Archived Hiatus

[Narrator]

[Zack]

(Mini Co-Op Post With Tanya and *gasp* Zack and Ivy... have.. parents?!)

Monaghan Residence – San Francisco

Zack Monaghan’s slumber was awoken from the sun peeking through his blinds. The skateboarder sat up, yawned and stretched. He slowly clambered out of bed and began his morning routine. He brushed his teeth, showered and changed into fresh clothes. Zack went from his boxers and t-shirt into a dark blue pair of skater jeans, and a black t-shirt with an abstract design that had bright colours. Not bothering with socks, he shook his short wet damp hair once more and walked out of his room and into the kitchen.

Another yawn and stretch came to him when he entered the kitchen. The warm wood floor felt nice against his cold feet. He looked around the place where the whole family, Mom, Dad, Ivy and him, would eat dinner every night prior to Zack and Ivy joining ACME. He walked over to the well worn antique rounded square oak table and ran his hand over it, feeling all the indents from things like writing papers and arts and crafts. A faint smile formed on his face as he remembered Ivy helping him with his history homework, Mom helping with English, or Dad helping with math.

“Good Morning Zacky” came a familiar loving voice.

The skateboarder turned around and saw a thin woman, dressed in a pair of track pants and a pink track top. Her hair was in and bun and the same colour as Zack’s, but a few strands of grey could be seen due to age taking its visual toll. Despite this, her frame meant that she was still in good shape. She was just a little shorter than Zack, but her matching blue eyes could still be meet his easily, despite them being behind a thin black round glasses frame. Her feet donned a pair of running shoes.

Zack smiled and walked over to the woman. It was Sheila Monaghan, Zack and Ivy’s mother.

“Morning Mom,” he said with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “How are you?”

“Doing good,” replied Sheila. She let go of the embrace and grabbed two bowls from the nearby cupboard, along with a box Whole Grain Honey Nut Cheerios. “How was your sleep?”

“It was good,” Zack said from the fridge. When they parted from the hug, he went to go grab the milk for their cereal. He also grabbed a box of orange juice. “Had a good run?”

“Mmmmm-hmmm. Oh, your father got called into work, he won’t be home until four tonight.” Sheila replied as she brought the cupboard supplies to the table. She went back to the same cupboard for two glasses. When she came back, Zack was already at the table, pouring the cereal into the bowls. The two at in general comfortable silence, as Sheila read the flyers for the latest sale on groceries, while Zack acted like his younger self and read the comics. Sometime between his second and third bowl of cereal, a faint tune started to play out of nowhere.

“Is that your ACME cellphone going off?” asked Sheila without looking up from her flyers. She scribbled down something on a small piece of paper beside her.

“It is! Sorry! I’ll be right back!” Zack said and jumped up from his chair and ran to his bedroom. He followed the source of the noise to his bedside table where his ACME issued phone was flashing like an atomic light show. Noticing that the name “Yana” was appearing on the Caller ID, he pressed the TALK button and brought the phone to his ear.

“Milaya, kak ty?” he greeted warmly to his sweetheart.

“U menya net vremeni, chtoby obʺyasnitʹ vse,“ said Tanya, her voice sounded rushed, “Carmen, she took the ACME Tower, and it's possible that Chief Weller's granddaughter was taken with it.”

Zack’s face went from bright, warm and happy, to concern, shock, and fear.

"I think you should come down, da?"

“Zacky? Could you come over here for a second please?” came the voice of Mrs. Monaghan, her voice had the tone of question in it.

"That was Sheila?"

“Yep.”

“Ay. Tebya liubliu Zaychik moy.”

“Love you too Yana.”

He hung up. Zack grabbed a few things, mainly his wallet, his badge, an extra set of keys, the essentials. He also threw on a pair of socks. Zack walked back into the kitchen. He saw Sheila, reading the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle and even from the entrance of the kitchen, Zack could read the bold letters: ACME TOWER GONE MISSING.

“Was that why Tanya called you?”

Zack did a double take, “Yes… how did you…?”

Sheila laughed, “I’m a Mom, I can read your face, and I heard your Russian.”

Zack blushed as his response.

His mom placed down the newspaper, grabbed something from the table and walked up to him, handing what she had picked up to her son: His skateboarding helmet.

“They need you. Now go.”

Zack kissed Sheila one the cheek once more as a form of goodbye, and ran to the front door. He put on his skater shoes and helmet, grabbed his skateboard with the Element Quadrant deck and rand down his front steps. Once he hit the flat ground, he went on his skateboard and kicked off the pavement, gathering as much speed as he could.



Translations:

Milaya, kak ty = “Sweetheart, how are you?” (Russian)

U menya net vremeni, chtoby obʺyasnitʹ vse = “I don’t have time to explain everything” (Russian)

Tebya liubliu = "Love you." (Russian)

Zachick Moy = My Little Bunny (Russian - Needs Clarification)

 

[Narrator]

[Melissande]

Melissande, after a 2 week technologic hiatus in a remote Tibetan monastery, had finally returned to civilization. Not just any civilization, but one of her personal favorites: Austin, Texas. It wasn't exactly civilized, but had enough quirky charm to make up for what it lacked. (And cowboys were just, so.....ah. Exactly.)

As she sipped a beer in a hole-in-the-wall bar on 6th Street, she noticed a newcast about the disappearance of ACME headquarters. "Looks like I picked the better side..." she mused aloud.

The bartender glanced over at her, curious. She arched one eyebrow and he sheepishly turned back to polishing beer mugs.

The newscast continued. "Reports show that a child was inside the building when it vanished. No word yet on any ransom notices."

Melissande had heard otherwise in her short time back in the States. That was the problem with such a rough state as Texas; information was rather slow to reach the Lone Star state. One of her "birdies" sang the story to her as soon as her plane had landed.

Melissande kept her thoughts to herself this time. Wonder when I'll hear from anyone at VILE? She paid her tab and walked to her motorcyle. Good thing I had those two weeks of yoga calm, because I feel like things are about to get convoluted...

 

[Chief]

(Sorry this co-post took so long, with @Chase)


Chief Weller thought about his first impressions of Chase Devineaux, entering ACME as a Captain from the Marine Corps recently out of officer training. The professor wouldn't have picked him from a crowd; he had a face like any other restless young man, with near stereo-typical temperament. Few in that boardroom had seen him grown from an impulsive youth to the pragmatic leader he became, and Dr. Weller could not expect them to understand what a change it had been, or how proud he was of that evolution.

Quite surely, the Board had overreacted, but they must save face, if only internally.

Chief found Chase walking with a bag of personal gear towards the lockers. Even before the tower was stolen, some of the building's staff had taken spaces among the academy. A few detectives were given lockers, but the famed 11th floor, where the offices of International Cases were held, was yet to move out completely.

"Have they assigned a locker for you?" Dr. Weller asked casually.

"Temporarily," Devineaux held up a set of two identical keys with the labels 'R73' written on them in black ink, "I have news."

Chief Weller waited for the younger man to continue, holding firm the pipe in his mouth.

"She contacted me, told me we need to pick up Hailey at Sao Paulo, and she 'let' me trace her to Tunisia," Chase emphasized on the word 'let' as he discovered his locker and pulled open its door with some force, "I don't know for sure about the tower's location, but I know she wouldn't lie about Hailey."

Feeling both relieved and heavy-hearted, the professor sat down to consider the information he was given.

"I think you should lead a team to Brazil," the Field Director continued as he put his bag in front of the locker and began placing items for storage, "Hailey will be at Guarulhos International Airport 1900 hrs, local. That gives just enough time to gather some agents and do a fast briefing. I'd suggest Calina Corranos, Deric Storm, maybe Ivy, Zack…"

"I'll do that," Chief nodded, removing his pipe, "but there's something else I need to tell you."

With the difficulty Dr. Weller seemed to be having, Chase stopped to show full attention.

"The board thinks you should resign," Chief began slowly, "They're not officially asking, of course, they can't force you to leave--"

"But they need someone to pin this on," Devineaux interrupted, fueled by agitation, "and since I didn't follow the script, it's me." Briefly, Chase recalled the story of a double agent discovered by ACME several years ago. After severing ties with said agent, others were investigated, and acquaintances that knew of the mole's actions, were asked to sign papers of resignation due to personal reasons. Those who refused to sign were eventually fired, based on small rules such as improper conduct or remaining on company grounds after work hours. While this case wasn't about dishonesty, Devineaux felt similarly trapped.

"Take your time on this," Dr. Weller placed his pipe back between his teeth, "What's done is done, we now must worry about our immediate next steps."

"You need to worry about Hailey first," Chase sounded resolute despite his mind pulsating between several thoughts at once, "I'll take care of the tower."

A good leader knew when to press on, but a good friend also knew when to leave, and Chief Weller understood that there were other pressing matters to consider. He offered a handshake, Chase took it, and Dr. Weller began to leave.

"I don't know if I should take Deric Storm," Chief turned back to say, "He did make quite a scene earlier today."

"I'll talk to him," Devineaux replied, "but he's loyal enough to be let off with a warning. Your choice on suitability."

As ACME's current chief acknowledged the advice and left the area, Chase felt someone else in the room. Using a reflective metal sheet built into the locker's door, he positioned it to the doorway--where he spotted a familiar face in wire-rimmed glasses.

Shaking his head, he buried his attention again to the gear he was storing and said, "You been there long?"

 

[E. Mayhew]

(joint post, me and Chase)


“Long enough.”

It had been an exhausting day. An exhausting couple of days come to think of it. Luxembourg, a motorcycle chase, that god awfully tense plane ride, the tower being stolen, not to mention her personal troubles in rank. It would stand to reason, given these events and after a hot shower and change of clothing that Eleanor Mayhem should have been in bed by this point in time.

She wasn’t. There had been an honest attempt at getting to sleep, as her baggy workout pants, sweatshirt and sneakers made clear, but her mind had continued to buzz about unwilling to let her sleep. It wasn’t even the obvious troubles that had stirred her and caused her to head for the locker rooms where she knew Chase Devineaux would be by now. E was worried about him. Not a severe concern really. The word ‘worried’ almost seemed a bit extreme at the time she’d left her dorm but she wanted to make sure he was alright. Now, after arriving just in time to hear Chief’s conversation with Chase, it was almost as if ‘worried’ wouldn’t quite cover it.

“So... Tunisia, huh?” E asked softly. Slowly she made her way into the locker room, taking a seat on the end of one of the wooden benches by the lockers, her elbows going to her thighs as she took an informal position, as if she hadn’t just heard what the board of directors had ‘suggested’, as if nothing in the last 48 hours had happened. As if nothing in the last 6 months had happened.

Her gesture was appreciated, coming in here, ready to tell him things were right as ever. But Chase couldn't let himself feel secure under pressure. There were things he needed to discuss immediately.

"I've made a decision regarding your employment here," He began, "I don't see a reason for you to go back to Boston… but, I also don't see much of a reason for you to stay undercover. A good compromise would be to upgrade you, as Eleanor Mayhem, from Detective to Inspector. You'll have your own team, your own cases, you'll report directly to Chief," Devineaux paused as if waiting for her to interject, but he had already made his mind, "I'll send a proposal to Dr. Weller in the morning... if you agree."

E was silent for a moment. To the naked eye Mayhem had just failed at what she’d set out to do; becoming a special agent. Six months of training, bleached hair, name changes, learning a new accent, hiding behind the grease marks and the one piece coveralls had been slapped down with one sentence. She knew better. Promotion from Senior Agent to Inspector meant she got what she really wanted: a position in the San Francisco branch without sacrificing her rank from Boston.

“...Believe it or not I didn’t come for an answer about that.” she replied as she pushed a piece of bleached blond hair behind her ear. “But fine, I’ll bite. You know there hasn’t been an Inspector in this company since Chief Weller took over, right?”

"Good," Chase took everything she said as a positive answer. Shoving the empty bag into the locker and shutting the door, he pulled out the key systematically. "This is going to work to your advantage. You’re good with people, your talent’s wasted on being a recluse."

“Yeah, I guess.” There was a reluctance in her tone that seemed an odd fit considering the topic. A promotion like this was everything she’d been waiting for, this was the ACME equivalent of winning the Megabucks lottery. As he finished with his locker she watched him, leaning up from her comfortable position just a bit.

Naturally, when the room fell quiet, it signaled the end of a conversation and Chase would be more than happy to finish up and leave; but if experience taught him anything about women and their body language, this wasn't the time to wrap up.

"So, what's wrong?" he turned to her, putting the keys in his pocket.

E sighed heavily. “We both heard Dr. Weller...” There was another awkward pause, showing that finding the proper thing to say was coming to her with some difficulty until finally she blurted out her question. “You’re not actually planning on letting them pin this on you, are you?”

"Honestly, I'm not worried about that," but he was, and he was furious. Still, looking at this from a leader's perspective, he had to steer away from judging company politics, "First, I need to carry this through; then I'll deal with the higher ups." Chase looked her over and hinted for Eleanor to look at herself, "You need sleep; so do I. We should call it a night, and let's tackle this again in the morning."

Her eyes looked downwards at herself, giving herself a glance before she shook her head and looked back at him, her eyes looking straight into his steel ones. This was what he did. He was a leader, of course he was going to push back his personal needs to do what needed to be done. E respected him for it. It also made her that much more angry about what the board was trying to do.

“Chase. Promise me you’re not going to let them do this to you.” E could never claim she knew Chase well enough to figure out what his choices were but his methods were usually predictable. If he decided to let ACME’s board win he’d do it while no one was watching. “You can’t tell me I’ve just gotten everything I’ve wanted just to let one of the best parts of it leave like this.”

She was capable of caring a lot about people, and this was exactly why ACME needed E. Mayhem, unlike Chase, who was always hesitant about promises. Making them never led to any good.

“I’m still here, don’t start the ‘leaving talk’ yet,” he encouraged her, then changed the subject, “And you have plenty of work to do. Come on, I’ll walk you to the end of the hallway.”

The avoidance of a promise was worrisome but she nodded, raising slowly from her seat on the bench and slowly making her way towards the doorway, waiting for him to fall into step with her. It was late, she was tired. E wasn’t planning on letting this issue out of her line of sight, not by a long shot but she knew any attempt to say much more tonight would be a bad idea.

Leading her to the end of the hall, Chase appreciated the silence. His head was starting to hurt, but something else nagged at the back of his mind about the tower's location, about what Carmen had wanted…, and if she knew what she had taken--both physically and metaphorically. Then lawn lighting jarred from beyond, the tunnel was ending.

"Good night," he said at the end of the hallway, offering soon-to-be Inspector Eleanor a handshake.

E looked at the hand for a moment, then back up at him with a small smile. How anyone could go from telling her to go to bed one moment to offering something as impersonal as a handshake she could never tell. Clasping his hand with her right E leaned up on her tip toes and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Chase.” she replied before releasing his hand and heading for the dorms.

He couldn't argue; maybe it was a thank you, maybe she felt sorry for him, but it was nice--unexpected--but nice.

As she left, he took a step towards going home, when he remembered Eugene Grovington's message. The pilot would be helpful, and Chase decidedly made a B-line to the hangars.

 

[Sarah Nade]

"Ey.. yeh.. I can't talk long, Carmen's limiting signals coming in and outta this place," he looked at Hailey and hunched over the phone, "You saw the news, ah? That's how screwy this got. Take a flight now to Brazil, Carmen's orders, the usual bum at the airport's waiting for ya."

There was no time to confirm that she'd heard him or even agreed to head to Brazil. There didn't have to be. Sarah had her walking orders. Even half drunk with hair like a blonde zebra she knew her vacati- laying low was over. It was time to get back to work.

It only took 2 minutes to walk back to the club she'd so hastily left where one lone cab stood outside waiting to take the drunk and foolhardy home. Sarah slid into its back before the driver had even seen her and gave the door a slam.

"Where can I take ya, love?" the cabbie asked as Sarah reached into her inner jacket pocket, looking for a small notebook.

"The Mint Hotel Westminster." Sarah answered, shaking her head as she pulled items out of her jacket pockets, obviously not finding what she was looking for. "Mind if I smoke?"

"Not at all." the cabbie replied, grinning a bit.

"Good." Sarah answered, effortlessly pressing a cigarette to her lips and lighting it as she continued fiddling about. "How late are you on tonight?"

"This morning?" the cabbie corrected her. "I'm on until six."

"Even better." Sarah rolled down her window and, after taking a long drag off the cancer stick was considerate enough to blow the smoke out the window before flicking a bit of ash after it. "Once we get to the hotel I'll need you to stick around. I've got a plane to catch and I'll need a ride to the airport."

"Run into some trouble?" he laughed. Sarah gave a light chuckle. God did HE have no idea.

"Family emergency." she lied. "A HA!" With a wide grin Sarah pulled the notebook she was looking for out of the lower inside pocket of her jacket. "There you are." Fingers flipped her phone open as she took another drag and exhaled out the window as dialed and waited for the call to go through. If memory served she would be able to catch a flight out of London by 6:30 but who knew? The travel agent she was about to call might have something even sooner.

By 6:50am she was on a plane, under the false alias 'Hedda Lettuce', headed for Sao Paulo, Brazil, the only Brazilian airport that always had 'the usual bum' waiting for her. With a silent thankyou to the god who created earplugs a slightly hungover 'Hedda' arrived at the Guarulhos International Airport 12 hours later with the hood of a gray sweatshirt pulled over her head, designer sunglasses over her eyes, a hunched stance to her walk.

She'd spotted her contact who waited nonchalantly out of the way of the crowds. No effort to help her with her luggage or find her had been made. Once she'd found her leopard printed duffle in the checked luggage she silently approached, slinging her carryon backpack over her shoulder as she threw the 45 pound bag straight into her driver's gut.

"Lets get going [expletive deleted]." she said without so much as a proper hello, leading the way to his black jeep.

The hideout wouldn't take too long to get to, she could only pray that someone at the compound was smart enough to put on a pot of coffee.

 

[Flag]

((Anyone is totally welcome to message me if they want our character to rendezvous. I've got no plans at this point. ))

Flag liked to break stuff.

Although this was never documented in the dossier on him (previously sought out while waiting for Carmen to arrive) it should have been. In the past he had broken a number of things belonging to ACME. Most of them small, but considered very important.

This time his victim was a bit larger. It was about the size of a C5 console. In fact it was a C5 console and it was the size of a very large desk, surrounded by a couple of other very large "desks."

Upon arriving at their target destination, there had been some argument as to what they should do with such equipment. The hacker wanted it for his super computer. The guy that looked like a salesman wanted to use it as it was, but for nefarious purposes, and Flag wanted to break it because he was tired of people popping up whenever he just so happened to get recognized by a random hidden surveillance camera.

Because he had stayed behind when the others left the room, he won.

All it took accomplish his immediate goal was a large brick (graciously provided when the building "landed") and a large jolt of electricity (which was the only magic trick that he managed to figure out without hurting himself on this stupid planet) and it was done. The planned fire for the room full of physical records would take care of the rest later.

He had lingered in the background when Carmen arrived and discovered the child. He had disappeared shortly thereafter because he did not want anything to do with the little girl and could care less what happened to her.

Now, almost 16 hours later he was a large part through Algeria and on his way to a destination that Carmen had once expressed a particular affinity for, and had established a vacation resort of a safe-house at. This was not his initial idea for a destination after the heist - he intended to hit certain places in Egypt to further his research - but after his printed and now torched dossier informed him of where ACME expected to see him, he decided to venture elsewhere.

He was glad that he knew how to prepare for a long trip in a desert. Riding in the back of a pickup truck was not a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination, but it was far better than riding on the back of a Taratin for days in the middle of the Ogait back home.

He missed the news conference and he didn't understand what most of his companions said, but for the first time in a while, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

 

[Eugene]

(Joint post between Chase and I)

Before sunrise, ante meridiem, and Chase Devineaux was walking towards the hangers where he knew ACME's flight instructor and unofficial mission pilot was residing. Hours earlier, he had parted ways with Chief Weller, that conversation had left his head congested. Unable to think, he needed another point of view.

Entering the hanger, he headed to a small trailer, and on opening its doors, startled a sleeping trainee. After a few moments to recover, the boy had some sense to guess who was here and what he wanted.

"He's in the helicopter, sir."

Satisfied with the information, Chase headed to the only set of blades with enough room for a man to comfortably sleep in, and knocked on one of the windows.

The rapping on the helicopter window eventually stirred Eugene from a refreshing nap, although you wouldn't know it from his disposition. Casting a weary eye towards the source of the noise, he saw the Field Director silhouetted against the hanger lights. Recognizing Chase and his probable reasons for being here, Euge relaxed and moved to open the side door. "I take it there's been a development?"

Restless, and more than a little agitated, Chase paced in a compact lap outside the helicopter's door. When he was resolute about what to say to the pilot, he stopped to exhale.

"Chief Weller is leading a team to Sao Paulo, Brazil. VILE sent us a message that Hailey Weller will be there," he made a shrugging gesture as if he hardly believed the fact, "The tower is in Tunisia, Northern Sahara. I'm going to mobilize a ground team to check it out," he was talking about Mikal Darsha. Then after a longer pause, Devineaux crossed his arms, "This feels too easy."

"Whatever she wanted with the tower, she's probably already found it. All that's left for ACME to do is pick up the pieces," Euge said as he opened his flight bag. "If the tower is there, we should consider destroying it to deny them any more materials." Finding his cell phone, he glanced back at Chase, "How many are going to be on the Sao Paulo team?"

The words rang in his mind, did Euge just suggest destroying the tower? It was possible, and not a bad idea considering that repair wasn't an option. ACME's main building was removed, cut and torn from its foundation. Even if the building could be put in its exact former position, attempts to merge severed cement and steel would make the place a permanent danger zone.

"Four or five going to Sao Paulo," Chase answered, still thinking about the tower, "What kind of munitions would we need, assuming we choose demolition?"

Eugene considered the question for a moment. A team could go in and set demolition charges, but that would be no guarantee of sterilization of all sensitive materials. What they needed was a single strike that would leave nothing. The question stewed in his head while he sent instructions to the airfield to prepare a private jet for Dr. Weller and his team. Finally, inspiration struck. It would mean calling in several favors and then some, but the tower would be completely flattened. All it needed to proceed was the blessing of the Field Director.

"Last year, the CIA discreetly launched a satellite capable of dropping a tungsten rod the size of a telephone pole onto any target on earth, called it 'Rods from God.' It has a destructive yield of about two kilotons and can be targeted to within 20 feet. The building and all contents will be vaporized." Euge carefully omitted the payoffs and favors that would have to change hands. "The platform has an orbital period of about 100 minutes, and I'll need about an hour to get the permission to call it in." Eugene fixed Chase with a level gaze, waiting for his answer.

The detective received the pilot's information and thought heavily. Matching Eugene Grovington eye-to-eye made him more confident about the technique behind this mission, and it reminded him of his duty.

Despite ACME's higher powers asking him to resign, he felt a responsibility to make sure no one (else) compromises the tower. Once the building's location goes public, which was bound to happen soon, the area would be crawling with civilians.

"How much is this going to cost?" With the question, Chase already knew what he wanted. Everything functionally needed was already saved in ACME's new digital network, hard copies outside their secured environments must be destroyed.

Eugene bristled slightly at the mention of cost. No doubt he would be indebted to the US Government for quite some time with this stunt, even with all the good favor he had curried to date. "ACME? Nothing for now. However you will owe me a favor some time in the future."

It didn't seem entirely right, to initiate something for the greater good but then owe a favor like it was a personal agenda. But Chase could see Euge would be pulling a lot of strings--through what he could only guess were private contacts--and there was a level of respect Devineaux had for the pilot that he couldn't readily explain. Whatever thoughts ran through his head, the Field Director concluded by straightening his stance and offering Eugene Grovington a handshake.

"I can trust this 'future favor' to be something within my abilities?" He asked only rhetorically, because his actions affirmed what they both knew; to save ACME, its stolen tower had to be razed.

Eugene accepted Chase's outstretched hand; there was no turning back now. "Now what fun would life be without a few challenges?"

 

[Narrator]

[Rose of Pollux]

Agent Crystal Rose was baffled, having listened to the news conference.

"They took the ACME building...?" she muttered to herself. "Talk about insult to injury..."

What was the idea? Just to prove they could? Just to thumb their noses at ACME? Or did they actually intend to put the stolen ACME building to use.

She shook her head, calling her partner, Matt Neilson.

Whatever it was he decided to do, Crystal knew that she wanted to be a part of this case.

This time, it was personal.

 

[Narrator]

[Heartofstone]

Crystal quickly got a response.

"You calling about ACME's offices being stolen? I already know about it,"Matt replied from a f.y.e. store in a nearby mall.

One of the televisions in the store had the news blasting on.

"Jeez...I did not see this coming. It's one thing to just steal the information from inside the building. It's a whole other thing to steal the entire building!"

 

[Chief]

(I am continuing the main story, please continue with all sub plots.)


Chief Weller had a long talk with his wife, along with his son and daughter in law, Hailey's parents. No one was happy, and some wanted to come with him, but a grieving family was never a good thing to bring to a situation like this. Checking with the hangars, Dr. Weller was told that a fixed wing aircraft was ready for his use, so he did the next most logical thing, began sending a message to the lead detectives that would be accompanying him, Cali Corranos and Deric Storm.

"Pack up for Sao Paulo, Brazil, agents," he wrote, "You are allowed to bring along two more team members of your choice, but meet me at hangar 4 before 10.00 hrs for briefing on the way."

He packed Hailey's favorite stuffed animal, a cat or bear (Chief could never tell) that had a fake watch around its wrist. Some children at Hailey's age, can become fixated with certain objects: dolls, blankets, or pillows. Hailey Weller was attached to watches. She enjoyed their ticking, even though she could not tell time, and she would strap on one or more timepiece to her wrist before going out. In fact, she had slept with two of her favorites, a pink pony, and a Mickey Mouse watch, the night she disappeared. Dr. Weller could only imagine how VILE found his granddaughter. Perhaps they heard the ticking and thought she had been a bomb.

 

[Deric Storm]

(This post co-written by Chase, Calico & Myself)

Calina Corranos’ apartment, Room 427, Agent Residences
ACME Headquarters, San Francisco, CA

It was 7 AM, and Chase Devineaux was back on ACME compounds after a few hours of sleep and a decent breakfast. Reading the morning paper was difficult, and coming back to see the spot where the Tower once stood sent a pang to his chest. He hated the feeling.

Making his way to the door belonging to Calina Corranos, the Field Director knocked briskly.

Cali was awake when the knocking from the door came, but she was in the middle of another phone conversation. Her brother from Brazil called, one that used to work with ACME Agency, but he since left to work for Agência Brasileira de Inteligência, or the Brazilian Intelligence Agency, if you are speaking English.

Cali looked at Deric, to see if he had heard the knock.

Quickly swallowing the spoonful of cereal in his mouth, Deric got up and made his way towards the door. Perturbed at having his breakfast interrupted, the young man pulled the door open, intent on scaring the person on the other. His eyes went wide when he saw it was Chase Devineaux. He wondered if the look on Chase’s face meant his superior wasn’t expecting to see Deric in Cali’s apartment.

“Uhh... what’s up, boss?” Deric asked after a few awkward seconds passed.

Devineaux wasn't entirely surprised to see the agent from Nebraska. He had seen Calina leave with Deric yesterday, and the point of coming here was to see if she knew where her Irish-American friend might be. Now, he didn't need to ask.

"Storm," he greeted, then turned his attention to Cali, "you two have a minute?"

Cali spoke the goodbyes to her brother and hung up, if you understood Portuguese, you would have heard her say “I love you much, but my Director is here, it is looking serious.”

“Mr. Devineaux,” she said that in her accent, she never could pronounce it all together, it was easier to say “Devine” or “Vineaux” for her, so she ends up stretching the middle syllable of his name. She walked up next to Deric by the door because it was polite to welcome a visitor to your house like that.

“Come in and sit, would you like coffee?”

Deric stepped aside to let his commanding officer enter if he chose. Sitting back on the couch, he picked up the unfinished bowl and continued to eat breakfast. The young agent figured it was time for him to pay the piper for his fight with Lee Jordan. He hoped Cali wouldn’t get in trouble for dragging him away from the skirmish.

Chase entered the apartment and promptly shut the door behind him.

“This won’t take long,” he replied indirectly to the offer of coffee, “VILE wants to give Hailey Weller back. Their term is to deliver her at Guarulhos International Airport, Sao Paulo, Brazil.” When he said ‘Brazil’, he nodded to Cali. “I’ve suggested both your names to Chief Weller, who will be leading the case, but he had concerns about...,” here, Chase looked at the agent on the couch, “your behavior after the press conference yesterday.”

Deric quickly gulped down the cereal in his mouth as both Cali and Chase looked directly at him. “Uhm...” he coughed, trying to regain his composure, “all I can say is I’m sorry. I lost my composure. Cases involving kids get to me.”

Cali was beginning to feel she needed to apologize for Deric, but she did not think it was right at this time. “Will he be given second chance?” She asked, “for sure he is good to have for Chief’s case?”

Deric could have kissed his Brazilian friend at that moment. He figured that his commanding officer had come here to recruit Cali because the meet was in her ‘backyard;’ she knew the land and the language. He, on the other hand, was probably an undesirable right now due his actions at the press conference. Deric was about to plead his case as well when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket before it chimed “Message from StarFleet, Captain.” Fishing the phone out, he saw that he had received a text message... from the Chief:

Pack up for Sao Paulo.You are allowed to bring along two more team members of your choice, but meet me at hangar 4 before 10.00 hrs for briefing on the way.

“Well, I think this,” Deric said, tossing Chase the cell phone, “answers Cali’s question. Cali, you may wanna check...” he was interrupted by another chirping sound, “your phone.”

Chase caught the communicator and glanced at it with the usual quarter-smile and a nod. Returning the phone to Deric, he concluded to both agents, "You have a little under three hours, don't keep him waiting."

He could go on about how Storm should watch his temper, but this visit was more than enough for now. Chase could guide, but not command, and Deric looked like he was embarrassed enough to have done what he did in front of Cali.

While Chase answered Deric, Cali did check her phone. She had got the message from Chief too. She gave a little smile.

“I start packing now,” she said, “Thank you for coming, Director, can I walk you out?”

”Actually, Cali,” Deric said, getting up from the couch, “I’ll walk him out. I need to get some stuff from my place, anyway.” Putting the empty bowl into the sink, he grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door. ”Obrigado por... pequeno-almoço,” Deric said in stilted Portuguese as he hugged Cali and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, “See you at the hangar.”

Turning to his boss, Deric asked, “Ready, Chase?”

Devineaux confirmed with a gesture to let the younger detective lead. It wasn’t often that an agent took initiative to talk to their Field Director, and Chase felt the start of a conversation in Deric’s tone to Cali.

“Lee’s gone dark,” once outside, he told Deric in a lower voice, “I don’t think he’s going to file for assault, but I’m not sure what he’s up to, just keep a low profile until then.”

“I’ll try,” Deric said, trying to keep his cool, “but I still think he might have had something to do with the Tower’s disappearance.” Glancing around, he decided to get to the point. “Listen, about earlier, the fight was my fault and my fault alone. I don’t want Cali to get in trouble for helping me out of there.” Deric knew Cali had forgiven him, but that didn’t mean he had forgiven himself for crossing a line that never should have been approached.

Listening to the detective, Chase understood why he would choose to protect the bomb expert. It was a decent form of projection. Keep the girl in your life safe, and anything else that happen to you won't be so bad. While this may be the thought of a good man, it wasn't always the mindset of the clearest thinkers.

"Cali will be fine," Chase assured. Having worked with Corranos, the Field Director trusted in her ability to handle herself, "But you need to focus on the facts: Without hard evidence, you assaulted an informant. From now on, accusing Jordan of anything is going to look bad--for you."

They were now roughly half way down the hall, and after delivering his reminder, Devineaux moved to the more important question, "What makes you so sure he had something to do with the tower?"

At this rate, things may add up. Lee spent months in Luxembourg before noting Eartha's location; leading to the abduction of Phoenix, and the most elaborate blindsiding in VILE's history.

“I spoke to one of the techs before the presser,” Deric said, feeling a little better. “He said the only way someone could get access to the C-5 would be if someone gave them the access.” The more he thought about it, the more it had to be an inside job. “Lee was one of our best agents, but has shown that he can’t be trusted. I figured that he sold a copy of the access codes to Carmen.”

The surveillance cameras and any other security records were taken with the building. When Deric mentioned ‘inside job’, Chase agreed, but for different reasons. Carmen Sandiego had been in his office the morning before he left for Europe. Hours later, they crossed paths in Luxembourg. While he was sure the security code used for access wasn’t his, or he would have been notified, and that risk was something too careless for the thief to consider, he knew her presence meant trouble. He should have acted... could have... but did not.

“Security codes for high level access change every 24 to 48 hours via satellite,” Chase explained, “Lee couldn't have done it even if he wanted to, he’s only a class 2 informant.”

Stating that eliminated Jordan from the quickly growing list in his head of suspected moles. Carmen didn't work alone, there must have been a team of her minions crawling in and around ACME building up until it was taken. One of them should squeal.

Looking at his watch, Deric figured he had enough time to get back to his apartment, grab his gear and be at the hangar an hour before the briefing. However, he didn’t know who else to call to join the team. Chief’s message stated that they could bring two other agents. Looking at Chase, he asked “Any suggestions on who to put on the team?”

Pausing to shift gears from one thought to another, Chase replied, "Off the top of my head, the newer agents could use some field experience; Diana Crawfeldt, Gunnar Svensson, Abby Thorn... Nevon Blair, if you need entertainment. Judging from Chief's message, he's handing you and Cali the supervising role. You'll want to use agents as lookouts, spotters, get them to work as a team. Not too bad for a retrieval mission."

“I’ll keep those in mind.” Deric responded. “Actually, I was thinkin about bringing a medic as well. We don’t know the condition of the kid. She might need attention.”

“Good call,” Chase agreed, “send out a request to the Medical Center... or,” he did talk to a doctor only yesterday, “Sophie Conrad, she just got back from Luxembourg, if she’s not taking a leave, she might be your most ready medic.”

“I’ll get on that,” Deric said, reaching for his phone, “Uhm, do you have her number?”

“First time needing a medic?” the Field Director retrieved his communicator and sent a code to Storm’s phone, “That’s Medical Dispatch, your Supervisor level for this case should put you through to any doctor you need. Use wisely.”

”I’m not real comfortable with hospitals, but thanks.” Deric proceeded to call the dispatcher, who passed along the request to Dr. Conrad.

The end of the hall was near, and it seemed like a good time to close, "For what it’s worth, we think we have the tower’s location," Devineaux breathed for a moment, "Stay on Hailey's case, we'll talk more when I know more."

 

[Lee]

(Mates, to understand this post, you should skim over this RP, Roll With It, written by Carmen, Sarah, Vic, and Chase. They were nice enugh to write an entry for my canon, ai, but I never got to use it. So I'm writing something to link.)

Lee Jordan kicked up dust with his worn boots and reached slowly into his jacket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He was alone in a North American desert, and in front of a trashed Chevrolet Corvette. An old buddy told him where they thought it was, and the car wasn't dumped far from the road, so it didn't take long to find.

The dark Corvette looked like it'd been here for months, left to the elements. The once shiny black finish was scraped and sanded, and the license plates were the only things that identified it.

Holding the cig in his mouth, Jordan bit harder when he saw an item left behind by the only culprit he blamed. Carmen's red trench coat, chalky and sun faded, clung to the car's tan leather driver seat. He had those seats custom made. Now, when he needed to smoke most, he felt through his pockets, but couldn't find a single lighter. In frustration, he shouted and kicked a nearby rock into the distance. When he calmed down, he sat on the hood of the car.

The sun was setting and it made him think. All he'd done amounted to him being an ACME informant. Only an informant. While most everybody knew about Lee's rivalry with Carmen, few people knew what he really thought of Chase Devineaux. ACME's Field Director, and the few conversations they had, impressed Jordan more than he'd admit. But even if he considered the man a father figure, he'd be far from Devineaux's ideal son, so Lee never bothered indulging the thought. He just let it festered, getting angrier every time it crossed his mind.

Deciding that he had more to prove, Lee Jordan searched through his own car. Among the shattered glass and twisted metal, Lee saw a glimmer of hope, the key was still in the ignition. Clearing away debris and sitting down, he twisted it. The engine stubbornly started. Once it did, he got to use the car's cigarette lighter. Things were looking up, and with less than half a tank of gas, Lee Jordan took his Corvette to the nearest stop.