The gunfire was heavy and loud around them. Carmen waited, up upon the ceiling of the vast, ancient temple. She watched carefully below her- although it was distressing to witness the damage the Nazis were doing to the historic site, she was far more interested in making sure she saw the signal from one Indiana Jones than averting her eyes. After all, if she missed him, then not only would the Nazis gain an artefact of potentially immense power- and who needed that- but Indiana would have an abruptly shortened life expectancy.
Unfortunately, Carmen's high vantage point also left her vulnerable- hooked onto the ceiling, she was entirely open from below. Although unseen, a stray ricochet hit what the gunner could not, cruel physics redirecting the bullet's momentum.
Carmen's shocked cry of pain went unnoticed in the roar of noise around her. Her hand clasped over the bullet wound couldn't completely stop the flow of blood from the lower right hand side of her abdomen- a stomach wound. In a hospital, she'd have a chance. But here, Carmen realised with a startling clarity that she was looking at her own death. With a slightly hysterical smile on her lips and unshed tears brimming in her eyes, Carmen snapped her gaze back to the scene below her as she did her best to temporarily bind the wound. If this was going to be her last caper, then she was determined that it was going to work.
Indiana ran towards the abyss in front of him, the ancient helm held securely in one hand. The Nazis followed, but there were more concerned about retrieving the helm than stopping him- after all, if the helm fell through the gaping crack in the ground ahead, it would be lost. But if the man carrying the helm did the same, then that didn't particularly upset them. Whispering a prayer, Indiana grabbed his beloved hat securely in his other hand as he began to step, still running, over the edge of the abyss- when a solid collision from behind lifted him off his feet, sweeping him over the ravine and dropping at the other side. Carmen had indeed come through for him, swinging from her position on the roof at just the right time, then cutting her own rope to land with him. He flashed her a quick smile, failing to notice the look of agony on her face. They both then ran, through the labyrinth in front of them, never slowing until they reached the bright daylight of the outside world again.
After regaining his breath, Indy looked at his current partner in crime. She stood a little distance away, leaning against a broad tree as she scanned the horizon. Her red and black outfit stood out boldly against the natural greens and browns of the forest around them, and Indy admired again the vibrant woman who could, when she chose, give him a definite run for his money. Bold colour and bold nature- that was Carmen. He'd managed to get her cooperation on this gig admittedly by the use of a little blackmail, but he had to say, as a partner, she was unparalleled. He lifted the helm in his hands, turned it so it glinted in the light.
"Well, we got it, Miss Sandiego."
Carmen carefully schooled her face into the picture of serene pleasure, before she turned to look at the glittering helm in Indiana's hands. What was that line again… Look your last upon lovely things in every hour? Probably misquoted, but Carmen couldn't deny that the helm was certainly lovely. The guy holding it was fairly attractive too- but the blood soaking her red trench coat indicated that she probably was indeed looking her last upon them both. Nevertheless, she smiled.
"Quite the catch there, Dr Jones. Are you sure you aren't cut out for a life of crime? You'd make a wonderful partner."
Carmen knew the offer was empty, but then, she also knew that he'd never take her up on it.
"You'll have to try harder than that, Carmen."
She shrugged, still smiling. The pause in conversation began to stretch out, but then was broken by a far off buzzing noise, coming closer.
"A helicopter- that's our ride out of here, Carmen."
Indiana got to his feet and began to move away, but turned back and frowned when he saw that she hadn't moved away from the tree.
"What are you waiting for, an invitation?"
Her laugh sounded, high and merry- and, if he'd been listening properly, a little bit hysterical.
"You can go, Indiana. But you're a man of your word- and I've filled my side of our bargain, now that you have the helm. So I'll be on my way- I always have my own escape, surely you remember."
Indy growled under his breath- she was right, of course. He'd only bargained for her help until after they had obtained and escaped from the Nazis with the helm. He walked up to her, held his hand out.
"Well, in that case," he smiled, and repeated her usual farewell. "Until next time, Carmen Sandiego."
She shook his hand briefly.
"If there is a next time, Dr Jones. Now go- you don't want to keep your helicopter waiting." A pause, as he turned and began to leave.
"Oh, and Indy," she called. He stopped, looked back.
"Makes sure the museum that thing goes into has great security... after all, I might like to test it."
He grinned, nodded and disappeared into the trees.
As soon as Carmen was certain he was gone, she slumped down against the tree, not noticing the red streak now painting the bark. Hot tears finally spilled from her brown eyes, but she didn't notice them either- if she was dying, she wanted to leave one last mystery.
Indiana reached the clearing where the helicopter had settled- for once, promises of military assistance were proving useful. He felt only mild surprise seeing the red cross denoting a medical chopper- after all, the government of this less than cooperative country were not fond of overtly warlike vehicles. He grinned and leapt in. The pilot turned and grinned back, but the expression quickly changed as he ran to get the first aid equipment.
"Sir, what happened out there? Where are you hurt?"
"Huh? Kid, I'm fine."
"But your hand, Sir!"
Indy looked at his hand. It was covered with blood, half dried. The pilot gasped again.
"And your back!"
Indy looked at the back of his jacket- a large blood splatter covered most of it.
"Well kid, it ain't me." His face suddenly paled. If it wasn't him…
"Shit," he breathed. "Carmen."
He led the way, running, with the young pilot and his first aid kit right behind him.
Carmen was no longer leaning against the tree where he'd left her, but her mark remained- a long trail of blood ran down the trunk. This blood trail then continued in a sporadic manner away from the helicopter and clearing, until Indy finally saw a patch of red fabric through the trees. What he saw broke his heart- somehow, Carmen had stripped off her red hat and coat, and was attempting to set fire to them, but her reactions were so dulled by pain and blood loss that she couldn't strike a match. He didn't wait to witness any more, running toward the weak figure on the ground.
"Carmen! God, Carmen, where are you hit? Carmen!"
Dazed eyes looked at him- then somehow, she managed her smile.
"I think there's nothing you can do, Indy."
She didn't protests when the red cross pilot ripped open her shirt, began heavily padding her wound- simply too weak to do more than moan.
"Indy, please- the red. Destroy it. Don't let me die."
The young man injected painkillers, but Carmen had already fainted. Indy lifted her as carefully as he could, then moved as fast as possible to the helicopter- but at the last moment, told the pilot to grab the hat and coat.
To her immense surprise, Carmen woke up in pain. Surely once you were dead, you shouldn't- couldn't- suffer any more. It really was immensely unfair. She opened her eyes and found only blinding white light- this, at least, seemed right, although she never though she'd end up by the pearly gates as opposed to down below. Besides, she hurt.
Her eyes began to adjust to the light, and shapes emerged- a wall, ceiling, beds. Hospital, she dimly realised, she was in a hospital. That probably meant that she wasn't actually dead. She was having trouble making her mind work out any more than that, as thinking was difficult though pain and a haze of sleep. She heard a low moan from somewhere, then realised she was the one who had made the sound.
Indiana was kicked back in his chair; alternately staring at the pale figure in the bed beside him, and at the pile of freshly laundered and repaired red fabric in his lap. He thought he'd worked out Carmen's last cryptic comment. She was dying, she'd been certain of that- for all that she was still breathing, she may still be right. Yet she'd asked him not to let her die- not to let Carmen Sandiego die. Not to let, perhaps, the legend of the uncatchable thief in red die. After all, a body without the red hat and coat would never be connected with the vivacious thief. ACME, museum curators, the police- they could all search as hard as they wanted, but if the trench coat and fedora were burned, they would never find her.
But yet- she wasn't dead yet. It had been touch and go on the helicopter- the pilot yelling back urgent instructions to Indy on how to keep her alive whilst on route the hospital, and once there, the surgeons had taken over. But now, it was up to her. For three days, modern medicine had fought for her life- and left her comatose. If she stayed that way, a slow deterioration and death were expected. It was up to her- and she needed to wake up.
His ruminations were cut short by a soft, low moan, and he leapt out of his chair so fast that it was knocked over behind him. He knelt beside her, reaching over to stroke her brow. Her eyes fluttered open again at his touch, and Indy felt a drop of liquid on his own cheek.
"Welcome back, Carmen. I didn't know if you would."
She smiled gently back- then pulled that impossible, naughty grin out, just for a second.
"Well, I figure someone has to test the security on that helm."
He voice was weak, and her eyes were closed again by the end of the sentence- asleep again, where the pain couldn't touch her. But Indy laughed. He lifted the sheet, and placed the red bundle of hat and coat into her arms. Now he could leave.
"Until next time, Carmen."
He walked out of the ward, heading home to his students and his tweed suit- and towards the next bizarre theft by a bold thief in red, with her merry laugh and taunting manner.
He was looking forward to it.