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"Admit one," the ticket read. As Ivy twirled it between her fingers, the text scrawled on the back flickered before her eyes. "Know your enemy".
It was too easy to be a real clue. The quote was from Sun Tzu and the ticket was for San Francisco's Asian Art Museum, which just so happened to be holding an exhibit featuring some of the oldest extant copies of Sun Tzu's Art of War. And the ticket had not been sent to ACME headquarters but to Ivy's home address. She'd found it in an envelope in her mailbox. Ivy had chased Carmen Sandiego through the entirety of her teen years until they'd expired and she'd become one of the elder agents on the Carmen case. She knew Carmen's M.O. and this was different.
It didn't seem to be a clue so much as... an invitation.
Her fingers stilled. She glared at the ticket, at the words there, and thought seriously about tossing it out.
An hour later she was at the Sun Tzu exhibit.
On a spring Saturday, with tourist season already in swing, it was no surprise that the exhibit hall was bustling. Under the dimmed lights, a tour group clustered around one of the manuscripts beneath its protective glass cover. On one side of the room a child was pointing to a period vase and saying "dragon" over and over again. A display of arms and armour was attracting the attention of a group of teens. No one wore scarlet and no henchmen were in sight. Nothing to suggest a crime was about to take place. Was she supposed to wait for Carmen to make her move? Or maybe search for a clue?
Ivy strolled through the exhibit, her gaze flitting between the crowds and the displays as she tried to spot anything unusual. It wasn't until she reached the far end of the gallery that, as she casually scanned the area, something caught her eye. Gloves. Someone was wearing black gloves.
Ivy's heart surged.
A woman. Black dress. Waves of black hair cascading around her shoulders. Slim, bare legs.
Ivy bit her tongue to tamp down the old instinct to shout "Carmen!" or "Hold it right there!" This wasn't a heist and she needed to be sure that really was Carmen. The guards wouldn't recognise her without the red trench coat. Once upon a time neither would Ivy, but after being duped by an out-of-costume Carmen on a case or two, Ivy had learned to better identify her opponent. She was sure.
The gloved woman cast the barest of glances over her shoulder before making her way towards the elevator at the gallery's exit. Ivy followed. The woman pressed the down button. The elevator doors opened and she stepped through.
Ivy was still several steps away when the doors began to slide shut. She cursed under her breath and made a dash for it–but then a funny thing happened. A black-gloved hand waved between the doors so that they slid back open again, just long enough for Ivy to step through them. "Going down, detective?" asked a voice like fine silk, a voice Ivy heard in her dreams as often as in her waking hours.
"Carmen! What are you–" She got no further than that before the elevator shuddered to a halt.
"There," Carmen said with a smirk every bit as familiar as her voice. "That should give us a few minutes of privacy. Oh and don't bother to try your communicator. I made sure to jam ACME's signal."
Of course Ivy did check. "Chief, can you read me? Zack? Anyone?"
"I told you, Ivy... It's just you... and me."
Ivy raised her eyes from her communicator to the woman before her and properly looked at her. It was Carmen. And yet... It was oddly disorienting to see her without her usual outfit or a disguise of some sort. A slinky black summer dress that showed off the slim curve of her hips didn't qualify as a disguise per se. Ivy's eyes lingered for a moment on the pale line of her collar bone before sliding up to find Carmen's blue eyes fixed on her in a way that made Ivy feel as transparent as the glass display cases in the gallery.
Ivy crossed her arms, ignoring the flush creeping up her cheeks. "What do you want, Carmen?"
Carmen raised an eyebrow. "If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle."
"Okay so you know your Art of War. Why am I here?"
"Because I invited you and you came," Carmen said with a tilt of her head. "I should think that would be obvious."
Ivy huffed. "But why?"
"Oh I can tell you why I invited you, but I think the far more interesting question is... why did you come?" When Ivy didn't budge, Carmen shrugged. "All right, I'll answer first. I invited you here because I think there's something you want to ask me. Isn't that right, Ivy?"
Ivy looked away, scowling. She knew where this was going. A niggling doubt that had troubled her for weeks now, ever since her last case with Zack. "Maybe."
"Then here's your opportunity to know your enemy a little better. I'll answer your question and you answer mine." She held out a gloved hand. "Do we have a deal?"
Ivy stared at that outstretched hand like it might be hiding an asp. "Thief's honour?"
"Ivy," she said reproachfully, "when have I ever gone back on my word to you?"
Jaw clenched, Ivy didn't deign to answer when she had excellent reasons to doubt. Instead she took Carmen's proffered hand and–didn't shake it so much as squeeze it even as her brain registered the strangeness of having those nimble fingers between hers. Those fingers had delicately lifted priceless works of art from their frames, displaced millennia-old artifacts from their pedestals, shifted, lifted, and filched all manner of treasures and memorabilia. And she was still holding on to them as Carmen tilted her head and peered at her with a barest hint of a sly smile.
"Ask your question, detective. We only have so much time."
Norway. Ivy's questions led her back to the lift in Norway.
***
Carmen's clues had led Zack and Ivy to Norway. They'd caught up with her at a ski resort perched on a cliff high in the Breheimen mountain range, under a sky shimmering green with the aurora borealis. But as usual she was one step ahead of them. Ivy realized it as the machinery of the resort's aerial lift grumbled to life. The lift connected the resort to the town in the snowy valley below.
Carmen stood at the far end of the loading platform. "Until next crime, detectives," she said, tipping her hat as she stepped into the lift's cabin seconds before the doors closed and the lift began to slide backwards along the thick cables suspending it above the valley.
Zack dashed towards the control room. "I'll see if I can get in there and stop the lift!" he called over his shoulder.
But Ivy was already sprinting straight towards the cabin as it slid out of the loading area. Her legs pumped. She reached the edge of the platform and pushed off, her hands closing around the side panel in a white-knuckled grip.
Ivy's legs flailed over open air. There was no purchase for her feet. The ground was still below her; there was time to reconsider this course of action. The lift was still moving horizontally along the cliff, but in a few moments it would follow the bend of the cable over the side of the precipice. If her grip failed then it would be the end of her.
Ivy gritted her teeth and held on.
A moment later the cabin doors slid open and a pair of gloved hands reached out to help pull her in. The doors closed again behind her and she collapsed on the floor panting for air, heart hammering against her ribs. When she caught her breath and looked up, she found a very smug Carmen watching her. "Dear Ivy, if you're going to fall for me I'd really prefer you do it in a less literal manner."
Ivy groaned and got to her feet. She might have said thank you if it hadn't been for the joke. Instead she opted for one of her standard ACME lines. "You're trapped, Carmen. Zack will have called the authorities. By the time we get down there a police escort will be waiting to take you away."
Carmen only smiled and appeared as unperturbed as ever.
"Well?" Ivy demanded.
"Well what, detective?"
Ivy's eyes darted around the cabin. There had to be a trick, a trap–something! "I'm waiting for your plan B." The parachute, the jetpack, the unexpected hovercraft. There was always an escape plan.
Carmen arched an eyebrow. "And if there isn't one?"
Something in Ivy's gut twisted. But that had to be the drop in altitude. It had to be. Because catching Carmen was what she'd wanted for years and how could she be anything but happy that it was about to happen again?
"Well," Carmen drawled, "since we have a few minutes before my imminent arrest, I wanted to ask... did you capture the henchmen who were up there?"
Ivy's brow furrowed. Carmen was about to be arrested and this was what she wanted to talk about? "Yeah. We got them."
"All three?"
"Yes, all three. Why?"
"Just tying up loose ends," Carmen said with a nod.
Glancing through one of the tall windows, Ivy could see the village below, closer now. They were halfway there already. Ivy's nerves jangled, but not, she realized with excitement. She should be clapping the cuffs on Carmen and congratulating herself on a job well done just like she had in the past. But instead...
"Carmen?" Ivy said, her tone urgent. "Plan B. There is a plan B, right?"
The passenger car shuddered. An awful shriek of metal scraped at Ivy's eardrums and for a split second she was certain they were about to plunge to their doom. But then the car began moving sideways. The valley below was shrouded in darkness but when she looked to the village she could see that they were suddenly moving away from it. They were no longer moving along the cables.
Tilting her head to look upwards through the top of the window she could see the blinking lights of some sort of plane above them–one of Carmen's aircrafts she supposed.
When Ivy turned back to Carmen, the thief was smiling. Ivy groaned. Of course there was a plan B. There always was. "You stole the passenger car," Ivy said flatly.
"Were you worried?" Carmen asked, clearly amused.
She pulled a walkie talkie out of her coat. The familiar accented voice of Sarah Bellum crackled out of it. "Do you read, Carmen?"
Ivy tried her own communicator but, naturally, there was no signal.
"Loud and clear. We have a stowaway, though."
There was a very loud crackle that could either have been laughter or a snort. "Your little favourite again."
Carmen's lips twitched. "Please find a safe drop-off location for our guest."
"Understood."
Ivy crossed her arms and scowled at Carmen, feeling immensely foolish. Why had she been so worried? There was always a plan. And so what if there wasn't? Besides the fact that the authorities never managed to hold Carmen for long on the few occasions she had been arrested, it was Ivy's job to catch Carmen. It had been since she'd been barely more than a kid. But then what? Zack had an answer to that question. She on the other hand kept coming up blank.
With raised eyebrows, Carmen gestured towards the benches at the back of the cabin. "Care to sit? It's been a while since we've been able to chat and this trip will take some time. Might as well enjoy the view."
A part of Ivy was tempted to stand there in sullen silence just to be contrary, but she knew when she'd been beat. And besides, the view really was spectacular. Sighing, she headed to the back of the cabin and dropped down onto the bench and let her eyes take in the shimmering curtain of light draping the night sky in an emerald sheen. The vastness of the sky and its luminous splendour was enough to loosen the tension in her shoulders and the stiffness of her spine. It wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened and Carmen had always been a good host or captor or whatever it was that you could call her in situations like these. Carmen sat down next to her, their knees touching, and for a while they watched the northern lights cascading through the darkness.
It was Carmen who spoke again, some time later. "I heard a rumour that this might be Zack's final case with ACME."
"Snooping through our systems again?" Ivy said, glancing at her.
"I never reveal my sources, detective." Carmen gave one of her enigmatic smiles. Ivy snorted. "Well," she pressed, "is it true?"
"It's true," Ivy said with a sigh. She turned her eyes back to the glittering folds of light illuminating the night sky to distract herself from the squeezing sensation around her heart. "He wants to concentrate on his dissertation." Nineteen and already working on a doctorate. Her little brother the genius.
"What topic has he chosen?"
Ivy shrugged. "Don't ask me. I can't make heads or tails of it. Quantum computing isn't exactly my field."
A laugh tinkled from Carmen's lips. "Nor mine. You must be very proud."
"Yeah," Ivy said. She blinked hard and focused on the view. She was not going to get soppy in front of Carmen.
"But?"
Ivy's lips thinned to a line. "But I'll miss him."
Every other chase would be like this. She would be looking out over something extraordinary–the northern lights, the Great Wall of China, the Grand Canyon–and Zack wouldn't be there with her. He would be in a lab somewhere or at a desk–which was probably where he belonged, whiz kid that he was. But a desk was no place for her.
Carmen's fingers came to rest on her elbow. It was strange to accept comfort from someone she'd been trying to arrest just a short time ago, but somehow knowing she still had Carmen to strive for made her feel a little better.
"What about you, Ivy? Will you leave too?"
Something about Carmen's tone made Ivy glance at her. There was no slyness in her expression now, but Ivy still couldn't quite read what lay in those blue eyes that fixed her. Unable to meet her piercing gaze any longer, Ivy let her eyes wander to the curve of Carmen's lips, the high cheekbones, the mane of black, wavy hair, the familiar scarlet collar, always turned up, and, poking out of an orange turtleneck, the pale line of her throat.
A flush crept up Ivy's cheeks and she dropped her eyes to her hands. "I don't know yet."
"Do you remember..." Carmen began slowly. "I think it was the second or third case you and Zack worked together, he chased me along the Great Wall of China on his skateboard."
Ivy laughed. "Yeah, and then he wiped out and chipped a tooth."
And somehow brisk inquiries flowed into conversation, as if she were talking to an old friend, rather than a criminal mastermind she'd been pursuing for years. Carmen's hands often brushed against Ivy's elbow or alighted upon her knee as she spoke and her smile seemed neither smug nor mocking. Carmen's eyes twinkled with merriment as Ivy described some of their most memorable mishaps. And Ivy was surprised when Carmen regaled her with a few missteps of her own, the times she had underestimated them, the times she'd been caught off-guard.
They talked until Sarah Bellum's voice crackled through the walkie talkie announcing that it was time for the stowaway to disembark. Carmen stood. "Looks like our time is up, my dear." And then, with a sly smile. "I do hope we can do this again soon."
It wasn't until much later, when she was back in San Franciso, that Ivy thought back to Carmen's earlier question about the henchmen. Why had it been so important to confirm that all three had been picked up? And what had she meant by loose ends? That thread had prompted the most in-depth research ever performed on the history of Carmen's henchmen past and present.
What she learned forever changed how she looked at Carmen's game.
***
An elevator in the Asian Art Museum was certainly a less scenic venue than an aerial lift under the aurora borealis, but, Ivy reminded herself, she wasn't here for the scenery or the exhibit. She was here for answers. Carmen watched her with perfect calm as Ivy gathered her thoughts and finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her for weeks.
"All those henchmen you recruit... how thoroughly do you vet them?"
Carmen nodded. "Very throughly. If they so much as got detention in high school I know about it."
"What if they use aliases or..."
"Ivy," Carmen said, putting her hands on her hips, "give me some credit at least. I have access to a great many sources of information and I know a thing or two about how criminals operate."
"You would," Ivy grumbled. She crossed her arms and glared at the elevator buttons, every single one dark. How long before security noticed it was stopped? The elevator likely had a surveillance camera but she supposed Carmen had taken care of that. "How closely do you monitor their assignments?"
"As you know from some of your ventures, VILE does provide training for promising operatives. But for more mundane assignments I leave those to the personnel system's AI. It's programmed to choose the appropriate henchmen based on their history and psychological profile."
Ivy let out a huff of frustration. Carmen was answering her questions, sure, but she wasn't giving away any more than she had to. If Ivy wanted the answer to the really important question she was going to have show her cards. "I noticed something about your henchmen. The ones who've worked for you the longest were people who only committed petty crimes before joining VILE, small-time stuff that never got anyone hurt." She glanced at Carmen. The thief wore a calm, expectant look that gave away nothing. "But the ones we've picked up... I ran all the arrest records since VILE began operating and cross-referenced it against criminal records."
"That sounds like the sort of thing Zack would have enjoyed more than you."
Ivy grimaced. "You have no idea."
"So?" Carmen tilted her head, one eyebrow raised. "What did you find?"
"After a lot of sorting and filtering–" She paused to shoot Carmen a withering look. "A lot. I noticed a pattern. There's a high correlation between a henchman's history of violence and how quickly he gets picked up by ACME detectives." She raised her eyes to meet Carmen's. "It's almost as if you send them on assignments where you know they'll get caught."
Carmen's lips curved into a broad smile. "Go on, detective, ask your real question."
"Are you using VILE to funnel dangerous criminals into ACME's hands?"
Carmen clapped softly, her expression jubilant. "Very good, Ivy. You uncovered my little game within the game."
Ivy shook her head. "But why?"
"You know I don't condone violence. If I get a few dangerous people to the authorities it makes it that much safer for my operations as well as yours."
"Not that." Ivy rubbed at the back of her neck. If the goal of this little meeting was to know her enemy she didn't feel like she was succeeding at all. Instead she had more questions than when she'd started. "Why are you telling me this now? The only reason I started looking into it was because of the clue you gave me on the aerial lift. About 'loose ends'. I thought at first it was a clue to your next crime but then I started investigating the henchmen and..." She looked at her again, her eyes fully visible for once, not shaded by the brim of her wide hat. Even after all these years it was next to impossible to read her. Carmen was a closed book. "Why now?"
"Because you're at a crossroads and I felt you deserved to have all the information you could before you made a decision."
It was too much–all of this was too much. And she didn't know who she could trust to sort it out. She couldn't talk to the other agents; they would never understand why she wasn't trying to slap a pair of cuffs on Carmen at this very moment. Zack might, but then she'd have to bring him up to speed on her findings and it wasn't fair to him when he was trying to focus on his own work, work that really mattered to him. He'd grown out of Carmen's games. And he often wondered why Ivy hadn't.
"You're not making this easy," Ivy murmured.
"When have you ever wanted things to be easy?"
"I guess there's a first time for everything." She hung her head and took a few long, calming breaths like she would to steady herself before a sparring match. But whatever calm she'd gathered left her when Carmen stepped close and Ivy felt fingers gently tilting her chin up.
"It's my turn to ask a question." Carmen's gaze was unflinching. Ivy's breath caught in her throat. "Why have you stayed on my case all these years?"
"Why?" Ivy repeated.
"I've followed your career, Ivy. You've applied for other positions within ACME more than once and then changed your mind. And you've been offered promotions and turned them down. You even have the distinction of having arrested me."
"I–" Ivy licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry. "I... liked the work. And I didn't want to leave Zack on his own. And it just... wouldn't be right to give up before finishing the job."
Carmen's eyebrows arched. "Before catching me? For good? That's what you want?"
"Of course it is," Ivy snapped.
Carmen considered her for a moment. "Are you certain? You've seemed less enthusiastic than usual of late. Even before I let you in on my little side game."
Ivy shook her head but she couldn't meet Carmen's eyes. "I've had a lot of my mind. With Zack and all."
"Hmm," was Carmen's only response. She stepped away, back to the elevator panel. "Just remember, detective, in order to achieve victory, you have to know your enemy and yourself."
And before Ivy could say another word, the elevator shuddered to life once again. "This is my stop," Carmen announced and the doors slid open. "We'll chat again soon." She took a single backwards step out of the elevator before the doors slid shut again. They stayed that way for several minutes before the elevator began moving normally again and Ivy could finally leave. By then Carmen was long gone.
It was only a few days later that the second invitation arrived. An invitation to a place Ivy wasn't keen to revisit.
#
The moon was rising over the slopes of Mount Parnassus when Ivy made her way through Delphi's ruins. Carmen's note had given her a date and time–so definitely an invitation, not a clue. And Carmen's message had made the location easy enough to figure out. "Know thyself," the famous maxim of the Oracle of Delphi.
The site was eerily still at this hour when the hordes of tourists had retired for the day. It reminded Ivy far too much of the last time she'd been here, the night Lee Jordan had defected from ACME. Just thinking of Lee still made her blood boil. It was one thing to be a turncoat, but Lee had shown himself to be a very different brand of criminal than Carmen. He was no more than a violent thug who needed to stay behind bars.
Ivy approached the handful of stone columns that were all that remained of the Temple of Apollo where people would have gone to hear the oracle's prophecies. Ivy wasn't the least bit surprised when a figure stepped out from behind one of the columns. She was in full Carmen regalia tonight, with her usual scarlet trench coat and wide-brimmed hat. And, in spite of herself, Ivy found herself smiling.
Carmen tipped her hat. "Good evening, detective."
Ivy kept walking, curious to see how close she could get. On a normal case she wouldn't be walking but running and Carmen would be waiting for the perfect moment to bolt. She halted within easy reach of her. If she'd wanted to, she could have lunged at Carmen and tried to wrestle her into a pair of cuffs.
"So tell me, Ivy, did you come tonight to arrest me?"
Crossing her arms, Ivy heaved a sigh. "You know I can't. Not after finding out about your henchmen. How am I supposed to arrest you when I know your being behind bars would actually make the world a worse place?" She shook her head. "You've put me in an awful position."
"There are alternatives, Ivy."
Ivy snorted. "Oh great. Is this where you give me the same pitch about joining VILE that you gave Lee?"
The name made Carmen's nose wrinkle. "He didn't need convincing. He asked to join me. And no," she said, raising a hand to forestall further comment, "you needn't remind me what a mistake that was. But you, on the other hand, have principles."
"Which is exactly why I'm not going to become your little protégé."
Carmen's lips twitched. "I was thinking more along the lines of partner. You've more than proven yourself over the years." She spread her hands as if offering Ivy the whole world, and her voice was as soft and supple as her leather gloves. "Just think of the feats we could pull off together. The things we could accomplish if we worked side by side."
Crossing her arms, Ivy gave Carmen a skeptical look. "The criminal feats. The illegal things."
"A life of the mind and of action, Ivy. To constantly seek new challenges. To dare things no one else has had the audacity to attempt." She seemed to hesitate for a moment. And then, softly, "And the company of someone who truly respects and cares for you, who considers you an equal." She held out one gloved hand. "That's what I'm offering you."
Ivy squeezed her eyes shut. It was as if those words had plucked at a string tied taut somewhere deep inside her and rung a note. A note that reverberated through her from head to toe. It was too much. And it struck too close to home.
Spinning on her heel, Ivy regarded the pale shapes of the Grecian columns, half toppled and reconstructed by archeologists to give people some idea of the great stone buildings that had stood here thousands of years ago. People had come here to learn the future, to find answers. All Ivy found were more questions, more doubts. Carmen had made doubt into an art form; nothing was ever certain in her presence.
She hugged her arms, shaking her head. "It broke the Chief's heart when you left. I couldn't do that to him. And Zack. And my family. I'd never be able to see any of them again if I suddenly dropped everything to be a criminal mastermind."
"You're right, I suppose. Family is one thing I never had to sacrifice."
Ivy turned in time to see the shadow of grief flit over Carmen's features. "I'm sorry," Ivy whispered. "Did you ever find out for certain whether Avalon is you father?" Carmen shook her head. "A paternity test would settle it once and for all, wouldn't it?"
"And then what if he really is my father? Eventually someone would find out and use him as leverage against me just like Lee did." She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. "No, it's better for him if I keep my distance. I won't endanger him again."
"But..."
"If you were at my side I could at least keep you safe."
Ivy couldn't help but flash a grin. "I'm pretty good at keeping myself safe."
"True," Carmen said with a nod. "And a good thing. If nothing else, you and Zack are still my legal–or illegal–successors."
The reminder made Ivy queasy. All those years ago when Carmen had faked her death to determine a successor, Ivy had been sad. Now it would be so much worse. It would be like losing a close friend, or a family member. It would be devastating.
"Should anything happen to me, my entire enterprise goes to you."
"I don't want your criminal empire, Carmen," Ivy spat.
Carmen tilted her head, looking amused. "But you could return everything I've ever stolen. Your could disband VILE, use all the funds I've acquired for whatever goodwill endeavour you see fit. You could–"
"I don't want any of that! And I don't want talk about something happening to you."
Ivy froze as Carmen's gloved fingers brushed over the back of her hand.
"It's good to know you still care."
"Of course I care," Ivy said, voice gravelly. Ivy's heart hammered against her ribs. In the moonlight Carmen looked almost otherworldly, the lines of her face made sharper, her eyes half-shrouded by her hat, her mane of dark hair like a crown. She could've been one of the Greek goddesses–Athena maybe, come to counsel her favourite hero with a wily plan. Of course Athena was strictly off-limits, untouchable, and Carmen should have been too but... That had changed somehow.
If Ivy took one step closer she could tangle her fingers in that dark hair, run her thumbs along the lines of those delicate cheekbones, press her mouth to those full lips. But she would have to admit that she wanted that. That in spite of her principles and Carmen's past and all their history together, Ivy still wanted her.
Ivy took one step back.
Carmen dipped her head for a few seconds, the brim of her hat veiling her face. "Well, detective, regardless of whether I get it, I know what I want. Have you figured out what it is you want?"
Sighing, Ivy shook her head and looked away. She couldn't join Carmen, but she also couldn't keep chasing her when she didn't want to arrest her. But the thought of leaving ACME and never seeing Carmen again was almost as painful as the thought of Carmen behind bars.
When Ivy looked back, Carmen was gone.
#
It was a relief when Zack's grinning face appeared on her laptop screen. His chin was a mess of blond stubble and his mop of hair definitely needed a trim, but somehow it just gave him the air of scruffy Labrador puppy. "Hey, sis! Good to see you."
Her face split into a grin of her own. "Hey, little bro." He'd been holed up in his grad student office at MIT so much the past few weeks that she'd barely spoken to him and she missed him fiercely. It was true that for all his brains he could still be a brat, but she knew that he would always, always have her back. No agenda, no ulterior motives.
"Okay so tell me what's so top secret that you needed to talk to me over a secure non-ACME connection?"
Ivy took a deep breath. "It's about Carmen."
Zack threw up his hands, palms out. "Wait! Hold it right there. I'm off that case. I've got formulas coming out of my ears, sis. I don't have time to play games and decode clues anymore."
"It's not about a clue," Ivy said shaking her head. "I just... need to talk this through with someone."
"Talk what through?"
"I saw Carmen the other day and... well she asked to me join her."
That resulted in a guffaw crackling through her laptop speakers. She scowled at the screen as Zack shook with laughter. "You finally got the VILE pitch, huh? Did you ask if they have a dental plan?"
"Zack," Ivy groaned. He was still laughing.
"I know you've been looking at other career options, Ivy, but I never thought henchman was up your alley."
"It was less henchman and more partner."
Zack's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, you're sure moving up in the world. So did you slap the cuffs on her before or after you turned her down?" He leaned closer to the screen then, brow furrowed. "You did turn her down, right? You're not calling me because I'm going to see your name on CrimeNet, are you?"
Ivy huffed. "Of course I turned her down. But I think she was offering... more than that."
"Oh was there a retirement plan? Maybe a benefits package too?" Ivy felt herself blushing and hoped that it wouldn't be obvious through the laptop screen. Her hopes were dashed when Zack broke off and peered at her. "Ivy?"
"Yes?"
"Are you blushing?"
"No."
He pointed at the screen. "You so are." He started to laugh again. "So it wasn't so much a benefits package as partners with benefits?"
Groaning, Ivy buried her face in her hands. "You're making this sound so much worse than it was."
Zack's whole face was lit up like he'd just gotten a shiny new computer gadget. He was having way too much fun at her expense. "Man, Carmen has some nerve–trying to date my sister and not even clearing it with me first."
Ivy huffed. "I do not need your clearance on who I date, little bro."
"Okay look," he said, leaning towards the screen again, "I know I said I would totally support you when you said you wanted to date girls, but I thought you meant... you know... Nice girls. Who don't have criminal records." He rubbed stubble on his chin. "Like Vanessa in HR."
Ivy rolled her eyes. "Vanessa isn't gay."
His face scrunched up like he was puzzling out a particularly tricky Carmen clue. "What? But that one time I asked her out she said she didn't date boys."
"She meant she didn't date kids, Zack." She crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. "You were barely seventeen and she was over twenty."
"Yeah but–"
"Can we get back on topic here?" Ivy asked.
"You mean about how you're allowed to date older women and I'm not?"
"I'm being serious here," Ivy said throwing up her hands. Obviously she'd caught Zack in full on brat mode and probably hyped up on energy drinks to boot. How did his professors deal with this?
"Yeah and that's exactly what worries me. Look I know you and Carmen have been all buddy buddy the past couple of years–"
"Buddy buddy?" Ivy repeated incredulously.
He tilted his head and peered at her. "You know what I mean. These days you're way more interested in catching up to her than catching her. And she keeps going out of her way to corner you and chat–or," he said waggling his eyebrows, "whatever it is you've been doing."
"Zack!"
He just grinned back at her.
Heaving a sigh, Ivy leaned back in her chair. She intertwined her fingers behind her head and tried to clear her thoughts. It was crazy. Zack had said as much. She knew it was and yet... Carmen had a way of seeding doubt into all things. What seemed clear in the moonlight ruins of ancient temples was cast in shadow here in the blue-light glow of a laptop screen. Ivy couldn't be sure what her own feelings were, much less Carmen's. "I just... care about her, Zack. And I can't imagine leaving ACME and just... never seeing her again." She straightened. And started pulling up files on her laptop. "Can you set up a secure upload for me? I need you to look at some files."
He did and she sent over the research she'd done on Carmen's henchmen. He looked suitably impressed–while also managing to be exasperating by pointing out that he could've written a script that would've cut down her research time by at least half. She explained everything she'd learned and how it was Carmen herself who'd tipped her off in the first place.
"I really need your help with this, Zack. I need to know if she's playing me."
He huffed. "It's Carmen–of course she's playing you. She plays everyone all the time. It's her M.O."
"That's why I need your help." She held up a fist-sized globe in the palm of her hand. After she'd turned down Carmen's offer at Dephi, Ivy had thought it would be the last she'd hear from her, but instead she'd received another invitation. "I know where Carmen is going to be next."
#
Ivy had had to use her ACME credentials to get late-night access to London's Globe theatre. Carmen's third invitation had come in the form of a globe with a date and a line from Hamlet: To thine own self be true. Easy enough to figure out when a faithful recreation of Shakespeare's original Globe Theatre had recently been built along the banks of the Thames. The theatre owners hadn't been pleased, but the threat of Carmen Sandiego was enough to get them to send over one of the property managers with a key.
The theatre was like a small arena–circular, with three stories of covered seating around the curving walls, but with the central area around the stage open to the sky. The smell of timber and rain from an evening drizzle wafted to her nostrils. She advanced towards the stage and then turned to survey the seating galleries. And there was Carmen, perched on the railing in the centre of the third storey gallery, bare legs crossed. "Hello, detective," she called when Ivy spotted her.
Ivy's heart just about bounded into her throat and she couldn't have said whether it was nerves or excitement. Chasing Carmen had always vacillated between nerve-wracking and exciting but this was different. It wasn't her life she was risking this time.
She stared up for a moment. "I hope you don't expect me to climb up there like Romeo."
"That would be amusing," Carmen said, "but I won't begrudge you the use of the stairs this time."
Ivy took the stairs.
When Ivy reached the third storey gallery, Carmen had taken a seat on one of the wooden benches in the front row. For a moment Ivy hesitated, but then she drew in a deep breath and joined Carmen on the bench, shoulder to shoulder. "You know," Ivy said, "the Chief's been wondering where you've been these past few weeks."
"And what did you tell him? Not the truth, I suppose."
Ivy's nose wrinkled. "'Oh hey, Chief, I saw Carmen just the other day. She asked me to join VILE and I went ahead and let her go anyway.'" She shot Carmen an incredulous look. "I don't think that would've gone over well."
"So what did you tell him?"
"That you were probably nursing a cold and didn't want to be seen in public with a runny nose."
Carmen snorted in obvious affront. "And of course he bought that."
"Lock stock and barrel. We all know how much you care about your image, Carmen."
"When you're trying to make an impression, image is half the battle."
Ivy glanced at her. "Well you definitely make an impression. No one's going to argue with that."
"I suppose the real question is... do I make the intended impression." Carmen turned then and looked directly at her. "Ivy, why did you come?"
"What do you mean?"
"You keep accepting my invitations. And if we've established that you're not going to arrest me then I have to wonder why you're here."
Ivy tried to steady her breathing. Slow, deep breaths, just like she'd learned in martial arts classes. But those classes hadn't really prepared her for bearing the full brunt of Carmen's gaze. "I guess I just... wanted to see you."
"Have you come to a decision about your future?"
"I think so." Still meeting Carmen's eye, Ivy reached out and snagged her wrist. She could feel Carmen's pulse racing beneath her fingertips. It was too late to reconsider her plan. She had promised Zack she would see this through to the end–and she would. "But there's something I need to do first."
Ivy snapped the cuffs around Carmen's wrists with such practiced speed that Carmen had no time at all to react.
Carmen gasped, her eyes going wide. "Ivy!"
Ivy tapped a button on her communicator. "Now!"
Sirens wailed all around them. And then the chop-chop-chop of helicopter blades accompanied by a wobbly spotlight scanning the ground-level gallery.
"This?" Carmen said, raising her shackled wrists. "This is what you decided you want?" Fury flashed across her face, warring with shock and hurt. Ivy could see every feeling flit across Carmen's normally guarded features.
"Carmen Sandiego," boomed a voice from above with a distinctly British accent, "we have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up." All the while, Ivy's eyes remained fixed on Carmen.
Carmen had gone deathly pale. Her gaze swept the area below and then the open skies before returning to Ivy. "Ivy, don't do this."
"Enough with the act," Ivy snarled. "Any second you'll switch to plan B and take off."
"There's no plan B this time." Her tone sounded urgent.
Ivy clasped the chain between the cuffs in a white-knuckled grip and jerked Carmen towards her. "You really want me to believe you'd let me get this close without having an escape plan?"
"Yes," Carmen said, "because I trusted you." Ivy didn't answer.
She kept her gaze locked on Carmen's face. The booming voice repeated its message. The sound of helicopter blades cut through the air, louder now.
"Ivy, this can't be how you want this to end. You've caught me before, through deduction and pursuit. Not... like this." Carmen was a good actor–Ivy had seen her play some remarkable roles over the years–but she was certain Carmen couldn't fake the pained look she wore now. Like she'd been betrayed by her dearest ally, her closest friend.
"You're right," Ivy whispered. And then she pressed the button on her communicator again and all the sound an fury fell away. The lights, the voices, the helicopters–all gone.
Carmen's eyes swept the room and then she turned to face Ivy again. "A trick?"
Dropping her gaze, Ivy nodded. "I had Zack rig up some speakers and spotlights." She looked up again. Carmen's features were unreadable. "I'm sorry, Carmen. I needed to be sure you weren't just playing games with me."
Carmen held Ivy's gaze. "Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love."
"More Hamlet?" Ivy said. "You know it's a tragedy, right?"
"The fact isn't lost on me."
Ivy fished the key out of her pocket, fumbling as she tried to fit it into the lock on the cuffs. Her fingers were trembling. "Maybe you should pick a happier play next time." She managed to get the first cuff off, but her heart was pounding and her hands were proving to be awful traitors. "Isn't Much Ado About Nothing about two people who start off as enemies and end up–"
The key clattered to the floor. She cursed, and bent to try to retrieve it but froze as Carmen spoke her name. "Ivy."
Ivy looked up at Carmen. She licked her lips; her mouth felt suddenly dry. "I did make a decision," Ivy said, her voice barely more than a whisper. And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Carmen's.
Even though turnabout was fair play and surely Carmen couldn't begrudge her one trick after the many Ivy had endured, Ivy had still been afraid Carmen would push her away. Instead, she pulled Ivy closer.
Ivy had tackled Carmen before, wrestled her to the ground even, and in those tussles Carmen was all taut muscle and hard lines. But pressed close against her now, everything about her seemed to relax. Her mouth, her hands, her limbs–she was all warmth and softness. And Ivy wanted to drink it all in, melt into her until the circle of those arms around her and the velvety touch of her mouth became her whole world.
"Detective?"
They broke apart as a voice rang out from somewhere below.
"It's the property manager," Ivy whispered. "He's the one who let me in." Carmen was already looking around, calculating the most likely escape route, but the manager's footsteps were closer. "Take off your coat," Ivy hissed. "And the hat."
Carmen didn't argue. She removed both, struggling to pull the coat over the cuff that still remained on her right wrist. Ivy cast about for the key but she couldn't see in it in the dim light.
"Detective? Are you almost done in here?"
"No time," Carmen said. Ivy grabbed the scarlet coat and draped it over Carmen's arm, covering the cuff. Her eyes darted down to Carmen's bare legs. Beneath the coat she was wearing not much more than her usual orange turtleneck... and an absurdly short black skirt. Raising one eyebrow, Carmen carefully adjusted the coat so that she was holding it in front of her legs.
Ivy leaned over the railing, waving Carmen's hat. "Up here," she called to the manager.
He stopped in the middle of the ground floor gallery and peered up at them. "You found something?"
"Carmen's definitely been here. My partner found her coat and hat up here."
"Your partner? When did she–"
"We think she left them as a clue to her next heist," Carmen chimed in. "Which means the theatre itself isn't the target."
The manager slumped visibly. "Oh thank God. That's excellent news, detectives. Is there anything else you need then?"
Ivy shook her head. "No, we're ready to go now."
She glanced at Carmen and together they made their way down the stairs and back through the theatre lobby. Carmen kept the coat carefully positioned the whole time even as they stepped out the door and emerged out on the London street under the glow of the streetlamps and a fresh bout of drizzle. Across the Thames, the dome of Saint Paul glowed like a beacon.
Ivy sagged with relief. She shook her head as she glanced down again at Carmen's barely-concealed limbs. "You really couldn't have chosen something more practical?
Carmen flashed a wicked grin and tipped one pale leg out of cover. "If you've got it, flaunt it, detective."
Ivy shook her head. But then, glancing around, "You should go. Before the police really do show up."
Carmen raised her wrist and dangled the cuff. "Looks I have a souvenir to mark the occasion."
"Sorry," Ivy said and she could feel herself blushing though she wasn't sure if it was due to her clumsiness with the key or to the "occasion".
"Don't be," Carmen whispered and then swooped in to steal a kiss.
Her lips lingered longer than was wise and Ivy drew back. "Go!" she said and gave Carmen a little push.
"I'll see you soon." She was smiling even as she darted down a shadowy sidestreet and vanished into the night.
Ivy wondered how long it would take Carmen to notice the note she'd slipped into the pocket of her coat.
#
Even though she'd been expecting her, Ivy was startled when Carmen appeared at her elbow, so silently that she might have materialized right there in the gardens. She sported black denim pants and a black t-shirt–not a speck of red on her except for her lipstick. With sunglasses and her hair tied back, no one would have suspected her of being anything more than a very pretty tourist. A camera dangling around her neck completed the deception.
"If you tell someone exactly where you're going to be at a precise time and date you shouldn't be surprised when they show up," Carmen said, her lips curved in one of her old sly smiles.
Ivy turned to glance at her and found herself smiling in return. "Are you disappointed you didn't get to decode a clue instead?"
She slipped off her sunglasses. "Disappointed to see you? Never. Though... the location did have excellent potential for a riddle." Her hand arced around, indicating the sprawling flowerbeds around them and the paths that wound in and out of sculpted foliage. "Maybe something like 'Travel to Vancouver and meet me at the isle's heart'." It was an easy flight from San Francisco to Vancouver Island where the fifty-five acre Butchart Gardens were located–an important factor for Ivy when she was trying to avoid using the C5 corridor.
"No games, no tricks today. I wanted to be able to talk somewhere without security cameras. And," she added archly, "where you wouldn't be tempted to pilfer anything."
Another sly smile as Carmen leaned close enough to whisper in her ear, her breath hot against Ivy's skin. "The only temptation here today... is you, Ivy."
Ivy could feel the blood running into her cheeks. That must have been the intended effect because Carmen chuckled as she drew away. Ivy cleared her throat. "Let's walk. I have some ideas I want to run past you."
The gardens were in full bloom, awash in a riot of colour. Golden brown-eyed-Susans mingled with spurts of lavender and clumps of orange zinnias so that Ivy felt as if she'd been swallowed by a Monet canvas. It was strange in the midst of all this riotous colour to be next to such a sedate version of Carmen. Even her hands were bare of her usual gloves–a fact Ivy became keenly aware of when, as they ambled along a winding stone path, Carmen's fingers brushed against her own.
Ivy's nerves jangled and her stomach was tying itself in knots but finally she let out a long breath and began the speech she'd rehearsed. "I've decided what I'm going to be doing from here on out. You know the Art and Artifact Recovery Unit, don't you?"
Carmen tilted her head. "Of course. I used to work in it but..."
"It's gotten a bit dusty since all our best agents have been chasing you around the globe. There are more open case files than agents to work on them."
"It's dangerous work, Ivy. Stolen art isn't easy to sell so it usually ends up in the hands of very unpleasant sorts of people–cartels, gangs, smugglers. The sorts of people I'm happy to avoid and to keep ACME agents away from."
Ivy nodded. "I know."
They turned onto a path lined with pink and scarlet geraniums and magnolia bushes. At every turn, Carmen's eyes scanned their surroundings. Any onlooker would think she was taking in the beauty of the scene–and perhaps she was, but Ivy knew she was also looking for possible enemies and escape routes.
Ivy continued her speech. "ACME's authority extends almost all over the globe so they're ideal for investigating international crime rings. And there's been a recent increase in artifacts being smuggled out of the Middle East and North Africa."
Artifacts pillaged from archaeological sites or looted from museums during periods of civil disorder were much easier to sell than Rembrandts and Picassos. It was simple enough to claim they'd been acquired through legitimate means even while countries were being bled of their cultural heritage. Honest collectors and even museums sometimes unwittingly ended up purchasing such items.
"I'd have a pretty long leash. I wouldn't be based at HQ the way I am now. There's definitely research involved but mostly boots on the ground detective work. I'd have to travel a lot," Ivy continued, shooting Carmen a sideways glance. She could almost see the gears turning in her mind. "Probably to some remote areas too. But languages aren't my specialty so I'd also need to work with an interpreter. Someone who wouldn't be afraid to wade into risky territory, who knows the ins and outs of the black market."
Carmen stopped abruptly and turned to look at Ivy, a bemused expression on her face. "You sound like you're looking for a new partner."
"I was thinking more of a... consultant. Someone who could do unofficial work. Do you know anyone who fits the description?"
Carmen's eyes danced with barely-suppressed mirth. "You do know how to surprise me, my dear." She rested a hand on the small of Ivy's back and ushered her along another a path towards the rose gardens. "This wasn't a scenario I'd considered."
"I know it's been a while since your Indiana Jones days, but I thought maybe... if you could fit some time into your busy thieving schedule..."
Carmen steepled her fingers, a smile tugging at her lips. "I expect I'll need to scale back on that front. With you and Zack off my case I can't expect ACME to keep up with my usual pace. My schedule may be much more open than it once was."
Arches, laden with climbing roses transformed the path into a fragrant corridor of crimson, magenta, and pale pink. As they walked beneath their shade, Ivy felt Carmen's fingers brush against her arm. It was still strange to be so close to her–close enough to touch her–without her trying to escape.
"I must admit," Carmen said, her lips slowly curving into an ever-widening smile, "there's something delightful about the idea of working right under the Chief's nose without his even knowing it." She glanced at Ivy again. "But aren't you worried about being charged with harbouring a fugitive?"
"You're pretty good at going incognito when you need to. And if anyone asked, you'd be working under my custody as an ACME agent. After all," she said with a mischievous smile, "they say it takes a thief to catch a thief."
Carmen raised an eyebrow. "Not just any thief."
"No," Ivy said with a smile, "definitely not just any thief."
"Well, Ivy, I've certainly enjoyed the rare opportunities we've had in the past to work together. And I certainly wouldn't object to the chance to work with you... more closely," she added, her voice going velvety even as she pressed herself against Ivy's side.
Ivy stepped off the main path, pausing under a trellis laden with roses that familiar shade of Carmen Sandiego scarlet. Carmen followed suit and waited as Ivy drew in a deep breath before she spoke. "I don't agree with everything you do, but I think the world would be a worse place without you in it. And–well–so would my life." She held out her hand. "A chance to face danger and do some good while you're at it–all without tarnishing your image as a criminal mastermind," she said with a grin. And then, her tone growing serious as she met Carmen's blue eyes, "And the company of someone who cares for and respects you. That's what I'm offering."
Carmen took her hand, clasping it in both of hers.
A wave of giddy happiness spilled through Ivy's chest, filling her with warmth and leaving her with a skidding heartbeat and a silly grin on her face. She reached up and pulled Carmen's mouth down to hers, kissing her right there beneath the scarlet roses.
When she drew back, Carmen was smiling, her eyes shining, her face flushed. She looked happier than Ivy had ever seen her, with not a hint of slyness in her features. "Dear Ivy," she whispered, holding Ivy's face in her hands, her palms soft against Ivy's cheeks. For a minute they stood there amid the scarlet roses, gazes locked on each other. But then Carmen's lips quirked into a hint of her usual roguish smile. "I think this is going to be a great deal of fun."
Ivy grinned in return. "I don't doubt it."
The End