Who in the World Is Carmen Sandiego?

by Rebecca Tinker

  The ground beneath my feet rumbled once more, but this was not a tremor made by the digging machines. A pile of dirt began to rise up from the bottom of the dig site, and a large hole opened up in the middle of it. Nearby workers scrambled to get away as a figure slowly rose up from the hole in the ground. El Topo!

  I had seen enough. I raced down toward the dig site, leaping through the construction and into the pit. El Topo brushed dirt off his face. As he saw me, he blinked a few times, finally realizing who was standing in front of him.

  “Black Sheep? But I thought you did not graduate.”

  “Surprise!”

  Pale-blue light danced across my eyes. I breathed in sharply at the sight of a gigantic blue gem cradled in his hands.

  “It’s amazing . . .” I said. And it was. The Eye of Vishnu was the most dazzling thing I had ever seen. None of the jewels I had seen in Countess Cleo’s classroom compared to this. It was a massive gem, the size of a football, and its surface was perfectly cut and shaped. Even though it had been buried underground for centuries, there did not appear to be a single scratch on it. It was a beautiful robin’s-egg blue that sparkled in the moonlight.

  “Black Sheep!” Gray’s voice interrupted my trance. “Stay away! You’ll ruin the mission!” He was running toward me, fast. There was a fury in his eyes that I had never seen before.

  Before I could say anything, I saw the archaeologist coming toward us. He caught sight of the gem in El Topo’s hands and stopped in his tracks. He looked from the gem to me, then back again. “You are with them?”

  “It’s complicated.” I felt more confused than ever.

  The archaeologist started walking toward El Topo. “Stop! Thieves!” he yelled as he pointed to the Eye of Vishnu.

  El Topo leaned in toward Gray. “Crackle, remember what they said . . . leave no witnesses.”

  Gray nodded. I frantically tried to block his path. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘leave no witnesses’? Gray?”

  El Topo dove back into the tunnel with the Eye of Vishnu in his hands. A shower of dirt rained down over me as he dug underground.

  I was gripped by a growing feeling of horror as Gray looked at me with an apologetic expression. He took out the crackle rod that Bellum had made, the one that she had shown us that first day of class all those months ago. He switched it on, then turned the dial up to full power. The crackle rod buzzed and hummed as a dangerous amount of electricity began to charge inside it.

  He pointed the rod directly at the archaeologist.

  “Gray! No!” I screamed. My heart was pounding fast. I leaped into action.

  Gray fired the crackle rod just as I ran into him with everything I had.

  The beam of electricity from the rod shot off course, missing the archaeologist by inches. Instead it flew past him and hit the wooden scaffolding lining the ruins, which erupted into flames behind us.

  The archaeologist was standing still. He seemed unable to move. He was staring blankly at the smoking spot where the beam had struck, realizing that should’ve been him.

  I didn’t know how long it would take for the crackle rod to recharge, and I didn’t want to find out. I quickly grabbed the archaeologist by the arm. “Go! Run!”

  Realizing his life was in danger, the archaeologist snapped out of his shock and took off at a sprint, fleeing the site as fast as he could.

  Gray began to run after the archaeologist, but I stepped in front of him. “Gray, what are you doing? What is wrong with you?” I cried.

  “I’ll handle the runt!” Tigress’s voice came from behind me.

  There was no time to think. I lunged forward and grabbed the crackle rod from Gray’s hand. I turned the dial down from maximum power and in the same motion spun around to face Sheena.

  With a cry of anger that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me, I pressed the button on the rod, aiming it directly at Tigress. She was blasted with an electric shock that sent her sprawling back into the dirt. I was breathing heavily, stunned by my own feelings of anger and confusion. The shock hadn’t been lethal, but she would be unable to move for a few minutes.

  I swung the crackle rod toward Gray and approached him angrily. He backed away as much at the sight of the crackle rod as at the furious look on my face.

  “What is going on, Gray?” I moved closer to him, the rod crackling with electricity in my hands. “TELL ME!” I raised the rod up to point directly at him.

  Suddenly I felt two hands clasp around my mouth. A cloth rag that smelled of strong chemicals was pressed tightly to my face. I struggled wildly, kicking and flailing my arms, but it was no use. I could faintly hear Boris saying that it was time for me to go back to the island as I began to slip out of consciousness.

  My vision blurred. I could just barely make out the image of Gray looking at me with a distraught expression on his face. And then everything went dark.

  Chapter 10

  Inside the train car, the French countryside passed by their window, but Carmen was carefully studying Gray.

  In his hands was the same crackle rod he had tried to use on the archaeologist, the same one she had stolen for him from Bellum’s classroom.

  “I thought of you as the big brother I never had, Gray. Until that moment,” Carmen said.

  Gray looked back at her, his face expressionless. He was not the same Gray that Carmen had met during orientation so long ago. Or at least, she didn’t think he was. Maybe I never really knew him at all, she thought. But maybe . . . just maybe there was a chance that the Gray she used to know was still in there somewhere.

  “And you were like a kid sister to me,” Gray said quietly after a moment.

  “Then what happened?”

  “What can I say? Senior seminar was a game-changer . . .”

  * * *

  Gray remembered it all too well. The day after graduation, they had been told to go to a surprise seminar. At the time, he thought it was annoying. Just another class that he would have to take after he thought he was done with them all. Then he found out what the seminar really was . . .

  One day after graduating from VILE Academy, Gray stood in the faculty lounge with the other graduates. Next to him were Le Chèvre, El Topo, and Tigress.

  Sitting behind the table in their tall chairs, the members of the faculty looked like judges who were about to decide their fates.

  Dr. Bellum leaned forward. Gray had always thought her to be a bit scatterbrained, but she gazed at them now with laser-like focus. She cracked her knuckles as she spoke. “Graduates, you did not make it this far on your grades alone. And it is now time for you to face your destiny.”

  Gray had to keep himself from laughing. Destiny? What were they talking about? He found himself wishing Black Sheep were here. They would have a good laugh about this later.

  It was Maelstrom’s turn to speak. “We have been watching you closely all along, to test your loyalty—​as well as your ability to go to any . . . necessary extremes,” he said as he folded his hands slowly in front of him.

  Shadowsan stood up. He cast a long, dark shadow over the gathered graduates, and Gray felt a chill run up his spine. The sword, the one hanging in his classroom that Shadowsan had claimed was just for show, was strapped to his waist. Shadowsan took it out of its sheath as he spoke. “No one can stand in the way of achieving our goals . . .”

  “For ultimate wealth leads to ultimate power,” said Cleo. “You’ve earned your place in our organization . . .”

  Coach Brunt gestured to VILE’s logo on the floor in front of them. “Now you will officially join the Villains’ International League of Evil.”

  * * *

  Gray looked at Carmen across the train car and shrugged. “I guess they knew you didn’t have what it takes. They knew you couldn’t go to necessary extremes to do what needed to be done.”

  Carmen had listened to his story intently. So that’s what I missed in senior seminar, she thought. Much of what Gray told her she had already figured out on her own. From
VILE’s rule about leaving no witnesses to their belief that wealth was the ultimate form of power . . . But this was the first time she had learned what VILE’s initials really stood for.

  “Villains’ International League of Evil . . .” Carmen repeated slowly. She shook her head. “My entire childhood was a lie. Stealing isn’t a game at all. It does harm people . . . innocent people!”

  Carmen noticed Gray backing away from her against the train seat. She could tell that what she was saying made him uncomfortable.

  “Especially when you’re willing to steal lives,” she added.

  “Leave no witnesses,” Gray said firmly. “VILE’s golden rule.”

  * * *

  Inspector Chase Devineaux was being tossed around the driver’s seat of his car like a rag doll as he drove over the rocky terrain alongside the train tracks in pursuit of Carmen Sandiego. He was still chasing her train through the French countryside, and he was determined not to let her slip through his fingers. If she crossed the border, she would no longer be in his territory and he would lose his only chance of catching her.

  Though he would never admit it, Chase had been rattled by Carmen Sandiego’s actions at the chateau. She had gotten away from him like it was the easiest thing in the world and had had fun doing it! She was toying with me! Chase was determined to make up for his earlier failing. It was a fluke, that’s all, he reassured himself. And it will not happen again.

  Even though his car was bouncing wildly across the hillside, he never took his foot off the gas pedal. He inwardly cursed Interpol for not giving him a car better suited for high-speed train chases.

  “Finally!” he yelled as he drove up next to the conductor’s window. He quickly took out his badge and waved it back and forth at the window. “Interpol!” he shouted. “Stop this train!”

  But the conductor couldn’t hear him over the roar of the engine. The train pulled away and the tracks made a sharp turn, leaving the inspector far behind. Chase slammed his hand down on his steering wheel and let out a cry of frustration.

  In the seat next to him, his cellphone rang. Chase pressed the speakerphone button angrily. “Inspector Devineaux?” It was Julia.

  “What is it now, Ms. Argent? I am driving!” he responded through his clenched teeth. This had better be good, he thought.

  “Inspector, I am here at the crime scene. This chateau is filled with stolen goods—​money, art . . . Some of it is worth a fortune! There is stolen property here that authorities have been searching for for years.”

  Chase thought about what Julia was telling him. “I do not understand. Are you saying this was her apartment that she was storing stolen goods at? But then why would she steal from herself? It makes no sense!”

  “I did some fact-checking,” said Julia. “Carmen Sandiego does not own the apartment. In fact, the owner of the chateau is not a person but a company. They seem to specialize in imports and exports. And, even more intriguing,” she continued, “the places Carmen Sandiego recently robbed—​the Swiss bank, the art gallery in Cairo, the Shanghai amusement park—​they all have ties to this same company!”

  Chase could feel a headache coming on. “Ms. Argent, what are you trying to say?”

  Julia was silent for a moment as she thought about the evidence and began to form a theory in her mind. “What if,” she said slowly, “for whatever reason, Carmen Sandiego is a thief . . . who steals only from other thieves?”

  “That is ridiculous!” Suddenly, Chase felt his car start to slow down, even though his foot was still pressing on the gas pedal.

  PING!

  The car alarm rang loudly. Chase looked down to see a bright letter E blinking on and off next to the gas dial.

  “Inspector? Is everything all right?” Julia asked, sounding concerned.

  “No, everything is not all right, Ms. Argent! My car is out of gas!”

  The car came to a sputtering stop by the train tracks. “No, no, no, no, no!” Chase cried, kicking the car in the hopes that he could magically get it to turn on again with the impact.

  Chase stepped out of the car with his hands thrust into his pockets. He took out a tin of breath mints and poured all of them into his mouth at once, chewing furiously.

  The sound of a roaring engine came from above. Chase looked up to see a small plane passing overhead. It was heading downward, preparing for a landing in the field nearby. That could get the job done, he thought with renewed hope.

  There wasn’t a moment to lose! Chase grabbed his badge and sprinted toward where the plane was about to land.

  He came upon it just as its engines were shutting down and the pilots were stepping off the plane. Chase waved his badge high in the air as he shouted, “Interpol! Official business! I am taking over this aircraft!”

  * * *

  Carmen and Gray sat in silence across from each other in the train car as it chugged steadily along. As always, Carmen was calm and collected. The black satchel containing her stolen prize lay next to her. By now, she knew, Interpol would have found their way into Countess Cleo’s chateau, just as she had intended.

  Carmen hoped that Player wasn’t too worried about her—​the EMP that Gray had set off was still in effect, and she had no way of contacting him. She knew that he would be trying to make sure she wasn’t in danger. It’s probably a good thing that Player doesn’t know I’m with Gray, she thought.

  Gray looked out the window and said, “Our journey’s winding to a close.” He looked at Carmen with an irritated expression on his face. “And I’m not any closer to knowing the story behind your new look. Or your new name. Carmen Sandiego? Where in the world did that come from?”

  Carmen smiled. “A lady can’t keep a few secrets?”

  In response, Gray tapped the crackle rod. Carmen knew all too well what that device was capable of.

  “All right. I’ll do my best to cut to the chase.”

  The story behind her name. Now, that was an interesting one . . .

  Chapter 11

  After that night in Morocco, I awoke back in my room on Vile Island. My Russian nesting dolls were in their former place on the windowsill next to my bed, and the map of the world was hanging on the wall, still without any pins in it. My escape attempt, seeing the city of Casablanca, my conversation with the archaeologist . . . it all felt like a dream. Like it had never happened.

  The memory of what Gray tried to do began to come back to me, along with Antonio’s words. Leave no witnesses. I found myself wishing that it was all just a bad dream. Still, I took out a thumbtack and pushed it into the dot that marked the city of Casablanca in Morocco. I examined it and sighed. One place down, I thought, and hundreds more to go.

  Things between the faculty members and me were different after what happened. I kept expecting to be disciplined for what I had done, but I received no punishment at all. I suppose they had decided that forcing me to repeat the school year would be punishment enough. Not to mention I was back on the island, and if I’d felt trapped before, it was like a prison to me now.

  But the worst part was that the Cleaners had taken away my phone. They had immediately turned it in to the faculty upon finding it, and I had no way of knowing where it was or what they had done with it. My lifeline to Player, my connection to the outside world, was gone. I was completely alone.

  * * *

  Before the new school year started at VILE Academy, the faculty each dealt with me in their own way. Dr. Bellum thought up new and creative ways to spy on me. Her cameras were hidden, but I became an expert at finding out where they were. I came up with crafty plans to keep away from them as best I could, but I was never really free of her watchful eyes.

  Countess Cleo doubled down on her efforts to tame my wild nature and teach me to be a lady. She held what she called “private etiquette lessons.” I was, of course, the only student. Cleo would have me walk through the halls each day with a stack of books balanced on my head, sometimes while holding a porcelain cup full of tea. To her credit
, my posture never looked better.

  Maelstrom would make me take tests that were supposed to tell him things about how my mind worked. I could never figure out what their purpose was. “Japan,” I told him one day as he held up a card with a black ink stain on it. To me, the ink stains always looked like different countries of the world. “Wrong!” he said, slamming the card down on the table. “It is a seahorse!”

  Shadowsan, on the other hand, avoided me completely, as though I were unworthy of his time or efforts. When we passed each other in the halls, he would always look away as quickly as he could. This was fine by me . . . though sometimes I would jump up and down to try to get his attention, or quickly grab a random small object and ask him if he had dropped it. When he didn’t answer, I’d find a way to slip it into his pocket and hope he thought of me when he went to empty his pockets later that night.

  And then there was Coach Brunt. Brunt did her best to pretend nothing was wrong and make me feel like a spoiled child again. She was always babying me and bringing me cups of hot chocolate. With tears in her eyes, she would tell me over and over again that she blamed herself for my escape attempt. “We shouldn’t have let you enroll in the academy so soon, darlin’. You were too young!” she told me one afternoon.

  A year ago, Coach Brunt’s coddling would have worked. I would have loved the attention and the warmth of the giant hugs that she gave me as she reassured me that she was still my Mama Bear. But now, after knowing the truth about what VILE did out there in the real world, I no longer wanted to be a part of it.

  But even though I wanted nothing to do with VILE, I knew I would have to be careful. If I was going to get through another school year, I would have to be on my very best behavior.