SLY COOPER

OPERATION: RESSURECTION

"They say that 'once you have someone on your tail, it's pretty hard to shake whoever is pursuing you off!' In my case, I'm referring to the ever lovely Carmelita, a cop with the single and powerful motion of capturing me and thrusting me into a jail cell where sanitary and dress codes were pretty harsh. Though, I don't just see Carmelita as an enemy and an officer of the law, but someone I've developed quite a strong bond and relationship with. It was like the two of us were meant for each other. However, when you put a pursuing enemy in a long term case such as my family's blood line from 3,000 BC to 2000 AD, it's not always easy to shake someone like Clockwerk off your list."

"Having lived for thousands of years on a soulless fountain of youth and have died once, let alone been rebuilt and dubbed Clock-La and died again, that would make it died twice, I'd say that Clockwerk was a pretty tough nut to crack till he was finally removed from this dimension and sent into his next and hopefully sane incarnation. Our last, fateful battle was fought above Paris, the City of Lights and boy was it a harsh clash. Not only had my arch nemesis been ended by a mere step on by Carmelita when I allowed her to crush the hate chip, but me and my friends left that battle with permanent scars and memories that would continue to haunt us for the rest of our lives on this earth."

"It took a while for the effects to kick in, but the gang eventually split up, shattered in a way that left them without a spark. It was then when I believed that our winning streak had finally worn off on us. Murray left on a walkabout while Bentley, unable to walk and forced to use a high-tech wheelchair stayed by my side to rebuild and rethink our on how to get the team back together. Eventually we did, and Murray was back on our team in no time. That was after Octavio was put down with the exception of the water running pure again and when the Australian outback had been returned to its original state with life flourishing again. Our gang was back into full circle after we had removed the diggers from Ayers rock and received the Guru's approval that Murray's training was finally complete. Our focus on getting the team back together gave us the time to think and admonish our thoughts. Never had the gang endured such hardships but was easily set aside by a simple fix up here and there. With all our wounds healed we were finally back on the road, not knowing what was in store for us next…"

After the Cooper gang was reformed…

The Cooper gang was having their first lucky break in a month. After twenty big heists, eleven criminal museums broken into, seven armored train hijackings and seven casino raids, the Cooper gang was on a small retreat. However, instead of heading off on vacation or taking a major holiday, they were at home, revising and fulfilling some old habits.

Scattered around their living room was the regular everyday furniture and electrical appliances. Because it was a large, rectangular room, it was easier to describe the layout and allowed the gang to move around freely and comfortably without having to scan through so many corners to try and find what they were looking for. On a more positive side, the living room wasn't at all that messy and didn't hold much of the gang's personal gear as their rooms held storage for those sorts of things. It was here that allowed the gang to fulfill some needed hobbies while in the company of their friends.

The list of furniture round the room was simple. The floor was boarded and varnished thoroughly and the walls and ceiling were painted a basic white with two windows on the far side of the wall as well as a sliding glass door that allowed them passage onto the balcony. Blue curtains of similar hues hung from the railings bars above the windows so to block out unnecessary light and perhaps some wandering eyes that weren't called for in any way.

Apart from the elaborate design of the room there was also a carpet rug laid across the floor boards for decoration with a plasma screen TV screen set up in the corner of the room and two couches set up in front of it, their backs facing the balcony door and windows. To add to the common furniture, there was also a coffee table in front of the double couch, a grandfather clock against the wall to the couch's left, a small library book shelf on the opposite side and lamp shade and a couple of potted palms to add a little bit more of an exotic touch to the atmosphere and image of the room.

Then there were the items of person belonging to each member of the gang. For starters there was Bentley's section of the room. It was stationed to the left of the TV screens facing perspective. From the direction the screen was facing, Bentley's area was on the far left corner of the room close to the windows and balcony. It was completely chocker blocked with equipment ranging from a engineer's desk, to a rack of garage tools and piled up with stacks of futuristic inventions, weaponry and electronics. At the moment, Bentley was at his desk sitting in the office chair he had built himself and welding under the light of a office lamp on his latest invention: a grenade looking device that had a highly explosive charge. But because it wasn't filled with the ingredients mixed to create the explosive force, the gang had no need to worry and had no reason to disrupt Bentley from his work.

Turning to Murray's area of the room which was in between both Sly and Bentley's sections, you could see a small gym set up for Murray himself. It was stacked with dumbbells, seats built for all types of muscle development, a rack of bars with different weights, a bench-press platform and an exercise rug. Murray was currently working on bench-pressing and just like Bentley, had no reason to be interrupted. His grunts echoed through the room from the effort he placed into his workout session just as the light from Bentley's welding that lit up his end of the apartment.

While all of the other gang members were hard at work Sly, who had no means to workout at the time or study because he was a little tired from their monthly ordeal, was sitting in his own part of the room at his desk. It was just a basic desk with a lamp and a few scattered newspapers and documents lying on it as well as the original 'souvenirs' he had pinched here and there. Those items included the famous Leonardo Da Vinci's portrait of the Mona Lisa that had been previously stolen by Sir Raleigh. Sly, during his heist to get the Thievius Raccoonus back had coincidentally claimed it as his own, as had countless of others before him (a fake portrait had been hung in place of the original thanks to the Cooper gang's intervention).

Another category of items included the crown jewels belonging to the Queen of England of 1865. The previous 'owners' of these valuable treasures were one of the local gangs in London who were under the influence of the infamous gun slinger and renowned cowboy of the Far East, General Von Sturmgiest, a WWII SS German army veteran with a notorious reputation for art dealings. He managed to get the crown jewels and bust the tyrant in the process, as well as his whole gang. Last but not least was the Dune diamond, a ruby red diamond encrusted necklace that belonged to King Horus I. It had managed to fall into the hands of King Cob Us' Cobra but after a hard brawl, Sly managed to steal it and hang it on his lamp for safe keeping. All in all, it was a rather sweet collection of priceless treasures.

Sly was already doing his own work. Under the light of his own lamp, he was busy skimming through the Thievius Raccoonus, honing in on his thieving knowledge and rehearsing his skills and techniques he had far beyond accomplished in the past many, many times. His hat had been discarded as well as his leg pouch and cane which were all hanging on a coat rack seated beside him so he could gain full relaxation for the time being. There was no greater joy in life aside from being on a heist, was for him then looking up on his history, as well as his heritage. It was a great honor as well as a great privilege to learn about his other family members. All of them had been great thieves in their time and because of their skills they had mastered, they were handed down generation after generation through this great book. Every Cooper had their own story to tell, though very little was told of Clockwerk, seeing as that most of the pages failed to describe the mechanical owl. Perhaps the curse on the family was a bit too much to swallow and most of the ancestors decided to keep the curse of Clockwerk a myth. Sly hardly believed a giant bird like Clockwerk could be that terrifying, but after his previous encounters with the crazy genius, he wasn't going to start stretching his ancestor's judgment now.

Flipping through page after page of remarkable and incredible history, Sly suddenly stopped when he came across an interesting subject in his book. On page 127, Section 5, Category 7, written in the form of an old pen was a paragraph on Sly Cooper's ancestor William 'Sharp-Shot', his war going ancestor. Aside from the black and white photograph of the Cooper on one of his most accomplished heists where he and his men were raiding a German castle, Sly discovered something that would, not only be intriguing for him, but for Bentley and Murray too.

Upon glimpsing the diary entry Sly began to read over it thoroughly, making sure to get every bit of information he could. His eyes grew wider with every word he drew in that formed the sentences.

"December 18th, 1944. It has been two long days of trudging through God forsaken swamps, endless masses of pine and crossing heavily guarded bridges. Like I always said to myself, 'war is hell', and by this time, that claim had gained a lot of new meanings. Unfortunately for us, the Germans had press ganged the allied forces into a neck breaking assault that would more then likely change the course of the war and into the favor of the Axis powers. Because of this, our supply lines have been cut, and the Germans were now looting castles, mansions and fortresses left and right. They have flushed out all resistance and with their new weapons, are taking all possible means of advantage. Though it had been several hours ago, me and the boys were fortunately able to take out a German outpost on an abandoned farm some several clicks away from Bastogne. It was here where my men and I found something interesting. Inside a bunker buried deep underground was a entire stash of hidden loot of gold, arts, jewelry and treasure ranging from Chinese artifacts all the way to Spain. Years of stolen treasure belonging to the Germans was buried here and, being the thieves we were, decided to claim a small percentage for ourselves. Holding our line for two more months till the Battle of Bulge had ended, we left as rich men, leaving the rest of the art and treasures to be claimed by ages of time and to the European owners. About 75 percent of the loot was left behind, seeing as we didn't want to cause suspicion on our getaway. This was the biggest accomplishment yet by the men of the French Cooper legion."

Sly had his attention drawn to the 75 percentage written in the letter entry and rubbed his chin in though. A mischievous smile spread across his lips as well as the tell tale signs of a sparkle of thievery glinting brightly in his eyes. His eyes cast upwards in his day dreaming as thoughts of claiming the rest of this vast fortune filled his mind, depending whether it was still around or not he wasn't sure. So, trying out his luck he tried to seek out the location of the loot in the Thievius Raccoonus or any signs leading to the farm yard. But to his disappointment, he couldn't find any other entry of the location to the bunker except for some lousy grid maps and codes that had expired several years ago.

After an unsuccessful search, Sly collected up one of the newspapers lying beside him and began reading the first article that caught his eye. Unfortunately, it was just the advertisement for a newly made shoe by the Style Right shoe company of Bloomington Illinois. The joys of boredom made Sly sigh in displeasure as the thief looked up into the ceiling. Lying back in his chair, his unconscious mind went along with his spirits.

"It's just not the same without Carmelita chasing me…" he thought, remembering the times he had been chased by that ever wonderful and dreamy cop woman. Whenever he thought about her, it always made his spirits soar. There was no telling what that vixen was doing right now…

Inside the network of Interpol's police station structure…

Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox was sitting in her office at her desk and was, at this moment, hard at work. Looking through the various documents, files and folders piled up on her desk, Inspector Fox attempted to complete her paper work and perhaps, if she got it all done, return to the Cooper case. Her eyes burned holes into the sheets of paper she held in her hand as she skimmed through every page before signing it to accept the next chain of documents or to just order in another five cartridges of ammunition for her shock pistol. There were other documents too. They ether contained information on a certain criminal, a certain group, a historic individual etc. It was these primary documents that were piled up on Carmelita's desk aside from the paper work she needed to hand in on some past or recent missions/assignments.

It was 11:00 PM in the afternoon and the entire station could be described in one word: deserted. It was night out, the pitch black yet starry sky hanging like a curtain high above the city accompanied by the reflection of the sun's rays through the use of the moon that shone brightly like a jewel. Paris, the city of lights was on in its full and formal glory, the Eiffel tower shining in the distance as the lights along its metal frame made up its shape through the cold, dark air. If the lights along the citadel were to be switched off, then the heart and soul of Paris would just vanish along with it. It was the Eiffel tower that made the city for what it was.

Carmelita however didn't take that into account though as she was too caught up and busy at work. Her office was on the top floor of the station. Because she was the Chief Inspector of the entire Interpol forces in all of France, she was entitled to 25 of the law enforcements in the world, giving her an enviable position in the upper class of Interpol's ranks. It would be a pity though if this promotional state were to be taken away from her in the form of a dishonorable discharge but fortunately willingly, she was not about to let that happen.

The only light source in her office came in the form of a office lamp sitting on her desk, lighting up the sheets of work she was looking through. The document she was reading was more interesting then what she really should be working on. It was a file on Sly Cooper and his history. Fortunately for Interpol, the last time Sly broke in to collect this file to find out the identities of the Fiendish five members who murdered his family, Carmelita had kept a second file in her home and had brought it along with her so she could look over it while she worked. She found it interesting to look up on Sly's past and admire his statistics, as well as his most recent photo. But then again, she could look to this file to find out a way of anticipating his moves and finally catch him. The only problem was, this file was four years old and ever since then, Sly had become more fluent in his heists and tracking him became an impossible task.

While she was reading the file silently to herself, she because aware of the time and looked to her wrist watch to see that it was late. When the hands showed that it was 11:06, her heart sank as this meant she would be here for a couple more hours before she could go home and allow someone else to take her daily shift. It had been months since her last break. This round the clock work was driving her into insanity. Who wouldn't if they were forced to chase an international thief across the globe? But then again, it was those moments Carmelita enjoyed in her work. Chasing Sly had become a hobby to her, a hobby she loved and enjoyed. But ever since the Clockwerk incident, she had rarely heard of him for the year to come until he started appearing in all sorts of places from Germany to South Australia. All theses sightings were drawn at random on the map and Carmelita had no idea where to look next; it was so tough keeping up. No wonder he was a master thief, he was so good.

However, because of the relatively slow field work assignments but the even slower time in the office was starting to take its toll on Carmelita's abilities, skills and strengths. Because of all the paper work her superiors kept shoving into her face and dropping on her desk, she was losing her touch. She had found out that from her last visit to the firing range which was several weeks ago, her aim was off by several millimeters, not a good sign on her account and her tracking instincts had sunk even lower. It was these skills that she was once mostly famous for that was making her too slack off and unfit for field work anymore. But that wasn't what the other officers were saying. She still stood above those other Interpol cops, agents and guards below her as well as above her but from what she could see in her, she felt that she definitely hadn't gotten out often and was relatively unfit. That's why she said to herself last night, that she would hit the running course and gym… as soon as she got her paperwork done that she found to her displeasure that it would take at least months for her to finish.

Sighing in disgust after glancing at the huge pile of paper in the inn box, she turned to the photos of Sly Cooper hanging on her wall in front of her and smiled happily, straddling her head in her hand by resting her cheek on her palm. Her eyes became half-idled and her pen soon lay useless on her desk as she started day dreaming about the handsome raccoon. On her desk there was a glass vase, and floating in the water and out of the spout formation of the vase was not only the rare blue rose Sly had given in Russia after the kiss he had given her but there were also three other red roses he had left her from time to time at three previous crime scenes. Something Carmelita loved to accept from that ring-tailed wonder.

Frowning, Carmelita averted her eyes to the side and tapped her fingers in boredom along her desk, her expression becoming tired and uncaring. She ignored her paperwork and tried to push everything else out of her mind. But wherever she looked, all she saw were desks, closed windows and a hell of a lot of filing cabinets.

"It's just not the same without having Cooper to chase… let alone chasing him after fighting a well known villain. I just wish Clockwerk was back and that I was fighting along side Sly once again…"

She spoke too soon…

High above ground level at the summit of the great volcano that had been the fortress to Clockwerk's power a strange military movement was currently underway as the thousand feet tall volcano had transformed into an excavation site that went unknown to the public eye or the law enforcements. Fumes, smoke, dust, ash and hot air no longer clouded the summit of the volcano as after years of open air, man made interferences and uneven temperature, the lava had cooled and solidified, the giant plug now blocking the shaft to the deep underground. It was this strange phenomenon that presented an excellent opportunity for a dangerous and well influenced military cult society to move in and excavate the remains of the once undisturbed and cursed graveyard.

However, this criminal organizations was unlike any other and had certainly haven't been heard of for more then 60 years. Upon reaching the summit and taking a birds eye view of the once lava filled pit, you could see the full extent of this society's work as well as the true power they possessed. It was their grip on this fortress that made it so impregnable.

Deep within the cliffs of the volcano's shaft on the solid, ash filled ground, vehicles, tents, guard towers, energy pillars, air force buildings, garages and all sorts of military alike equipment dotted the entire grounds as the sounds of machinery and loud shouts echoed all round. Moving through the crowds of people, you could easily see that these people were no ordinary people. A full 75 percent of these people were guard dogs of European breeds, mostly consisting of German shepherds and horrifically enough, they were all dressed in the fully recognizable grey and black uniform of the German soldiers that had served under Hitler's SS army. To justify this claim, hanging along the various buildings and cliffs were large banners and flags with the original eagle and Nazi sign. However, one thing was different. Surrounding the white circle containing the Nazi jack booth was a pair of falcon talon edged claws.

All the German soldiers were dressed in the 60 year old army uniform but, not only were they armed with the original Kar98 bolt action rifles, MP 40 submachine gun pistols, MG 42 and 32 model heavy machine guns, Luger P38's, Mauser pistols and Gewehr sniper rifles, but were also armed with the updated Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine guns, Model 85 sniper rifles, Heckler and Koch G36 assault rifles and the popular Beretta 92F automatic pistols. Accompanying there firearm power were also 25 halftracks, 15 Kraut cars, 20 ammunition trucks and a full arsenal of 12 King Tiger tanks. From the looks of it, a battalion of the dictator's army had resurfaced and the threat of Nazi fascism was back.

Aside from the description of the military forces, the remaining 25 percent consisted of a bunch of prisoners dressed in worker uniforms and were hard at work digging in a large crater made in the ash filled soil. This force was made up of marsupials ranging from raccoons, to possums to prisoners of war such as Siberian tigers and cats. Surrounded by a platoon of German soldiers who were all heavily armed, the diggers were forced into hard labor and if they did not comply, would be shot on sight.

Drilling equipment and shovels were given to the workers for their job which was highly classified. And those who issued the top secret orders were watching from a platform along the very top of volcano round its summit. Guarded by a more heavily armed group of SS soldiers, the tyrants watched as their workers dug for the pieces they were looking for.

Standing in between two of his best guards, the white German shepherd who bore the rank of Colonel in the Waffen SS police, the special forces of the original SS, watched the progress of his men and the prisoners. Instead of wearing the grey and black German uniform seen all around, he instead wore a full on black attire with the every now and then grey and white linings that decorated his outfit to a high class look. Because it was an officers uniform, he also wore numerous badges and to finish the look, a red Nazi Swastika armband was strapped to his left arm. This was the image Hitler created back in his time, but unfortunately for the rest of the world, that time had long stretched into the present day.

Nodding silently at seeing how far they had dug, he turned towards the guard on his right when he heard him speak. "I see that we are getting very close to the prize Herr Colonel. It must be an honor being in charge of the entire forces taking part in this expedition", said the guard in a very German accent. This guard did not wear the suited army uniform worn by his other superiors and men below him but certainly made up for it in his authority over those below him. This figure was a rare, German anthropomorphic mountain wolf with white fur and a fairly muscular body. He wore a grey muscle shirt, darker grey, German army trousers, a belt with two pistol holsters on either side holding Mauser pistols with an ammo pack tied to the back of his belt, black combat boots and a dark grey SS officer's cap. He was not apart of the Gestapo but was certainly a member of the SS.

The German shepherd snorted and, with his hands firmly clasped behind him, turned back to the excavation site in front of him far below.

"Yes but it was an ironic coincidence that our plans to recruit the Clockverk on our Fuehrer's behalf were extinguished by the allies invasion into Holland in 1944. That time has past Herr Major Fang… but I am still keeping my grandfather's promise, the Clockverk must be unveiled before the Interpol discovers that we have taken over their unit stationed here in Russia", said the Major in a very German accent, turning his scarred face towards the stiffened tigress. "I promised the Fuehrer his prize. I gave him my vord, he vill accept nothing less!"

Suddenly, the voice of his third in command spoke up beside him in the form of a giant, very muscular anthropomorphic German Pinscher. "The Fuehrer holds a very special place in his heart Herr Colonel. You have an enviable position in the SS", said the giant, overshadowing officer. This breed of soldier's fur was brown in color and grown naturally short. His hulking frame made him look as fearsome and strong as Muggshot. He stood to twice the height of either of his superior's he was standing by and bore the rank of a lower rank of Major between Captain and Major. He wore a very dark grey uniform with the Nazi arm band on his left, upper arm. He wore both a tight jacket, trousers and a shirt under that. Though he had the SS symbol on his left and right collar, the collar colors symbolized his artillery insignia. Apart of the SS German heavy weapons group, he wore a steel, black helmet and was armed with a Bazooka, a belt of stick grenades and a MG 42. All of which were hanging from his outfit. He also had a black mustache, but his eyes were mostly hidden by the shadow of his helmet.

The German shepherd overheard his third in command clearly and growled as his fists tightened behind him, edging to grab the Eagle shaped handled knife tied to the front of his belt as well as the Luger pistol in the holster at his side. Because he wore an oversized, black trench coat that also sported the Nazi and SS rank and insignia, his firearm was out of sight, as well as the ten ammunition clips he wore on the belts of his tunic.

"Yes and it vould be a tragedy to have it cut short by a firing squad", growled the Colonel, making the far taller and larger soldier cringe in discomfort to the menacing tone in his voice. He shrugged suggestively and turned away.

"Even I envy your powers sir. Please Herr Colonel, I do not want to remind you of your duties. You were never this edgy before, not after Sly Cooper…" the dog began to say but was cut off from speech when the sounds of slicing and the appearance of a silver, sharp and shiny blade came out of nowhere and pressed itself along his neck line at a very dangerous angel and position. If it were any closer, it would have sliced open his throat.

"Do… not… say… that… name… to… me", hissed the German shepherd menacingly. Captain Scar-Sting gulped and closed his eyes, hoping that this blade did not end his life right then and there. He prayed that this Colonel was forgiving.

The Colonel, known as Herr Colonel Kennel scowled up at his frightened officer and pressed the flat part of the knife against his chin, tilting his head towards him so he could see the dog's tightly clenched eyes. "The SS have latitudes to do many things. Killing members of the German army regrettably is not vhat the Fuehrer vished to picture in his glorious Empire and I respect that", the Colonel firmly stated, his eyes glinting his hate. He withdrew his knife and pushed it back in its sheath before lowering his arms by his sides again and turning back to the work site in front of him, hearing the German soldiers shouting commands and orders to the workers. "Besides the rules and obligations I must oblige tovards the Fuehrer, I have a mission to fulfill and if it is not accomplished then you can kiss the remains of the great Nazi party good-bye!"

Captain Scar-Sting opened his eyes and rubbed his neck to see if anything was cut and was relieved to find that nothing was. Mustering up all the confidence he had he returned to his duties of remaining silent and standing guard. Major Fang had witnessed the little incident but figured it was just a minor argument and didn't do anything, nor did he react to the sharp movements of his commanding officer.

"I assure you Herr Colonel that the 'Eagles Talons SS Gestapo legion' is the finest of all the units that participated in WWII in the Fuehrer's army. You have my confirmation that this new generation of soldiers will not fail and we will rebuild Clockwerk with all the remaining metals of his previous frame we can find. You have my word Herr Colonel", said Major Fang confidently. Colonel Kennel smirked and nodded.

"I agree Herr Major. And vith this little piece…" said the Colonel, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked to be a small, microchip with a golden eye, showed his senior officers his prize. The golden gleam caught their attentions as both Major Fang and Captain Scar-Sting stared at the small device he held firmly in his hand with both surprised and intrigued gazes. The Colonel smirked and pushed the chip back into his pocket, an evil glint in his eye. "Vith the Hate chip back up unit that vas stored in the rear of the ash remains of Clockverk's brain of the Clock-La model, ve vill be able to resurrect the mighty monster's original frame and body and fulfill his, ours and the Fuehrer's mission of conquering the vorld." The Colonel grinned evilly, his forward fangs flashing brightly. "And vith the newly resurrected Clockverk at our side, ve vill be unstoppable…"

TO BE CONTINUED…