Archived La Vie de Luxe

[Lee]

Lee came to accept that he needed help when he couldn't see or hear the Ducati any more.

Taking out his communicator, he said, "Hey, I'm stuck... in the valley under some bridge here... She went towards Ville Haute. I think. Can somebody hurry up and come get me?"

 

[E. Mayhew]

Lee said: "Hey, I'm stuck... in the valley under some bridge here... She went towards Ville Haute. I think. Can somebody hurry up and come get me?"

"I'm on the bridge en route to Villa Haute." Missy chimed back into her wired mouthpiece, trying to report in over the sound of the YamahaFJR1300 she was weaving between cars with only moderate success. She raised her head a bit higher as she neared the end of the bridge and started to enter the area in question, eyes peeled for the woman in black on the red Ducati.

"I'd love to know who decided to trade the BMWs Europeans had in their police forces with Yamahas... I feel like I'm going to break this thing." she mused softly, her paused bike now holding up the traffic behind her as she still looked for the figure.

Finally spotting her target Missy lowered herself to her handlebars again, her hands twisting the accelerator.

"Target spotted... in pursuit."

 

[Chase]

Chase wasn't surprised when Lee Jordan failed to maneuver the smaller Ducati out of the side streets and onto paved roads. Despite Jordan having been a former agent, he wasn't one now for a good reason. Lee was somehow only capable of making irrational decisions.

Lee said: "Hey, I'm stuck... in the valley under some bridge here..."

Of course you're stuck, Chase thought, you went down there with a Suzuki Bandit.

Lee said: "She went towards Ville Haute. I think."

'She'?

Lee said: "Can somebody hurry up and come get me?"

"Yeah," Chase breathed, connecting to the on-site doctor, "Sophie, if you're around, head to the valley under Pont Adolphe. Agent Jordan's location is marked on your overhead map. It's a small trail, be careful."

Missy said: "I'm on the bridge en route to Ville Haute."

Ducatis were fast, manageable, and extremely versatile motorcycles; perfect in a city straddled over several valleys and outcrops. Whoever was riding that thing wasn't planning to stay on the roads.

With the ACME communicator, Chase drew an imaginary path from Am Tunnel in Gare to Ville Haute -- passed Pont Adolphe and the Pétrusse -- the most logical direction after that was the city center, or further north-west into Limpertsberg.

Missy said: "Target spotted... in pursuit."

"Missy," he instructed, "head down Boulevard Royal and cut her off before she takes a side road towards the Center. If you make her go north, Euge can get better visual."

At about this time, two Luxembourg Police officers arrived in response to ACME's initial request. They had worked with the company before.

"Pourrait-on fermer les routes?" one asked with a margin of German in his French.

"Pas besoin," Chase replied, "We're not chasing a murderer, and I only need this one for questioning." Now that Lee was down, and El Halcon had gone after Eartha, Devineaux acted as Missy's backup by default. "What's the best way to get around the city center from here?"

Down Avenue de la Gare, si vous voulez, a tunnel goes straight north. And if you not want the circulation [traffic]," The officer pointed to his left, "there is l'écurie de la Gendarmerie here, take a horse, you get anywhere in Luxembourg five minutes or less."

Horse..., Chase considered, he hadn't been on anything equestrian since he was 19, but a Gendarmerie-trained horse could also take him all the way up to The Bock and areas of Grund district much easier than any motorcycle. Without hesitation, he nodded in agreement.

 

[Vic]

Somewhere in San Francisco:

Vic "The Slick" Fumigalli got news from Eartha Brute all the way somewhere outside of Luxembourg City that the team in San Francisco was ready and waiting for him. All other plans, she said, were cancelled.

Being the nervous man that he was, Vic told Dragon, then his tag-along partner, to go low, and if possible, come for a meet up later. For now, he was rushing to California.

As soon as he landed, the grifter went to the luggage claim and found a briefcase with his fake name and registration number. VILE's lackeys were good at little details, he didn't have to pack a thing. Inside the case was a smart phone, two temporary SIM cards, and a micro SD card with what Vic figured everything he'd need for this mission.

Under all that electronic was some cold, hard cash, and a debit cash card with a note that said, "10+90K. Use wisely. --CS"

The cash made him feel better, but Vic wasn't anything like Carmen when it came to teasing the enemy. He hated being close to the eagle's den, if ACME could be compared to an eagle, and he preferred to be as safe and hidden away as possible. Like always, he was already fidgety.

He turned on the phone and the first message that popped up was "Partner with Flag."

Lucky for Vic, this Flag was in the mobile's list of contacts. So, he sent a text.

"It's Vince, in town, text me with a time and place, let's kick this thing started."

 

[Sophie]

As the events between the yet-unidentified Carmen Sandiego and the determined Lee Jordan unfolded, Sophie Conrad cruised down Rue de Chimay heading towards Avenue Marie-Thérèse, the grand steeples of Notre Dame in sight. To make the ACME communicator easier to read, she had perched it onto the dashboard before her.

The request to pick up Lee Jordan surprised Sophie even as she knew it to be completely rational. Everyone else was concentrated on chasing the unidentified motorcyclist and she was the least involved member of ACME proximally available. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel of the Smart Fortwo, she used her other hand to fiddle with the communication device.

Her acknowledgement was crisp: “Je l’comprends, M. Devineaux.”

Somewhere at the back of her mind, a thought disturbed her. Everyone else was concentrated on chasing the unidentified motorcyclist. Was there something else they were missing? Remembering, very briefly, a ruse expounded in the Thirty-Six Stratagems, Sophie frowned.

Make a sound in the east, then strike in the west.

However, as she negotiated another junction, Sophie very quickly pushed her worries away. The over-analysis of events occurring a few streets away was not what she was here for and it was certainly not in her job description to interfere with the doings of the ACME detectives already on the ground.

Finding Lee on the communicator, she continued, “Hang in there, Mr. Jordan.”

The historical Adolphe Bridge spanned the valley of Pétrusse at a height of forty-two metres. When it was erected in the very-early 1900s, it was a wonder for the sheer size of its stone arches. As she turned onto the historical site, Sophie pondered how she might enter the valley below. Then, she grinned as the cheerful blue of a vel’oh! station came into sight a short distance away.

After having slid the Smart smoothly into a parking space near the southern end of the bridge, where it met the Boulevard de la Pétrusse, Sophie took a few moments to gather her belongings.

Extracting a small black-coloured duffle bag from the luggage compartment of the city car, she stuffed her passport, the ACME communicator and her ACME ID into one of its side pockets. The touch tablet was shut down and slipped under the passenger seat.

Procuring a bicycle from the vel’oh! terminal was a breeze and it was only a bit over ten minutes after first receiving the order to pick up Lee Jordan that Sophie found herself deftly manoeuvring her way down towards the Pétrusse viaduct. She was in no hurry. Hurrying distracted her and would attract unwanted attention.

In the basket at the front of the bicycle, the black-coloured duffle sat. On an inconspicuous corner of the nylon bag, in gold embroidery, was a two-inches tall caduceus – the only indicator of the duffle’s contents.

As Lee had not sounded in need of medical attention, she had been initially hesitant to carry the kit out of the Smart. Then, she remembered the smiling hulk of a man who had walked into her consult in the Emergency Department of MassGen, a little more than two years ago. He had perched himself onto a chair before her and had cheerfully chatted for a full five minutes. When she lifted his shirt to examine him, she found a blade embedded six inches deep into his abdomen.

Having memorised Lee’s location, Sophie made her way calmly and carefully towards the demarcated spot without having to refer back to her communicator. She found the man damp and annoyed, stuck under the impatient rumble of his Suzuki, and recognised him from the photograph in his ACME file.

Swinging off the seat of her bicycle, she smiled at him and did a quick and surreptitious visual assessment of him and his environment.

“Hello, I'm Sophie Conrad - from the ACME Medical Centre. Are you all right?”

Then, she bent over and turned off the engine of the motorcycle that had him pinned.

“Come on, Mr. Jordan, give me a boost,” she said as she gripped the handlebars of the two-wheeler with both hands and pulled it off the man and into an upright position.

 

[Flag]

The grunge band look certainly had it's advantages in a facility where student reigned supreme. This is of course was referring to the smaller building that housed the ACME students in their respective dormitories. He didn't yet dare make his way toward the complex proper, where everyone was expected to either be in uniform or in business attire.

His purpose for choosing this building was because the maintenance staff for the ACME complex had an on-call office located here for the overnight hours, when any number of things could lead to emergency repairs. Previous investigations revealed that this was locked and unobserved during the daylight hours.

As he made his way to the small office, he remembered his now ex-informant commenting on how "cruddy" the lock on the door was. His explanation for that was "Prolly because nobody cares about a janitors office." This statement was probably why Flag was rather surprised to find not only the door unlocked, but that the room was occupied.

The young couple screamed at him about his intrusion as they dove behind the desk. A moment later they ran out of the room past him, leaving a rather confused Flag standing in the doorway. This momentary lack of action on his part could have been devastating in any other situation, but not one bit of attention was paid towards the recent commotion. A fact that he decided to take mental note of as he kick-started his senses and and locked the door behind him.

Before he even bothered to look for keys or a uniform in the small, windowless room, he sifted through the paperwork that was stacked on the desk. The first big problem with pretending to be member of the maintenance staff was the staff itself. If he didn't have the right lies prepared his cover would be blown the moment that he came upon another janitor, which was a distinct possibility for a company this size.

This short investigation revealed that a gentleman by the name of "Renard" was to be transferring from another district in about a week. This information was good enough for Flag. He would pretend to be the new employee and would explain that the moving process (which the paperwork said was the holdup) went a lot quicker than he expected. The only person that he would have to worry about running into was the supervisor that would approve such a schedule change.

Now that the easy part was over he searched for a set of keys. After about an 35 minutes of sifting through drawers, he found a single key that opened a lock-box at the back of the room. This in turn revealed three sets of keys, which would unlock all of the storage closets and classrooms in the complex. He couldn't find anything that would grant him access to anything with a higher security level, but he wasn't going to complain.

The last thing that he would have searched for was obviously not going to be found from the beginning. As soon as the young lovers left the room he could see that the maintenance staff was responsible for washing it's own clothes and thus there were no uniforms or lockers in the room. This meant that he would have to hit the uniform store - an establishment that he only knew of because he overheard the complaints of two medical students at a restaurant - to pick one up.

Afters snagging Renard's patch from the cork-board by the door, Flag left the tiny office and made his way back towards to public entrance of the ACME complex. It was at this point that he felt the phone go off in his pocket. In a move that made him look more like a student with a day off, he pulled the device out and read the text now displayed on it:

"It's Vince, in town, text me with a time and place, let's kick this thing started."

Rounding the corner that separated ACME from the street he paused to text back a response and remembered how much he hated doing this supposedly simple act. He'd press some buttons and then a word that he didn't want would insert itself automatically onto the screen. He would then attempt to delete it, but because he couldn't remember what served as the "backspace" button, he would accidentally shut off the text application. Eventually he just gave up and called, leaving a voice mail when "Vince" didn't answer (or maybe he did answer. Flag didn't really care).

"Banner Uniform Center. One Hour."

He clicked the phone shut and crammed it in his pocket. He hated these devices, but they came in handy more often than he wanted to admit. At least this time around he didn't have to use it to try and find a map to his destination. His casual act of sight-seeing had already informed him of where it was. The only concern that he had at this point was if he would recognize his newly acquired accomplice.

 

[Carmen]

The remainder of the Ducati's trip through Pétrusse valley was rather pleasant, but too quiet. At intervals, the hum of that irksome helicopter acted as reminder that hunters awaited her exit beyond the trees. The pilot was good, she noted, as he made efforts to be less detectable. Impressive were ACME's upgrades since the return of their Field Director, this only made her plans all the sweeter.

As she severed her way through the woods and into the district of Ville Haute, the rider veered up to a busy road, only to discover that a speeding police motorcycle had her targeted. The standard-issued Yamaha carried a woman who was either an out-of-uniform Luxembourg officer, or an ACME agent. Carmen preferred the later, as the former would merely waste her time.

"Gresser," she called the codename of her closest backup, "As-tu le faucon?"

After a buzz and a click, Gresser replied, "Aa... oui, et dans une cage, pourquoi?"

"Bien," she playfully replied, "Suivez-moi." Her henchman's new task was to follow with Chase's abducted bird safely in its cage, and to watch for her signal.

 

[Lee]

Lee Jordan didn't hear the "hang in there, Mr. Jordan" that the doctor sent to him. Instead, after transmitting his statement, the agent's communicator slipped off his wet hands and fell into the stream. It slipped under the rear wheel of the motorcycle and got caught, and it was probably in pieces by now. Lee had been about to tell the team he thought the Ducati was Carmen Sandiego, and then this doctor showed up.

Sophie said: “Hello, I'm Sophie Conrad - from the ACME Medical Centre. Are you all right? ... Come on, Mr. Jordan, give me a boost.”

Lee grumbled and helped her get the Suzuki off him. "Be careful," he said, "this thing's going to cost me."

When he tried to get up, it hurt, and Lee started cursing... a lot. The rocks were slippery, and the weight of the motorcycle had scraped his left leg. Probably nothing bad at all from a medical view point, but that didn't stop Lee from making a big deal.

"What took you so long?" He took it out on the doctor, "I can't put any weight on this leg. And you brought a bike?"

 

[Vic]

Fumigalli was a good Fixer. Fixers were people that got things, set up things, "fixed" things so that the rest of the team can function. He was the guy people went to with a shady "shopping list" of equipment for a heist, and he was the guy with most of the contacts.

Vic got Flag's message and set his watch. One hour.

During the first 15 minutes, he spent looking through the SD card the VILE mission team arranged. The money he got from Carmen, he knew would have to be answered for. They weren't for fun spending, they were for tidbits that he'd have to manipulate for this thing. It was also plenty, for a guy with a name like Vic the Slick.

After memorizing all the instructions, the conman started looking up old friends in the area. Some were also "fixers", that were going get him everything else he needed, while others were "insiders" and "friends of friends" willing to help.

The next few minutes were spent calling and arranging to see who can do what, and the rest of the hour was Vic distributing his funds. The conman arrived on time at the Banner Uniform Center ready to support his new partner, Flag. This was the second partner Carmen had set him up with, in two days. The first was Dragon, a wild girl with fangs and claws.

He texted Flag: "At BUC, wearing orange leather hat."

 

[Sophie]

Sophie arched a brow but said nothing as Lee spluttered from profanity to condemnation. In this manner, she continued to consider him, even when he lapsed into silence, and allowed that silence to grow into discomfort. From the bridge above, the sound of moving traffic flooded the environment, dulled only by the tree canopy. She pondered the irony of his latter words. He, too, had brought a bike (albeit a decently motorised model) – and if his current temper was any reflection of his riding, she understood, with some sympathy, why he had landed up in his current state.

Then, with perfect calmness, she said: “Why don’t you take a seat on that boulder over there---” she nodded towards a large rock less than two metres away and offered Lee a hand “---and let me have a look at your leg?”

 

[Lee]

Lee sneered, hobbling to the stone with Sophie's help. Unlike a few other agents, he didn't mind doctors, medics, and hospitals so much. They were always good for something, and he kind of liked the attention. But this case was different. He could have been chasing Carmen.

"Can you hurry up?" He asked when he remembered that he was after Carmen and Chase should know, "That woman, the unidentified motorcyclist, I think it's Carmen Sandiego. We have to tell Chase so he can get more agents on this."

 

[E. Mayhew]

Chase said: "Missy," he instructed, "head down Boulevard Royal and cut her off before she takes a side road towards the Center. If you make her go north, Euge can get better visual."

"I hear you." she muttered in a positive tone as she concentrated on the roads ahead of her, swerving between two cars as Missy's eyes took in the location. The centre of the city was to the east; if she were the woman in black instead of the ACME agent on the Yamaha that would be where she'd want to be headed. Meaning that, logically, now was not the time to give her the chance to do so.

With a hearty rev of her engine the motorcycle lunged forward, quickly making up space and time lost by not being on the thief's rear since the chase started. After a number of loud honks from the cars she was now eagerly cutting off she turned on the motorcycle's police lights, hoping not only that they might deter people from trying to, you know, drive on the roads. Or at least in roads she was currently occupying.

So focused was she on the red motorcycle in front of her Missy was a bit slower to notice the second motorcycle joining the first.

"She's not alone." Missy reported over her microphone. "I think she's got a backup..."