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The Broken Silence
Chapter 23
The Whole World is Broken
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Chase grumbled irritably to himself as he walked down the street. The base was out of coffee and now he had to actually walk to go buy some more. He suspected the mime pretty much lived on coffee, because the boy was always nursing a large cup of it, but Chase had yet to catch him stealing any out of his stash. The only thing Chase could figure was that the mime stole it at some point during the night. Every morning when Chase would go to brew a pot, he would discover more of his coffee missing. He hadn't accused the mime of anything yet, mostly because he didn't understand a single thing he tried to sign. He decided he would let it go until he caught him in the act.
Zack flat-out refused to allow Chase to drive his car, stating that Chase's driving record was reason enough. Chase had no choice but to walk the five blocks to the nearest grocery store to buy another bag of coffee, and he wasn't happy about it. By the time he made it to the store, he was in a foul mood, and as he started to enter, two men shoved past him running as fast as they could.
"Merde!" Chase exclaimed in surprise, and then he got angry. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!"
They didn't so much as look back as they continued running. Muttering angrily to himself about rude Americans, Chase entered the store and stepped over the fallen security guard without even really seeing the man.
"Disgraceful store." Chase grumbled, observing the mess that littered the floor in front of him.
Knowing Walmart had a bad reputation for being low-class, he simply began stepping over the various product laying all over the floor.
As Chase made his way deeper into the store, he saw the messes only got worse as he went along. There were shattered bottles, liquid and food on the floors and several shelves were completely collapsed. It looked like a hurricane had struck the store, and he wondered where all the employees were. Why weren't they cleaning any of this disgusting mess? He wandered around through the aisles, but couldn't seem to find coffee anywhere. His patience was paper thin and when he finally saw an employee at the end of one of the aisles, he pointed a finger at her.
"WHERE IS THE COFFEE IN THIS DISGRACEFUL STORE?"
She stared at him with wide eyes and Chase frowned.
"Please." he added.
When she simply began backing away from him slowly, Chase let out a huff. "UGH, Why do I even bother. This would never happen in France. The French know how to run a store! I WILL NOT BE BACK TO THIS STORE!"
Storming away from the employee, he made his way up another trashed aisle, knowing there had to be coffee somewhere. As he walked along, he took a deep breath and he could suddenly smell coffee, and so he followed the scent up two aisles. He found hundreds of burst bags of coffee, with millions of coffee beans spilled across the floor.
"A sad sight." Chase said, looking down at the mess. "These Americans are cruel and uncouth... What a shame."
Digging through the mess, Chase lifted up part of a shelf and saw a few in-tact bags of coffee. He grabbed two of the biggest bags he could reach, and then allowed the shelf to drop back down. As he made his way back to the front of the store, he became aware of employees running frantically past him. Ignoring the foolishness, he headed for the checkouts, but saw no one was there. He waited for a few minutes, but there was no one in sight, and he felt his annoyance increase. Scowling, Chase instead went to the self check-out near the door.
Chase tried to scan the coffee, but the machine made an angry sound.
"Please remove all items from the scale and try scanning your item again."
Chase glanced down and saw his hand was resting on the scale and quickly removed it. He tried to scan again, but the same noise happened.
"Please remove all items in the bagging area prior to scanning your first item."
"Ugh. This is ridiculous!" Chase complained, glancing over and seeing someone had left a basket in the bagging area.
Letting out a sigh, he placed the basket on the floor and tried for the third time. This time there was a normal ding as the coffee was scanned. Satisfied, he scanned the second one only for there to be another angry noise.
"Please place all scanned items in the bagging area."
"Oh for the love of-"
Chase tossed the bag of coffee into the bagging area and then glared at the screen, waiting for the error to clear. He then scanned the second bag and it successfully scanned through. He placed it in the bagging area, but then there was an angry ding.
"The weight in the bagging area does not match the items purchased. Please remove any unpaid items and scan them now."
Chase let out a long, and frustrated breath and then noticed he was leaning against the bagging area. He stepped away from it and watched as something happened on the screen.
"Assistance is required. Someone will be with you shortly."
"GAH! I HATE THIS COUNTRY!" he bellowed, punching the screen with his fist.
Suddenly the message cleared.
"Please select payment method."
"Finally." Chase muttered, selecting the option for cash.
"Please insert bills into the bill accepter."
Chase reached into his jacket pocket and then he suddenly felt complete and utter defeat. "I forgot my wallet..."
"Chase?" a very familiar voice said from behind him.
Chase spun around and came face to face with Julia Argent. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, her gaze taking in the long and ugly scar across his face.
"Oh, Chase! What happened?!" she asked, reaching out a hand towards the wound.
Chase caught her wrist, and then gently lowered it away from his face. "How did you find me?" he demanded, glancing around for signs of A.C.M.E.
"Er...I kind of heard you." she admitted. "...from all the way outside."
Chase was still looking around in a paranoid fashion, and she put a calming hand on his arm.
"It's just me here." she assured him. "I just want to talk to you."
Chase looked down at her and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Her wide and innocent eyes were completely genuine, and Chase frowned.
"What are you doing here, Miss. Argent?"
"I came to learn the truth." she told him.
"Please insert bills into the bill accepter."
"The truth, Miss Argent? Why would A.C.M.E just now start caring about the truth?"
Julia was a little taken aback by the bitterness in his tone. "Chase...you know me. You know I only want to do the right thing. How can I know what's right if you won't even talk to me?"
Chase crossed his arms and looked away. Julia frowned at him, and then gently tugged on his arm so he was once again facing her.
"Chase, I know you're a good person, and I know you only fight for justice. I'm certain A.C.M.E is wrong about you, and I need to learn what happened. Please talk to me!"
"Please insert bills into the bill accepter."
Julia glanced at the machine. "You can finish your transaction, and then we can go get a cup of coffee if you like?"
Chase flushed, and mumbled something under his breath about changing his mind. Julia suspected Chase had forgotten his wallet, which happened all the time when they were partners. Without a word, she reached into her purse and pulled out her own wallet.
"Miss Argent, what are you doing?" Chase asked impatiently. "I can buy my own coffee."
"Yes, of course you can, but this time is going to be my treat." she answered, inserting twenty-five dollars into the machine.
Chase flushed even more, but said nothing as the machine spit out her change and printed a receipt. She then placed his coffee into a grocery bag and handed it to him.
"How did you even get in here?" she asked. "The store's closed because it was vandalized. I heard about it on the radio and came to investigate."
Chase glanced around himself in confusion, just now putting two and two together. "...oh. I just walked in... I was wondering what all the mess was about."
"I had to show them my Interpol I.D to come in, and the police were waiting outside to arrest you. They seem to think you were somehow involved in the vandalism."
"Preposterous!" Chase said angrily.
"I told them you were my partner." Julia said, offering him a smile. "Let's get out of here and then we can talk, okay?"
Chase gave another glance around, and then eyed Julia sternly. "I will speak with you, Miss Argent, but if this is a trick, I will never forgive you."
Julia nodded and adjusted her glasses. "Understood."
As they walked from the store, Chase saw a swarm of police officers and news reporters outside. He passed them by a bit nervously, and then followed Julia into the parking lot. Suddenly, he heard Carmen come across his com.
"Devineaux?"
"Yes, I'm here." Chase replied, pressing a finger to the com.
Julia watched him, quickly realizing he had a state-of-the-art com. He was most likely communicating with Carmen Sandiego, and she watched him in interest.
Chase eyed Julia with suspicious eyes, and then stepped a few steps away so he could privately have a conversation with Carmen. He was only turned away for a minute, and then he approached Julia.
"I need to go." he told her. "Something important came up."
"But, Chase, I need to speak with you!" Julia protested.
Chase rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Give me your phone number, Miss Argent. I will call you when I have the chance."
Julia hurriedly pulled a pen and paper out of her purse and scribbled her number on it. Chase glanced down at it, nodded and then turned to leave.
"Do not follow me, Miss Argent otherwise you will never hear from me again."
"I won't follow." Julia promised.
"Goodbye Miss Argent. I will be in touch."
Julia frowned as she watched him walk away and clenched her fists. Something was definitely happening, and she needed to know what. What had happened to Chase's face? What could have caused such a terrible scar?
Letting out a worried sigh, Julia turned and headed in the direction of her car. All she could do was wait for his call.
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"I'm on scene where two men destroyed a local department store and then fled the scene. Video surveillance caught the entire act on tape, and if anyone recognizes these two men, you are to contact your local law enforcement immediately."
Team Red sat in the living room staring at the television screen watching the news as Neal and Dash completely destroyed a Walmart while trying to kill one another.
"That is a very, very odd choice of partnership." Carmen observed. "Those two couldn't be more of complete opposites."
Shadowsan scratched at his chin. "It is indeed unusual." he agreed.
"Play it again!" Tigress demanded, barely able to choke out the words past her hysterical laughter. "Oh, my god! This is the most hilarious thing I've ever seen! Did you see Dash Haber's face when he got slammed into the floor? Play it again. Play it again!"
Player played the clip on a loop for Tigress, and then asked. "Do you think they're here to steal something?"
"Most likely, because what else could it be? There are plenty of valuable things in the museums."
"Hopefully they're not here to track down our new family members." Player promised. "I'll do some sleuthing and see if I can figure it out."
"Leave the video looping!" Tigress ordered.
Shadowsan stared thoughtfully at the screen. "That partnership is pure chaos and will never work. I don't know what V.I.L.E were thinking partnering Neal the Eel and Dash Haber together."
Carmen smirked. "It's true, slime and Gucci don't mix well."
Zack recognized Dash but had never actually met Neal before. "That's the slippery guy?" he questioned.
El Topo nodded. "Neal the Eel is well known amongst operatives..."
Le Chèvre crossed his arms. "He's disgusting." he commented. "Ugh."
El Topo hesitated and then nodded his agreement. "He is." he confirmed.
"It's odd." Shadowsan commented. "Dash Haber is not even officially a real operative, he just happens to be a talented courier. Why they would pair him up with a seasoned operative is beyond me. Especially this seasoned operative."
Ivy shot him a grin. "Not a fan of the Oily Wonder?" she teased.
"Neal is..." Shadowsan trailed off as he struggled to find the right words to describe him. "...a difficult person to get along with."
"Because he's slimy?" Zack questioned.
"No, because of his mouth." Shadowsan grumbled. "Out of all the students I taught over the years, he is the only one who succeeded in making me lose my temper during class."
Everyone stared at him with wide eyes. They had never seen Shadowsan fully lose his temper, not even during fights.
"What did he do?" Carmen asked in awe.
"No, it doesn't matter. We should focus on the task at hand."
"Oh, come on!" Zack whined. "Tell uuuuuuus!"
Shadowsan made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat.
"Tell us, tell us, tell us!" Zack and Ivy chanted, smiling at him widely.
Shadowsan sighed. "Very well." he said in a resigned voice. "This has no importance to the current mission, but I suppose I can tell you a little bit about Neal the Eel."
Everyone was staring at him in complete interest and so Shadowsan sat back, his tone entering teacher mode. "Neal was part of the class of 2005. He was eighteen when he entered the academy, and didn't show any real promise as an operative. He was incredibly shy, lacked confidence and was bullied excessively. We were actually planning on sending him home after first term."
"Oh, ouch." Zack commented. "That's harsh."
Carmen frowned, knowing this sounded nothing like the Neal she knew. "What changed?" she asked.
Shadowsan closed his eyes and a momentary look of guilt crossed his face. "He crawled into a vent to escape his bullies and became stuck."
Carmen's frown deepened, this seeming really familiar to her.
"And?" Ivy prompted.
"He was deep within the foundations of the building and we weren't able to rescue him. V.I.L.E decided they had no choice but to leave him to die. He stayed in there for nearly 4 days before he managed to escape."
Carmen had a brief flash of memory, remembering being inside a vent where there was an older boy crying. She remembered thinking it strange to see one of the big kids crying, and she tried to cheer him up. That was all she could remember, and she frowned. Was that boy Neal? She couldn't think of anyone else who would crawl through such narrow spaces, and knew it probably was. Did she meet him while he was trapped in the vents, or was that during a different time? Carmen wished she could remember, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't
"How did he manage to get himself out?" El Topo asked, knowing how horrible it would've been to be trapped in such a small and dark spot. He himself had been trapped a few times when his tunnels collapsed, and it was terrifying.
"He would never say." Shadowsan replied. "He was different from that point on, and it was like he was a completely new person. It was like his time in that vent changed his whole personality. Perhaps the fear of his own demise made his mind fracture, or perhaps it was the dehydration. Whatever it was, he came out changed."
Zack was horrified. "He was trapped in a vent for four days?! Without food or water?"
"That is correct."
Zack felt sick just thinking about it.
"Neal was suddenly cocky, overly confident, and fearless enough to start fighting back against his bullies. It was like he no longer feared death, and he took unnecessary risks during combat. He quickly began improving in all his classes, and was allowed to finish out the year."
"But he didn't improve in your class?" Zack guessed.
Shadowsan looked like it pained him to admit it, but he said "He did excellent in my class. Once of the best I've ever had. He's extremely quick and nimble."
"Then what was the problem?" Ivy demanded. "Sounds like he was the ideal V.I.L.E student."
Shadowsan scowled. "With his personality change came other problems. He no longer respected the faculty because he blamed us for leaving him in the vents to die. He never actually said so, but I always suspected it. He wasn't outright disrespectful, and he did everything he needed to for class, but he started doing little things to annoy me.
It wasn't much at first, just the occasional inappropriate origami shape left tucked into his homework, or he'd use neon-coloured paper instead of white. Little things like that. As the second term progressed, he began escalating his petty annoyances. He would ask questions in class, but simply not stop talking once he got started. No matter what I responded to him, he would ask question after question, but in a completely polite and respectful tone. Sometimes he would find a way to waste the entire class, and none of my lectures or detentions ever seemed to have an effect on him.
Finally, he began teasing the other students and causing problems in the middle of class. He enjoyed 'sliming' other students with his slick suit, and he simply wouldn't stop. I reached my limits when he tried doing the same thing to me."
Carmen gasped. "He didn't!"
Every former V.I.L.E operative in the room stared at him in complete horror.
"Oh my god!" Tigress commented. "And you didn't snap his greasy little throat?"
Shadowsan frowned for a moment before he continued. "I was giving a lecture about the importance of silence, and he wouldn't stop talking. I knew he was doing it on purpose just to annoy me and I was beginning to lose my patience. I ordered him to the front of the class to prove he could be quiet if the need arose, and it didn't go well. He put an arm around my shoulders and when I pushed him away, he left slime all across my clothes. That I could have ignored, but it was what he did next that caused me to lose my temper. I ordered the class to close their eyes, and told Neal to choose anyone in class to target and try to strike them without making a single sound."
Carmen could already see where this was going and winced. "He chose you." she said.
Shadowsan nodded. "He chose me."
He got more horrified looks.
"When I look back on it now, it was my fault for not being more vigilant. I had turned to face the class so I could watch who he chose, and Neal took that opportunity to drop to the floor and swipe my feet out from under me. It took me by surprise and he successfully knocked me off my feet.
He looked so very smug as he looked down at me and I still remember what he said perfectly. 'Why Instructor Shadowsan, I believe I succeeded!'. It was the expression on his face that made me lose my temper. I got back to my feet and I slapped him as hard as I could across the face. I then made him kneel in front of the class and hold a chair over his head for the remainder of the day while I lectured him publicly in front of everyone. I later regretted losing my temper the way I did because Neal had a hand-shaped bruise on his face for the next two weeks."
"To be fair, he seemed to have had it coming." Ivy said. "I bet he never did anything like that again!"
"He was well-behaved for about a day." Shadowsan replied with a roll of his eyes. "He never dared attack me again, but he was an irritation until the day he graduated. He works best when he's alone which makes this partnership with Dash Haber so bizarre."
"Sheena, didn't you send Neal to the medical bay once?" El Topo asked, scratching his head thoughtfully.
Tigress smirked proudly. "Sure did. Creep was hitting on me at the Yule party. Never heard a man scream like that before in my life. I don't know why you liked him, Antonio."
El Topo shrugged. "He may be a bit...gross, but he's actually quite nice when you get to know him. He's one of the few operatives that you can ask for help without worrying about owing him anything in return."
"He's so creepy!" Tigress commented. "He's always slithering through vents, leaving his slime behind everywhere he goes. You heard Shadowsan's story! The guy is brain-damaged."
El Topo frowned at her. "Don't forget it was Neal who traced Carmen to The United States. Without him, we never would have known where to go."
Carmen was alarmed. "Wait what?" she demanded. "Neal the Eel traced our location?"
El Topo nodded. "He traced the payment you made to the French hospital in Poitiers."
Carmen was now concerned. "I didn't know Neal could hack!" she exclaimed, a bit worried. "What else does he know? Did he trace us to San Diego?"
El Topo gave her an uncertain shrug. "I'm sorry...I do not know."
Carmen pressed her com. "Player, Neal the Eel is a hacker. Be careful what you do online or he could trace your location."
Player snorted. "Not a chance, Red, I have better security than even V.I.L.E. No one is finding me."
"Just be careful." she advised him.
"Aye aye." the boy replied.
Tigress glanced once more at the fight on the screen. "It's going to be so much fun ripping this grease-stains throat out."
"We don't kill on this team, remember?" El Topo scolded. "We should avoid hurting anyone if we can help it."
Tigress scoffed. "Whatever you say, Antonio...Say, Mime Bomb, didn't you partner with him for a while?"
Mime Bomb held up his index finger.
"Once?" Zack guessed, and Mime Bomb nodded.
"He was partnered with Neal just for his first mission." Shadowsan stated. "Both tend to work better alone and so it was rare we gave them partners after that."
Tigress' gaze went back to the fight on the tv screen and she let out another snort. "Oh, this is too good." she commented. "I wonder what it is they're fighting over?"
"Hard to tell." Carmen said, squinting at the flat beige item that Dash clutched in his hands. "It looks like an envelope. I wish there was audio on this video."
"I can't wait to claw both of these losers right in the face." Tigress commented, grinning widely. "I've been itching for a good fight! You should let me handle them!"
"We're not going to jump into anything without first getting all the facts." Carmen replied. "We have no idea why they're here, and we'll wait to see what Player finds out before tracking them down."
Tigress let out a sigh. "Fine, but I call dibs on fighting the dweebs."
"You can't just call 'dibs' on a mission, Sheena. That's not how it works. We will face any mission together as a team."
"That's stupid." Tigress commented. "We should be able to have some fun once in a while."
"Sheena." Carmen began with a sigh. "We really need to have a talk about how things work in this team."
"Where is Agent Doesntknow, anyway? Why isn't he here?" Tigress demanded.
"He went out this morning to run a few errands." Carmen replied.
"Hopefully he doesn't run into V.I.L.E." Antonio said worriedly.
Carmen frowned, and then pressed her com. "Devineaux?"
"Yes, I'm here." Chase replied a moment later.
"There's been some V.I.L.E activity in the area and you should come back to base." Carmen instructed.
"I'm assuming you mean what happened at Walmart?" he questioned.
"You know about that?"
"Oui. I am standing on site right now." he said.
"It's too dangerous, Chase, come back to base at once."
Chase let out a long and aggravated sigh. "Very well. I'm on my way."
"I still say I should get dibs on the fight." Tigress said petulantly.
"And I said no." Carmen responded, getting irritated.
"I'm the best fighter in our group!"
"You always lost against me!"
As they continued arguing back and forth, Mime Bomb got up from the couch and made his way back to his room. Once he was by himself, he took a seat on his bed and pulled a sheet of paper out from under his pillow. It was his lost person's poster that he'd printed out earlier that day, and he stared down at it with a frown. His gaze settled on his sister's name at the bottom of the page, and he reached out and ran his fingers along her name, a strange sadness filling him. Even 15 years later she was still looking for him, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. He'd assumed she had forgotten about him, and he honestly felt a bit guilty about not even thinking about her in years.
They were complete opposites in every way, and whereas he liked drama and the arts, she had been a fearless jock only interested in sports. He remembered how Alys had been protective of him as a kid, and she had fearlessly kept the bullies away from him when he entered school. They'd been happy back then before-
Mime Bomb's hand crinkled the paper as he clenched his hand. He took a deep breath and then straightened the paper, his gaze settling on the phone number. His sister's phone number. His gaze then moved over to Zack's bed where the other boy had left his cell phone. He stared long and hard at the phone and then reached over and grabbed it. Not quite sure what he was hoping to accomplish with this, he unlocked the phone and then began dialing the country code for Wales. As he typed his sister's number in, he paused when he came to the last number. Taking another deep breath, he finished dialing and lifted the phone to his ear and he waited as the call began to ring through.
"Bore da." a woman's voice answered.
Mime Bomb stopped breathing. He didn't recognize the voice, but his sister was a child the last time he saw her. Was this Alys?
"Bore da?" the woman repeated.
Mime Bomb still didn't breathe, not really sure what to do.
"Bore da? Hello?" the woman repeated, sounding a bit confused. "[[Who would be calling me from California?]] she muttered to herself in Welsh.
It had been so long since Mime Bomb had heard anyone speak Welsh that he accidentally released his breath.
The woman immediately responded in English. "Look, creepy weirdo breathing into the phone, I don't have all day."
Mime Bomb of course said nothing.
The woman let out an angry sigh. "What kind of scam are you creeps trying to pull this time? I'm not an idiot and I'm not going to fall for whatever it is. Either you speak up now or I'm going to hunt you down and shove your head so far up your arse you'll be smelling your lungs!"
Mime Bomb was now 100% certain this was Alys.
"Call here again, and you'll regret it!" Alys snarled into the phone disconnecting the call.
Mime Bomb slowly lowered the phone and stared down at it, not sure how he felt now. He thought by just calling her, it might help him get past this confused and sad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it didn't.
Mime Bomb hadn't thought about Wales in an incredibly long time, and his thoughts turned to the rain and fog he remembered that seemed to always surround Wales. He remembered the smell of the wet fields around their property, and the feeling of the cold rain as it soaked into him as he jumped in puddles. He used to love playing in the rain, and would spend hours simply hopping from one puddle to another. He loved making up elaborate stories about why he was trapped in the rain, pretending he was exploring a planet where it only rained or that he was an explorer in a rain forest.
He was completely content to play by himself in the rain, and by the time he would finally trudge back inside, he'd be cold, soaking wet and covered in mud. His grandmother would chide him angrily as she ushered him into a warm bath, and his mother would simply laugh, always amused by his antics.
Mime Bomb clenched a fist. He didn't have a lot of memories of his mother, but all the ones he did have were good ones. She was always smiling and she liked to laugh, and she loved the arts as much as he did. They were both huge theater nerds and she took him to all the local plays and performances in town. She encouraged his interests and made sure he attended any auditions for children. It was through this that Mime Bomb got stage experience, and he'd performed in several plays and even a few commercials. His grandmother had been extremely disapproving, thinking Mime Bomb should have been playing sports instead of wearing make-up on a stage. No one paid her any attention however. His sister was the athlete in the family, and he had been perfectly content to leave the sports to her.
Although most of his memories were a bit fuzzy, one stood out perfectly clear in his mind. He could remember every detail of the time after his mother's death.
It had been an extremely bitter winter the year his mother died. They got an unexpected blizzard and his mother wasn't prepared for it. She had hit a patch of black ice on the road, and struck a tree at full speed. 'She had died on impact and there was no suffering' is what he later overheard the adults saying, but that wasn't the case for his sister. She had been hurt badly and almost hadn't survived. Her spine had been fractured and there was no chance of her ever walking again. He hadn't really understood what that meant at the time, but when she finally came home from the hospital, she was in a wheelchair.
Mime Bomb remembered approaching his mother's casket at the funeral, still not really believing it was her. He had stared at the body carefully, determined to see proof this was not her. He had reached out and placed his hand on her cheek and he remembered the body was cold and didn't feel right under his fingers. The skin almost didn't feel real, and he gave it a hesitant poke. It was waxy and stiff and felt completely wrong. He had jerked his hand back in fear so fast he rocked the casket, and several men quickly steadied it before it could fall. Mime Bomb's grandmother had sent him a furious look for misbehaving, and he could hear people whispering around him.
"She was going to pick him up from some sort of club when she crashed."
"Yes, I heard he didn't want to carpool with the other kids and demanded she come get him."
"It was because of him she was out in that mess to begin with."
"She always did give that boy everything he wanted."
"Spoiled child."
"What a shame."
"She was such a lovely woman."
Mime Bomb had then run from the church as his grandmother angrily called after him. What they said was all true. One of the kids from the drama class had been bullying him and he didn't want to carpool with him. He had called up his mother and begged and pleaded for her to come get him, and she had reluctantly agreed. It was his fault she had gone out in the storm, and it was his fault she had died. Alys would never be able to walk again, and he was to blame. His grandmother had been cold and distant with him ever since the accident and Mime Bomb wished with all his heart his mother would come back. Living in the house without her was torture, and he slept in her room at night just so he could be surrounded by her scent. Her perfume smelled of lilacs and he still remembered it perfectly, even after all these years.
Alys was understandably depressed after the accident and their grandmother didn't know what to do with a girl so sad and so filled with rage. She was angry at the injustice of it all, and took out her frustration on everyone around her. Alys had heard the adults speaking and she had heard them say the accident was Mime Bomb's fault, and she believed it. The last thing she ever said to him before she was sent away to boarding school was that she hated him and she hoped he died. He hadn't seen or spoken to her since.
Mime Bomb glanced back down at the missing persons poster. He was certain she hated him, but yet she had been searching for him all these years. Why did she want to find him? Did she finally want to say all the angry things she'd been harbouring since the accident? What was he supposed to do now? Forget he found out she was looking for him? A hollow numbness seemed to press on his chest, and Mime Bomb had no idea what to do. He wasn't sure he could handle her rejection, and was terrified of what she would say. It felt like a heavy pressure was beginning to suffocate him, and Mime Bomb took a deep and shaky breath.
The bedroom opened and Zack walked in, smiling over at him brightly. The smile dropped away in an instant at the sight of Mime Bomb's expression, and he rushed over to him, his face bunched in concern.
"Mime Bomb?" he asked, sounding a bit alarmed. "What's the matter?"
Mime Bomb simply stared at him in confusion.
Zack reached out and placed his hands on Mime Bomb's shoulders. "Come on, buddy, don't look at me like that! What happened?"
Mime Bomb had no idea why Zack was acting like this and simply shook his head.
"Come on, man, why are you crying? Tell me so I can help."
Mime Bomb frowned. Crying? What was Zack talking about? He wasn't crying! Raising a hand to his face, his fingers came back wet. Oh. He really was crying. He stared at his wet fingers feeling somewhat detached, not even realizing he was that upset over this. Zack glanced down at the poster resting on Mime Bomb's lap, and understanding crossed his face.
Without another word, he pulled Mime Bomb into a tight hug. Mime Bomb stared over Zack's shoulder at the wall, still feeling a cold numbness deep within his chest. His vision began to blur and when he blinked, he felt the hotness of tears make their way down his face.
His breath then caught in his throat and he melted into the hug, not even trying to hold back his silent sobs. He felt Zack tighten his hold on him, and Mime Bomb closed his eyes, the tension in his chest finally beginning to lessen.
"You want to see her, don't you." It wasn't a question.
Mime Bomb wasn't even able to look at him, embarrassed and unable to stop the tears. He didn't understand why he was so upset over this, and was feeling confused and stressed. Did he want to see her? Did he miss Alys, or was this something else? He didn't even know what she looked like, the only face he could see in his mind was the face of a child from 15 years ago.
"You know, for a long time, Ivy was the only family I had and we depended on each other for everything. I know how important family is, and your sister is the only blood family you have left. You've been alone for so long, and it's only natural to want to reconnect with her. She's looking for ya, bud, and I think you need to see her."
Mime Bomb shook his head and Zack glanced down at him.
"No? Why not?"
Mime Bomb gripped his shirt tightly but made no move to communicate.
"Did she do something to you?"
Mime Bomb shook his head and then pointed at himself, violently jabbing his finger into his own shoulder. Zack frowned, thoroughly confused.
"She didn't do something, but you did?" he guessed.
Mime Bomb nodded, and averted his gaze.
"Weren't you only seven when you last saw her?"
Another nod.
"What could you possibly have done to her?" he demanded.
Mime Bomb leaned back away from him and then wiped at his eyes. He then punched one hand into the other.
"You hit her?"
Mime Bomb shook his head and pointed to Zack's Nascar poster and then repeated the gesture. "You...You caused the car accident?" Zack said hesitantly.
Mime Bomb nodded and then pointed to the missing person's poster.
"Are you trying to say you caused the car accident that killed your mother and hurt your sister?" Zack demanded, completely aghast.
Mime Bomb hunched in on himself and then nodded.
Zack reached out, took Mime Bomb by the shoulders and turned him so they were face to face. Zack's eyes were absolutely fierce and Mime Bomb was a bit taken aback by the ferocity of the look.
"You are not responsible for that car accident." Zack said, his tone not to be reckoned with. "You were just a kid waiting for his mom to pick him up and something terrible happened. The same thing could have happened at any time to anyone, and just because she was picking you up does not mean you are in any way responsible for it. It wasn't your fault."
Mime Bomb tried to look away but he was startled when Zack suddenly gave him a sharp shake.
"It wasn't your fault." he repeated.
A few more tears slid down Mime Bomb's cheeks and Zack gave him another shake.
"It wasn't your fault." he repeated again, just as firmly. "If I asked you to come pick me up at the mall and you got hurt in a car accident, would you blame me?"
Mime Bomb slowly shook his head.
"Do you think your sister blames you for the accident?"
Mime Bomb hesitated and then nodded.
"Why do you think she would blame you for this?"
Mime Bomb paused and then pointed to his mouth. Zack frowned at him, and so he mimed speaking and again pointed to his mouth.
"Talking?" Zack guessed and Mime Bomb nodded.
"She told you she blames you?"
Mime Bomb nodded and looked down at his lap, avoiding Zack's eyes. Zack tipped up Mime Bomb's chin, forcing him to maintain eye contact.
"Even if she did say that, she didn't mean it." he assured him. "Your sister was just a kid and she was angry and sad. She's been looking for you for so long and so hard, and there's no way she blames you for what happened."
Zack could see the fear and uncertainty in Mime Bomb's eyes and it killed him knowing Mime Bomb had been holding onto this guilt for 15 years.
"There's only one way to find out." Zack told him. "If she does blame you, then she's not worth knowing as a person. We know your value here, and we know you're not to blame. If she can't see how great of a person you are, then it's her loss not yours."
Mime Bomb grimaced, but didn't seem like he was going to disagree. Zack stared at him, making sure Mime Bomb seemed alright and then finally released his shoulders.
"There's only one thing for us to decide now." he told his friend.
Mime Bomb gave him a questioning look.
"When are we going to Wales?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Neal was resting face down on his bed, multiple ice-packs on his body, as he stared up at the television. Roosevelt had put on a rugby game for him, and at least now Neal had something to do while he laid there in agony. Turning his head slightly, he glanced over at Dash and saw he still hadn't come to yet. Dash had gotten it a lot worse than he did, because when it was Neal's turn to be beaten, Crackle discovered just how severe Neal's bruises were on his back. To Neal's humiliation, Crackle made him strip right in the middle of the room so he could see just how bad the damage was. Crackle was not happy about the extent of the bruises, and Neal knew most were from the rubble that struck him when he saved Dash's life. Crackle decided Neal was too injured to be beaten, and instead switched on the Crackle Rod.
Crackle then shocked him, and every time Neal began to recover, he was immediately shocked again. The power was just low enough that he never fully lost consciousness, and he felt the pain of every single shock as it coursed through him. He couldn't stop the screams that escaped him, but Crackle was relentless.
Neal was shocked and shocked until he was certain every muscle in his body had seized up, and then Crackle had turned the power up on the Crackle Rod and shocked him unconscious. When he awoke, he was laying in bed with ice-packs all over his body, and it was just Roosevelt and Dash in the room.
Roosevelt told him the others had gone out patrolling, and they were ordered to stay in the motel. Neal doubted he could have moved anyway. Roosevelt seemed like he was making an extra effort to be nice to him, and it was surprising when the other man put on a rugby game for him.
"How long was I out for?" Neal asked.
Roosevelt gave a shrug. "Hour maybe?"
Neal nodded, and silently watched a bit of the game, not really able to pay too much attention to it. After a while, there was a low groan from Dash and Neal saw him shift a bit. He watched him as he slowly came to, and when Dash finally opened his eyes, they looked at one another silently.
"No fighting." Roosevelt warned them both. "I'm supposed to rat on you if you fight."
Dash winced as he slowly rolled onto his side, and he looked Neal over, but couldn't see much of him because of all the ice-packs. "How bad did you get it?" he asked.
Neal knew Dash would be furious if he found out he hadn't been beaten, and so he deflected the question. "Crackle and the others went out patrolling for Team Red. Things are bound to get interesting soon."
Dash frowned at him and as he sat up, Neal caught sight of a nasty bruise across his side from where Crackle had struck him. "Team Red is not going to stand a chance against us." Dash told him. "They're too caught up 'doing the right thing' to ever finish any of us off. Even if we lose a few battles we'll eventually win the war. We're willing to go further than them, and we're willing to kill. We will win."
"Have you even killed anyone before?" Neal asked, cocking a brow in amusement. "You're talking about killing them so casually."
Dash gave him a dirty look. "Yes, I have had to kill before." he snapped.
Neal was skeptical. "Oh? How did you do it?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but it was with a gun. When I was sent up to Russia to check on a few things, I ran into trouble. Things were an enormous mess up there, and Professor Maelstrom needed it sorted out. I don't want to go into it, but I was left with no choice and had to shoot to survive. I killed five men that day."
Neal could see a brief haunted look flash through Dash's eyes as he recounted this, and realized the other man was telling the truth.
"Killing is never easy." Neal told him, his gaze growing distant. "You try not to think about it, but it stays with you forever. You think that you'll forget them over time, but you don't. You will always remember their faces."
Dash stared at him, his expression completely aghast. "Just how many people have you killed?!" he demanded.
Neal closed his eyes. "Too many." he was silent for a moment and then asked. "Are you certain you'll be alright killing people that you personally know?"
Dash was instantly offended. "Are you accusing me of being too weak to kill Carmen Sandiego?" he snarled.
"Killing someone you know is different than killing a stranger." Neal clarified. "I just want to make sure you're prepared for this. V.I.L.E never prepared me when they ordered me to kill someone I knew, and it was...difficult."
"Geez, just how hard did Crackle hit you in the head?" Dash demanded.
"Not as hard as I 'hit up' your sister last night, if you know what I mean." Neal teased.
Dash rolled his eyes. "I don't even have a sister."
"Fine, brother then, I'm not fussy."
"I don't have a brother either."
"Ah, so you grew up as an only child in your fancy mansion. No wonder you're such a prat."
"No fighting!" Roosevelt ordered. "Don't make me tell Crackle on you."
Neal sighed.
Dash stared at Neal in annoyance, but didn't reply. Slowly standing to his feet, he took a shaky step and then gripped the bedpost to steady himself. Waiting until the shakiness passed, he trudged his way to the bathroom without a word. Neal glanced back at the television screen, but couldn't enjoy the game in this condition.
"You can put it on football if you want." he told Roosevelt. "I'm probably going to take a nap."
Roosevelt didn't need to be told twice and snatched up the remote to change the channel as fast as he could.
"Rugby's still better." Neal commented, closing his eyes.
"You're lucky you're so hurt right now." Roosevelt muttered.
Neal gave a chuckle. "I feel very lucky right now, Roosey." he said, having a feeling the sarcasm would be lost on the other man.
Neal lightly dozed for a while, but was awakened when someone gently shook his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he saw Crackle kneeling down beside him.
"Go take a bath." Crackle ordered.
"Do I smell that bad, love?" Neal asked jokingly.
"I added some medicated powder to the bathwater and it should help with the bruises. Soak in the water for at least an hour, and then we'll apply some bruise balm. We need to get you back in top form as fast as possible."
Neal turned his head and saw everyone had returned and he hadn't heard them come in. "Did you find any signs of Team Red?" he asked.
Crackle frowned. "No, not yet. We were mostly getting a feel for the city during our patrol. I have a plan for drawing them out into the open, but I'll need your help to plant the information online. I'm thinking we should plan the fake heist in four days time if we don't locate Team Red."
Neal gave a nod.
"Can you get up?" Crackle asked him.
"We'll find out." Neal replied, slowly and painfully sitting up. Realizing he was still naked as he sat up, he wrapped a blanket around his waist, and then struggled to get up, his muscles aching from the repeated shocks. Crackle took him by an arm to help him up, and then Neal began limping his way towards the bathroom, ignoring how everyone stared at his bruises as he passed by.
Dash was horrified by the massive bruises that covered Neal's entire back and he shot Crackle a scared look.
"I didn't do that." Crackle replied. "Those bruises are from rubble that hit him at the parking garage."
Dash frowned, and glanced towards the closed bathroom door. He clearly remembered that when Neal dove into him at the parking garage, rubble had hit Neal hard in the back. Neal seemed fine at the time and he hadn't really given it much thought, but it was clear he'd been seriously hurt. Neal had gotten those injuries saving his life. Dash furrowed his brow and wasn't sure how he felt about that. Neal was an insufferable idiot, but he was still his teammate.
"Should he be taken to a doctor?" Dash asked.
Crackle shook his head. "He just needs time to heal. Hopefully he'll be less stiff by tomorrow, and everyone will be able to go out on patrol with us. Roosevelt should be able to get up tomorrow and join as well."
A little over an hour later Neal left the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, and smelling like medicine. He was walking better than before, and when he approached the bed, Crackle was opening a large jar of Dr. Vesalius' Bruise Balm. Dr. Vesalius, or more commonly known as Dr. Vess, was the highly valued V.I.L.E doctor responsible for any and all medical emergencies that happened within the V.I.L.E academy. He was a genius who worked closely with Dr. Bellum to invent new and sometimes questionable medical advancements. If this balm was one of his inventions, then it was guaranteed to both work and probably be extremely painful at the same time. Dr. Vess didn't care if his cures were painful as long as they did what they were supposed to, and Neal eyed the balm distrustfully.
"How'd you get that so fast?" he asked.
"When I saw your bruises yesterday I contacted V.I.L.E and had them send something for your injuries. It just arrived this afternoon."
Neal snorted. "What'd they do, Fedex it overnight?" His gaze then fell on an open Fedex box laying nearby. "Oh...they did."
"Lay on your stomach." Crackle ordered. "I need to apply the balm while the chemicals from the bath are still on your skin."
Neal gave him a nod, reaching for a pair of boxers from his dufflebag. Everyone averted their eyes as he dropped the towel to the floor, and as soon as he had the boxers on, he crawled onto the bed. As Crackle grabbed a handful of the balm, Neal squeezed his eyes closed, waiting for the pain. He winced as the cold balm touched his skin, and he waited, but surprisingly enough, there was no pain. Relaxing in relief, Neal laid still as Crackle very gently worked the balm into the bruises. When Crackle was done, new ice-packs were placed on his back and Neal groaned in complaint. He was already too cold, but knew there was nothing he could do about it.
"No moving unless you need the bathroom." Crackle ordered, screwing the lid back on the jar.
"Whatever you say, wombat." Neal said, resting his chin on one of his arms.
"We'll reapply tomorrow morning before patrol. The doctor said you'll need to keep using the balm until the bruises begin to fade."
"Did doctor creepy have anything else to say?" Neal asked in amusement.
"Yes, actually. He told me to inform you that you missed getting your flu shot. He recommends you get it before you catch the bad strain that's going around."
Neal rolled his eyes. "Okay."
"Since you have to remain in bed, I'm giving you some research to do." Crackle informed him, placing a tablet into his hands.
Neal gave him a look of disbelief. "What kind of research?"
"I want you to study the electrical components of an industrial mulcher."
Neal simply stared at him."...okay. Is there any particular reason why I'm going to be researching this?"
"It's part of the plan." Crackle told him. "If for any reason I can't do my part of the plan, I need you to be able to step in. Make sure you research it thoroughly."
Neal crinkled his nose in distaste. "Why me?" he demanded. "Dash is better at electrical stuff than I am."
"Because I'm still mad at you." Crackle informed him with a shrug, turning away.
"...fair enough." Neal said with a sigh. Considering he escaped a beating, he really couldn't complain too much. "Could you drag my bag over so I can get my headphones, please?"
Crackle placed the bag within easy reach of Neal and then said. "I'm going out to grab us supper. I'll be back in an hour or so. Everyone stay in the motel room."
As soon as he was gone, Neal let out another sigh of resignation, and then turned on the tablet.
"Neal?"
Neal glanced over at Dash who was staring at him with an unreadable look on his face.
"Yes, Dashielle Habernacle?" Neal asked with a smirk.
Surprisingly, Dash didn't get mad. "Look, about what happened at the parking garage..."
Neal furrowed his brow. "Yes?" he prompted in confusion.
"I know you got hurt when you pushed me out of the way in there and...and well...I just wanted to...I wanted to say..."
A sly grin started to form on Neal's face. "Are you trying to thank me?" he questioned.
A flush came to Dash's face and he gave him a glare with so much venom that Neal immediately laughed.
"No!" Dash snarled. "Of course not! I just wanted to tell you not to get hurt in such a stupid way again! You are jeopardizing our mission just because you were stupid enough to get hit with a chunk of concrete! Stupid!"
Neal gave him a wide and smug smile. "You're welcome."
Dash gave him an even angrier look, and then turned away. "I don't know why I even bothered trying to talk to you." he muttered. "You're impossible. I wish you had've been crushed under the rubble."
Neal laughed. "Love ya too, Dashie."
"Oh, shut up." Dash growled, flopping down on his bed, facing away from him.
Neal chuckled and then put on his headphones. Plugging the headphones into the tablet, he clicked on the YouTube app and began searching for industrial mulchers.
Every video looked absolutely dreadful and he was already bored and he hadn't even started yet. Scrolling through the videos for one that caught his eye, he spotted a video with a young man wearing a koala mask. Why was this man wearing a koala mask while repairing an industrial mulcher? The title of the video was 'How to reassemble industrial mulchers' and so it seemed like a good place to start. He glanced at the username and saw it was 'The Australian Electrical Genius'. Not as good as a Kiwi, but at least it was close to home. Clicking on the video, he prepared himself to be bored.
A man wearing a koala mask walked into the frame of the video and stood in front of a mulcher. Brown hair stuck out in messy spikes around the mask, and he struck a pose, hands on hips for the camera.
"Hello, loyal viewers!" said a very familiar voice. "Are you ready to rip this beaut apart?"
Neal's eyes widened and he stared down at the tablet in disbelief. No way! It couldn't be!
"You know I love a good solid piece of machinery, and this one is a veeery unique one. The wiring for this model is set up in a way I haven't seen before, and I'll show you what I mean."
Neal sat there completely transfixed throughout the entire 25 minute video, still uncertain whether he was right. When the end of the video came, the man once again stood in front of the camera.
"I suppose you've been wondering why I made this video while wearing a koala mask?"
"Yeah, kinda." Neal admitted out loud.
"I'm wearing it because I damn well felt like it." the man said, humour in his tone. "If you want to see more content from me, make sure to click on the link below to my main channel where I'm an Australian being an Australian."
Neal clicked that link without hesitation. He then clicked on a random video and sure enough it was a young Crackle that entered the frame. Crackle was dressed like the Crocodile Hunter, and Neal raised a brow in amusement. Crackle looked to be around 17 or so.
"G'day mates!" Crackle said with an over-exaggerated accent. "This is GrahamTheLadyHunter69 and today I will be showing you the proper way to approach a Kangaroo!"
"Oh my god!" Neal exclaimed in pure delight. "No way!"
He watched as Crackle imitated the Crocodile Hunter's speech and mannerisms as he started to sneak across a field towards a large kangaroo.
"Now we gotta be very quiet while approaching roos because they can be very temperamental. Just observe how I stealthily approach!"
Crackle crawled across the field on his belly silently and once he was right beside the Kangaroo, he pointed at it and yelled out as loudly as he could.
"Wooooooo-weeeee, get a load of this beaut! Crikey!"
The kangaroo's head snapped around to look at him, and then without hesitation it charged for him. Neal watched as Crackle was bowled over and then as the boy screamed, the screen went black simply showing the words 'Graham: 0 Australia: 4'.
Neal began laughing, and he clicked on another video.
This video started with the same type of introduction, and then Crackle was crawling through the woods chasing after snakes and then demonstrating how to properly hold them. As he held one up by the tail, it turned and sunk its fangs into his face and the video once again went black. 'Graham: 0 Australia: 13'.
Neal couldn't help it and laughed hysterically, unable to believe the treasure trove he had uncovered. Dash glanced over at him, and made a sour face, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he approached.
"What are you watching?" he demanded. "That doesn't look look like electrical videos."
Neal reached out and seized Dash by the wrist and pulled him down beside him. "Come see! Come See!" Neal gasped out between laughs. "Oh my god, you have to see this!"
Dash gave him an annoyed look, but still edged over so he could see the screen as Neal pulled out the headphones, turning up the volume. He then clicked on another video. As Crackle walked into frame, Dash's eyes widened.
"G'day mates! This is GrahamTheLadyHunter69! I'm sorry for not uploading for a while but I had to get a porcupine quill removed from my scrotum."
"Is that..." Dash asked hesitantly.
"Sure is!" Neal exclaimed happily. "It sure is! Little baby Crackle from 2014."
"After that unfortunate situation with the porcupine, I thought maybe I would keep things a little safer for today's video." Crackle said. "Now we have a very special video for today, because we will be learning about the most beautiful creature in Australia. These gorgeous creatures can be found all throughout Australia and are at their finest and most colourful along the coasts. Follow me as I cautiously enter their territory."
The camera panned to several girls laying on the beach in bikinis.
"I present the Australian Lady!" Crackle announced in a loud voice, causing a lot of heads to turn in his direction.
One of the girls wearing a bikini looked over the tops of her sunglasses and scowled at him. "Are you recording us?!" she demanded.
"Crikey, they're beautiful!" Crackle commented. "Observe how these ladies flock to the beach and darken the pigment in their skin in the hopes to attract a mate! They clamber for the best resting spot and then display themselves to be admired by all!"
"Ashley, he's recording us!" one of the girls said angrily.
"Watch as I cautiously approach to get a better look at these gorgeous Australian Ladies."
"He's kind of a douchebag." Dash commented, unable to stop a snort of laughter.
They watched as Crackle very slowly began crawling across the beach towards the three girls. They stared at him angrily, and the moment he came within ten feet, one flung a handful of sand directly into his face. Crackle let out a shriek and clutched at his face, falling to the ground and rolling in agony as he tried desperately to wipe the sand out of his eyes. The screen went black with Crackle's screams still in the background. 'Graham: 0 Australia: 26'
Neal was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, and Dash held a hand over his mouth trying and failing to hold back his laughter.
"Play another one." Paper Star ordered from behind them and they both nearly had a heart attack. They glanced over their shoulders and saw Paper Star was leaning over behind them, and neither had any idea how long she had been there.
"Uh sure." Neal said, turning back to the screen.
He clicked on another one.
Thirty-five minutes later when Crackle returned to the motel, he was met with the sight of his entire team gathered around Neal in a circle, and they were all laughing as hard as they could. Setting the bags of takeout aside, he gave them a curious look, frowning at Neal. It was really obvious that Neal wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing, but he was hesitant to get mad. It was honestly nice seeing his team getting along for once, and he wondered if things were finally starting to improve.
"What are you doing?" Crackle asked, making sure to keep his tone friendly.
They obviously hadn't heard him come in because everyone turned to look at him in surprise. They stared at him for a moment in complete silence, and then to Crackle's shock they all burst out laughing.
Crackle frowned. "What?" he demanded in confusion.
This only made them laugh even harder.
"What?" he demanded again.
No one could answer him they were laughing so hard, and so he approached the bed to see what they were looking at. He saw Neal had a video open on the tablet, but before he could see it, Neal exited the window.
"Just a really funny series of videos, love." Neal said in-between snickers. "You could say they're really 'electrifying '. Their humour really has a ' Crackle' in it, if you know what I mean."
Crackle narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And what were these videos about?"
This caused another series of laughs and Crackle felt like they were somehow making fun of him.
Finally, it was Neal who answered. He put on a thick Australian accent and smirked at him as he replied. "It was about a very silly 17 year old Australian graham-ophone that kept making an arse of itself."
Dash elbowed him sharply.
"Ow." Neal complained, rubbing his side.
Crackle let out a deep sigh, deciding it wasn't worth it. "I picked up Chinese food. They're all the same combos, and so just grab one."
The laughter began to die down, but Crackle kept catching his team sneaking grins at him, and although a bit annoyed, there was nothing he could do about it. Taking a seat beside Neal so he could eat, he knew he would make a point to check the tablet's search history later.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
TBC