Advanced Ultramarine

[Patty]

The Valkyrie watched that little sub fall, she watched it spin, then she watched it crash inside the blue bubble. She saw the lead MAMBA risking it all in an attempt to keep the little craft afloat, but it failed.

"Holy sh*t," she whispered quickly under her breath. She couldn't save them. The blonde eyed that monitor. The MAMBA, both sections, hovered silently above the wreck like two albatross parents waiting for their off-season chick to get back up.

"We would have been compromised if we didn't let them go," he said without really attempting to reason with her.

Slowly, the Valkyrie's head turned to her mentor.

He was guiding the submarine towards openings under the bubble. Beneath the city were caverns with rays of light showing where there were breaks in the air pocket above.

"Watch the right," he ordered and as they passed an overhanging rock.

The way he talked, it was as if he’d been here before. It was eerie for the blonde, but she shook off the thought. He had sonar feedback and external info, so of course he knew where to go.

Something inky covered the cameras for a moment, and then they came back into startlingly clear waters. The Orca broke through a surface, and the monitors turned white before adjusting to show a completely surrealistic landscape.

No one spoke, the fact that they surfaced but was still thousands of feet under the ocean boggled the minds of even the most experienced of them. Still, if the Professor felt any awe, he wasn’t showing it. His mind was already on something else.

The MAMBAs didn’t follow them to this docking position, meaning they found another place to surface, maybe even somewhere better. The Valkyrie watched her mentor shift through monitors to try find Carmen’s team, and when he couldn’t, he acted like he didn’t care.

Then he turned to her.

“Valkyrie,” his summoning was familiar but still chilling under the circumstances, “Pick one.”

A selection of weapons was presented to her, underwater weapons with limited dart-looking-bullets for munitions. Glancing at the mentor, she could see he was carrying a dart-rifle and of course his trusty bowie knife was tucked to his belt.

She shrugged and grabbed what looked lightest, a pistol of some kind, and hooked it to the pouch she stole from Joe Kerr. Under these pressures maybe she’d have to do a test shot or two to get used to the gun. If she refused a weapon, she’d be yelled at, then she’d fight back and this would take longer than usual.

Once she was armed, Maelstrom ordered the door unlocked.

The hatch opened with a mild hiss and cool air rushed in. There was a scent, like a vibrant dawn after a night of rain, but without the light of the rising sun. Gripping the ladder with her tactical gloves, the blonde was the first to climb out of the Orca. Her boots tracked the wet metal surface until she could jump onto black gravel. Looking around, she could see the distant arch of the bubble and blue-green bioluminescent lights from unknown sources. It was another world, another ozone layer… deep undersea.

The team behind her would start heading towards the temple, a towering structure immediately in view. Being Valkyrie, her job wasn’t to make sure the environmentalists got their goal, it was to make sure her mentor got his. Even with the amount of times she disagreed with him, she had to count her options. If her co-conspirators in the prisoners’ submarine were all incidentally deceased, then her only ticket out was the Professor… or Carmen Sandiego. Not wanting to resort to working with the party she so painfully left (VILE, if you’ve been following) it was in her best interest to get to the wreck of that little yellow sub.

 

[Carmen]

[Cowritten by Carmen/Ivy]

Captain Meiru Basra at the helm of the lead MAMBA guided three crafts towards a safe opening. Her co-pilot, an infamous but misapprehended woman, read the charts and made the final call. To their surprise the ‘docking’ area seemed constructed for underwater crafts to surface. Remnants of stone piers and decks reached out from solid ground into the water, supported by alien architecture.

Once all three crafts were safe to disembark, the first MAMBA released its hatch, both the second section and the TUNA followed suit.

From their position, the towering temple was in full view, and Basra could already see her boss formulating plans.

First out of the MAMBA was Carmen Sandiego, and first from the silver ship was fittingly Ivy Monaghan.

“Commander,” the thief nodded, and as they moved closer, offered a handshake.

While Ivy had her ups and downs dealing with VILE, any time her paths crossed directly with Carmen Sandiego, the dialog had always been one of respect. Now, as she studied the other woman, she wondered more than ever what was under her calm demeanor.

“Carmen,” Ivy reciprocated with a steady handshake. As she looked over who else was here, she could clearly see ACME among VILE, and she sighed internally. Well, at least that part is completed, as Rosen ordered, she was here to help Eugene Grovington find Chase Devineaux, “My team,” she continued, “Deric Storm, and Nevon Blair.”

“You’ve met Captain Meiru Basra,” Carmen added, “this is Neb and Dr. Gasand, standing with Eugene Grovington is Captain Vause and Co-Pilot Mbasha.”

Ivy Monaghan looked through the live roster considered 'VILE's side' and couldn't help feeling figuratively awed, a bit. They looked well prepared, even the ones that stole a flight out of ACME Airbase.

 

[Neb]

Despite the situation at hand, once she was certain the ACME agents from the smaller submersible were going to behave themselves, Neb’s attention left the group for the world they now inhabited.

“What in the hell?” she murmured as she walked to the edge of the ravine they’d docked in.

Before her spread a city. An entire city, in a breathable bubble, hidden within a mountain, under thousands of feet of water. It was large enough to support a population of thousands, but nothing moved within the indigo glow cast by the massive, bioluminescent sphere overhead.

 

[Nevon]

In the end, they did ‘dock’ and they did have to leave the TUNA. Nevon Blair held his breath when he first exited the ACME submarine, but seeing as he wasn’t the first to notice that his STUN suit stated he was in breathable air, he took a deep inhale.

The air was salty but surprisingly not confining.

Disappointment flashed across Nevon’s face when he noticed it wasn’t Chase that greeted them. But that disappointment wavered when the woman spoke, and disappeared completely when the commander said ‘Carmen’.

Oh ok…

 

[Deric Storm]

As soon as the TUNA docked inside the bubble, Deric unfastened his harness and grabbed his gear. He had only half heard snippets of the conversation Ivy had with the other ship while assisting with the docking procedure, but he had clearly heard that Devineaux was on the sub that crashed into the ocean floor. The sooner they dealt with the team on the VILE sub, the quicker they could hopefully attempt a rescue and not a recovery.

‘Hopefully El Jefe’s luck holds out a little longer,’ Deric thought, checking the sub’s atmospheric readings. The air was thinner than it would be on the surface, but it was still breathable. When the hatch opened to the outside, the sensors in his STUN suit confirmed the previous readings.

Following his commander out of the sub, his attention was captured by a gasping sound behind him. Deric gave a sideways glance to the third member of their party and had to fight the urge to facepalm. Returning his gaze forward, Deric marvelled at the setting he found himself in. For all intents and purposes, Deric felt like he was staring at the stereotypical Atlantean myth of an ancient city below the waves. It looked like many ancients cities, built into the terrain of a hill or mountain, all of it preserved inside the massive air pocket. Even the air seemed ancient, hence the somewhat stale taste mixed with salt.

Taking a position to the right behind Ivy, he studied the group approaching them. Of the seven people approaching, Deric only recognized two. One was, of course, Eugene Grovington.

‘One down, two to go,’ Deric thought.

The other was the small grey haired woman whom Deric recognized from the last time ACME and Vile joined forces at Torun Zamok but, for the life of him, could not remember her name. In fact, Deric couldn’t even remember if she had spoken once the entire time their two organizations worked together last. But that had felt like a lifetime ago, so who knew.

A somewhat familiar brunette woman separated from the group and approached Ivy. She greeted Ivy, offering her hand, which the redhead took saying ‘Carmen.’ Deric’s eyebrows almost went over the top of his head in surprise.

‘Great googly moogly,’ Deric thought. ‘The Red Queen herself. This just got extremely interesting.’ Something must have gone sideways, because Deric knew Chase had been after Carmen for years, almost to the point of obsession. There’s no way he would allow her to be in a separate vehicle if he had her in custody.

Deric gave a two fingered salute to the group when Ivy introduced him and Nevon. Once the introductions had been made, Deric felt a little impatient. “Glad to meet everyone,” he blurted out. “So, what are we going to do about the downed sub? I don’t think AAA works out here.”

 

[Ivy]

[Cowritten by Ivy/Carmen]

Introductions aside, Ivy nodded in agreement to Deric’s nudge to move forward, she was anxious to get started.

“Our prerogative is the Director of Operations,” she spoke to Carmen specifically, “ACME will be heading to the crash site.” But she wasn’t heartless and she knew from shared intel that Devineaux wasn’t the only one in the yellow submarine.

“I think one of yours should come with us, in good faith,” Ivy suggested, “I’ll trade you Nevon Blair.”

Carmen smiled reflectively, having predicted this scenario. She would wish to go herself, if only to know definitively of any survivors, but there was a time for discovery and a time to delegate.

“Neb,” she called towards her follower, “you’ll be heading to the submarine. Bring them home for me, please.”

On cue, Wali Gasand, the Rwandan henchman who had been monitoring VILE’s tracker since it landed at the crash site, handed his unit to Neb. The screen clearly displayed a static void with estimated distance and direction towards a blinking green blip.

Monaghan raised an eyebrow, she thought the Lady in Red was coming herself, but maybe she’s misjudged this thing ex-partners have.

“All right,” the Commander started to move, “let’s head out. Lead the way, Neb.”

 

[Neb]

[Cowritten by Neb/Carmen/Nevon]


Neb’s eyes opened wide as the tracker was placed in her hands and she looked up at her boss.

Carmen returned the silent glance, but said nothing.

At first when Commander Monaghan talked about an exchange, Nevon thought it was a great idea. They should keep tabs on the other team, and Mr. Storm was the best Action-Detective for that role. But then he heard his name and got confused. Maybe the the tougher job was finding the downed submarine, and Nev’s go-with-the-flow style of sleuthing was better for following… Carmen Sandiego?

That can’t be right.

But when he opened his mouth to say something, the conversation had already moved and he was left standing between two diverging teams.

The Master Thief’s newly appointed shadow was loath to leave Carmen’s side in such a situation, with an ACME she didn’t know, no less. But the decision had been made. She frowned, then with an air of authority she strode up to the chosen ACME and inspected him.

The agent took a moment but stood still when the woman called Neb came up to study him.

Nevon Blair was short for a man, with dark hair and blue eyes that held an unusual amount of innocence for someone in this game; stun suit, weapon and all. She’d probably looked very much the same to his commander once upon a time. Neb exhaled internally. The man was most likely harmless.

He wanted to say hi or something, but with grim expressions all around, it didn’t seem all that appropriate.

With as much satisfaction as she was going to get, Neb returned to Carmen on the preface of reporting her findings, but instead serendipitously slipped her hand into hers. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered as she squeezed it.

In exchange for that reassuring gesture, Carmen gripped and released Neb's arm as the two parted ways. What she wanted to do and what needed her focus were desynchronized. A part of her relished this discovery while the more sensible notion was to leave as quickly as possible. Yet as she stood on these grounds something more obvious beckoned, here was a ruin excruciatingly well hidden, and she was becoming increasingly curious as to why.

Shifting her stance, her eyes fell upon the young agent. His stature appearing to diminish as his team departed.

"Mr. Blair," the thief smiled in greeting, "Welcome to VILE."

 

[Chase]

[Co-Written by Chase/Roux/Flag/Joe]

His position at the controls possibly gave Chase Devineaux the best chance of survival in case of a crash. Once the submersible stopped moving, he was first on his feet, baring minor injuries. His hair was wet from sprays of leaking water or sweat, and he wiped moisture from his forehead as he assessed the situation. Turning to see his comrades moving, he exhaled relief -- that was when he noticed he breathed in fresh air. Light was streaming through cracks in the hull, and as Chase put his hand over an aqua-blue steam, he felt a cool breeze rushing in.

Immediately, his vision went to the hatch. Wiping his hands on his clothes, Devineaux gripped the wheel and began turning. After a few rotations, it stopped. The hull's shape had changed, and the door was stuck.

Acton Roux awoke after the world had spun. His head and shoulders felt unevenly weighted, something he had not felt in a very long time. As his eyes lifted to his legs, he could not discern them from the wreckage and panic arose when he thought they were mangled and detached from his body. This turned out to be an optical illusion as he moved his limbs reactively.

"Watch it." Flag complained as he shoved a leg attached to Roux aside and brought his own in to sit up. The seemingly detached limbs had belonged to him.

Moving, the doctor could soon see the shape and hear the grunting of another man nearby. Chase Devineaux was at the hatch attempting to open it. Water or blood stained the detective’s tousled hair, the doctor could not tell, but he was glad to see activity nonetheless, but what was he doing?

“Water?” He spoke up, “Do not open that!”

Turning towards the speaker, Chase hinted at the buckled titanium, “The hull’s breached, we would have drowned already, but look…” he put his hand under rays of blue, “light, and breathable air.”

Flag blinked in confusion at the green-blue light streaming in from the hole, before using its light to discern the jester from the shapes of the interior. When he found him, he gently backhanded his shoulder. "Hey."

“Aargh” was the only response Joseph could offer as he stirred. Surveying the wreck, the jester was overcome with relief, followed shortly by confusion; relief because his fellow occupants all seemed to have survived the crash, and then confusion at whether the odd light was a symptom of his concussion.

Shaking off a splitting headache, Joseph struggled to his feet and started rummaging around the floor of the submarine. Despite the limited illumination, he managed to locate the remains of the toolbox fairly easily.

While Joe sought items, Acton attempted to rise. A pain shot up his arm and he quickly noticed the tumble caused his carpal bones to be displaced. Positioning his right hand carefully, he pulled at his left to reset his wrist. He had not felt such a thing for some time and he pondered what may be truly happening beyond the naked eye.

Flag backed off from Joe's indiscernible declaration of pain and turned his attention toward Acton's. As the jester started going through a found toolbox and the doctor reset his own wrist, Flag turned his attention to the man at the hatch. He was about to offer assistance in opening it, when Roux stopped him.

“How is your back?” Studying Flag again, the doctor hoped the crash did not further bring trauma, “Stay seated first, my friend, until we are able to leave.”

"Heh. Now I understand why you asked about my chest earlier." Flag answered in jest before taking a deep breath and releasing it. "I did not land well, but the pain there is receding..." The Sivoan trailed off as the sound of tools clinking against each other caught his attention.

Carefully browsing through the metal chest, the jester removed for himself a moderately-sized crowbar in addition to a box of nuts and bolts;

“Anyone want anything from the tool kit? We got a swiss army knife, some rope, wrenches, screwdrivers, a mallet and...hold on...”

“Dibs on the Offiziersmesser,” Chase indicated he wanted the Swiss utility knife by calling its German name.

Acton noted a box clearly indicating first aid fixed to the ceiling and pulled it down for inspection. Aside from some seemingly expired products, he found sufficient items for handling up to what he might consider medium-level injuries.

Reaching back into the chest with both hands, Joseph pulled out a large box that had been previously concealed by the rest of the equipment.

“Huh. Odd, but I think we have a box of flares here too.”

After a degree of protesting, the hatch finally gave way with a dramatically long metallic groan. Devineaux laughed, triumphant, but paused under the circular glow with some uncertainty. Turning to his fellow prisoners as if asking permission, he took the first steps up the ladder and poked his head out.

Seconds later, he retracted back inside and announced, “It’s… not our world, out there.”

 

[Nevon]

[Cowritten by Nevon/Carmen]

Nevon Blair readjusted his backpack and held his ACME STUN Rifle closer to his chest as he took a step towards the other team. One lone agent, his active imagination started a dramatic storytelling, thousands of league under the sea, must now join the enemy while his team moves forward on a different quest. His saving grace, their leader, a beautiful woman with… Nevon’s head started to wander… did he just call her beautiful? Not that she wasn’t, because she was, but maybe that’s not how this story should start…

“Mr Blair,” Carmen handed a set of scopes to the ACME agent, “There’s light towards that side of the temple, I believe you were once a scout, perhaps you still have the skills.”

Blair blinked once, and then twice.

“Yes Ms… um… skills,” he took the scopes, “scouting skills, roger.” As he walked a few steps towards a good rise, he paused, “Is that all you want me to do?”

“My team and I are recalibrating the engines,” she indicated to her crafts in the bay and the four team members climbing in and out, “for now, I need you to see if you can find Dr Gunnar Maelstrom, or estimate his position.”

Nev nodded to confirm her orders, if he could do anything at all it was estimating position, “I can do that, but what does ‘recalibrating the engines’ really mean, are we readying extraction?”

“Partly, Mr Blair, we’re using at least one MAMBA section to fly to the temple,” the thief elaborated placidly, “we’ll have enough exposure for the sensors to map out its interior that way. It’s a necessary precaution.”

When she said ‘fly’, Nevon looked at the crafts, then up the into the space above towards the dark tower that’s supposed to be a former place of worship.

“This seems impossible,” he said aloud, “We’re going in there?”

“We’re keeping a madman preoccupied until we can contain him,” she revealed her mission, “I’m sorry you’re thrown into this, but I’m sure it will be quite the experience.”

“It kind of already is,” Blair shrugged, “Do we know what the madman wants?”

In between a layer of thought and contemplation, the leader gave a reassuring sigh, “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

 

[Patty]

The Valkyrie wore her heat vision goggles and scanned the navy blue atmosphere. Three men were with her, Maelstrom’s people, sent to do her bidding. But really, she didn’t need them.

Spirals, spires, and jagged edges were markers that reminded her this place wasn’t all that peaceful. Sure, thousands might have come here to worship, whatever religion this was, but they either all left in a hurry or abandoned a bunch of angry ghosts.

From higher ground, she could see two main groups. One at a watery alcove similar to where the Orca docked some miles behind her, and another group heading off in the distance. The lights were too dull to clearly identify who was who, but she estimated five or six at the MAMBA and five or six off to the submarine crash site.

“Hey Odo,” she nudged the form next to her, “You follow the walkers, the ones heading to the sub. Target’s there.”

Budget cuts meant Odo the Irish didn’t have his own heat vision goggles, but he could make out the lights far off.

“How are we supposed to know which one is Carmen Sandiego?” His question was lazy, and it annoyed the blonde.

“She’ll show herself, don’t worry,” she gave him false confidence, “I’m going back to the temple with the Professor, and then we’ll meet up at the Oscar.”

Odo made a sniffing sound as if he was thinking, and since the Valkyrie knew thinking was dangerous for his type, she snapped her fingers.

“Hey, what? You can’t take care of a few wasters walking in the dark?” She used the term ‘wasters’ because that’s what Maelstrom’s environmentalists called anyone not in their group.

“Fine,” Odo finally shuffled from his position and called to his two other teammates, “let’s go cull the herd.”

The blonde watched them leave, figuring this could be the last she saw of them, if they ever make it to ACME’s location. After they were gone, she put her attention back on the MAMBA in the bay. She inspected the people closer, switching between heat vision, infrared, and digital zoom until she could see them better. One was clearly VILE’s leader, but another smaller figure was making his way up a hill, probably to spy on Maelstrom. Carmen always liked a good lookout.

“An ACME?” she said under her breath when she saw the STUN suit’s LED indicators, “I see we’re making friends and influencing the gullible.”

 

[Ivy]

[Cowritten by Neb/Ivy/Deric]

Walking with a team of ACME agents decked out in supersuits, weapons, and even a mech at her back, would in any other situation have occupied the totality of Neb’s mind. But as she followed the beeping dot on the screen, she was barely aware of their presence. Instead the urge to look back at those she’d left behind clashed with the worry over those she raced towards, all of it dyed in a fantastical shade of ultramarine.

Ivy Monaghan adjusted her glasses to filter out the blue haze. Interestingly, she didn't find it too much better after the filter was applied. She took a glance at her team. Deric looked determined, and Eugene's ASP had a little scowl on it that she swore came from its operator. Nearby was Eleanor Mayhew, an agent she hadn't much interaction with but heard a fair amount about through the proverbial ACME grapevine.

She cleared her throat, "So, Neb, right?" The commander shrugged, "How far to destination?"

Ivy’s familiar (yet not at all familiar) voice finally wedged ACME’s presence into Neb’s attention, prompting the outnumbered VILE agent to raise her guard a hair.

“We’re about another two kilometers away,” she replied over her shoulder without slowing down. Carmen seemed to trust the ACME commander enough. The gray-haired woman certainly didn’t feel herself to be in any real danger, but there was always that risk that came with law enforcement…

She walked a little more in silence, then half turned to make eye contact. “Why did you want to exchange agents?” she asked, taking pains to keep the suspicion from her voice.

The question itself showed suspicion even if the speaker tried to hide it, but Ivy didn't mind. A VILE agent among ACME agents should be arrested on the spot, after all. "Courtesy," Ivy responded, "one of you had to come with us anyway, you have the tracker for the location, so I offered up one of ours in exchange."

The commander looked forward into the blue, "How many of yours are in the crashed sub, again?"

Neb’s pace slowed a fraction of a step and she returned her eyes to the tracker. “Two close friends and a doctor I’d just started getting to know,” she said quietly.

How ironic, she thought as she sped up again. The last time she’d met Ivy, she’d just left Joe in a desperate bid to find Carmen. Now it was the opposite. Then something else crossed her mind, and she glanced back at the detective, her voice a little softer.

“He probably wouldn’t remember me, but I met Chase once… Nice guy, solid,” she said. “Dangerous as it would be for me, I kinda always wanted to see him again.”

Ivy paused to think. In all her years knowing Chase Devineaux as an on-and-off mentor, she’s considered very little of his private life. There were rumors about a reporter here, an ambassador’s daughter there, maybe some underworld spy… But she never expected anyone to say ‘I met Chase once’ followed by ‘want to see him again’. She knew the idea was innocent, but it made her wonder about what her Director did in his free time, and that was highly unprofessional.

Resetting her brain, she unconsciously tapped on the gear set at her side, “Yeah, to be honest, he’s—“

Something moved in to their left, and the commander stopped in her tracks. Her scanners didn’t detect anything, but she was careful.

“Movement about 150 meters that way,” she said to her team, “did anyone else catch anything?”

“Nothing,” Deric said, visually scanning the area Ivy indicated. “Shadows maybe? This place has been abandoned for who knows how many centuries. Let’s keep moving.”

 

[Flag]

[Co-written: Chase/Flag/Roux]

Leaving the mangled submarine, Chase Devineaux climbed out and let his boot land on black stones. The air was fresh and drier than anticipated. It felt, almost, like old town Rome at twilight with winding ancient streets lit by bluish ambient light. Turning back, Devineaux offered to help Flag out of the crash, but stood aside when that was declined.

Pain or not, Flag was ready to get out of the broken tin can that had nearly claimed them. He waved off the offers for help and dragged himself through the hatch. Once outside, though, he paused and mouthed an obscenity at the shimmering impossibility before him. "Not mine either," he declared after a moment, referencing the detectives observation moments before.

Inexplicably, the sub had managed to crash on a paved open area outside of a city that could not be described as terrestrial, though it might have had an influence over time. The architecture of the buildings that Flag could see from this side of the submarine were somehow both angular and organic; the light coming from them held the same odd juxtaposition. With the fact that they were dry, it would have been easy to forget that this was all underwater, save for a giant bubble that reached up into the underwater mountain and encased the city around them.

The Sivoan had seen miraculous barriers before, but this was beyond compare. Curiosity got the better of him and he walked along the platform until he reached the vertical divide between air and sea. He reached up and lightly poked the wall. Simply, it was wet - like poking the surface water of a pool, but the orientation was all wrong. Using the palm of his hand, he pressed a little harder and felt a strong resistance keeping it from going through. Underneath was a sensation much like a breeze that Flag assumed was a extremely strong underwater current.

Flag pulled back and wiped the water off on his clothes. "Astonishing."

Acton Roux complained slightly of his left arm as he maneuver out of the submarine.

As he noted Chase Devineaux in the light, he snorted, “You look terrible.”

Chase tilted his head slightly and chuckled, “So do you.”

Once Acton landed on his feet, the detective gripped Joe’s hand and helped the last of them out of the sub.