Code Green , ᶜᵃʳᵐᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁿᵈᶦᵉᵍᵒ

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

"Ugh, this suit's so stuffy," I complain, peeling off the sleeve of the tuxedo suit that also happened to double as a defensive armor. It was bulletproof and it'd be cool if only it didn't feel so. . . Containing. It was very tight and didn't leave much room to actually breathe, not to mention how heavy it was what with the armor hidden underneath the fabric. I'd have to walk around in that.

"You don't have to wear it until we leave," Ivy assured me, helping me take it off.

At this point, I didn't really care if the redhead woman who had been assisting my longtime friend in her capers saw me nude. So what? In the grandeur scheme of things, it didn't really matter.

Plus, I kind of trusted her. In a weird way, she and her comical twin were oddly refreshing to be around. And I didn't feel like I had to be as secretive around their presences as I used to, not anymore. Of course, this didn't mean we were friends. Naturally we weren't.

But what came out of our accomplished missions together, it made me grow a bit of affection for the twins.

Attachment, perhaps.

It would be inconvenient for when I'd betray them, but inconveniences come and go; you just do your best to keep going regardless of them.

I wriggle my way out of the rest of the suit and Ivy tosses me my regular clothes. I slip them on quickly and proceed to throw myself onto my bed. "When exactly are we doing this?" I ask. "Also, can we find a more comfortable suit than that one? More breathability would be nice."

"Not with the design it has that lets you have bulletproof armor," Ivy answers, and I sigh in disappointment. "And I don't know actually. You know Carm's on a personal quest right now, right?"

I nod, rolling over on my side and staring at Ivy. "Yeah, she mentioned something about that to me yesterday. Where's she going anyways?"

"Argentina, I think. Pretty sure she's investigating her family."

I sigh, pressing my lips together. "She was always curious about them. I mean, ever since she realized she might've once had one. She was manipulated by Brunt to think they abandoned her and it hurt her bad."

I scowled at the memory of Coach Brunt. My throat clogged up a little as I pictured little Black Sheep, imagining her baby self washed up on the island and her supposed caretaker taking on the responsibility. In reality I never believed that story, and I knew there was more to it. Despite it not being any of my business, I was still curious to what Carmen might find when she dug up whatever information she could find on her family.

My past was painted beside hers, our colors meeting and merging into different shades several times. We shared a background as much as we both hated to acknowledge that bit of our lives— though it made us both who we are today. Honestly, I don't know who I'd be if I hadn't spent my childhood alongside Carmen Sandiego.

"Yeah, I always hated that awful bitch," Ivy said to me.

I glanced over at her, and surprise rose inside of me as I noticed tears? pooling inside of her eyes. "Are you okay?" I ask, rather awkwardly because I hadn't gotten the chance to ask that question many times in my life. I could count on one hand the amount of occasions I had.

Ivy scrambled to wipe the tears away with the back of her hand. "Yeah I'm fine. Just. . . You coming back and everything, it affected Carm. You know, we care about her a lot. We are her accomplices, some might say we work for her, but we're so much more than that. She's me and Zack's family." She sniffled. "Carmen might not show it that well but she missed you, Parrot. She did. She talked about you all the time, especially when we first met you. I guess after time went by she tried to forget you, thinking you were on the side of the people she's up against. But she was wrong— we were wrong. And you're sitting right here, trying on a suit for a master plan that'll take down the evil cooperation that stole you guys' lives. And others', too." She smiled through the tears.

Going only based off my instincts and nothing else, I reached forward and wrapped my arms around Ivy snugly, pulling her into an embrace. She responded enthusiastically and returned the hug, happy-crying for a few more minutes before we separated and Ivy mumbled some excuse about watering her hair dryer, stumbling out the door while simultaneously struggling to smear her palm over her eyes to gather the rest of her tears.

Amused, I chuckle lightly to myself, swinging my leg off the side of the bed. I consider to myself whether to stay in bed debating this "master plan" a little longer, and decide not to.

I've spent too long worrying about the future.

It's time to unwind a little.

***

"This is not what I meant by unwinding!" I yell, firmly holding my grip on the box as I ran.

The Mime— another newer operative, and could I just say, I think my year got way cooler code names than this class— chased after me, just feet behind me, and I cried out to the gondolas where Ivy and Zack were awaiting me. "Guys! Start the damn engine!" I shriek, hopping into the boat while clutching the Very Important Box in my arms still, being sure to be careful with it since it had really important gems inside of it.

Gems that apparently were worth millions of dollars. And since our job was to steal from the rich, when Player had found the opening, he striked. He sent us the information and told us to hurry if we wanted to retrieve the stash before VILE would get it. We hurried.

Yet somehow, the fate of actually carrying the box through the busy streets of Italy was my burden to carry— quite literally.

"Guys!" I shout over the wind, glaring at the twins who seemed so slow at starting the boat. "God, do I have to do everything myself?"

I grabbed the emergency oars and started rowing like my life depended on it.

Because it just did.

If the Mime reported back to VILE, describing me to the operatives' leaders of the table, then I may risk blowing my cover and therefore this entire operation. And that's not fucking happening, so I row.

I made the very stupid decision of putting the box between my feet so I could move the boat while Ivy and Zack were deciding where the key goes (Amateurs)— which the realization of the idiotic choice that it was fully sunk in my mind as soon as a grapple hooked onto the boards we were sitting on, and a pale white figure danced above us before landing on the boat, shaking it precariously on the rivers.

"The Mime," Zack dumbly said.

"Shit," I say, reaching down for the box only to see— I immediately glance over to the Mime, who didn't have the box in his arms. "It's gone!" I panic, wondering how they could've grabbed it under my nose. Once again, that was literal. I lost it and there was nothing I could do to retrieve it right now.

What I could do, however, was take this clown into custody.

I acted fast, grabbing his ankles with one arm and with the other, cutting off the line he had to the bridge using the spare dagger I'd borrowed from Carmen's vast collection of arms. "Oh, you're not going anywhere," I informed the Mime, twisting his ankle and contorting it in such a way that I heard various loud snapping and squelching noises.

Ivy and Zack blanched.

I flinched.

Then I twisted it once more with all the strength I had in me, for good measure. The Mime, who had likely not spoken a word for most of his career, let out a yelp of immense pain, his head dipping down to stare painfully at his unsightly ankle. Not only was it broken but I possibly mutilated it. Blood gushed out the sides and a bone was perched through the stretched skin. "He's not going anywhere," I told Ivy and Zack, who stared at me with looks of terror in their faces.

"That. . . Was wicked," Ivy finally said.

"Wicked scary, yeah!" exclaimed Zack. "Did you see the way she kept twisting and squeezing?" He shuddered. "I'm never going to unsee that again. It's permanently etched in my mind."

"Let's get back to HQ, shall we?" I tell the others. "It's been quite the eventful week. Carmen's probably worried sick."