedly took down Clockwerk? We have them all in our exhibit! I’m so honored to have you here!” Fox was unsure whether to be flattered or annoyed by the director’s excitement but gave the jackal a discerning glare all the same.
Realizing all the attention she had just drawn to herself from museum staff and Interpol alike, she sheepishly reclaimed her composure after vigorously shaking her hero’s hand. “I apologize, our security chief is right here in fact; Jamal’s still a bit shaken up from the break in, he saw everything through the cameras.” She gestured towards the pig that was siting there, who now was looking up towards the team with tired eyes.
A hoarse voice mumbled out from the Jamal, “I can take you to the security room and you can get the footage, just don’t ask me to replay it for you. I’m not watching it again.” Without further clarification, he sat up and began guiding the team inside the museum.
Fox hesitated for a moment, wondering about what awaited them inside, then followed behind the rest of the team. “What did he see that would screw him up this badly? Was it really that bad?” struck by morbid curiosity, she then followed behind the rest of the team.
“Only one way to find out.”
~ ~ ~ 5:37 AM ~ ~ ~
Sly was feeling more and more confident by the minute. So far, everything was going smoothly, and his gang was following through with the plan perfectly. Currently, he was watching over Bentley’s shoulder at the security computer’s console trying to gauge his progress. Not that he could understand any of it, “Something about ASKEY? I should really pay more attention to this tech stuff.” Observing more closely he noticed that Bentley’s hands trembled slightly throughout his keystrokes, sometimes periodically missing a stroke, and having to use backspace. Before he could remark about this however, the security gate adjacent to them slowly creaked open.
Putting on a wavering mask of calmness, the turtle exclaimed, “Presto, all clear…” and then proceeded to keep taping away on the security console.
Sly saw through it though, deciding to encourage Bentley. “Thanks pal, for your first time out you’re doing pretty well!” Unfortunately, this did little to assuage Bentley’s anxiety, as he we too focused on the remainder of the heist to pick up on the praise.
He looked up at Sly for a brief moment with a thin smile on his beak, “Oh, this operation is far from complete, I’ll stay here a provide computer support while you rendezvous with Murray.” From that tense response, Sly was feeling the need to be more persistent with his friend.
Deciding to offer some advice before moving ahead “Just remember, haste makes waste, and gets you wasted. Stop worrying pal, it’ll all work out fine.” Lingering for a moment, he waited for a response, with Bentley giving Sly a quick thumbs up before proceeding with his task.
Content with the reply, he began gliding his way through the empty halls keeping an eye out for any other security measures. As he was dodging some guards as he made his way towards the garden balcony, an ominous sensation began to take over Sly; there were a lot more guards in the museum than anticipated, was something going on? He decided to brush off the feeling, owing it up to the fact that there was a disturbing number of portraits and keepsakes of the fiendish five scattered around the museum.
Disgust creeped onto his face, “Sheesh, is this a museum or a fan club?”
Sly stopped for a moment, taking a moment to watch out for the guards around the corner, and noticed the portrait of a certain oily amphibian on the wall next to him. “Why anyone would want to look at Sir Raleigh’s vile visage, painting or not, is beyond me…” A crooked, slimy grin gleaned back at him from the canvas, a smug glare looking down at him.
Mocking him.
A fierce crackling came from the museum’s intercom system, jarring Sly out of his thoughts. After a moment the ever-present voice of Bentley blared through, feigning an authoritative tone, “Uh… attention all guards this is the… network administrator, we’re installing some new software into the security mainframe… Don’t be alarmed if some systems get turned off for a while. Um… thank you.” and another bout of violent crackling came to signal the end of the “network administrator’s” announcement.
Sly was shaking his head in amusement as he progressed to the balcony. Upon arrival, and noticing all of the guards in the garden, he took out his binocucom.
In deadpan quip, “That was real subtle Bentley.”
~ ~ ~ 5:44 AM ~ ~ ~
For a moment the team froze inside of the security room, Lyra had just started reviewing the security footage when the intercom came on so unexpectedly. Everyone in the room knew that the message was a farce, as they were already in the only room that had such network access. Everyone exchanged glances as they were so confused and stunned at such an obvious ploy.
Constable Neyla was the first to break the ice, “I don’t think that’s our security chief…” This seemed to break everyone out of their spell as they scrambled to regain control of the situation.
The captain began reining in the police squads stationed outside, howling orders through his radio, “This is McCoy, we’ve got an intruder that’s compromised the security system, secure the perimeter, and stay on high alert! We’re about to do a sweep.” To his credit, he wasn’t about to play around with the possibility of another break-in and was ready to bring the hammer down with full force.
Inspector Fox already figured out what was happening however, and leapt in to intervene, “It’s the Cooper gang Captain, I told you they would be here!” This seemed to jerk the captain from administering more orders through his radio and focused his full attention onto the Inspector.
A snicker emanated from the Tigress who couldn’t help but laugh, “So that’s what the infamous Sly Cooper sounds like?” Typical, of course she wouldn’t take this situation seriously, and Fox opened her mouth in retort.
Agitated at the apparent insubordination the Coyote howled, “You two, knock it off! Lyra, any idea where this clown’s tapped in?” A look at the crow rapidly typing on her laptop showed that she was already working on it, but she quickly shook her head in negation, not daring to take her eyes off the screen.
Fox kept pressing the issue, she wasn’t keen on letting her quarry get away from her once again, “Forget that; they’re after the Clockwerk exhibit! We can catch them in there!” McCoy whipped his head around to face her, he narrowed his eyes at her, whether he was sizing her up or thinking over her words she couldn’t tell.
Acquiescing to her advice, McCoy firmly pointed her finger at her in warning, “I’m trusting you on this one.” The Fox steeled herself, it appeared that she’d have to prove herself to her superiors once again. She did many times with Chief Barkley; McCoy wouldn’t be any different.
Unslinging and cocking his pulse rifle, he gave out one last order before disappearing through the security room door, “Neyla, assist Fox. Lyra, keep us posted. I’ll help secure the exits.” Not needing to be told twice, she broke into a sprint towards the Clockwerk exhibit, with no concern if the constable kept up with her or not. Jamal had quickly familiarized the team with the meusum’s layout, so finding her way around wasn’t too difficult.
During her transit to the exhibit, she saw guards and police alike rushing around to secure the museum in response to the captain’s orders, although careful not to disturb any of the evidence of the previous break-in. Cursing mentally, “Damn you Cooper, couldn’t you have broken in any other time, you’re interfering with evidence collection!” Remembering she was still on the clock to find the perp’s who broke in on the Klaww gang’s behalf.
Sly always excelled at making her life difficult.
Reaching the door to the exhibit she looked behind her to see that the constable was able to keep up. Raising her hand, she signaled Neyla to stack up on the door and prepare to breach the room. Without as much as a word, she took her position on the opposite side of the door frame and watched the inspector with a neutral expression. So far, they heard nothing on the other side. They counted down. Shock pistol in hand, Fox kicked the door open.
The room was large and poorly lit and contained little cover. Rafters lined the roof of the room. A probable hiding place. They began circling the room, alert. It was still quiet.
Feeling a faint draft, she looked to the source. There was a large window across the room. She saw broken glass signifying an entry point. He was here. She looked in the rafters again, nothing. Neyla was still on the far side of the room.
A faint sound: footsteps. From the dark side of the room. Behind one of the few crates in the room. A pair of glowing eyes. She’d recognize them anywhere.
Rasing her shock pistol she fired. It went wayside and hit the crate. A Booming blossom of wooden splinters. A figure leapt and flipped from where the crate used to be. “FREEZE!” Everyone in the room converged under the sole hanging light present.
Standing in front of them was Sly Cooper. “Inspector Fox, as lovely and unpredictable as ever!” He was taunting them, just out of reach at the edge of the light. “Whereas you crooks are so predictable, if anybody had the motive to take the Clockwerk parts it would be you.” He shot back a charmer’s smile.
Neyla Lost her focus. The urge to correct was too strong. “Except the Klaww gang clearly had their own interest in the parts. Enough to kill for it.” She just had to open her mouth.
This threw sly off balance, “Wait, The Klaww gang? They already stole the parts?” Carmelita was pleased and surprised to see sly caught off guard for once. She and Neyla began to advance towards Sly. Fox deadpanned, “You can ask them yourself; they’re going to be your cellmates soon enough.” This elicited a smile from the racoon.
“No thanks, I’ve already got enough company!” Tapping his cane swiftly, a dense cloud of smoke erupted. There was no time to react. Fox knew better than to fire blindly through the smoke. “Where did he go?!” Neyla was cocky but didn’t know any of Sly’s tricks. Score one for Inspector Fox.
Sly really was predictable as ever. She seized the moment, “He’s escaping through the door, after him!” She charged through the smoke, towards the door. The constable was still coughing in the smoke. She would have to leave her behind.
Remembering her radio transceiver, she alerted security. “Suspect is moving through main hall, I’m in pursuit!” Keeping up with Sly was always difficult. Even in this hall, Bolt after bolt, miss after miss. An inch away from her grasp. One of the doors along the hall crashed open.
Two more suspects. One Hippo, One Turtle. She’s never met them, but she’s read their file. Sly’s little helpers. That’s Fine.
Because this time she had her own.
~ ~ ~ 5:49 AM ~ ~ ~
Dodging the bolts of electricity was easy for Sly. Bentley and Murray struggled to stay out of the crossfire. Luckily for them, she was focusing solely on him. “She’s obsessed with me!” He whipped his head back, seeing them both running out of breath.
Things were becoming dire. A change of plan was needed. “Meet me at the rendezvous!” As long as he diverted her attention, they were safe. The pair charged through an adjacent door, making their escape.
Sprinting down the hall he considered his next move. Another window at the end of the hall. An exit. As he rounded the corner, he was shocked. Carmelita had more than a pretty tigress to help her.
Blocking the window was a Coyote flanked by museum security. They were ready for him. Out of smoke bombs. Out of ideas. A prayer spoken to the radio in his ear, “Bentley! I need a distraction!”
Grinding to a halt, the Raccoon stood his ground. Carmelita would soon catch up from behind. All weapons were trained on him. They were ready to take him down. The Coyote spoke up, his voice exuding authority, “Looks like you’re coming with us now – put down the cane.”
Something about the man bothered Sly, but he couldn’t quite place it.
Stalling, he amused himself “Sorry, but my mom always told me not to go with strangers.” Out of patience, the Coyote’s pulse rifle began to hum. A deadpan response, “Look at my badge son, I’m hardly a stranger. Final warning, put it -” Shrill agonizing sound began to blare over the intercom. It was much louder than before.
Lights flickering in the hall gave way to darkness. No doubt Bentley’s doing, everyone but Sly was dazed in the confusion. He was never one to lose the moment. He rushed past the dazed security and burst through the window. Now outside, he surveyed the scene.
Peaking over the horizon, the sun shone over Cairo. No more darkness to cover their escape. Below, the streets were ablaze with sirens and patrol cars chasing the getaway van. Reflexively, he began making his way across a rope of decorative flags. His fur stood up on end as a shock bolt flew by his head.
Out of the museum, but not out of the woods yet. Keeping the pace, he reached out to his friends, “Thanks Bentley, but Carmelita’s still on my tail! How are you guys holding up?” Without skipping a beat, the deep voice of Murray hollered out, “We’ve almost lost them, so keep your eye out for us. Hang on to your shell Bentley! Watch this!” Violent crashes rang out in the distance. They weren’t too far ahead.
A glowing red ball of heat grazed his arm. Now two cops had the bead on him. Soon it became a hail of red and blue lights raining down on him. With the added challenge Sly was dancing his way across the rooftops. Rooftop gravel sprayed past legs with each paralyzing impact. Occasionally, a stray bolt would hit an antenna or air vent in their fervor to capture their quarry.
Booming in Sly’s ear was Murray, “We’re in the alleyway at the end of the block, just jump in Sly!” Right on que, he reached the end of the roof. Diving from the rooftop, he slid his way down various clotheslines. Screaming and lightning soared past him as he made a running leap into the back of the van. Before the van doors slammed closed the last thing he heard was Carmelita’s ire, “I’ll find you Ringtail!”