"The Vixen"
Author: Robert Brown
Disclaimer: This story uses characters created and copyrighted by Sucker
Punch, Inc. (except where noted, in which case they were created
and copyrighted by me or by another and I have permission to use
them). The author hereby gives permission for this story to be
downloaded and/or printed at 1 copy per user as long as (1) no
changes to the story are made without my express written(not
e-mailed) permission and (2) no attempt is made to profit from
this story. If either or both rules are violated, it will be
considered a violation of copyright law.
Chapter 2: The Vixen Appears
It had been two months now since Clockwerk had been destroyed and Sly
was starting to get bored. I mean yes, he completely understood that Bentley
needed to recover and adjust to life in a wheelchair, but he did not have the
type of personality that would allow him to stay still for long. He needed
some action, and soon, or he was going to go crazy from cabin fever.
"Hey Sly," Murray called from the kitchen, "dinner's ready."
"Be there in a minute Murray," Sly called in answer, standing up from
where he was lounging on the couch. Not for the first time, Sly was glad that
Murray knew how to cook. Without him around, Sly was sure his meals would
consist of TV dinners and canned beans.
Sly vaulted over the low wall that separated the living room from the
kitchen and landed in his seat. Murray, used to his over-the-top antics, just
kept loading hamburgers onto a plate. "Now Sly," he said slowly, as if
talking to a young child, "I know you're hungry, but you're just going to have
to wait for Bentley to get here. It's not polite to eat without him. Go take
a quick nap or something."
"I know Murray," Sly said, rolling his eyes. "I got that within the
first hundred times you mentioned it."
"Oh yeah? Then why did you swipe one of the burgers while I was putting
them on this plate? And don't give me that innocent look," Murray continued
without even turning around. "I'm the one who taught you how to do it back at
the orphanage."
Sly grinned at the back of Murray's head, taking a big bite of the
burger he was indeed holding. He knew that Murray hadn't caught him taking
it, Murray just knew that Sly would do it. Besides, with as many burgers as
Murray was making, surely one wouldn't be missed.
A yawn split his face as he finished the burger. Maybe a quick nap
wouldn't be such a bad idea. Bentley would wake him up once he got down here.
Convinced of that, Sly let his head fall onto the table and closed his eyes.
"Sly!" Bentley hissed, shaking his friend's shoulder. "Hey Sly, wake
up!"
"Huh?" Sly said, sitting up and wincing at the foul taste in his mouth.
He had to blink his eyes a few times to clear his vision. "How long was I
out?"
Bentley rolled back in his wheelchair a foot or two as Sly stretched out
"You've been out for about an hour now," he said, flinching slightly at the
look of surprise on Sly's face. "Hey, we tried to wake you, but you were
snoring worse than Murray."
"I do not snore," Sly protested, wiping at the corner of his mouth
without realizing he was doing it.
Bentley arched an eyebrow. "No, but you do drool," he deadpanned. "Are
you feeling all right? You have been sleeping a lot lately."
Sly rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Well maybe I wouldn't be sleeping
so much if I actually had something to do."
"Well there's plenty to do," Bentley argued. "You could clean up the
hideout, or let me teach you how to use a computer."
"I'll pass," Sly said. "Look Bentley, you're the brains of this outfit.
Put me in front of a computer and I'm more likely to break it than hack it."
"Too true," Bentley had to admit. "Well, if nothing else, I guess we
can go on this heist I've been planning."
It took only the words "this heist" to break Sly out of his stupor. "A
heist?" he asked, his ears and tail perking up. "But wait, are you sure
you're up for this? I mean, I know I'm getting antsy at all, but I don't want
to rush you out there if you're not ready."
Bentley couldn't help but smile at his friend's concern. "Trust me Sly,
if I wasn't ready, we wouldn't be going. Besides, it's a simple museum job.
There's a piece of art on loan to the museum called 'A Vixen's Lament.' What
the museum doesn't know is that really doesn't belong to the person who loaned
it."
"So we'll just claim ownership of it," Sly said, taking his family's
cane in one hand and twirling it around. "I'm sure it will look perfectly
lovely on Detective Fox's wall." He hooked his cap with his cane and flipped
it up so that it landed squarely on his head. "So, when do we leave?"
Bentley chuckled at his friend's enthusiasm. "Well, if you can keep
awake, we can go now. Oh and Sly, I don't think that Inspector Fox will be
able to hang a statuette on her wall."
"Inspector Fox?" Sly said slowly. "I thought she made detective?"
"She did," Bentley confirmed. "But then she was demoted right back to
inspector after she let you get away. It's been in all the papers. With how
much you obsess over her, I'm surprised you haven't found out about it by
now."
"I am only as obsessed with her as she is obsessed with me."
Bentley rolled his eyes as he rolled his wheelchair out of Sly's way.
"Regardless, if you see her tonight, try not to antagonize her too much."
Sly just smirked and hurried out to where their van was parked behind a
dumpster. Nearly lost when they had hitched a ride to Arpeggio's blimp, the
van was as much a part of their team as either Sly, Bentley, or Murray. So
while Bentley was still healing under Murray's care, Sly had gone back to the
frozen north to retrieve it.
What an adventure that had been. Sly still didn't like to talk about
it, but what little he did let slip assured the others that it was an
experience Sly was in no hurry to repeat. He still had the occasional
numbness in his off hand from the frostbite he'd suffered, but it was getting
fewer and further between.
The ride to the museum was silent, all three of them occupied with their
own thoughts. Sly was trying hard not to bounce around, recognizing just how
important this night was. But all the pent up energy over the last two months
was just begging to be released. "Soon enough," he promised himself.
"We're here guys!" Murray said, pulling into a shadowed parking space
not too close to the museum.
Sly nearly sprang out of his seat at that. "Are we going to set up a
safehouse?"
"For a job this small Sly?" Bentley asked, amused. "Nah, this is just
get in, get the statuette, and get out. Nothing fancy here."
Sly leaned on his cane as he regarded his turtle friend. "Not even a
slideshow or anything?" he teased.
Bentley flushed as he adjusted his glasses. "Nope, nothing of the sort.
Just find a good vantage point while I hack into the museum's security with
my laptop. Fortunately it has a wireless network so I don't have to access an
inner terminal. I'm uh...not quite ready to get back in the field."
"It'll happen," Sly promised, laying one hand on Bentley's shoulder in a
show of support. "Time to get moving. Contact me on my binoc-u-com when it's
safe to go. But don't take out anything on the inside of the museum; I want
that pleasure for myself."
Bentley just sighed and shook his head. "All right, but I will be
monitoring your progress. If I see you need help, then I'll act. But not
before that, deal?"
"Deal," Sly said, opening the back door. "I'll wait on the roof for
your signal." Sly charged out and slunk around the museum, looking for the
best way up. A drainpipe led right up to the roof, but that way was too easy
to work off all the energy that Sly had.
Sly chose instead to pull himself up to a first floor window. Crouching
down, he leapt up to the window directly above it. From there he jumped to a
protruding ledge and edged around it until his way was blocked by an oversized
planter. Undeterred, Sly jumped on top of it, using his family's Ninja Spire
Jump to land on one of the points of the planted cactus. He took a moment to
gather himself and then sprang up, hooking his cane on the mouth of a gargoyle
and swinging up to a higher ledge. That ledge was within easy reach of the
roof, but Sly still hooked his cane on a hook in the wall and leaned back,
using his strength and leverage to catapult himself on top of the roof.
Sly landed on a narrow wooden beam that had been left on the roof from
some previous construction, his arms outstretched like a gymnast's upon
dismount. "Thank you, thank you," he said, bowing to an imaginary audience.
"For my next trick--" Sly cut off as his binoc-u-com started vibrating.
Pulling it from his hip holster, he put it up to his eyes and activated it.
"Yeah Bentley, I'm in position," he whispered into the microphone.
"Sly!" Bentley yelled, making Sly flinch. "We've got a problem! The
museum's security system is down."
"And that is a problem...how?" Sly asked, confused.
Bentley's face on the binoc-u-com's screen grew drawn and worried.
"Ordinarily it wouldn't be a problem," Bentley agreed. "But I'm not the one
who took it down. It was hacked before we even got here!"
Sly's eyes lit up at Bentley's words. "Well well, looks like we might
have a little competition on our hands. What say I find out who this other
thief is and let him know that he's in our territory."
"Be careful Sly," Bentley warned. "We know nothing about this other
thief or what he's capable of."
"Why Bentley, when am I not careful?" Sly asked with a smirk. "Over
and out," he added, shutting off the binoc-u-com and stashing it away before
Bentley could say anything more. He took a quick glance around the rooftop
and saw a smashed vent. "Just the entrance I would take," he thought,
running over and slipping inside.
Once he was inside the museum, it was easy to see someone had already
been there. A few knocked out guards, some broken open doors and desks, and
quite a few looted lockboxes. "Well, I'll say this for the guy," Sly thought
as he hurried along the path of destruction, "he sure is thorough. I don't
think he's missed a single thing."
Sly ran down to the main area of the museum, fully expecting to see some
of the more expensive artwork stolen. But nothing was touched, not even the
most expensive piece in the museum: a painting easily worth over fifty million
dollars. Sly stared at the painting for a bit, trying to figure out why any
other thief would just pass it by when the most unusual explanation worked its
way through his mind. "No way," he murmured slowly, rushing off to where his
statuette waited.
Or rather, where it had been waiting for him. The pedestal on which it
had sat was bare, the glass that had been covering it expertly shattered with
a single blow. But upon closer examination, the pedestal wasn't exactly bare.
Laying on it was a raised card, fashioned in the shape of a fox's tail, and
completely white. "What's this now?" Sly wondered aloud, picking up the
card and examining it.
"That would be my calling card," a soft and sultry voice with a distinct
French accent said from above him. Sly slowly looked up and his jaw dropped
open at the sight that met his eyes.
TO BE CONTINUED (
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