Part Five Athens, Greece Sergio Koinania walked through his trophy room. His mansion contained one of the finest collections of mythological statues in Greece, rivaled only by a few museums. Some were originals, others were strong marble replicas. Sergio shook his head. The morning had been spent on the phone with several British museum curators in an unsuccessful attempt to secure the return of some ancient artifacts to Greece. A wealthy merchant and expert on antiquity, Sergio spent most of his time trying to recover ancient artifacts taken during World War II. Sergio brushed his graying hair back and massaged his temple. He admired the beauty of the statues, and walked back to his office. There would be messages from collectors, word about new finds or newly-sculpted statues modeled on the old ones, and more work to do with the British museums. He shook his head and left the trophy room. Carmen hid behind a statue of Athena as he passed. She admired the goddess of wisdom. It's almost tempting to steal Athena for the Manor, she thought. But that's not what I'm here for. Maybe for a future caper... Carmen walked to the statue of Pythias and Damien. "Roman marble copy of a Greek bronze original," she said to herself. "A pity. So little truly original art from ancient Rome. But interesting to see the Greek influence in so many aspects of the life." She smiled. "And such a touching story of friendship." An electric hum broke the somber, ancient mood of the trophy room. Zack's jacket got caught on Appolo's chariot, and he hung in midair. Ivy did a somersault and landed by Artemis. How appropriate, thought Carmen. Such a dedicated detective landing next to the goddess of the hunt. "You'll have plenty of time to learn who you friends are," said Ivy, "When they visit you in jail!" "Ivy, I'm not having fun yet!" yelled Zack. "I hate this part!" "Perhaps you should learn from Phaethon, Ivy," said Carmen. "It's never wise to underestimate your task--or overestimate your abilities." Zack glanced at a statue of Perseus fighting Medusa, and smiled. He quickly whipped out a pen light, and aimed it straight at the shield. The beam bounced off the shield, striking the Queen of Crime in the eyes. Blinded by the sudden flash, Carmen stumbled backward into a statue of Damocles. Suddenly, the sword suspended above his head by a thin, scarcely visible wire began to wobble. Ivy's eyes widened. "Carmen, look out!" She grabbed a trident from Poseiden and hurled it at the sword. At the same time, Carmen dodged to the side. The trident caught the sword, and both clanged to the floor. "Impressive, Ivy," said Carmen. "You would have been a great javelin thrower in the Pythian Games--if women had been allowed to compete." "We're competeing now," said Ivy. "You and me." "Competition can make you stronger," said Carmen. "But the toughest opponent you will ever face, Ivy, is yourself." Suddenly, Sergio ran in. "What is the meaning of this?" He stopped in shock. "It's Carmen Sandiego!" He pressed a button, and several alarms sounded. Several lasers sprang up around the statues. Carmen dodged a few beams, accidentally dropping a map to where she'd hidden the loot. It fell behind the laser barrier. Carmen sighed, but then smiled. "Hermes was the god of theft--but also the messanger known for his great speed. Until next crime..." She t hrew a smoke bomb to the ground. Ivy, Zack, and Sergio coughed and tried to fan it away. When it finally cleared, Sergio had tears in his eyes, Ivy was enraged, and Zack was still hanging from Appolo's chariot. Sergio looked at Ivy. "The statues..." "How bad is the damage?" she asked. He shook his head. "Only the weapons were removed; that's easily fixed. I've been wanting to do some restoration anyway. Thank you for saving the one of Pythias and Damien. It's a priceless original." "Ivy, get me down from here!" yelled Zack. Sergio and Ivy looked at Zack, and started laughing. "I'll get a ladder," said Sergio. "And a camera," said Ivy. "You wouldn't!" said Zack, his eyes widening. "Ivy, I'll never hear the end of this!" "What are sisters for, little bro?" asked Ivy, smiling wickedly. "Look at it this way--maybe it'll give Josha an extra nudge in fixing the C-5 Corridor." Ivy smiled and reached into her pocket. Zack hung from the chariot, frustrated. "If you take this picture, I'll bring in that picture from our first Halloween--where you're dressed up as a pumpkin!" Ivy smiled, pointed the camera, and clicked it. "Definately worth it," she said. Even if she was dressed like a pumpkin, Zack still had to cope with the Raggady Andy costume. Somewhere in the South... Carol stopped at a small roadside diner for a cup of coffee. She'd passed through Abeline a few hours ago and was exhausted, so she stopped to rest. There wasn't much to the town--a hole in the road between somewhere and somewhere else, basically. A couple of days had passed since she left Zack and Ivy. The wire services bought her story and paid well. The money would last a while, allowing her to head to California. Carol had been on the road all day and most of the night. The states were starting to blur together. Where am I? Am I in Texas or Oklahoma or Arizona or New Mexico or Nevada or California? Several trucker-types and locals eyed Carol suspiciously. Outsiders didn't go through that area much, especially an outsider who was a young, attractive woman traveling alone on a motorcycle. One of the locals got up, and sauntered over to Carol's table. He wore old blue jeans, a flannel shirt, cowboy boots, an old cowboy hat and a black belt with a large buckle. "Howdy," he said, eyeing Carol. This one's pretty, he thought. Bet once she got broken in she'd make a good woman. 'Course, if she weren't an outsider... But she could learn...' Carol nodded in response, and sipped her coffee. "My name's Blake," he said. "Wha's yers?" Carol sipped her coffee. "Please don't bother me," said Carol. "It's been a long night." A stereotype come to life. I'm really not up for it. "Lookin' fer sumthin'? Well, maybe ya foun' th' answer heer in Tayck-siz," said Blake, smiling. "Ya ain't from 'roun' here." "Go away. It's not a good night." "Ah can mayke it bettuh. So where ya from?" Carol didn't answer. Margie, the waitress, shifted uneasily. Blake had a reputation for turning violent if spurned. Her sister had more than a few bruises to prove that. On one hand, the outsider could be in danger. On the other hand, she looked like she could take care of herself... "So what's a preeteey gerl like yew doin' in a place like this?" "Leaving," said Carol, starting to get up. Blake grabbed her wrist. "Yew ain't goin' nowhere!" Carol did a swift aikido move, which sent Blake flying into the jukebox. An old country song started to play. Carol rolled her eyes in annoyance. Why country? Why is it always country? Everyone quickly got back to what they were doing. Carol stood in a ready stance. "Look, man, I just want to drink my coffee and get back on the road." Blake glared at her. "Ya'll 're gonna regret that," he said. He charged toward Carol, who met him with a strong right hook and an uppercut. She threw an elbow strike and a side thrust kick. He fell against the wall. "If it's a fight you want, I'll warn you that I know tang su do, kickboxing, taekwondo, aikido, judo, and capabuera. Please leave me alone, man." Blake grabbed a steak knife from the table and ran toward her. But Carol was ready for him. She quickly did a cartwheel kick, nailing Blake in the sternum. He doubled over, the wind knocked out of him. Carol stood up and kicked the knife away. Blake glared at her, and swung a fist. Carol slid aside, blocked it, and countered with a knife-hand strike to his head. He fell to the ground, unconscious. Suddenly, Carol felt two people knock her two the ground. A gun cocked. Instantly her eyes focused on the coffee stain by the stool. Light brown, probably months old. Lime green and off-white tile. Stainless steel seat anchor--what a laugh. Everything's stained but the steel. That's the last thing I'm going to see. That coffee stain, that ugly tile, that steel. That's the last thing I'm going to hear, that song... What is it? Some old country piece... What is it? "You're under arrest for disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct, and assault with a deadly weapon." "Are you blind, stupid?" Carol heard herself yell. "He attacked me!" "You fought more than neccessary and you challenged him. Mutual combat." She felt two strong arms handcuff her, and jerk her to her feet. Everything seemed a blur to her. The smell of grease... that song... man, what is it? Something about running Blake in again... right to remain silent... right to an attorney... oh, no... oh, no... steel handcuffs on my wrists... pinching my hands hard... I've come so far... no, I can't give up now... Hail, Mary, mother of God... That's it, that's the song, "God's Eyes Over Texas"... Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our deaths... "Full legal name?" "I don't know," said Carol. "How can you not know?" asked the booking officer. "Abandoned," said Carol. The word stung like a whip. "The name I use is Carol Jackson." "Common spelling?" asked the cop. Carol nodded. "Place of birth?" "I don't know." "Where'd you grow up?" "Jacksonville, Florida. Ward of the state. Current hometown is Indianapolis." The cop typed a few things, and frowned. "An Acme file..." He looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Sarge, this might be out of our league!" An older man walked out and looked at the computer. He whistled lowly, and looked at Carol. "Looks like yer good at landin' in trouble. Wanted in Florida for breaking and entering and petty theft, an Acme file, juvenile record..." I'm never going to get out of this, thought Carol. Lord, send me help from St. Jude... "Yew can make a phone call if you wahont to," said the older man. He placed a clump of papers on the desk. "Yew shore keep a lot of phone numbers." "What do you expect? I'm a reporter," muttered Carol. Her eyes landed on a card. "Yeah, I think I'll make a call." "Yew got five minutes," said the sergeant. Acme Detective Agency, San Francisco, California, U.S.A. "Ivy," answered Ivy, as her and Zack's private phone line rang. "It's Carol Jackson, or whatever the hell my last name is." Ivy bolted upright. "Where are you? What's wrong?" "I was on my way to San Francisco, but I ran into some trouble. I'm in jail in Texas..." "What happened?" said Ivy. Zack, who had been sleeping, quickly woke up when he heard the alarmed tone in Ivy's voice. "I got attacked in a diner out in west Texas, beat the guy, and got busted by two off-duty cops. No bail. They're planning to extradite me to Florida in a couple of days. Charges here are questionable. Can you come talk to the cops and get them to release me into Acme's custody? If I'm going to be kept in custody, I want to get to know you and Zack better." "What are the charges in Texas?" "Disturbing the peace and disorderly conduct for the fight. And since I'm a skilled martial artist, assault with a deadly weapon." "I understand," said Ivy. "What are the charges in Florida?" "Breaking and entering and petty theft." "I'll notify the Chief and C-5 down there as soon as I can. Stay out of trouble, okay?" "It's a bit late for that," said Carol, wryly. "Just hang on," said Ivy. "Zack and I are on our way." She hung up. "What's going on, sis?" "We're in charge of a prisoner transfer," said Ivy, grimly. Mesa Amarilla, Texas, U.S.A. Carol sat on the cot, dejected. Suddenly, she heard a guard coming. "Jackson!" he called. She stood up, and walked to the cell door. "You're being transfered into Acme's custody," he said. Carol fought the smile that wanted to cross her face. He handcuffed her, and escorted her to the lobby. A somber Ivy and a tired-looking Zack waited for her. They placed Acme-issue handcuffs on her, and C-5ed back to San Francisco. Acme Detective Agency, San Francisco, California, U.S.A. Dr. Fountaine, an Acme psychologist, looked at Carol. There wasn't much resemblence between her, Zack, and Ivy, but he could see some similarities. They had the same lean, athletic build; the firm faces; the pointed chins, the high intelligence... The Chief appeared, but saw Dr. Fountaine was interviewing Carol. He looked at Dr. Fountaine, moved behind him, and hovered. Dr. Fountaine was a middle-aged man with brown eyes and thinning gray hair. He wore a tie, brown suit, and dark brown loafers. He held a black pen, a manila file, and a legal notepad. The Chief looked at Carol, and could see she wasn't in a good mood. "Do you have any plans to hurt yourself or anyone else?" asked Dr. Fountaine. "Look, just let me go," said Carol. "I don't have time for this." "You're not going to be going anywhere else tonight," said Dr. Fountaine. The Chief turned his hair gray and sent it into every direction. Carol tried not to laugh. "Is something wrong?" asked Dr. Fountaine. Carol made some throat-clearing noises, and said, "Something in my throat." Dr. Fountaine eyed her skeptically, and looked through the file. "Where did I put those briefs?" he muttered. The Chief called up a pair of white boxers with brown teddy bears on them. "Right here, right here!" he mouthed. Carol started chuckling. Dr. Fountaine looked up. "What?" he asked. The Chief mimiced him exactly. Carol burst out laughing. Dr. Fountaine turned and looked at the Chief, who quickly changed back to "normal" and tried to look innocent. "Very amusing," he said. "All charges were dropped," said the Chief. Carol grinned. "She's free to go." Dr. Fountaine nodded. "You may need some therapy," he said. "That landed me in this mess," said Carol, wryly. "I have some things to take care of before I head back to Indy. Good night." Zack and Ivy's House, San Francisco, California, U.S.A. Ivy looked at her parents. "You wouldn't believe what happened on the case," she said. "I'd rather not hear about it," said her mother. "I never did understand why you wanted to be a detective." Ivy clenched her teeth. "It concerns you and Dad, Mom." "This whole detective thing concerns us," said her father. "First you, and then you brought Zack into it. He could've been a good computer technician..." "Or an interpreter!" interjected her mother. "But you led him down your path," finished her father. "Listen to me!" yelled Ivy. "This isn't about our career choices! This isn't about what Zack could've been!" "This is important," said Zack. "Just listen to us." "I'm glad we didn't have any other children to follow the crimefighting path," said their mother. "You led right in to what we all wanted to say," said a woman's voice. Everyone turned to look. Carol sat on the window sill, looking at them. "Surprised to see me?" asked Carol, in a voice saturated with bitterness and sarcasm. There was an awkward silence. Finally, their mother spoke. "You've really grown, Carol." "'You've really grown, Carol?'" repeated the reporter, angrily. "You left me to die in Florida 25 years ago and all you have to say is 'You've really grown, Carol'?" "What'd you want us to say?" asked their father. "Something other than that," said Carol. "Like 'We're sorry' or 'Here's why we left you?'" "You do owe her an explanation, Mom and Dad," said Ivy. "Ivy, this doesn't concern you," said their mother. "The hell it doesn't," snarled Carol. "Watch your language!" barked their father. "I am your child," said Carol, "Physically. But that is all." Everyone were quiet. "We were young," said their mother. "We weren't married when I was pregnant with you. When you were born you were so small and helpless. We couldn't support a baby. When we were in the wreck, it looked so hopeless... Our parents didn't know... It looked bad for all of us... We ran before we thought." "Why didn't you try and find me?" asked Carol, softly. "We couldn't face our past," said their father. "We were trying to move on and start a new life." "So you just threw me away," said Carol. Everyone was quiet. "We got married and later had Ivy and Zack," said their mother. "We both had successful careers and gave them everything they wanted." Ivy frowned. "Except the truth," she said. "And your love." Their mother frowned. "I wasn't raised that way. I was raised to show love by sacrifice." "People need to hear it, too," said Carol. Both their parents were quiet, but Zack could see they were getting angry. He looked at Carol, and then at Ivy. So much of Ivy's pain of their rejection was magnified in Carol. He felt a twinge of pity for them, and anger toward his parents. Their mother looked at Carol. "You're an adult now. You don't need us." Carol clenched her fists. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened. "What about Zack and Ivy?" "We've raised our kids," she replied. "They're 18 and 14," said Carol. "So they've moved out and gotten jobs. That doesn't mean they don't need anybody." "The Acme agents are their family," she argued. "I can see why!" snapped Carol. Everyone was quiet. "I can see I'm making things worse," said Carol, putting on her helmet. "Zack, Ivy, good case." She turned and walked out the door. Outside Carol mounted her motorcycle, and strapped on her helmet. "I came all this way and spent all this time for nothing!" she exclaimed. She cursed, and pounded the handlebars in frustration. "For nothing!" "Carol?" said Ivy, approaching the motorcycle. "I really don't know what to say." "So don't," said Carol. Ivy put her hand on Carol's shoulder. "If you ever want to be an Acme agent, Zack and I would be honored to work with you." Carol realized that it was Ivy's way of saying "I love you." Acme and Zack meant just about everything to her. It was a gesture of friendship and sisterhood, in Ivy's way. Carol pat her hand. "I'd be thrilled to have you guys as my partners at Acme or as a reporter." "We're glad to have you as a sister, for what it's worth," said Zack. "We'd love to work with you at Acme." "I can't decide right away," said Carol. "You don't have to," said Ivy. Zack grinned. "Although it is nice to have someone get in trouble besides me." "You do make things interesting," said Carol. "I'll give it some thought. Right now I'm happy being a reporter. It's kind of like being an Acme agent, but I'm not ready to give it up right now." "You don't have to," said Ivy. "Do what makes you happy." Carol sighed. "At this point in my life, I don't really know what to know. All I know is I want to get to know you guys better." She handed them her card. "This is where you can find me. I'll be in touch." "Take care of yourself," said Zack. "You guys do the same," she said. They hugged. "We can C-5 you home," said Zack. "Good idea," said Carol. "I don't know if I could stand another cross-country ride. I'll be in touch." "Can we give her an exclusive, Iv?" asked Zack, smiling. "I like the publicity. I get freebies at the arcade." "You oughta go into journalism," said Carol, grinning. "Entertainment people get the best freebies in the mail." She punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Keep outta trouble, kid." "Don't pick any more fights in a Texas diner," said Ivy, smiling. "You can do the cheap tabloid publicity if you want, Zack." "Hey," said Carol, acting offended. "I am a respected freelancer, I'll have you know. There's a fine line between an exclusive with Acme agents or V.I.L.E. members and Elvis living in a toaster. Why don't you guys come with me back to my place?" "Sounds great!" said Zack. "Player, C-5 us to Indianapolis!" Carol and Zack walked through the corridor. "Oh, no..." said Ivy. "Two of them." She smiled, and stepped through the corridor. She and her sister had a lot of catching up to do.