FSE

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Somewhere outside of Montreal, Canada. 11:29 PM local time.

After getting off the boat, Murray stopped the van on a cliff to check the engine. After such a rush from the police, he wanted to check the engine and the shocks to be safe. While he was doing that, Sly and Bentley were looking over the view. Bentley was taking the opportunity to observe some local birds, and from atop the van's roof, Sly was trying to see if he could zoom in on Carmelita, but Montreal was just too far away. Bentley could sense what Sly was doing.

"You know Sly," he told him, "the binocucom allows us to zoom in at alot of things, but I think if you try to zoom in on Inspector Fox from this far away, you're just going to hurt you're eyes."

"Sorry Bentley." apologised Sly. "I was trying to see if I could get a better look at those goons Carmelita got."

Bentley nodded in agreement, "I concur. If it wasn't for that smoke bomb, we would have been in handcuffs. I should look up their Intrerpol profiles when I get the chance. Something about them smelt fishy...."

Murray, who had heard bits and pieces of what he friends were saying as he checked the oil, said "Oh sorry about that. That's the emergency tuna sandwich I keep in the van. I guess I should throw it out."

Before Sly and Bentley could fully cringe at that, the silence was interupted by a loud shouting in a foreign tongue. Murray banged his head against the hood of the van and turned around, shouting "What the heck is that?" The gang looked over to the woods where the shouting, which now turned into chanting, came from. Soon, a figure stepped into the clearing. It was a jet-black raven, dressed in deer-skin clothing and eagle feathers.

"REPENT, my brothers!" he shouted. He looked at the now puzzled trio and added, "Hey, I know you guys! You're the Cooper gang! I saw you guys on TV back when I had a TV!"

Sly jumped off the roof of the van and onto the ground. "In that case, you should know that it would be pointless to call the cops." noted Sly.

"No, my brothers!" the raving raven began to preach, "I offer you true freedom! For the guy who shall save us all! And all you have to do is to go out west to BC and give away your possessions to Shaman Granite!"

After a moment of awkward silence, Murray explained "Yeah, we don't feel like giving away all our stuff to some guy named after a rock."

The raven shrugged and told them as he walked to the edge of the cliff, "Suit yourselves. If you change to minds, you know where to go."

"Uh, buddy?" said Sly, trying to warn the raven about the cliff.

The raven's responce as we fell off the side was "Wha-aaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!" The gang looked at each other nervously, knowing what this could mean, until they heard from the bottom of the cliff, "It's OK! I'm alright!"

As his two friends looked down, Sly stroked his chin. "Something tells me that's not the first time he has fallen off a cliff." he noted.

Bentley looked over his shoulder and told Sly "Unfortunately, it's not just him. Back in the city, I noticed some posters talking about a great shaman from out west. I looked it up and apparently, just outside of Vancouver, lives a shaman who offers magical cures for a price and offers enlightenment for those willing to give up material possessions to him. It's new age hooie like that is why I only fallow trends in technology."

"I thought shamans asked you to give up all your old life, not take all your stuff for themselves." commented Murray.

"You're right Murray." agreed Sly, "This doesn't seem right. I say we drop in on this 'shaman' and just see what he's up to. Is the van ready Murray?"

"It should be ready in a few minutes. I just need to fix the spark plugs and it should be ready to go." explained Murray, heading back to the engine.

"I better contact Dimitri to tell him we'll be gone for longer then planned." said Bentley.

"Well you're talking to him, ask if he can look up anything on Carmelita's new squad. He's been in jails all over the world, so he's bound to have ran into at least of few of those cops over the years." suggested Sly.

Bentley nodded and answered "Good idea."

...

Back in Montreal, 2 hours later.

Wilson (a blue-gray kangaroo) and Khumalo (a elephant with a tinge of purple) were searching the streets for any clues to where the Cooper gang would be heading to next.

"I can't believe that we are searching this god-forsaken ice-box of a city." complained Wilson, (in an Australian accent) shivering from the cold.

"I can't believe that someone who was in the armed forces is whining about the cold." noted Khumalo, looking through an alley way.

"Well, it doesn't get THIS cold back home." shivered Wilson.

"It doesn't get cold where I come from, but I'm perfectly fine." Khumalo pointed out.

Starting to make a snowball to throw at the elephant, Wilson told him "That's because you have so much fat to keep you warm!"

Before Wilson could throw the snowball, a loud shout came from behind them, making her drop it. They turned around to see that a deranged raven chanting behind them.

He stomped chanting and asked "Say, what are you doing?"

"Offical police business. Now go away." Khumalo told him.

The raven put a finger up to his beak and told them "Police? You know, funny story, I was walking here on a quest to spread the word of the wise Shaman Granite-"

"What, his name's Granite?" interupted Wilson, while Khumalo tried to hold back a laugh at how crazy the bird before them was.

"Yes, why does everyone always find that odd?" the raven asked, "Anyway, I was walking here when I ran into the Cooper gang-"

"The Cooper gang?!?!" shouted Wilson.

"You didn't let me finish, then I fell off a cliff and then walked into town and ran into you cops, isn't that a funny turn of events?"

Wilson shot a look at Khumalo as if to ask "What's wrong with this guy?", to which the elephant just shrugged.

"Would you like to help the police with you're information?" asked Khumalo.

"Why of course." answered the raven, "It's one of my duties as a memeber of the Shaman's tribe to help others."

"OK, let's go." Wilson told him. He took a deep breath as he was about to start chanting agian, when Wilson knocked him out with a baton and added "No you don't."

"Why did you do that?" asked Khumalo, "He was more then willing to go!"

"I didn't want to hear him flap his gob the entire way." Wilson explained. As they walked back to HQ, Khumalo put the raven's unconscious body over his sholder to bring back to Inspector Fox.

...

Somewhere outside of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Rented Cottage. 2:00 PM local time.

The Cooper gang stood outside the place that would serve as their safehouse for this heist: a Cottage that Bentley had rented using some of the money the gang had gotten on their latest heist.

"Nice place Bentley." noted Sly.

"Well, anything's an upgraded from that apartment." Murray added, carrying some of Bentley's stuff into the cabin.

"While we get the safehouse set up, how about you go out and take some recon photos?" asked Bentley.

"Sure thing." said Sly, running off into the woods so he wouldn't be spotted.

"And be sure to keep an eye out for Inspector Fox and her new goons!" shouted Murray.

"Murray, it might help if you don't shout so loud." Bentley told him in a hushed tone.

"Oh right." responded Murray, before shouting even louder "SORRY SLY!"

...

"Sly, I got the equipment set up. Do you read me, over?" radioed Bentley.

Sly, using his cane to hang from a hook left by some tree cilmbers on a redwood overlooking the cottages in the valley, answered "I read you Bentley. Any local 'sights' you want me to take some photos of in particuar?"

"Why yes," answered Bentley, "I'm updating the locations to your Binocucom."

"Thanks Bentley. It's time to see what this Granite guy is up to. Anyone who would make someone do something as crazy as give all their stuff away and make them walk across the second largest country in the world can't be as good they say." commented Sly, as he jumped off the hook and opened his paraglider to slowly descend towards the ground. He sneaked around the valley, taking pictures of the so-called shaman's operation: the cottages of sick looking people who had come from all over to be cured by the shaman's magic; the village he had of all the people who had given up their stuff to become part of the shaman's 'tribe'. Sly then got up to the mountain home that was carved right into the rock where the shaman lived. Hiding inside an air vent, he managed to snap a photo of the luxurious room where the shaman slept. To Sly's surprise, this shaman was a collie, and a very familiar one at that.

"Bentley? It's Sly, I got all the recon photos you needed." Sly radioed to his friends.

"OK, Sly. Come back to the safehouse and we can figure out what to do next." responded Bentley.

Sly soon got back, althought not as fast as usual with the lack of many high rooftops, and found that Murray had already had started to go through the food in the cottage's mini-bar.

"Already eating, huh Murray? I hope you know that they usual also put decks of cards in their, right?" Sly told Murray.

"Nah, doesn't have any stuff like that, but I did find a tin of this stuff called 'pem-i-con'." said Murray before dropping the contents into his mouth.

"That's pemmican, Murray" corrected Bentley. "It's dried meat and fat mixed with powered berries. It's what explorer's and native peoples used to eat on long journeys."

Murray's eyes widened and started to tear up. He then started to cough and hoarsely called out "Water!" as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

As Murray drank the water, Sly gave his binocucom to Bentley and told him "Hey Bentley, look at the last photo, doesn't Shaman Granite look familer?"

Bentley scaned through the photos and when he saw the shaman, he scratched his head, trying to remember. "It rings a bell." commented Bentley.

After he quenched his thirst, Murray walked over and looked at the photo. "Hey, I remember him! He's that magician guy we saw that time in Vegas. Remember, the Great Robert Granite?" he recalled.

Remembering, Sly said "Oh yeah, I remember him. He began the show with pulling his assistant out of his hat, then it went downhill after that, until we used the cover of his grand finale to escape Carmeltia and the LVMPD of course."

"Well, from what I read, he hasn't been seen in over a year." noted Bentley.

Before they could continue to reminace, a knock came to the door. Sly looked through the door's peep hole to see a poor looking coyote.

"Excuse me?" the coyote asked. "I'm collecting for my tribe. About a year ago, someone bought out our tribe's tradtional land and we are collecting money to bring civil action against him."

Disguising his voice, Sly told him "I'm sorry, but could you come back later?"

"Um, sure." responded the coyote, as he walked away.

"Well, now we definitely need to take this guy down a few pegs." said Sly to his friends, who nodded in agreement.

...

Meanwhile, in a cabin down the ways from the Cooper gang's safehouse, Inspector Fox, Webb and the rest where getting ready for a stakeout. Wilson was still shivering from the Canadian climate, although not as much as back in Montreal.

"I sure hope that crazy bird was right." noted Carmelita, cleaning her shock pistol. "You know, Webb, I don't see why we don't just try and pose as members of that crazy shaman crook's 'tribe.' That way, we could be RIGHT there when and if Cooper makes a move, we can catch him right there and then!"

Webb, writing something down in his notebook, explained to the inspector, "Miss Fox, no offence, but that would mean acting like you gave up all material possessions, and I could swear that you shot the stewardess a nasty look on the plane when she asked you to turn off your phone."

In responce, Carmelita bopped Webb over the head, causing Khumalo and Wilson to laugh at him. Carmelita then threw on her coat, loaded her shock pistol and grabbed her handcuffs.

"Well, I don't know about you," said Carmelita, "but I'm going out on patrol." Webb just grumbled slightly as he grabbed some ice from the minibar.

...

Early the next morning...

The gang was already to take out Shaman Granite's operation. Sly could tell he wasn't in crime for very long, considering how easy this was, although, he was keeping an eye out, just to be safe. They had managed to bug the shaman's house and get the people (who had been tricked with fake cures) to stop paying the shaman and even figured out how to get into the old mine shaft that Granite stored all of pilfered items. Murray drove the van into the mine shaft. Bentley wheeled over to a spot in the rock wall a couple of feet away from the van.

"According to my calculations-" Bentley began.

Sly interupted, knowing what Bentley was going to say next "Which are always correct."

"Precisely," nodded Bentley. "Anyway, if Murray drills into the rock here, I can put in a stick of TNT that will make a hole in the rock big enough for us to get in, but not so much it would cause the place to collapse. You ready, Murray?"

"Sure thing!" said Murray, as he began using the drill he got off Thiefnet to make a hole in the wall. Bentley put the stick of TNT inside and lit the fuse. The gang quickly ran out of the blast radius, right before the large (and loud) explosion, ducking behind the van and covering their ears. After the dust settled, they walked in and saw all the stuff inside: money, cell phones, gold, all sorts of things.

"Remember the plan guys, only take a little bit. Leave the rest for the nice people who are going to want a 'refund' from Granite." Sly told his gang.

"Well, the van is still kind of full from both our equipment and the loot from our last heist, so we can only take so much without being unable to outrun the cops." Bentley pointed out.

Sly rubbed the back of his neck and told him "That too, but it sounds a bit less seflish my way."

"True." agreed Bentley.

All of a sudden, the sound of drums beating started to echo and a deep voice boomed "No one is taking anything!"

Black smoke billowed out of a doorway that linked the shaman's house to the stash as the voice continued "Sly Cooper, leave this place, or face your doom!"

"Don't try that on us, 'Shaman,' or should I say, 'the Great Robert Granite'?" yelled Sly.

The smoke cleared to reveal the former magican standing their, dressed in a deerskin outfit and a feathered headdress and holding a microphone.

Bentley, being the smart guy that he is, called to Granite "You know, First Nations people here don't dress like that."

"Who-" began the pseudo-shaman, talking into the microphone, before tossing it aside, causing the sound of feedback to ring through the room. He started agian, this time in his normal speaking voice, which was much more sleazy, "Who cares? The point is, you aren't going to take my stuff!"

"It's not your stuff." Sly pointed out, "you tricked people for quack cures and 'enlightenment' for their things!"

"Either way," Granite told them, "as a magician, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to stop you!"

"Like what?" asked Murray, picking up some coins to put in the van.

"Like this!" shouted Granite, throwing a smoke bomb and disapearing, then appearing right in front of Murray, punching him in the nose, then pulling the same trick to disapear before Murray could fight back.

"How did he do that?!?!" shouted a disorientated Murray.

"A good magician never reveals his secrets!" said Granite.

"Quick Sly!" Bentley told him, "We will destract him, while you take the smoke bombs from his pocket."

Sly gave him the thumbs-up as he sneaked away. Bentley started waving his hands and yelled "Hey Granite, over here, you overzealous wannabe conjurer!"

Murray, joining in, added "Yeah, what he said. And your Vegas act stunk worse then you're feet!"

"My feet don't smell! Do they?" shouted Granite, not noticing Sly pickpocketing him, before sniffing his feet "Oh yeah, they do." Sly then took the opportunity to knock Granite down to the ground. After hitting the floor, he tried searching his pockets.

"Looking for these?" asked Sly, holding up the smoke bombs.

Granite stumbled to his feet and told them "It doesn't matter. I have a whole VILLAGE of idiots who will protect me! I mean, they were dumb enough to give me all their stuff!" The sounds of shouting echoed from outside into the mineshaft. "What's that noise?" asked Granite.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. We bugged the place. You're whole 'tribe' just heard what you said." Sly told him.

Granite started to panic and run away, but Murray stopped him, picked him up, and picked up a nearby length of rope to hogtie him. Sly and Bentley loaded the rest of the loot they could into the van before they drove out of the mineshaft. Once they drove out, they could see an angry mob with torches calling for Granite.

"Time to give the people what they want!" shouted Murray, tossing the despicable con-man out the van's window.

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" shouted Granite, as he fell into the mob, who then proceeded to beat him like an old rug. As the gang drove down the beaten dirt trail that led to they took to get there, Sly noticed a black and white SUV fallowing them.

"I know who that is." Sly thought to himself.

"Cooper gang," Webb called over the megaphone, "Pull over and put your hands up abov-"

Interrupting, Wilson grabbed the megaphone, saying "Oi, Inspector Fox said I could ask them to pull over!"

"No, shut up, stupid, she said that I could ask them to pull over!" argued Webb.

The two of them bickered over the megaphone as Sly reached into the pile of loot in the back of the van. He pulled out a platinum, much to the awe of Murray, who responded with "A platinum megaphone? Cool!"

"It appears that some very rich people were conned by Granite." noted Bentley as Sly leaned out the passenger side window to climb on top of the roof.

Waving, Sly started the old back-and-forth with Carmelita. "Carmelita, it seems your posse is having trouble getting along. Maybe you should do some trust falls."

Carmelita shouted at the cops " QUIT ARGUING AND START SHOOTING!" Sly quickly ducked the hail of gunfire.

"You know Carmelita," explained Sly, "One of the scrects to a good thief is that he always has a trick up his sleeve!" He pulled out some of the smoke bombs he stole from Granite and threw them agianst the ground. Using the cover of the smoke screen, Murray drove off into the thick woods. Carmelita pulled over the SUV and by the time the smoke had settled, the gang and their van were long gone.

"I can't believe he still got away.....with the same trick!" Carmelita yelled.

"I still can't believe you are still surpised when he get's away." noted Webb. As angry as Carmelita was, Wilson was boiling, eye twitching and everything.

" THAT'S IT!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, " I TIRED OF THIS! I FLEW ALL THE WAY TO AN ICE BALL OF A CITY, CHASED AFTER AN ARROGENT RACCOON, LISTEANED TO AN ANNOYING RAVEN, TRAVELED ACROSS A WHOLE COUNTRY TO A FREEZING FOREST TO HAVE THE SAME THING HAPPEN AGAIN! AND WITH THE LIKES OF YOU THREE! WEBB, YOU'RE AS USEFUL AS USEFUL AS A ONE-LEGGED MAN IN AN ARSE KICKING CONTEST! INSPECTOR FOX, YOU'RE A BITCH, AND KHUMALO, YOU ARE A FAT DRONGO WITH A FACE LIKE A SMASHED CRAB!"

"Hey, I'm big boned." defended Khumalo.

Wilson continued " NO ONE HAS HALF A TON OF BONE!"

Carmelita (who was now obviously upset) shouted " Well you are fired!"

" Good! You couldn't run a BATH!" shouted Wilson.

Webb moved over and whispered to Khumalo "I think we should go and check up on that shaman bloke." Khumalo nodded in agreement and they both ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction.

" OK, you want me gone?! FINE!" shouted Wilson, tossing her badge and a gun to the ground and walked done the dirt trail, but not before kicking the SUV and setting off it's alarm.

A few minutes later, Wilson picked up a rock next to the road and picked up a stack of australian dollars that was under it. On it was a note that read "from the boss." She stuffed the money into her pocket and walked down the road.

To be continued.......