Archived Hiatus

[Deric Storm]

(Deric’s grandparents’ names are Tom and Betty. I see them voiced by Sam Elliott and K Callen)

Storm Residence- Fairview, Nebraska

Deric stalked towards his target, which was currently out in the open and unguarded. He would not be denied, not this time. Stopping to quickly scan his surroundings, Deric saw he was in the clear. Quietly closing the distance, he knew victory was in sight. Grabbing the closest disc, he was proceeding to extraction…

when he was hit square in the face with a sponge. Busted… again.

“Deric Alexander Storm,” came a matronly voice from the source of the offending sponge, “drop it. You can wait ‘til supper.”

“Yes, Grammy,” Deric said, placing the cooling chocolate-chip cookie back onto the baking sheet. Standing to his full height, Deric moved to help his grandmother with the next batch of cookies for the Winter Festival bake sale. Grabbing a bag of chocolate chips from the top shelf of the cupboard, he handed it to her so she could finish the last batch.

“I remember you having to climb up there like a spider-monkey to get those.”

“Not since middle school, Grammy.” Deric said with a wink.

“You done decorating?” Deric’s grandmother asked with a sideways glance. Deric responded with a sigh.

“Not yet,” Deric answered, “Grandad wanted to watch the news and I wanted a snack.” Deric said, reaching towards the open bag. He was met with a swat from a wooden spoon.

“Finish first, then a snack.” Deric mock-saluted before trudging back to the living room. Walking through the open doorway into the living room, Deric spied his grandfather watching the evening news. Opening a plastic tub, Deric grabbed some stockings to hang over the old fireplace.

“Caught’cha again?” the gravelly tones of his grandfather wafted over to him.

“Yessir,” Deric tersely responded. The low, chuckling sound he heard brought a smile to the young man’s face. Grabbing the nearby hammer and nails, Deric began to secure the stockings to the wooden mantle. Tom turned up the volume on the TV to drown out the hammering.

“Next game start yet?” Deric asked, after hanging the first stocking. The two had been watching the previous three games while putting away the decorations from Thanksgiving and breaking out the ones for Christmas.

“Not yet.” Tom said, checking the game time in the newspaper. “Still can’t believe Bama blew that last game.” Putting the paper down, Tom turned back to the news.

Deric had put three stockings up when something he never thought he’d hear came across the news.

“live from the site where the ACME Tower once stood.”

Deric dropped the hammer in shock and hopped over the back of the couch to sit down. Seeing the crater where ACME HQ used to be hit him like a two-by-four to the gut. He was in shock. The rest of the piece was a blur. Words like “CO2 alarm”, “evacuation”, and “vanished into thin air” rolled over him. He was snapped out of his stupor when the reporter claimed “ACME has no suspects at this time.”

“Great googly-moogly,” Deric exclaimed, “that’s a load of garbage.”

“What do you mean, son?” Tom asked his grandson.

“ACME knows exactly who’s behind this.” Deric was about to elaborate when his cellphone rang. Looking at the caller ID, Deric saw it was Shane ‘Shine’ Brooks, a friend from his training days.

“Shine, tell me this is just some sort of elaborate prank,” Deric pleaded to his former classmate. “Of course I heard it’s gone, it’s all over the bloody news,” Deric basically yelled into the phone. “Please tell me there’s a reason we told the press there are no suspects. We know who did this.” Deric was informed that a strategy was being formulated and should stand by for further orders.

 

[Eugene]

Seventeen hours of inaction was making the entire aircraft into a ball of tension looking for an outlet. Even with the constant communications with ACME personnel on the ground and the incessant stream of media, the entire situation was a mess. The thought of media bought Tanya's new position briefly to Euge's mind, one that he did not envy. The press was a relentlessly hungry beast, and an absence of official statements only served to fuel more speculation and paranoia.

The aircraft radio came to life, snapping Euge back to reality. San Fransisco was rapidly approaching, and he was getting behind the curve. It didn't help that his co-pilot was a bundle of nerves, so introspective he hadn't moved the entire flight. Thankfully the early morning weather was clear and calm, allowing an unobstructed (if rather unorthodox) flyby of the compound.

"Unpucker Euge," he whispered to himself, "you've been in worse snarls than this." The tension rolling off everyone else aboard was getting to him, more than the actual situation. His monologue was interrupted by the cockpit door opening. Glancing back, he saw Missy standing silently, just staring blankly out the window at where the ACME office should have been. Euge toyed with the idea of circling a few more times so that the notion would sink in more fully, but decided against it. No one had said anything, but he understood the gropos were more comfortable on the ground where they were effective. "20 minutes to ground," Euge called over the intercom before starting the descent into ACME's field. "I've arranged a few transport helicopters to get you and the agents to ACME base," Euge said to Chase, not sure if his words had registered with the senior agent. "I need you to strap into the jumpseat if you're going to hang around for the approach Missy."

 

[Tanya]

In an apartment a few streets away from ACME compound, Tanya received news about the missing tower at exactly 5:32 a.m., when Macy Gartner, a reporter from INB, called on her cell phone.

"Tanya, it's Macy, what's going on? Is it true, Carmen Sandiego stole ACME Tower?"

"What have you heard, Ms. Gartner?" The Russian detective and newest member of ACME's Press and Public Relations asked a general question to stall this reporter until she could clarify what actually happened.

While Macy talked about a cousin living near the inner city area and something about the ACME tower disappearing with a flash of lightning, Tanya found her communicator and a message from Chief Weller: 'TOWER GONE, possibly linked to VILE, hold the battle lines until Chase gets back, all agents have been instructed to give no comments at this time.'

Wonderful, Tanya thought, we now hide an elephant in a Parisian apartment.

"Ms. Garter," she said without any doubt, "There is nothing I can tell you, but I will be arranging a full press conference as soon as I receive information."

"You mean when Chase Devineaux gets back? That would take forever! Three hours ago, he was still in Luxembourg, Tanya, a local news reel caught him horseback-riding after a suspect up the Bock."

Tanya rolled her eyes. Reporters must enjoy bringing up things that shouldn't be brought up.

"You'll receive an email from me shortly, Ms. Garter, spasibo, and have a good morning," As soon as she disconnected, her phone beeped to show that 9 other reporters had attempted to contact her in the last 2 minutes. Shrugging, she stood up and sent a message to Chase: 'FYI, we need a press conference within 18 hours, are you up for it?'



(Post above ok'ed by Chief Weller about the message sent to Tanya)

 

[Patty]

"And now for his next trick," Patty's TV announced while she curled her hair, "a ring... of FIRE!"

That's lame, Patty thought, and changed the channel. She had been in Antarctica, back from Paris, for half a week now and she was planning to do nothing this holiday season. Nothing but trouble. All she needed now was a good idea to batt her eyelashes.

"...as the wallaby takes its time, the..."

Click.

"...Magnificent piece of architecture..."

Click. VILE HQ had way too many documentary channels.

"...the disappearance of its prestigious headquarters," said the news channel, "Later today, ACME will release a statement to..." Patty started on the hot curling iron but stopped to stare at the TV. She had figured something big was happening when Vic sent her on a distraction mission to France, but she had no idea something this big would happen.

No sooner had she put down her curling iron did her phone beep with an incoming message. A bonus was transferred to her account, she read, and then the message deleted itself.

This was totally awesome, she had to congratulate somebody, but where was everybody?

 

[Ken U Belevitt]

[Ken U. Belevitt]


Ken mulled over the possibility of what he'd do with all his money. Perhaps a vacation was in order. A tour of the site of Jimmy Hoffa's dissapearance seemed like a winning idea. that's when he vaguely heard some noise coming from further inside the compound. He may have been like a ghost over the past few days, but today, he was pretty sure he was alone. He stood up from his desk, dusted some corn chip crumbs off his belly and went inside to investigate.

When he got to the sourse of the murmuring, he drew in his breath, which is one of the things he often did when he saw Patty. She was always so sweet and demure looking, even in full just-rolled-out-of-bed mode. Ken wished he looked like that in reprose. At least he'd settle for the ability to wake up without fully clogged nasals every morning, to say nothing of the crick in the neck one only gets from sleeping under one's desk.

Again he inhaled sharply, troubled nasals making a snirking noise as he took in breath, licking his lips, his internal liquids swelling with the urge to provide Ken with enough of an appropriate fortitude to actually speak words to his beloved.

"Hiiiiiii Paaaaaaaaaaaaatty...."

 

[Patty]

Patty turned around at the source of the voice behind her. It was Kenny, one of VILE's newer members and someone she thought might have left already. She had maybe one case with Kenny. He was what her British friends would have called 'staudgy', kinda slow and heavy, not totally appealing. Patty hated to be seen with him, but he was sometimes really witty, and that kind of grew on her... kind of. Today, though, Patty was happy to see just about anyone.

"Oh my God, Kenny!" She squealed, "did you hear what happened? Did you see the news?? This is, like, tots the most awesome thing ever!"

The TV was still reviewing ACME Tower's disappearance.

"Hey, didn't Vic say you disappeared?" Patty went on, really fast, "Where did you go, how come you're back, what happened? OMG, I totally need some coffee to slow down. Come on. Let's go talk there."

Leaving her room to go to the common area, she waved for Ken to follow.

 

[Deric Storm]

A hole in the ground...

The site where, for decades, some of the best and brightest investigative minds had pitted their skills against the world's most devious criminals had been reduced to a giant pothole.

Seeing it on TV and actually seeing in person were two completely different things.

Deric was actually angrier now than he was when he first saw it on the news. He had quickly packed up his truck and driven back to San Francisco. He had walked past the makeshift press area constructed near the Academy buildings, which had been serving as a temporary Command Center while the Tower was beginning renovations.

'Oh, that is not going to be pretty...' Deric thought as he had walked by. Apparently, a good number of agents had been lured to Luxembourg as a diversion. ACME had been made to look like complete imbeciles. What really bothered him was a small pang of guilt.

'If only I had been here...'

Approaching the crater, Deric was stopped by some security guards. He flashed his Agent Badge, and was let through. The crater was massive, encompassing an extra twenty feet to each side of where the Tower stood. Crouching over the edge, Deric saw it was a completely rounded edge all the way around. Plucking some blades of grass that were at the edge of the crater, Deric took a look the edges of the blades. They were cut cleanly with a slight singe to the edge.

"Perfect circle..." Deric said, standing back up. "No visible toolmarks and a high temperature electrical burn on the edges of the outlying grass." Putting the pieces together in his head, a possible answer hit him like a bolt out of the blue.

"Great googly-moogly, that's how they did it." he said to no one in particular. He could hear noise coming from the Academy, signaling the start of the press conference. Deric started making his way towards the commotion. He needed to bounce an idea off of someone.

Deric wasn't as angry anymore...

Now he was ready to get their HQ back...

 

[Chase]

(Making the Luxembourg team land, and moving this forward a bit.)


"Right," Chase nodded to Eugene Grovington and quietly checked the controls. He hadn't seen Missy Wayward, or Eleanor Mayhem, entering the cockpit until the craft was ready to land. Credit would have to go to Missy for retrieving Phoenix, who was now safely tucked in the cargo hold. When Euge said he had arranged a few transport helicopters, Chase remembered how many agents were actually behind them.

In situations like these, a man of his position would need to control as many factors as possible. Variables like Carmen Sandiego were random and should be left to their own devices. Plans must compensate the variables' actions because, like they say, progress is built from chaos.

Once the plane landed, Devineaux decided to address what he felt was most important. First, he thanked Euge. Although hired as a flight instructor, the pilot went beyond necessities to help on this case. No matter the outcome, his skills were needed.

As the field director stood to leave, he passed by Missy and patted her on the back. (Despite conflicts, he had decided to keep Melissa Wayward as an agent, but telling her would have to wait.) Opening the door and stepping out of the cockpit, he saw several faces greeting him. Some seemed anxious. Chase figured he didn't have the power to make everything all right, but he could be truthful.

"Before we leave this plane, let's remember," he spoke with direction, "As people working for the law, we're obligated to do the right thing. Today, keep in mind that your actions will affect everyone you know, everyone who sees you," he knew he didn't need details, "Don't add to public panic, stay fair, and don't accuse anyone if you talk to reporters," he then ended with a reminder that seemed necessary, "Everything's fine; we're still ACME, nothing has changed."

ACME's Air Field attendants connected a moving stairway to the jet.

"Go home, get some rest," he said to everyone, while signaling for an agent to manually open the door, "and meet me tomorrow, 2 PM, for an official debriefing, Academy conference rooms."

Seeing the new doctor, he wondered how much of what he said applied to non-agents as well, "Take care of your staff," he told her, "Let me know if you need anything."

While others in the plane exited slowly, Chase returned to a message he received from Tanya. To her question about a press conference, he replied: "Just landed. I'm ready when you are."

 

[Vic]

(Co-post, written by yours truly and the Lady in Red.)


When Vic "The Slick" Fumigalli got a message on his phone that his bonus came through and that Carmen wanted to see him, he had conflicting thoughts. The result could be either very good, or very bad.

The titillating thief had good communication with all her employees, Vic being one of them, but she had a way of keeping distance. Everybody knew something about her, but nobody really knew anything about her.

When she said "her quarters," Vic also knew it was in the Russian plane they borrowed a few weeks ago in exchange for a delivery job to Minsk. Carmen's been using it as a temporary hold, probably planning to swap it out with a different plane before going back to HQ.

Nearing her room in the cargo aircraft and seeing the door opened, Fumigalli entered.

Carmen was in a big upholstered chair, part of a set of European antiques scheduled for shipment via this transport to an Asian buyer. The rug in front of her held something that made Vic scratch his head: toys. Modest toys, books, a low table full of food, and a little kid to put it all together.

"Aah, you wanted' see me?" he asked.

"I did," was her reply, "shut the door, Vincent."

Vic shut the door behind him and paused. It was weird to see what he was seeing and he had to point out what was wrong with this picture, "Where'd you get the kid?"

Carmen shot a glance towards him then provided a prompt answer, "You."

Vic took two steps backwards, "What?"

"Dr. Everard Weller's granddaughter," she elaborated, "Hailey."

"Hi," Hailey interjected, "did I see you on Kuppa's TV?"

"That's impossible!" the conman shook his head and brought up his right hand, exaggeratedly showing 3 fingers, "ACME Tower reported only three heat markers, me, the hacker, and that alien."

"She's tiny," the thief suggested, "anyone could have missed her, mistakes happen."

"D'aw! No!" Vic touched his thinning hair.

"We need her returned."

"How?" Fumigalli shuddered, "You know whoever takes the kid home is going to the big house, right? There's no way they'd let this one slide." He hated the thought of more jail time.

"This isn't the mafia, Vic," she assured, "Ideally, they only want their little girl back; and we can't afford additional controversy... Not ones about kidnapping."

The polyester-clad henchman thought with his chin in his hand. His head was a fuzzy cloud of stress, but then something occurred to him, his boss was never jumpy. Looking at the kid, then back at her, he asked, "You already got a plan?"

Jauntily leaning back into her armchair, Carmen had expected the query; and she nodded a congratulatory affirmation.

 

[Ken U Belevitt]

[Ken U. Belevitt]


As Patty fetched her cup of coffee Ken explained to her everything about his time away, nearly getting captured by The User, and his time at the FBI, trying to track down that mutual enemy of his and Carmen's. It sounded insane, as stories that Ken usually told were, but there was slightly more grounding behind it. Ken told this one calmly as opposed to making the whole event sound like some wild ingenious rant. He said it matter-of-factly as it was indeed a matter of fact.

".....After a few months the trail went cold and I decided to come back. For a while I didn't know if I was still wanted, then I saw that Carmen handed out her bonuses this morning and I got one as well." Ken sat with a hand firmly ringing his curled crop of ginger hair. "I was thinking of taking a personal trip, you know, going to..." Ken gave a pause as he didn't want to start talknig about investigating Jimmy Hoffa in Patty's presence. "Detroit....Or maybe..."Ken gave another pause, trying to think of somewhere more normal to mention. "New York City. I've got my eye on some Christmas in Rockefeller Center...."

there was one last long, awkward pause, before Ken stammered. "I-if y-y-you l-luh-hike, you c-could c-cuh-come w-hi-hith m-m-muh-m..."

 

[Patty]

Patty was totally into her coffee, passively listening to Kenny. It might be Antarctica, but the Italian side of Vic made sure they always had a pressurized can of authentic illy coffee practically direct from the Illy family. Actually, she could care less where the coffee came from, as long as it smelled nice.

A story about some guy named "User" should've set some red balloons floating in her head, but Patty heard stories like these before. Carmen gets plenty of weird stalkers, a lot of them perfectly sane too, until they hear about her. There was that guy who made his apartment a VILE "safehouse" and advertised it online. The two groupies with a Carmen shrine, that woman that pretended to be her, and the reporter who claimed to have had a long "enlightening" conversation with her. Not to even include the Masquerade where that silly kid in Venice shot an ACME pilot.

Then she heard something about Rockefeller something-something. Exactly the kind of trouble she was looking for this time of year!

"New York!" Patty exclaimed, "That's so cool, oh my god," she paused for a nano second, "I need to pack!" Getting up and running to her room, she hollered back, "Meet you in the hangar, Kenny!

 

[Narrator]

[Crimson]

"Well, duh, it's a fake ID!" Crimson whisper screamed back. "Since you're such a child prod... whatever that word is... maybe you could come up with a better idea, Leah!" Crim paused. "By the way, my name is now Ashley O'Neil. So, no more Crimson Paine." She rolled her eyes at her stiff friend and looked down at her black slingback heels.

"Look, Leah. You just have to suffer through this for two hours. Then, I get to be tortured at your 'cultural experience.' We are going in now so act cool. Remember, confidence is key." Ashley said, grabbing Leah by the wrist. She was not getting out of this that easily.

Reaching the door of the casino, Ashley flashes her ID at the guard and elbowed Leah to do the same.