Archived Hiatus

[Narrator]

[Brian Graves - E. Lou Sive]

(OOC: Hey guys, I’m here to help. P.S. Brian Graves is not my real name. I made that up.)
Location: Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay. San Francisco Bay that is.

After every case Brian Graves normally travelled to L.A. by boat for a couple of weeks before returning for his next assignment. On his most recent trip following an adventure involving a master of disguise and a knight in now dented armor, Brian saw on the evening news that ACME’s tower had been pilfered and decided he had better cut his trip short and return immediately to help in whatever way he could. Upon his arrival at the ACME docks he drove his car to ACME HQ. Even though he had seen the crime scene on the news, Brian was still stunned at the sight which met his eyes as he pulled into ACME HQ. The tower was gone, with security surrounding the spot where it once stood, and some new PR lady was giving a press conference nearby. Interested in what facts ACME was spreading to the general public about what happened, Brian started making his way over to the Academy for the press conference. On his way over, he saw someone else walking from the crime scene to the presser. Surmising that this man whom Brian had never met was an ACME agent based on his exit from the heavily guarded crime scene, Brian walked alongside of him and said: “You’re an ACME agent, right? Me too. I’m Brian Graves, rookie agent.” Brian extends his hand to the man for him to shake* “Did you discover anything interesting during your search of the crime scene?”

 

[Tanya]

The consensus from ACME's board of directors, whose total age amounted to 23 years over half a millennia, was to cover up everything. They spent 9 hours in a conference room a street away from ACME compound and produced an itemized script. What Chase Devineaux should say at the press conference had been written for him. He was to tell everyone that the building was scheduled for renovations, but would now be rebuilt instead. Even with the possibility that VILE could come out and prove them wrong, the board wanted to stick to this story.

"She's like a child," Tanya overheard one member of the board, "stealing from her parents, it's rebellious, immature."

"It's elaborate," said a nasal voice, "but I wouldn't make that comparison."

"It's right to say some of us had a hand in her 'creation'," replied the first.

"Let's not be petty," spoke a calmer voice that Tanya thought might be Chief Everard Weller, "We should focus on what we can do, and this... script, is this exactly what we want Chase to say?"

"Yes," someone else agreed, "let us focus on the 'good son'."

"I can't entirely agree," the nasal voice interjected, "What do any of us really know about Chase Devineaux?"

Tanya tuned out as she received Chase's text. Doing her job, she knocked twice at the door of the conference and then let herself peek in to relay the message.

"He's here," she said.

" 'Here', here?" asked the man with the nasal voice.

"Um, net, not right here. He landed at the... uh... airfield."

"Thank you, Tatyana," said an older woman whose voice Tanya hadn't heard before. Something about this lady made the Russian feel tiny, "Take the notes to the secretary, and have her print it out for Mr. Devineaux. Let no one else see it, do you understand?" Receiving no response, the woman prompted, "Tanya."

"Ah, da," she snapped out of her thoughts to follow orders, "yes, I'll do that."

Minutes later, the press conference was a stage set for its lead actor. Tanya could see a few agents walking about, but she had to question where the ones from Luxembourg were. Her answer came in the form of several approaching helicopters.

As they closed in for landing, she hoped the Field Director didn't need much preparation. They were running late, and he still hadn't picked out his suit.

 

[Emma Bezzle]

Loralye held up the ID and followed "Ashley” inside. Well more like she was pulled inside. Her friend had decided she was moving too slow and grabbed her arm to drag her along. The clicking and clapping of Ashley's heels on the marble floor soon came to a rest. Leah took a good look around. The entire room was filled with a soft light dimming the effects of all the brightly shining slot machines that the large room was comprised of.

“This is the slot room,” said Ashley slowly. Leah suddenly got the feeling like she was a three-year-old being explained something very simple. “It’s filled with all kinds of slot machine. You have money, right?” Leah nodded. Of course she had cash on her. “Goodie!” Ashley cried. “Now you stay here for an hour or two. I’m going to try the tables. Wish me luck!”

And she was gone. Leah sighed and made her way over to the change machine to get her quarters. She settled into a comfy chair and, sighing once more, inserted her quarter. This isn’t so bad, Leah thought. An hour later and Leah noticed that her wallet had a noticeable difference in weight. If Ashley wanted them to go gambling again, then they had better stop now. Leah couldn’t even begin to imagine how much her friend had lost.

The poker room was easy enough to find. Ashley sat at the nearest table with four other men. A look of concentration was on her face. It didn’t look right there.

“Hey,” she said to her friend. “Look, if we want to eat tonight we had better get going.”

Ashley huffed and folded. As they started to leave, the small tv behind the bar caught Leah’s attention.

“…ACME has confirmed a press conference to address the issue of their missing headquarters. Chase Devineaux, the-”

“Let’s go,” whispered Leah. “We need to figure out exactly what’s going on.”

 

[Eugene]

(Moving the Luxembourg team to ACME ground zero.)

The instant the Boeing stopped rolling it was attacked by a swarm of ground crew, opening hatches, jockeying various ground vehicles, and offloading the mess of cargo that had been jammed in an eternity ago (or what seemed like it anyways).

The day was just starting though, and only one leg of the journey was complete. Euge dimly noted Chase's thanks as he spooled down the engines and shut down the aircraft before signaling the crews to hook up ground power. Unbuckling his harness, Euge stretched a bit, waking up muscles that had been asleep the entire flight. Chase was already out of the cockpit and addressing the agents seated in the back. Looking out the window, he could see three Sikorsky S-92 helicopters with rotors already spinning, as if sharing the agents' eagerness to get to ground zero.

In a heartbeat, Chase had finished his pep talk and the agents were leaving the Boeing in favor of the Sikorskys. The only thing traveling to the ACME complex was the bare essentials, namely the agents and whatever they could carry. Euge made a mental note to have a truck come by later in the day and pick up the rest of the gear that needed to find its way to ACME proper.

Euge noted the last passenger pile into the chopper and finished up the checklist. Looking up, he saw the other two were already airborne and quickly followed suit. In the air, it was only minutes to ACME. As they drew closer, the extent of the situation became clear; a crater where the building should be was teeming with vehicles and people. Further out, another ring of personnel prowled a security perimeter to ward off excessively curious press. At the extreme edge of the campus Euge could make out what appeared to be a podium. Spotting a clearing within the secure perimeter that looked as if it had been planned for his birds, he bought the Sikorsky down into a small dust storm that heralded the final arrival of the Luxembourg team.

 

[Chief]

Everard Weller had concerns of his own. His granddaughter, Hailey, had been missing for just over 18 hours, as Chief of ACME, he had convinced the family to wait 24 hours before officially going to the police; this method of handling matters, his wife approved only because she trusted him.

After the board meeting, he called Chase Devineaux. Chief Weller reached a voice mail, possibly because the helicopter was too loud and the Field Director couldn't hear his phone; or simply, something else plagued the man's mind. In either case, Dr. Weller left a message:

He started with, "Chase, this is Dr. Weller, I need you to consider your actions carefully. I doubt there's time for us to talk before the press conference, but I'm hoping this reaches you in time. Hailey is missing...," he continued as briefly as possible on the situation, about how Hailey might have been taken with the tower, and a plea for any ideas from the detective. The message ended cautiously, "The board has for you a script, read it thoroughly before speaking. Confirm you've received this, lad."

 

[Lee]

Everything Lee Jordan did was about getting ahead, or getting somewhere. He knew he messed up during Luxembourg, but this was nicely overshadowed by other events. He sat on the plane, then the helicopter, knowing very well that all the blame was going somewhere today, and it wasn't going to be him. The speech by the Field Director was respectable, but Lee scoffed. It's even more obvious to the informant now that Chase Devineaux got places by knowing what to say. When he saw the tower site, he had to hand it to Carmen. There was always talk about how she'd never dare. Now look at it, empty. "Why" she did it, Lee wanted to know. First chance he got, he'd have to leave San Francisco.

 

[Chase]

(Decently edited co-post with Tanya. To establish time, it's about evening, I'm going with 3:15 AM + the 17-18 hour plane ride from Luxembourg... 7 - 8 PM in San Francisco. No need to edit any posts prior to this, unnecessary.)



Doctor Weller's concerns reached Chase mid-flight and he listened to the message twice, the first time for context, the second time to think. A missing girl complicated matters significantly, and every move now was crucial.

As the helicopter landed, Chase found Tanya waiting for him.

"Privet," she quickly greeted and continued to business, "Come with me to the gym. You must clean up, shave. I left out two suits for your choosing, the gray, or the black, with matching ties. Everything else is ready," then she handed him the script from the board. "Orders," she said grimly.

Walking with ACME's new Press Relations Officer, Chase was assured that he had made the right decision. She was quick, and better yet, she was thorough. He took the script and scanned through it. The text was short, barely two pages, explaining that the towers were due for renovations, after a change of plans, it was cleanly 'demolished' for a new construction. Simple enough, he thought.

But Hailey Weller is still missing.

Assuming that VILE found the little girl, they must make contact if they wanted to give her back. It would be devastating otherwise. Chase had to be completely sure that VILE was in possession of Hailey, and then he would force them to act. Quelling the media was one thing, using it was another.

When it was time, Tanya announced him, and Chase took a spot in front of the reporters.

"Good evening, Ladies and gentlemen of the press," he started, "at approximately 3:15 AM, this morning, the main tower in our compound disappeared," pausing briefly, he made the difficult decision to be truthful.

"It was stolen."

A wave of unintelligible noise emitted from the crowd as they asked similar questions with varying words. Tanya stood nearby, bewildered at the sudden uproar.

In the conference room, board members watched with disbelief. "What is he doing?" one exclaimed, "Where's the Russian? Tell her to stop this!"

The speaker continued, "We have enough to suspect a notorious crime ring, led by a figure with the moniker 'Carmen Sandiego'," more questions arose, but Chase ignored them. He named the culprit, now he was going to provide his conditions.

"Of urgency, Hailey Weller--six--may have been inside the building at the time," the journalists became quiet at news of Dr. Weller's granddaughter, "We have yet to hear from any party regarding her status, but I would encourage dialog to be established within the next twenty-four hours."

A high-pitched interference rang and faded. Chase breathed. In a few sentences, he had perceivably threatened VILE. He played on their leader's disapproval of public threats to urge some kind of response. While it may not work, this was better than covering up everything and failing to give answers. Worst yet, the script would have caused a division among those who knew the truth and those who didn't, and unity was necessary.

"... As a public entity, we have obligations," he closed, "not only to bring justice to offenders, but to do what we can to correct such events. While ACME's own network scours its resources, I urge your own networks, both in the media and out, to submit any possible lead -- The control team is standing by -- As always, thank you."

He stood at the podium to reflect on what was said, but found it little use. Chase left the crowd, nodding once to Tanya on his descent back into the academy. The press conference was over, and while no question from the media was directly answered, everyone got what they came for.

 

[E. Mayhew]

The helicopters had touched down. With ACME's HQ gone, dozens of reporters on the premises, detectives running around confused and nothing officially said yet it was easy to say that the property was crowded. As Tanya ushered Chase away to his press conference and the agents filed out to their own fates around the compound the agent still known to the masses as Melissa Wayward slipped away headed straight for the dorms.

Reaching the building in record time E/Missy carefully slipped past the crowd in the first floor common areas huddled around a television, bypassing the elevator for the less occupied and much faster route of the back stairwell. Two at a time her feet flew up the stairs though if asked no one would say she'd actually been running. Jingle, clack, slam, she was in room 424 in record time. Though the 'dorm room' was small, really only a bedroom with its own bathroom to the side, it was traditionally kept clean enough. Knick Knacks on their shelves, clothes in their hampers or drawers, carpeted floors vacuumed regularly.

It was its cleanliness which made E's current mental state even more obvious as, once the door was locked, her blouse was thrown to the floor followed quickly by a sports bra and hair elastic. Grabbing two towels from a hook on the wall she made her way to the bathroom, only pausing long enough to let her pants, contents and all, slide to the floor, step out of her shoes and to reach for her television's remote to turn on the local news. Realizing her carelessness E reached into her fallen pants to grab her blackberry which she put on the sink next to her shower before reaching for the shower's knobs and turning it on full blast.

The temperature of the water hit somewhere in that steam sweet spot before she finally stepped in, giving a deep and appreciative sigh as the pressure hit her head and shoulders just as Chase's press conference started. The upset agent quietly wondered to herself why she was listening to the news at all. It didn't matter what had really happened to that tower, ACME would never admit something had happened to the public. Go figure, getting caught in her own lies had soured her to the idea of entertaining someone else's. Even if it was to save face.

"Good evening, Ladies and gentlemen of the press," he started, "at approximately 3:15 AM, this morning, the main tower in our compound disappeared," pausing briefly, he made the difficult decision to be truthful.

E's eyes rolled as she started to lather up her hair, fingers massaging the soap into her long bleached tresses.

"It was stolen."

Immediately E's soapy head stuck itself out of the shower. 'WHAT did he say?!' she mouthed in surprise, Pantine Pro-v dripping onto her bathmat. She continued to listen to her television, slowly pulling herself back under the spray to rinse her head. Well that was something unexpected; both Chase's truth and the news of Haley's disappearance, though the idea that one had impacted the other was not lost on her. To care enough to ask though was a whole other story.

Finishing her shower quickly E dressed and pulled her still wet hair up in a messy bun before reaching into her bathroom closet and producing a pair of wire rimmed glasses. It had been a good year since she'd worn them properly but now that her cat was out of the bag keeping them hidden hardly seemed appropriate now. Besides, she considered as she removed her contact lenses, if she was going back to Boston soon she was going to be comfortable.

 

[Ken U Belevitt]

[Ken U. Belevitt]

Ken stood at the entrance to the hangar with a duffel bag packed over his shoulder. He admitted to himself that he was a little nervous about flying out again, given that his last trip turned into such an odyssey. Still, this had nothing to do with him anymore. Now it was all for Patty. He was sure to impress her this time, Maybe he could even find a nice romantic spot for them, and she could finally see past his dumpy outer shell an learn what a wonderful person he was.

When he arrived in the hanger, he set his bag down and looked at the transport Patty was loading up. It was good that she'd chosen the plane. His last attempt at choosing didn't bode well. Carmen was tolerant of what had happened for now but she'd become less tolerant if he were to keep losing planes. Ken looked up into the hangar bay towards Patty, shading his eyes with the top of his hand. "Uhh...you ready?"

 

[Narrator]

[Crimson]

Ashley was just finishing up her latest blackjack game when Leah walked in with a look of confusion on her face. "Look, if we want to eat tonight we had better get going." Ashley just scoffed and rolled her eyes at her naive friend.

While entering the bar, something caught Ashley's attention, and it wasn't a cute pair of shoes. It was the news. She stared at the screen for a few seconds. Um, ACME's tower was missing? Since when? Ashley looked at Leah with a look of extreme confusion. She grabbed Ashley's wrist and pulled her out to the lobby.

One person. Ashley knew there was one person who could tell them what the latest with the situation was. She pulled out her cell phone and gave it to Leah. "Press button number one and hit talk." she instructed to her best friend.

 

[Sophie]

ACME Medical Centre (AMC), San Francisco


"When this is over, his is the face you're going to see taking all the credit for ACME on the news."

Purposefully ignoring the assemblage of press and security personnel that circumvented the blank plot of land where the ACME Tower once stood, Sophie Conrad strode briskly across the private parklands, away from the ACME Academy and towards the glass façade of the ACME Medical Centre.

Somewhere within the walls of the Academy buildings, arrangements to have Mia Pierce transported home to her family at Dolores Heights were ongoing; as were, respectively, for all the other cadets who had been on the field-trip to Luxembourg City. Caleb Lake, with all the natural exuberance of a young man his age, was now lost to the sea of gatherers and Sophie, following a succinct text message sent to remind him of his obligations to protect the public image of the agency, could do nothing more but hope the best for his discernment.

Pulling the length of a blue-and-silver lanyard over her head, Sophie entered the warmly-lit Emergency Room. On the ground floor of the AMC, the patient and visitor traffic into the facility had all but trickled to a stop as a beset ACME prepared for the press conference that was to be chaired by its Field Director.

Within the inner pocket of her coat, her personal mobile phone vibrated as its persistently lengthening tally of missed calls alternated between ‘Home, Rockport’ and the various personal numbers of her family members. Sophie adjusted her ponytail as she walked through the foyer and past the triage counter of the department, picking up a print-out of the abnormally – but not unexpectedly – short list of patients in the holding areas. She should have known that the ambiguous message she had left her family, to ensure them of her safety and continued confidence in the organisation she worked for, would never have sufficed. Yet, she would convey no more as she had no intention of speaking to her family or friends – or anyone outside of ACME – until she had heard what the Field Director wanted the world to know.


* * *


Slowly scrolling through the text messages on her AMC-issue mobile phone, Sophie vacillated between watching the reflection of a news ticker upon the screen of the device and formulating appropriate answers to professional enquiries. All questions pertaining to her time spent in Luxembourg City were impassively, but truthfully, fielded with the pedestrian tale of an agent with a sprained ankle and x-rays awaiting review; while her thoughts about the vanished ACME Tower were simply summed up to be very few (that were worth sharing).

On the flat-screen television above her, the animated logo of a news network flashed across its display and, from her left, the elbow of a nearby colleague nudged her arm. Sophie looked up.

T.J. Holmes, she recognised the anchor onscreen as he stood in front of the stark-looking concrete space the absence of a 16-storey building left behind. How fitting… After all, he had once worked in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Carefully guarding the expression on her face, Sophie silently watched the report on ACME – from the cursory introduction to both the agency and its current predicament to the much-anticipated public address given by Chase Devineaux – with the same rapt attention that she believed everyone else to be undoubtedly conferring to it. Around her, the twitter of remarks that had begun with the implication of VILE grew into a shared refrain of dismay and condemnation at the mention of Hailey Weller:

Was the distress of a suddenly-missing structure insufficient for the purposes of Carmen Sandiego and her organisation of miscreants that they should resort to personally attacking the esteemed Chief of ACME?

Sophie looked down at the mobile phone in her hands and, though she tactfully acknowledged selected comments, decided to agree and disagree with no one. It was futile to insult and pointless to seek rationale in the actions and choices of their antagonists.

Discreetly detaching herself from the discourse of the gathered medical and nursing personnel in the Emergency Room, Sophie set off for the highest floor of the AMC. First and foremost on her mind was the alleviation of the concerns relayed by her family; following which she was resolved to a shower, food and drink – every action planned with the intention of making herself fit to see the patients she needed to and, without a doubt, dispense whatever necessary assurances and reassurances to both them and their families; for as the Field Director of ACME and his agents had their appropriate affairs and duties to attend to, likewise did the employees of the ACME Medical Centre.

"Everything's fine; we're still ACME, nothing has changed."

 

[Vic]

(Another co-post with @Carmen, hot off the burner.)


"Sonova..." Vincent 'The Slick' Fumigalli drew a comment while in a chair facing the satellite feed from a news channel. Live from ACME Headquarters. The man on screen was Chase Devineaux, ACME's Field Director and poster boy, blatantly not playing the role of a bureaucrat, "he's threatening us?"

"Piano man!" Hailey pointed at the TV. While Vic wouldn't have known, Chase had played the piano at Chief Weller's house on ACME compound the previous Thanksgiving, and that was how the granddaughter knew him. Hearing it, though, only made the conman think this kid was cuckoo.

"Piano man?" Vic snorted.

"He plays the piano," Carmen's plain answer had Fumigalli looking up to match any facial cue with the tone. At times, she reminded him of an alabaster statue, a little cold, a little expressionless. He could tell she was thinking more things a minute than he could understand in a week, and his head hurt.

Here's the thing with being a VILE agent, as far as Vic was concerned, if you ever got the chance to be in the same room with Carmen, staring at her too long was bound to make you feel like the world wasn't real. It couldn't be real if you're working for the dame that could literally swipe a thousand ships.

"OK," said one of the few people on earth to swear by polyester, "so he's musical, so is Sar'h. What's he thinking accusing us in front of the masses? We'll be hounded!"

"I don't know," was her reply. But she did know, and knew well. She acknowledged long ago the condition that Chase Devineaux was a company man and that he would defy odds to ensure its best interest, intriguingly; the press conference showed a shift in his priorities. On the surface, his speech did what Vincent conceived, accused VILE of the possible abduction of Chief Weller's granddaughter; the intonation used, however, suggested that he was in conflict (if not with himself, then with someone else). As he spoke the truth, he seemed to the thief's other senses, a liar.

He has to save you, she perceptively thought, and then looked down to the little girl named Hailey Weller. Certainly, luck was favorable. If they had not discovered her earlier, VILE would be busy searching the building now.

While spending time with Hailey, Carmen discovered among the girl's possessions, a staff identification card belonging to Chief Weller. From Hailey's chronologically sporadic tale, the thief surmised the night's events. Hailey had been at Chief Weller's home, located in a small tree-dotted area of residences between the main building and the academy. For reasons involving 'fairies', she woke up late in the night and told her parents she was going to find her grandfather. Somewhere between the guest bedroom and the master bedroom of the Weller's home, Hailey spotted Chief Weller's keycard left on a table and decided to go 'see his TV.' She put on her coat and hat, and two right shoes, one pink and one white. She gave no hints on how she passed the guards and ACME's rigorous security checks at that hour, but she did mention that (days before) she had seen agents, including her own kin, use their identification cards to enter the building. Her mother also repeatedly said 'Kuppa' was on 'the floor with two lines'.

"Like this," Hailey had explained, putting together the first finger of both her hands to show the number eleven.

Carmen exhaled slowly; this resourceful little girl had unwittingly stirred a storm.

"So, what do we do?" Vic's right eye was starting to twitch and he had one hand massaging the side of it as he talked, "Can't stick to the old plan, we only got 24 hours. Say we leave now, getting the plane live, loaded, and landing in San Francisco would be a good 20 hours, at least."

Carmen mentally ran through the steps of her original plan, factoring in the adversary's most recent action. There was no reason to keep the tower; nothing of this size may be hidden forever, but she did hope to possess it for longer than two days. On balance, Chase's main objective was Hailey, not the building. That alone would buy her some time.

"Then we'll need to meet him half way," she concluded and resolutely abandoned the area, heading to the nearest console to propagate her new intent. Everything she wanted from that building must be accomplished within the day, because as ACME's words spread world-wide; nearly all available navigation satellites, investigative reporters, and amateur detectives would be looking for it.

"Half way, where?" Vic asked to no reply, feeling a migraine coming on, "Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and Frank Sinatra!" Exasperated, he sank into the chair in front of the news broadcast and watched with eyes squinted at a replay of the press conference. If Sarah Nade was here, the conman might feel a little better about dealing with Devineaux's accusations, but he had no idea where that Nade was, or if she was taking collect calls from the middle of nowhere.