It's a holdover from spending every afternoon she could snatch with Grosky, chasing the petty criminals of London. The moment someone shouts, "Stop, thief!" (even if it is in French), Emmy is off and running—and then turning back to snatch up her textbooks with a muffled curse. They're heavy and they'll slow her down but she's finally, finally in photography school and so help her she's not leaving her coursework unguarded.
Carmen, on the other hand, has been browsing the secondhand store all afternoon, waiting for her carefully planned trap to spring. The coat is an unexpected find—and a snap decision, when the cry goes up. She thrusts a handful of francs at the counter girl and darts out, red fabric rippling in her wake.
Emmy pauses on a rooftop, watching the cutpurse. He's perched himself, bird-like, on the edge of a gargoyle-shaped fountain. More interesting, however, are the other people on the ground—some obviously in plainclothes disguises, others in matching yellow-and-orange jackets, but all creeping toward the edges of the plaza, just out of bird-man's sight.
A trap? She eases into a crouch, not quite hidden by a brick chimney, holding herself still. Let's see it spring.
A sable-haired woman in a long red coat steps into a side street. She waves over a dozen of the watchers and addresses them in words too low to hear, combined with a number of unfamiliar hand signals. The matching jackets nod and fan out.
The lady in red is in charge. She's the mastermind behind the whole thing. Incredible.
Then the bird-man shifts his weight. Something's wrong. He knows there are hunters; he's ready for them. How Emmy knows it, she couldn't say. But somebody's going to get hurt, unless…
She creeps around the side the chimney, rifling through her bookbag.
Carmen puts two fingers in her mouth and whistles. A small army of gumshoes materializes around the would-be thief. Of course, he's more than a thief—she's been hunting members of the notorious Cosmo Gang for months.
Which is why she feels like ten times the rookie she is when the man first pulls a knife, then throws a smoke bomb.
A flicker of yellow moves at the top of the haze.
Thud.
Splash!
Carmen wipes streaming eyes, moving carefully toward the fountain as the smoke begins to clear. The target's been knocked out cold—with his head above water, fortunately. Beside him is what appears to be the blunt instrument: a now-drenched copy of Making An Impact: A History of Photography and Social Change.
"Well," Carmen says at last, "don't just stand there, agents."
As her colleagues scramble to get the man out of the water and into handcuffs, the lady in red scans the rooftops, tracing the trajectory of the book.
Deep brown eyes look down at her.
Oh, my.
Emmy closes her eyes for a moment. It is going to be hell replacing that textbook, but—looks like everyone's okay.
When she opens them again, the lady in red is looking directly at her. Shit!
She's debating whether to run when the woman smiles, and inclines her head in invitation. She's younger than she'd first appeared—in fact, Emmy realizes, the two of them are probably about the same age.
I want to know how long she's been planning that thing.
Carmen watches as her rescuer lowers her bookbag off the roof, then lets it go and eases to the edge herself. She lands with an almost balletic grace, retrieves the bag, and looks up.
Carmen steps toward her. What to say? She settles for, "Merci beaucoup."
The other girl blinks, then smiles a little. "Vous avez travaillé…" She squinches her eyes shut for a moment, then gives up. "You must have put a lot of effort into that," she says in English, and waves a hand toward the fountain. "Seemed a shame to let him fly the coop so easily."
Carmen feels her own smile widening. Even at ACME, it's rare to meet someone who appreciates the work involved in making and executing a well-honed plan. "Well, your impressive aim has saved us all from a rather embarrassing failure." She extends a hand. "Carmen Sandiego. ACME Detective Agency, San Francisco."
"Emmy Altava… photography student." They shake.
"Can I buy you coffee, Emmy?" Carmen asks. "Once we're done here, of course." Now, where did that come from? She's barely met the woman.
Yes… but I want to know where she learned to climb roofs like that.
Emmy's entire face lights up. "I'd like that. Carmen."