The Orient Express - Carrmen/Eleanor/Chase
It was a long day, starting with the plane ride from blistering Cairo, Egypt to Sofia, Bulgaria, one of the world's oldest cities. Chase Devineaux was here to intercept a possible crime. He felt more like he was here to make sure the suspects were scared off, and he did not enjoy the position.
Sitting on one of the seats near the train's bar, he breathed a little. The air was crisp, clean, and with a hint of antique wood. Rays of incandescent light acted in place of candles against gold accents. The Orient Express was stopping at Sofia for a while. Despite being such an opulent train, it felt identifiably friendly. From the waiter, he ordered water.
Another agent was to meet up with him, but due to conflict of schedules, he was not sure if someone from Special Ops was coming.
"Will that be all, sir?" the waitress asked. It was a female, blonde hair scooped up into a moderately tight bun with a neat and well pressed uniform which spoke of her position. "We have an excellent selection of wines from the finest vineyards in France... I could recommend one." There was a light smirk. It was Missy Wayward... she'd arrived about three stops ago but only started her 'shift' now.
The Orient Express was a personal favorite. Carmen enjoyed toying with it, and during a trip with few passengers, she was planning to take the train... literally. All the bastions were now in place, so to speak. Her henchmen would be notified of the train's progress and the night before it left Sofia, the train should disappear.
Chase casually opened his laptop and nodded to Missy. "Only water for now, thanks," he confirmed, "but I'd like some bourbon sent to State Cabin number two in about... ten minutes." He looked at his watch again. It was now 7:15 PM.
"Of course, sir." she replied, giving a parting nod and a glance at her watch. She continued to take the order of one last group of diners before heading to the back and, passing the order on to another waiter, quietly made her way towards the back of the train. She had a few things to check on before heading to the State Cabin, things like the baggage car.
A VILE assistant henchman, not yet 25, was making his way in from the passenger cabins, disguised as a waiter as well. He gasped as he pried open the door to the bar and was greeted by a face so familiar, it was instantly recognizable. He made a hushed sound of fright and quickly rushed out to report his discovery.
Chase took note of the amount of people on the train tonight. Less than 20 were about, and the rooms were not fully booked. Most of them were couples, and it made him feel out of place traveling alone as if on a business trip. Businessmen don't bother taking the Orient Express.
In a short movement, he closed his laptop and headed to the State Cabin. Most of ACME's equipments should have been delivered there; including a scrambler.
This was annoying, to say the least. Carmen felt she was justifiable in her contempt. She was only stealing the train, not planning to destroy it. What was the use of having expensive men and equipment only to be barred by a man in a suit? Knowing she could not always talk to her rigid former partner, she decided to take a different route.
Carmen approached Missy Wayward.
"That disguise looks lovely on you," she mocked a compliment, "you should also consider cuff links."
Turning her head to face the speaker Missy gave a slightly flustered sigh and shook her head. "You know, I figured finding you was supposed to be the hard part. People are always wondering where you are... where's the fun if the answer is 'She's right here!'"
"There's no need for trifling hostility," Carmen smirked, "I'm only here to speak logically. I'm sure you are a much better listener than he is."
Back in the State Cabin, Chase looked over the delivered equipment. Nothing looked right. Perhaps, he concluded, assembly was required...
"Oh I'm not hostile." Missy replied, smiling back. "But you're asking me to find logic for someone trying to steal a train. No offense, Miss Sandiego, but I don't know if you can argue logic for this one."
"You see, Ms. Wayward," Carmen started, slightly impatient about having to explain herself to yet another ACME agent. "He's there, right now, in his State Cabin, figuring out how to jam the signals this train is sending out. I'd like you to convince him to leave." There was little tonality in her voice, "Would you be interested in doing that for me?"
Chase Devineaux opened all the boxes marked as computer equipment. Slowly and gradually, they started not looking like the items in the manual he was given. Opening his laptop again, he turned to the instructional PDF file. Strange, he thought, as his eyes darted from one odd component to another.
There was a long, drawn out pause. For all the things she'd heard in her life while dealing with criminals, and admittedly there had been a good number of them, no one had ever been that, direct. One could see her mind trying to deal with the information. "...so you're basically asking me to tell my boss to leave the train so you can steal it." she said flatly, still not believing what she'd been asked.
"Emphatically," Carmen replied with a helpful nod as if Missy was a child who answered correctly and would soon be given a golden star. "Because I don't want this to turn sour." Her voice was deeper now, her natural contralto, but with a degree of seriousness, "He's the heroic type, we both know that. And I want this train, there's no telling what might happen in the process. I prefer prevention, rather than guilt.." She made sure that the last sentence contained a friendly note. However, Carmen assumed, it must seem like a threat to lawful ears.
In the State Cabin, Chase wondered briefly where that bourbon was... He looked at his watch, the ticking told him that it was 7:30 - five minutes past scheduled meeting. Then he noticed that something else was ticking... a telltale sound coming from one of the metal boxes.
The tone of the international thief almost held something in it that made her want to agree. Like the logical part of her mind appreciated the directness of her statement. The other part of her mind had to catch her and remind her of why she was there. "...Prevention seems to be where we agree," Missy replied, "just, you know, not in the same way."
For some reason she felt like, in comparison, her 'witty' remarks were falling flat. Nevertheless, the point stood, the answer was no.
Not entirely sure what to make of it, but almost certain about what it was, Chase attempted to open the ticking briefcase. The steel was a standard thickness with some structure inside for reinforcement and a decent numeric combination lock.
"Eleanor," he spoke into the direct communicator, something used only in emergencies, "there's a bomb here... I don't know why you missed rendezvous, but if you're on the train, you have a new objective: get everyone out."
Having made the command, he thought about calling the bomb squad. Looking at the lock again, Chase reconsidered. What was the best way to handle an unidentified ticking suitcase?
Carmen, in between the silence, heard the communicator. She tilted her head slightly at the way he said 'Eleanor'. When the voice ended, the thief once again smirked, "The Hero type," she repeated, "was I right?"
A minuscule flare of dramatic afterthought made her wish she had delivered real explosives to State Cabin number two, but it was gone before her next breath.
Missy, or Eleanor as she'd been referred to as, glared back at Carmen, watching her facial expressions as they both heard Chase's command over the wrist communicator. She was aware that it could have been a decoy placed by Carmen... but without being able to prove it Missy was unwilling to risk exposing nothing. "...I wouldn't have it any other way." she shot back quickly before making a dash out the door and started to evacuate the people in the dining car.
A thought occurred that she should do something to keep Carmen here, but the threat of a bomb kept Missy on highest priority: Civilians first. Besides, this was the last car on the train; it was full of storage and there was only one way out.
Once Missy was distracted, Carmen absconded, but not without leaving a pastime: a lovely visual clue as to where she might be heading next.
Seconds later, Missy brought the communicator to her lips and spoke, "Carmen's in the baggage car... my money's on that bomb being a phony..."
Chase was silent, if Carmen was here then this suspicious briefcase was hardly a threat. What were the chances of the entire plot not being a VILE heist if their leader was around?
"Meet me in the Baggage car," he said as quickly as he could, and with the same speed headed out to the last section of the train. Outside, he could see the passengers gathering aimlessly; he wondered whether they were told of a bomb. No one seemed to panic so this must look routine...
"Be right there..." she answered back into her communicator, before turning her head to answer questions from fleeing passengers. "I don't care if you bring your bananas foster... just get out of here!"
Turning back to the baggage car, she moved through the more crowded dining car, stopping short as she entered the baggage area once again.
Chase wasted very little time, entering the car in question to find Missy Wayward alone.
"Not here, huh?" he said, with some exasperation, referring to Carmen Sandiego.
The loud stretch of moving metal could be heard within a radius of nearly half a mile. To most people, it sounded like the abnormally amplified groaning of a train as it reached a station. They would be right, it was at least a train, but that train was also flying away. The only car left on the station was one that Carmen did not really need--coincidentally the same one in which the agents stood.
Seeing nothing but the night as he turned to the door of the baggage car, Chase looked up to see the train float peacefully away. He put a hand on his head. "Wait," he called out almost involuntarily, then realizing it was in vain, continued with a shrug. "My bag is still in that cabin..."