Morals and Quandaries

Chapter 9

As the gang continued to drive south, hoping to at least have some breathing room if not entirely lose Anton, the van was completely silent, as no one could really say anything after the experience they just went through.

Sly was staring into space, as the amount of blood that he lost from his busted nose was starting to make him feel lightheaded.

Bentley, meanwhile, was trying his best to keep himself together. However, the fact that he came so close to ending up six feet under was starting to wear on him. He had his arms wrapped around his body, rocking back and forth in his chair.

As for Murray, he was busy trying to concentrate on driving, but their encounter with Anton was still in the back of his mind.

Suddenly, Bentley spoke up, and he voiced what both Sly and Murray were thinking.

"We can't keep doing this. He's going to get us eventually."

Sly looked at Bentley sitting next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the turtle.

"Don't worry about it, Bentley. We'll find a way to get rid of him."

"But, this guy's a monster! He survived a fifteen car pileup! And did you see when he had Murray in that chokehold? He didn't move a muscle, and Murray's no slouch in the strength department."

In his mind, Sly couldn't help but agree with Bentley's points, but he knew that saying it out loud would only freak the turtle out, so he tried his best to play Devil's Advocate.

"But what if those two examples were just luck? There's always a possibility that someone could survive an event like that. That doesn't mean that Anton's a freak of nature. And what if Murray was just caught off guard?"

"Those are both good points, Sly, but the odds that those two things happen are pretty slim, especially considering I specifically told Murray multiple times before the heist to be on his guard. Isn't that right, Murray?"

Murray glared at Bentley through the rear-view mirror for being reminded of that, but he nodded.

Sly face palmed, wincing as his hand came into contact with his nose. After quietly swearing, he sighed, turning towards Bentley.

"Alright, I see your point. If you have any ideas for how we can get Anton off of our backs for good, I'm all ears."

Bentley didn't even need to think, as he already realized that with the sheer strength and drive to eliminate the three of them that Anton had, there was only one course of action the turtle could think of.

As Sly looked at Bentley, wondering what kind of plan he would cook up, Bentley slowly raised one of his hands, forming a fist with his thumb pointing out, and drew it across his neck.

Sly immediately knew what Bentley was thinking, and he slowly shook his head.

"No. No, I am not doing that. No way."

"Come on, Sly. It's the only way! You've seen what Anton's capable of. That guy's psychotic!"

"I realize that! The only reason I won't kill him is because I can't. Ever since my parents died, my moral code prevents me from ever resorting to murder to steal. I never want to have to go through that kind of pain again."

Bentley opened his mouth to argue, but he knew that he probably wasn't going to change Sly's mind, so he decided to leave the subject alone for now.

"Alright, I'm not going to force you to do it if you don't want to, Sly. But keep that in mind if things start to go south, and believe me, I'm getting the feeling that it might."

The van fell silent once again, as Sly sat back in his seat. However, in the back of his mind, he began wondering if he would even be able to pull something as brazen off as murder, even if it means life or death for the three of them.


A little while later, the gang was still on the road, and still not talking very much.

By this point, Sly's nosebleed was starting to dry up, but there was still some blood coming down his face and dripping on to his shirt. He was also starting to get a little pale as well. He turned towards Bentley, reaching out his hand.

"Hey, do you have a tissue or anything?"

Bentley looked over and jumped when he saw Sly's condition.

"Jeez Sly, why didn't you tell me about this? We need to get you to a doctor, and quick!"

Bentley quickly wheeled himself over to where Sly was sitting and examined him.

"Anton must have really did a number on you with that gun. I'm surprised that your nose isn't broken!"

Sly didn't answer, so Bentley took it as a sign that something must be wrong. He turned towards Murray, a worried look on his face.

"Hey Murray, do you see any where we can turn off that has a hospital or doctor somewhere?"

Murray began looking around the road, looking for any signs that would tell where they are. Eventually, they passed by a sign that had just what they were looking for.

"Yeah, there's one two miles ahead!"

"That's good. Go ahead and take that exit. We're gonna need to find a hospital quick before Sly passes out."

Murray nodded and pushed the gas pedal harder, picking up some speed.


Finally, Murray took the exit off of the highway, and the gang began looking around the area, hoping to find any sign of a hospital.

As Bentley was busy keeping an eye on Sly's condition, he turned towards Murray.

"Hey Murray, did that one sign you saw tell us where we are?"

Murray paused, the contents of the sign being the last thing on his mind.

"You know what? I don't remember."

Bentley sighed, hoping that they would at least have some idea of where they were.

"Alright, I guess we'll probably be able to figure it out eventually."

Thankfully, that time came pretty quick, as Murray managed to find what he believed to be a hospital. He slowed down and pointed the building out to Bentley.

"Do you think that's probably a hospital?"

Bentley craned his neck to look out of the window and see the building. In his mind, he wasn't completely sure that it was what they were looking for, but there was a pretty good chance that it had something that could help them out.

"Seems like it to me. Pull in there and we'll take a look inside."

Murray did as he was told and pulled the van into the parking lot. However, when he shut the engine off, a thought suddenly popped into Bentley's head.

"Hey Murray, shouldn't we probably cover up all of the logos and stuff on the van? I just realized that we kind of stick out like a sore thumb with how much we've been driving around."

Murray wasn't too thrilled about all of his work on the van being covered up, but he could see Bentley's point. Reluctantly, he sighed, nodding in agreement.

"Hey, come on, Murray. Once this whole business with Anton is done, we'll repaint the van to look just like it does now."

"Alright, Bentley. Let's worry about getting Sly fixed up and finding a new safe house. Then we'll deal with the van."

"Agreed."

Bentley then looked back at Sly and realized that he couldn't just bring him in the way he was dressed now. They may be on the run, but they're still international criminals.

Thinking quickly, he wheeled himself over to where their bag of disguises and pulled out the same disguises that they wore to the motel not long after leaving Paris.

"Unfortunately, these are the only disguises we have in the bag, so they're probably going to be a little on the dirty side. But I guess we'll have to deal with it, considering we don't have access to a washing machine."

Bentley beckoned for Murray to come over and help get Sly into his disguise, but the thief grabbed the clothes himself and put them on. Admittedly, the way he put them on made him look slightly disheveled, but it did work out pretty well.

"You think you'll be okay walking in to the hospital on your own, or do you want a hand from us?" Bentley asked Sly, a worried look on his face.

"I'll be good." said Sly, although his expression said otherwise.

The raccoon stood up and attempted to begin walking, but he stumbled shortly after, catching himself on the side of the van. Murray stepped forward to help him out, but Sly shook his head, wanting to do this himself.


Thankfully, Sly and the gang managed to get into the hospital just fine, and Sly was able to get his nose fixed without any real issue.

However, when it came to the payment, that's when things got a little dicey.

"A thousand euros? Where are we going to find that kind of money?" asked Bentley.

"Well, at least we know where we are now. The people in Italy are pretty nice, at least from who we met so far."

The gang began brainstorming, trying to figure out a way to pay the hospital bill, when Sly suddenly had an idea. However, once his face lit up, Bentley was there to bring him back down.

"No Sly, you're not going to pull out your 'Italian accent' again. We don't need any more people thinking we're crazy."

Although Sly was still a little weak from the blood loss, he still pretended to be hurt.

"Come on, Bentley. My accent can't be that bad."

He paused as he looked at Bentley, who gave the thief an unimpressed look. Sly cleared his throat before continuing on.

"Besides, that wasn't what my idea was anyway. If you can get me a chance to slip away without anyone noticing, I can pick a few wallets, and we'll have our payment, just like that."

Bentley was initially reluctant to let him go, considering he was only just getting the color back in his face, but Sly's body language convinced him to give the raccoon a shot.

Bentley looked over at Murray, and the two of them nodded, making their way over to where most of the people were, and they began making a commotion, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

As the orderlies attempted to get through the large crowd that had gathered around the turtle and hippo, Sly snuck his way around the group and began lifting wallets, grabbing as much money as he could, returning the wallets to their owners once they were empty. Thankfully, none of them noticed, as their focus was on what was happening in front of them.

Eventually, Sly managed to grab enough money, and he signaled to Bentley and Murray, who by that point were being led out of the hospital by some of the orderlies.

Sly quickly made his way back to where the receptionist's desk was and left the thousand euros on the table, quickly escaping before anyone noticed.

When Sly returned to the van, he gave Bentley and Murray questioning looks.

"I definitely didn't expect you guys to go that far to get attention. Good job."

"Well, we were kind of put on the spot, Sly. It was the first thing that came to my mind." said Bentley.

"Yeah, and he wouldn't tell me what he had planned, so I had to do something myself." said Murray.

Sly smiled.

"Well, at least we got out of there without a hitch. Come on, let's go find us a safe house. I really need to stretch my legs."

He then looked over at Bentley and realized that was probably the wrong thing to say.

"Oh, sorry about that, Bent."

Bentley gave him a small glare, but he chose to let that comment go.

"It's alright, Sly. I think we're all probably kind of tired at this point."

As Sly leaned back in his chair, satisfied that he managed to avoid offending Bentley, Murray pulled out of their parking space, and they set off into the bowels of Italy, hoping to find a place where they could hide out.


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