Thief meet Thief

Thief, meet Thief

Prologue

            "Okay, this is a small, localized bank.  But be careful of that woman sitting in her cruiser across from you.  She's a real hot-shot Interpol agent.  Don't wake the baby, okay kids?  Now get this done."  Bain said in his usually irritated tone.  I sat calmly in the back of our van, dusting off my tie and jacket. 

            "Check your cases, make sure you boys have everything.  All right?"  My team obeyed.  I starred at my mask.  White, lined with the American flag on the front.  This was what separated one life from another.  Life from work.  Freedom from safety.  Between church and state.  I'm good at what I do, and I like doing it.  We strolled casually across the street, appearing as average businessmen.  We ducked into an alleyway and hid behind the bank near the back window. 

            "All right boys."  I said as I opened my briefcase.  "Let's break bad."  I placed on my mask, and the heist was on.  Smashing through the back, I fired my gun in the air, alerting everyone of our presence.  We were getting everyone quite.  Then, the pretty lady working as a teller asked me a question.  

            "Why are you doing this?"  I knelt down next to her ear behind her.

            "WE'RE ROBBING YOU!"

Chapter I- Average day until now

            It was an average day on the streets of Paris.  Midday, warm, and sunny.  Overall, tranquil is how I'd describe it.  But these streets never stay peaceful for long.  I was parked outside of a bank in my cruiser, waiting patiently for any sign of trouble.  Usually I'd be on top of things today, but I've been unusually forgetful.  First my coffee, then my keys, then my badge.  I don't know why.  Winston, a friend of mine, suggested that I take today off.  I appeared tired, and in the best of honesty.  I was tired.  But there's another thing I don't believe in.  Taking a day off.  The way I see it, crime doesn't take a day off.  Bored, I began to drift asleep.  But I was awakened from a scream.  A terrible scream from a woman across the street from the bank.  It was indistinct but I swore I heard her yell: "There are people in there!  Oh my God!  They're gonna die!"  This set off my alarm.  I picked up my shock pistol and shoved my way out of my cruiser.  I aimed my shock pistol at the tall puma standing near the glass door with padding and a machine gun in his arms.  Then, a loud cracking sounded.  One of my cruiser's windows was smashed.  I looked up at the roof.  A coyote with a pink clown mask held a sniper rifle in my direction. 

            "This is Inspector Carmelita Fox.  I'm at East Savings and Trust bank.  I am under fire and I need backup immediately."  The rifle again exploded in my direction.  I knelt up and fired at the man on the roof, but he was out of range for my shock pistol.  I then heard engines roaring down the road and sirens wailing down the highway.  Gracias Dios, my backup came on time for once.  I thought to myself.  Two more police cars parked in front of the bank in attempt to barricade it.  Winston dashed between cars and took cover next to me.

            "You alright Inspector?"  I glanced up at him.

            "I've been better."  Another rifle round snapped against the side of my cruiser.  Other officers began to open fire on the bank, but whoever these criminals were, they were tough.  It seemed as if nothing we fired at them worked.  Bullets and shock rounds littered the ground as glass shattered and metal sparked.  Loud pops were heard all down the street.  Still, my main concern was for the civilians inside the bank.  Looking at the SWAT van across from us, I saw one officer with a shield climb out of the back. 

            "Guys!  It's a fucking shield!"  I heard one of the criminals say.  I guess that was their weakness.  But I had completely forgotten about the sniper.  Before I could yell 'watch out!'  the officer with the shield was dead on the ground, a 7.62 lodged straight through the helmet and slicing through the soft tissues in his head.  The men broke out around the street, firing madly, killing anyone that moved.  I only had one option.  I had to make a call.

            "Mason?  Where in the hell are you?"  His deep, German voice replied rather calmly. 

            "Relax, we're almost there.  Besides, they don't kill civvies anyway.  It costs too much."

            "Just get here quick, we've lost too many men."  I glanced up at Winston, who was engaging the four killers all by himself.  Shock filled my gaze as a bullet had found him, striking him in the stomach.  He flumped to the ground with a loud thud. 

            "Winston!  Are you okay?"  The poor possum coughed. 

            "Yeah, he got me... I don't know if I'll make it.  If you see Cooper again.  Tell him that Interpol's been boring without him."  I looked at my friend in despair.  "I'll try to make it.  But just make sure that he knows that if I don't."  I placed my hand on his shoulder and nodded to him nervously.  I turned around to see the coyote with a fox hooking up the bag of money on the roof of the bank.  I gazed in shock as a bi-plane flew by, hooking up the bag and soaring off with it.  My shock changed to anger.  There's got to be at least 10k in there!  Those bastards!  I was about to reengage when I notice they had already reached the street across from me at the intersection.  Stepping away from the cruiser, I ducked behind a wall, shock pistol set to kill and ready for anything.  I glanced around the corner.  All four robbers, a fox, a coyote, a puma, and a lion just standing there, guns in hand.  Staring straight ahead.  In front of them.  That bastard.  That murderer.  That... Degenerate piece of war-scarred husky.  But he was our only chance of catching these guys. 

            "Haven't seen you bastards since my Merc days."  He smirked, probably remembering his days of guns blazing, firing in the same line they once stood together.  I felt the tension of the moment crush my chest and make my breathing feel like a day's work.  The criminals spread out a bit, to match each man eye to eye.  Gun to gun.  They all raised their weapons.  Come on, Mason... It's now or never.  I thought to myself nervously.  Mason cocked his rifle.  The rest of his team did the same.  I guess it's now.  Gunfire exploded across the street, the people ran in terror from the shop across from the bank.  Out of the dozen or so officers they killed, Mason was the first one to make them flinch.  Blood spurted out from Mason's shoulder.  Ace took a 7.62 to the side, dropping him down.  Mason glanced to the side, he gritted his teeth.  Another bullet struck him in the leg, forcing him to limp his way forward.  Erik then took two 9mms into his shoulder and chest, dropping him to his knees.  Henry and Mason were the only two left.  Shimmering blood ran from Colt's barred teeth.  Henry's fur was matted and his bloody nose had stained his mouth and neck.  I watched as the last two were met by more bullets.  Henry couldn't take any more abuse.  He dropped to the ground, coughing and bleeding.  One more bullet met Colt's stomach.  He dropped down, blood trickling from both corners of his barred teeth, rage and hatred gleaming in his scarred eye.  His left hand supporting him on his knees.  But there was hope.  His right arm reached over to his hip.  And from his hip pulled... a handgun.  It was more beautiful than my own trusty shock pistol.  Slick and steel the gun shimmered in the light of day.  That weapon said one thing... It rang out like the bells on Manchester Cathedral.  It said... Hero.  The handgun is a Colt, isn't it?  A Colt 1911.  It's Colt's handgun.  I saw the puma smile from behind the mask.  The puma raised his machine gun, but no reply came.  It was then they both realized they were out of bullets.  Colt pulled the trigger,  the gun fired a loud reply.  And the puma went down.  His sternum was powder.  His chest was bleeding.  And Mason still secured his victory.  His crazed buddies carried their injured friend away.  They escaped with a black, unlicensed van.  I wasn't sure if I felt angry about not being able to catch them, or relieved that this firefight was finally over.  I looked over to Mason's bloody body.  He rolled over slowly.  I looked up, thinking he was dead. 

            "Christ, I feel worse than when I decided that using medicinal marijuana to cure hypnosis was a good idea.  It did not end well.  And Cooper was hilarious high."  He groaned once more before hacking up more blood.  "Sound off if you're alive."  His team all responded, despite their condition.

            "I'm up."

            "I'm up."

            "I'm fucked up... but I'm up."  Colt sighed once more before attempting to sit up.  Pain shot through him as he grasped his bleeding stomach.  I grasped his strong left arm, pulling him to his feet. 

            "Danke schörn.  Alright boys, time to wake up."  His men obeyed as they slowly stood up, trying to plug their wounds.  Just as they recovered a herd of cruisers rounded the corner. 

            "Imagine how I'm gonna explain this one to Chief Barkley."  Colt grasped his shoulder as he limped next to me. 

            "Don't worry yourself with him.  I'll cover it for you.  You've had enough day, go home, get some rest.  If Barkley wants to get his blood pressure spike for today, he'll have it yelling at me.  Besides, you've still got more than one issue on your hands.  Don't forget you're still dealing with Cooper's case."  With that, he limped off to an ambulance with the rest of his team.  I stood and thought for a minute.  Mason was right.  I am tired, and even he knew that.  I need some rest from today.