The Broken Silence

by MangoKat

A massive misunderstanding causes several operatives to defect from V.I.L.E. Carmen must now protect them before they're hunted down and killed. As Team Red fight against V.I.L.E, they begin uncovering a disturbing web of mysteries involving kidnap and murder. Everything always seems to point back to a certain mime. Who is Mime Bomb, and why does everyone seem to want him dead?

31. Captive

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The Broken Silence

Chapter 31

Captive

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Team Red pulled over when they saw Team Crackle's van had stopped by the side of the road. To their surprise, they saw Crackle exit the van, and then run to a garbage can to vomit. They watched him as he spent a few minutes clutching the garbage can, and when he finally straightened up, he was looking a bit pale. Crackle spoke with Theodore for a few moments, and then the enormous man got back into the van and it drove off, leaving Crackle behind. Crackle was still holding his stomach and looking a bit ill, and Carmen frowned worriedly.

"He's sick," she said.

"I guess not much has changed since training," Tigress observed in amusement.

Carmen gave her a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

Tigress rolled her eyes. "Don't you remember how Crackle always used to get motion sickness every time we had to drive anywhere? The first time we were driven in one of Dr. Bellum's speed cruisers, he puked right into Antonio's lap."

Carmen had forgotten about that. "Oh yeah!" she said in realization. "He also threw up on Coach Brunt in first term during endurance training. She never quite forgave him for that."

Tigress frowned and brushed her hair out of her face. "...I do miss that idiot," she admitted, "As irritating as he was, he was still part of our little group."

Carmen nodded her agreement. "Gray was always so happy, and always ready to have fun and joke around."

"He was very immature," Shadowsan commented, "He was always getting hurt in very foolish ways during training."

Tigress shot Carmen a grin who immediately knew what the other girl was thinking of.

"The bungee incident," they both said at the same time.

They started laughing hard, and everyone else in the car gave them a puzzled look. Shadowsan let out an exasperated sigh, not even wanting to ask.

Tigress grinned widely. "When we carried him to the infirmary, I thought Dr. Vess was going to tear Gray's head right off for being so stupid."

Carmen returned the grin. "Good old Dr. Vess. He never hesitated to tell you exactly how stupid you were being."

"How many stitches did Gray have to get again?"

Carmen shook her head in amusement. "Twelve," she answered, "He was walking funny for two weeks."

Tigress snorted. "And yet he still claimed he meant to do that."

Carmen smiled fondly at the memory, and she watched as Crackle entered a Chinese Grocery. "Okay, I'm going to follow Gray, you guys follow after the van."

"I'll go with you," Shadowsan said, getting out of the car.

As the others drove off after the van before they lost sight of it, Carmen and Shadowsan hid behind a telephone pole as Crackle left the grocers. He took a sip of tea, pulled a face and then tossed it out, clearly not liking it.

Carmen and Shadowsan observed the odd interactions Crackle had with people on the street, and they followed his every move. They watched the phone call Crackle made, certain the villain was planning something. They were keeping their distance so they wouldn't be seen, and although they couldn't hear what was being said, they could tell by his body language that he was upset about something. When Crackle fell to his knees clutching his head, Carmen immediately started towards him to help, but Shadowsan caught her by the wrist.

"Wait." he ordered.

"Shadowsan, something's wrong!" Carmen said, staring at Crackle in worry.

"Just wait." he said, eyes on the villain.

Crackle suddenly straightened back up and then walked off like nothing had happened. Carmen frowned in concern, feeling in her gut that something was seriously wrong with Crackle.

He seemed to be just wandering the streets at random, and they were beginning to suspect he knew they were following him. After hours of him pretty much going around the uptown area in a giant circle, they finally saw Double Trouble approach. Crackle spoke with them for a moment and then began following them down the street. Crackle suddenly ducked down into an alley, and they watched closely, having a feeling he was planning something.

To their complete shock, they watched as Crackle struggled to hold onto a mangy street cat as it screamed and attacked him. Crackle rolled on the ground with a shriek but kept a hold of the cat until it finally calmed down.

Seeing Crackle like this was actually a bit of a relief, since this was exactly something that would have happened to the old Crackle. At least she knew her friend was still in there somewhere.

"That cat must be carrying something," Shadowsan stated thoughtfully.

"Like what?" Carmen asked, squinting at the cat suspiciously.

"Team Crackle clearly didn't want us to find it since they went to so much trouble to lose us on the streets, and so it must be a weapon of some sort."

"Inside a cat?!" Carmen asked in horror.

"It's not unheard of," Shadowsan replied. "But the most common way would be to attach something to its collar."

Carmen frowned at Crackle, wondering if he'd ever actually do something like that. Crackle had always loved animals, and she could never picture him willingly hurting one. Crackle was different however, and she wasn't quite sure what to think now. Raising a hand to her face where he'd slapped her, she frowned, and then watched as Crackle continued walking away with Double Trouble.

They followed them at a distance and she was surprised to see they headed for a dingy motel. They watched them enter one of the rooms, and Carmen glanced around and saw the rest of Team Red watching from nearby. Approaching the car, she and Shadowsan got in and she was met with a scowl from Tigress.

"What took you so long?" she complained. "You were gone for hours!"

"Crackle was trying to lose us," Carmen responded, "We had to follow him all over the city! What did you guys find out?"

"They've been staying in this motel," Chase confirmed, "I spoke with the motel manager, and he confirmed they've been here since the end of June."

Julia nodded her agreement. "While Chase spoke with the manager, I looked at the computer records and it looks like they've been paying in cash daily. The names attached to the room are all fake of course."

"We know where they are now, and so now we have to come up with a plan of attack," Carmen stated, "We need to plan carefully so that no one gets hurt."

"They're not going to come quietly," Tigress pointed out.

"If we corner them, we should be able to overpower them," Carmen insisted.

Tigress crossed her arms. "And then what? Throw them in the basement with Neal? Gonna get a bit crowded down there."

"We just need to make them listen to us," Carmen replied. "They're people, and they're capable of rational thought. We'll explain everything to them, and then we'll get Gray help. Once he remembers everything, he'll be able to help convince the others."

Tigress snorted. "You're living in a fairytale," she responded, "They're never going to join us."

Carmen frowned. "You guys joined us," she pointed out.

Tigress rolled her eyes. "Not really by choice," she responded, "It was either join you losers or face V.I.L.E's wrath."

"You would never return to V.I.L.E, would you?" Chase asked in alarm.

Tigress' expression became troubled for just a moment and she glanced towards the motel with a frown. "No," she answered in a subdued tone, "I could never go back...not now. Life is...better here."

Ivy gave her a nudge and a smile. "Aw, I always knew you loved us."

Tigress immediately scowled at her and looked away. "You're all still losers though."

"Let's get back to base so we can begin planning," Carmen suggested.

"Sure thing, Carm," Ivy said turning on the ignition.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I think we need to contact V.I.L.E…" Theodore said hesitantly.

"No shit." Roosevelt snapped at his brother.

Everyone was staring at Crackle who still hadn't regained consciousness. Theodore had moved him onto one of the beds, and every few minutes, Crackle would go into another series of convulsions.

"Grab me my com and I'll contact Dr. Bellum." Dash ordered. "It's in my jacket pocket."

"I think we should wait," Paper Star suggested, watching Crackle with a thoughtful frown.

"What? Why?" Dash demanded, wincing as he shifted to look at her.

"What if V.I.L.E sees this as a failure?" she commented. "We haven't completed our mission, and we've already had to contact them about you . This makes us look incredibly incompetent. How many times will they allow us to screw up before they decide to just dispose of us?"

Dash stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, and then let out a dismissive scoff.

"You don't believe me?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.

"V.I.L.E's not going to punish us for something that's out of our control," he challenged, "It's not my fault I got sick, and this isn't Graham's fault."

Paper Star crossed her arms. "What world are you living in, Dash?" she challenged, "V.I.L.E wouldn't hesitate to get rid of us the second our usefulness is compromised. We only hold value if they think we can still be used. If they deem us failures, they have no reason to keep us around."

Dash furrowed his brow. "No, they would just reassign us," he responded, "Even if the team was dissolved, they would still be able to use us. I would likely go back to being a courier."

Paper Star shook her head. She wanted her teammates dead, but only under her own terms. If they came across as bumbling idiots, she would chance her own safety and she'd never allow that. If her memories were erased and she was sent back to Tokyo, she'd be killed the second she got off the plane. For right now, she needed to make sure V.I.L.E thought they were doing a good job. V.I.L.E didn't know they'd lost Neal, and as long as the rest of them somehow killed Carmen, they probably wouldn't care about that.

"Graham needs medical treatment and I'm calling them," Dash said firmly, wincing as the cat dug its claws into his back. "And could someone get this damn thing off my back?"

Roosevelt approached and reached for the cat who immediately poofed up and snarled at him, swiping at the huge man with its claws.

"Ow, ow, nevermind!" Dash cried out, "Back away from the deformed cat!"

Roosevelt backed away and the cat immediately settled down again, glaring around the room making a low growling noise.

"Is anyone going to explain why there's a cat in here?" Dash demanded.

"It's part of Crackle's plan," Roosevelt replied.

Dash glanced over his shoulder at the ugly one-eyed cat and frowned. "Wait...really? Did he say that?"

The twins exchanged a look.

"Well...not exactly, but he seemed to think the cat was important when he found it," Theodore replied.

Dash looked the cat up and down. "What use could he possibly have for this thing?"

The twins shrugged.

"Someone hand me my com," Dash ordered, going back to ignoring the cat.

"No." Paper Star said, her tone going icy. "You're not contacting the faculty!"

Dash eyed her warily. "Graham needs help."

"We'll take him to the hospital under a fake name, but we are not telling V.I.L.E something is wrong." she replied. "Touch that com and I'll cut your arm off."

Dash narrowed his eyes at her, unsure whether the threat was serious or not. He wasn't dumb enough to challenge her however, and so he gave a nod.

Double Trouble were looking back and forth between Dash and Paper Star, clearly trying to figure out who was right in this circumstance.

"I...I think a hospital would be Crackle's best bet," Theodore stated, "He needs help right now and we can't wait for Dr. Vess to come all the way back."

Roosevelt nodded along with his brother. "Hospital," he agreed.

Dash nodded reluctantly. "Alright, we'll do things your way. Pass me my com so you can keep me updated while you're gone."

Roosevelt tossed him his com which Dash awkwardly caught, and he watched as Theodore picked up Crackle gently.

"Are all of you going?" Dash asked, wishing he could get up.

When everyone nodded, he once again frowned at the cat.

"If this...thing is really necessary, you should probably pick up a litterbox or something so it doesn't pee on the beds."

"Oh, good idea," Roosevelt said with a nod, "I'll grab some kibble too."

Dash pulled a face. "Maybe if it gets hungry enough it will go away."

"We're not going to starve Steve," Theodore said firmly.

Dash winced. "I can't believe you guys named this thing."

"Crackle named it," Roosevelt replied, "We're keeping the cat until we find out what we're supposed to do with it."

Dash sighed and said nothing more, and so they began heading for the door with Crackle.

"We'll call you as soon as we get to the hospital," Theodore assured him, "Call us if you need anything."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Dash replied, "Just make sure you don't let Graham out of your sight. I wouldn't put it past the Crimson Crusader to track you guys down."

Paper Star twirled a throwing star in her hand with a smirk. "I hope she does find us," she stated.

Dash rested his chin on his arm and watched as his teammates left. The second they were gone, the cat finally left his back and walked up the edge of the bed, taking a seat beside Dash's pillow.

"Oh, gross, get away!" Dash protested, trying to shoo it away.

He didn't want to actually touch it however, and so the cat just ignored him and settled itself down comfortably.

"Ugh," Dash complained, "You smell like garbage."

Dash glared at the cat, thinking it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. Seemingly content and unafraid, the cat began grooming its paws and Dash simply watched it in disgust.

"It's going to take a lot more than that, you disgusting fleabag," he told it.

The cat glanced at him with its one good eye and was clearly unconcerned with Dash's presence.

"Did someone throw you in a woodchipper?" Dash mused, looking the hideous cat up and down. "You barely even look like a cat."

Bored and having nothing else to do, Dash simply stared at the cat as it groomed itself, wondering if the cat really did have some sort of purpose. What could Crackle possibly have planned for it? Was he going to use it as a distraction in some kind of robbery? Maybe he was going to use it to test the motion sensors inside a building?

After a few minutes, Dash very cautiously reached out a single finger towards the cat. Steve stopped grooming and watched him warily, but didn't hiss or seem in any way aggressive. Dash then hesitantly scratched the cat under the chin, and it immediately released a rough and odd sound that caused Dash to raise a brow in question.

"Is that how you purr?" he demanded, "Even your purr is gross."

Dash continued scratching the cat's chin for a moment, mildly amused by the noises coming out of it. He then sneezed, and let out a sigh as he glared at the cat.

"I think I'm allergic to you, you mangy dirtball."

Steve simply closed its eye contentedly, and Dash turned his gaze to his com. He felt like Paper Star was wrong, and they were likely to get into huge trouble if they tried to hide such an important thing from the faculty. He had witnessed a lot of operatives get reemed over the coals by Countess Cleo, and the ones who tried to hide their misdeeds were always punished the worst.

Debating on what he should do, he finally turned his com on and then dialed Dr. Bellum. The call rang and rang and went unanswered. Frowning, he then tried the main faculty number, knowing it would cause all faculty phones to ring.

This time it only rang twice before the call was answered. Roundabout's face appeared on the screen, and Dash hesitated, not really having any experiences with the man. Roundabout stared at the pretty operative, who was clearly laying in bed, and gave him a puzzled frown. It took him a second, but then he recognized who Dash was, and he sat straight up in his seat.

"Dash Haber," he greeted.

"Hello, Instructor Roundabout," Dash responded.

"I heard about your appendicitis," Roundabout commented, "I trust you've begun to recover?"

Dash gave him a nod. "Yes, I'm doing a lot better."

Roundabout gave him a questioning look. "What do you need, Mr. Haber?" he asked, "I was right in the middle of something important."

"I think whatever Dr. Bellum did to Crackle has seriously damaged his mind," Dash replied, deciding to just get right to the point.

Roundabout simply stared at him in confusion. "What did Dr. Bellum do to Crackle?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

"I-I'm not sure," Dash admitted with a troubled look, "His mind has been erased at least twice, and this time all of his memories were gone. His personality has been altered and he has been acting irrationally lately."

Dash turned the com so Roundabout could see Steve.

"He dragged this cat to our motel room, and then had a violent seizure. The rest of my team took him to the hospital under a fake name."

Roundabout had heard nothing of any sort of mind experiments on operatives, and this troubled him a lot. There was supposed to be paperwork on this sort of thing, but clearly Dr. Bellum had been trying to hide this.

"Who have you reported this to?" Roundabout demanded.

"I tried to call Dr. Bellum, but she didn't pick up. You're the only one who knows right now."

"Good. Let's keep it that way," Roundabout said, "I will cover for you, just this once, so the other faculty don't find out your team broke protocol by taking Crackle to the hospital. Mention this to no one."

Dash furrowed his brow but gave a nod all the same.

"Tell me, what is your team's mission, Dash Haber?"

Dash was confused, knowing very well Roundabout knew their mission. "Kill Carmen Sandiego and her team," he replied.

"Have any of the faculty given you additional orders?"

Dash shook his head with a frown. "No."

"Have any of your teammates done anything that seemed unusual or suspicious?"

Again Dash shook his head, wondering why Roundabout was asking him this. Did he suspect one or more of Team Crackle were defecting?

Roundabout frowned at him for a moment. "I'm going to handle Crackle personally," he informed Dash, "Contact me with any updates on his condition."

"Yes, Sir," Dash answered respectfully.

As soon as Roundabout disconnected the call, he felt incredibly troubled. He had seen no documentation about any sort of mind experiments involving Crackle. He recalled seeing the report of the first time he had been given a mind erase, but apparently there had been additional erases done.

Roundabout slowly got up from his desk, grabbing his cane as he did so. He began pacing in front of the large office window, trying to figure this out. Were Maelstrom and Bellum working together on some sort of secret project? He'd never heard of V.I.L.E taking all of an operatives memories before and knew this was unusually cruel, even for them. If an operative lost everything, they wouldn't even be the same person anymore.

Roundabout stared out the window with a deep frown as he considered this. Someone would have had to re-train Crackle from scratch and this would have taken a lot of time and money to do so. There had to be some sort of papertrail involving this…

Glancing down at his com, Roundabout pulled up Crackle's operative file and then scrolled through it, looking for anything that didn't make sense. To his surprise, all mentions of the first mind erase were gone from the file as if it had never happened. As he carefully looked through the information, he saw it had been altered to appear as though Crackle had been with V.I.L.E during the entire time he had spent a year in Sydney. There were fake mission reports and everything.

Why were they going to such extremes to hide this? Normally Bellum loved bragging about her advancements in mind alterations, but something was different about Crackle. There was something about Crackle that Bellum and Maelstrom didn't want discovered. What could it be?

Staring down at the screen of his com, Roundabout bit his index finger as he thought about this.

Maelstrom was hiding large expenses through Dr. Vesalius, and so was the doctor involved with this somehow, or was he just a bystander whatever scheme the was? The faculty were never supposed to hide things from each other, and this had Roundabout incredibly concerned. What were they planning? Why did they feel they had to hide it from him?

Knowing he would have to be incredibly careful while investigating this, he decided he would take a closer look into the enormous expenses taking place in Dr. Vesalius' lab.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Team Red arrived back at their base, Ivy was not impressed when she found out Neal and El Topo had slept the entire time they were gone. She had gone down to the basement and thoroughly scolded the both of them, and El Topo was instantly ashamed. He apologized profusely for falling asleep on the job, but Neal simply laughed at her attempts at making him feel guilty. It was clear he wasn't bothered by her anger in the least, and when Ivy was finally through venting, she had shoved a Chinese take-out box into his hands and then stormed away.

Neal watched her go in amusement and El Topo gave him a frown.

"You're not going to keep everyone awake all night again, are you?" he asked worriedly.

Neal didn't answer, but his smirk was telling enough.

" Dios mío ," El Topo sighed to himself, "Neal, you are going to get yourself in trouble."

"Then tell them to let me go," Neal responded, opening the take-out box. "Oh, nice, a combo."

"Please don't do this," El Topo begged, "Don't keep pushing everyone's patience like this. You know they're not going to let you go."

Neal took a bite of an eggroll and gave him a look that clearly said he thought differently.

"If they decide to gag you or something, don't say I didn't try to warn you," El Topo said with a weary sigh, getting to his feet. "Do you need any more ice for your ankle?"

Neal glanced down at his foot, gave it an experimental bend and then immediately winced. "Yeah, I think that would help," he admitted, "I don't suppose any of Team Red wears contacts, do they?"

El Topo cocked his head at the odd question. "No, not that I know of. Why?"

Neal rubbed at his eyes which were feeling dry and irritated. "I've been wearing these contacts for like three days now and I think I should probably take them out..."

El Topo had no idea that Neal wore contacts and he glanced at the other man's eyes, seeing that they were looking a bit red.

"I'll ask the others, but I don't think we have anything that could help you," he responded.

Neal let out a deep sigh, knowing he'd probably have to dispose of them, leaving him with poor eyesight. Although his vision was pretty bad, he could still function pretty well without them, and knew he could still escape if the occasion arose.

"It's fine, Antonio, I'll just throw them out. I have several packages of them back with my team."

El Topo nodded, still looking at Neal's eyes worriedly. He didn't know anything about contacts, but he hoped the redness wasn't the sign of an infection or something. He wasn't going to allow another situation like Dash's to happen, and so he was going to inform the others and then keep an eye on him to make sure he was alright.

"I'll be right back with your icepack," he said, heading for the stairs. "Do you want a drink to go with your food?"

"Probably safe to say you kids don't have beer, right?"

El Topo smiled. "How about a Pepsi?"

Neal laughed. "Yeah, sounds great, Antonio."

El Topo jogged up the basement stairs, and when he entered the living room, he was met with the sight of the rest of the team watching tv while eating. Le Chèvre had saved a spot for him on the couch and El Topo saw his own food waiting for him.

"We're going to watch a movie," Tigress called over to him, "Some stupid action movie or something."

Ivy scoffed at her. "Bite yer tongue!" she scolded. "Robocop is a classic!"

Tigress rolled her eyes and said nothing more.

"Sleep well, mon ami?" Le Chèvre teased with a smile.

El Topo's face reddened. " Si …"

Le Chèvre laughed. "It's fine, Antonio," he assured him, "We are all tired after last night."

El Topo winced. "...I think Neal is going to do it again tonight…"

Instantly everyone turned to stare at him.

"What?!" Tigress snarled angrily, "Are you kidding me?!"

El Topo shook his head. "He thinks he's going to wear you down until he's released."

Carmen let out a deep sigh. "We're not going to release him just because he's annoying."

"If he keeps me awake tonight, I'm going to rip out his tongue," Tigress vowed.

"Guys?" Player's voice cut in.

"Hey, Player," Carmen greeted, "What's up?"

"Um...you may have to delay your movie. I've been busy doing research for the last several hours and there's something you guys need to know…"

Shadowsan turned the television off. "What is it?" he demanded.

"You know how Zack and Mime Bomb contacted us earlier?"

Carmen nodded. "Yes, is everything alright?"

"No," Player responded, "No, it's not."

Ivy dropped her fork and was instantly to her feet. "What happened?! Is Zack Okay? Did anybody get hurt? What happened? I knew I never should have let him go!"

"They're fine, Ivy. No one got hurt," Player quickly assured her, "They're on a plane headed home now. They have to make a stop in New York because of the pilot, but then they're headed to San Diego."

"What happened?" Ivy demanded.

"Well…" Player began, trying to think of where to start. "Mime Bomb finally met with his sister...but then something happened."

Carmen furrowed her brow in concern as Player continued.

"Several men showed up in a van and they tried to take Mime Bomb. They knew exactly who he was and somehow knew he was back in Wales. They shot at them with tranquilizer darts, but luckily Zack and Mime Bomb were able to get away."

Ivy looked like she was going to have a heart attack. "Oh my god! I have to call Zack!"

"They're in the air, Ivy, you won't be able to reach them. I promise they're fine."

"V.I.L.E." Carmen said angrily. "They just can't leave him alone!"

"Er...no, not V.I.L.E…for once." Player said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" Carmen asked in alarm, "Who else is after him?"

"Well, remember when we were investigating Mime Bomb's past, someone was trying to erase all traces of him?"

"The people who kidnapped him?"

Player once again hesitated. "Yes, and there's something else I found out…"

"Well, what is it, squirt?" Tigress said impatiently.

"I found out Mime Bomb's real name…um, I don't really know what to make of it though..."

"Oh!" Carmen said in surprise, "That's good you found out, why are you acting so strange about it?"

"...His name is Volkov… Yuri Volkov."

To everyone's shock, Chase was instantly to his feet, his expression horrified like he'd just seen a ghost. "Volkov?!" he repeated, "The mime's name is VOLKOV?!"

"You know who they are?!" Player exclaimed in surprise.

Chase was completely pale, and he backed up a step and shook his head. "Are you sure?" he demanded, "Are you sure his name is VOLKOV?"

"Yes, Zack and Mime Bomb confirmed it with me."

Chase clenched his hands into fists. "How old is Mime Bomb?" he demanded.

"Twenty-two. I think," Player answered, "Why?"

Chase clenched his jaw tightly. "...probably not," he said to himself. "...but still possible."

Julia reached out and laid a gentle hand on Chase's arm. "Chase?" she questioned.

"Where was Mime Bomb three years ago in October?" he demanded. "October 13th."

"He was in V.I.L.E academy three years ago," Carmen replied, "He was in my class."

Chase released a breath of relief. "It wasn't him."

"Chase, what's going on?" Julia asked, "Tell us what's wrong."

"I know of Volkov…" he admitted, sinking down into his chair with a defeated air. "What do you know, Player? I can help fill in any gaps in what you found out."

"Do you remember how I mentioned the word Volkov kept coming up in my research, Red?"

Carmen honestly didn't remember that, but nodded all the same.

"Every time I researched Mime Bomb or the Finnegans, Volkov kept coming up over and over again. Everywhere I looked, that same word kept appearing. I tried searching it, but the only Volkov I could find was a fancy lab in Russia that bred designer dogs for rich people that went out of business like ten years ago."

"Do you know who Volkov are now? Did they change their name?" Le Chèvre demanded. "What did Mime Bomb tell you?"

"They were really upset when they were talking to me and still drugged from the darts and so they didn't talk long. Mime Bomb promised he's going to explain everything once they're home."

"Drugged?!" Ivy screeched.

"They both got hit with a tranquilizer dart as they got on the plane. They just need to sleep it off and they'll be fine," Player assured her. "The pilot as keeping a close eye on them."

Ivy clutched her head. "Ugh, Zack's going to be the death of me… The one time I let him out of my sight, this happens!"

Carmen turned her gaze to Chase. "What can you tell us?" she asked, "How do you know the name Volkov?"

She watched as a dozen emotions crossed Chase's face before he finally took a deep breath. "I was once married…" he began hesitantly.

Julia instantly reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Carmen had already looked into Chase and knew about his marriage, but she didn't say anything.

"My wife's name was Yu Yan, and she was my partner at Interpol," he explained, "We met back in 2005, and we worked together for years before dating. We married in 2009, and we had a one year old daughter named Diana at the time of the...incident."

Everyone stared at him in surprise, but no one interrupted.

"Yu Yan and I were a perfect team, and we were always assigned the most difficult missions. We began investigating a strange series of crimes within Europe, and we soon realized there was some sort of organized crime ring. Everything was connected, and could be traced to one source. There were thefts, murders, smuggling, drugs, and everything all seemed to connect. It was a giant spider web of crime with this one organization in the middle."

We of course informed Interpol of our suspicions, and we were ordered to continue our investigations in secret. They wanted us to gather evidence so we could take them down in one fell swoop. We didn't realize there was a leak within Interpol, and it didn't take the criminals long to find us. They targeted us since we were the lead investigators. I left to go to the gym one morning and when I returned, my wife had been viciously slaughtered."

"And...and your daughter?" El Topo asked cautiously.

Chase's expression twisted into a pained look. "They took her. I received a phone call from someone who sounded like just a teenager. The boy spoke in English and told me that I was to cease all investigations into Volkov or he would kill Diana. He swore that if I so much as google-searched Volkov, he'd mail me pieces of her. The boy assured me that as long as I stopped investigating, she would be adopted into a loving family somewhere outside the country. She would be safe and she would be happy.

I had already requested the surveillance footage for all the streets surrounding my house and the tapes arrived the next morning. When I watched the one from my street, I could just make out the sight of a teenage boy kick down our front door. The footage was too blurry to make out his face. He was inside for thirty-seven minutes and when he came out, he was holding my daughter.

All evidence disappeared from Interpol, and it was like there had never been an investigation at all"

"Oh my god...Chase!" Julia gasped, throwing her arms around him in a hug. "I had no idea! They never told me the details of any of this…"

Chase stared down at the floor. "They seemed to think we knew more than we did, because up until that phone call, I had never heard the name Volkov before. I now knew the name of the criminal organization we had been investigating."

"Is your daughter safe?" El Topo asked, fearing the worst.

Chase was silent for a long moment. "No."

"They killed her?"

"I suspect they did because I never received any sort of proof she was alive. If she is alive, then she's definitely not safe. There's no way such evil people would place a child with a good family."

Carmen exchanged a look with Shadowsan. "Have you heard of Volkov before?"

Shadowsan grew thoughtful. "There was a business partner of V.I.L.E's by the name of Volkov a long time ago, but I never had any dealings with them. I did not normally deal with that sort of thing. I thought they had dissolved as an organization, but perhaps I was wrong…"

"How were they partnered with V.I.L.E?" Carmen asked. "What did Volkov do?"

Shadowsan shook his head. "I apologize, but I am not certain. All I know is that there was a massive disagreement about ten years ago between V.I.L.E and Volkov. V.I.L.E sent nearly five hundred operatives to deal with the situation and they were all killed. It was a huge blow for V.I.L.E, and there are very few operatives left between the ages of 28-35. To my knowledge, Volkov was completely wiped out…"

Shadowsan then frowned as he thought of something. "Actually...about four or five years ago a group of operatives were sent to Russia to deal with a problem. I think it was something about another organization encroaching on our territory. We sent up the graduating class of 2013 and 2014 with a few negotiators. All except one man was killed."

"Geez…" Ivy commented, "Lucky guy."

"Or unlucky…" Le Chèvre commented, "He would have seen all of his classmates and friends die. I don't think I could have handled that."

"Dash Haber never had friends at the academy," Shadowsan commented, "He never completed his training, and has always been a loner."

"Dash was the survivor?!" Carmen cried out in horror.

Shadowsan nodded. "It surprised us too, to be honest. Dash Haber may not look like it, but he's a survivor. As with most V.I.L.E students, he came from a bad home, and this shapes how one reacts to danger. I have a feeling that he's had to fight for survival his whole life, and he's at his most dangerous when cornered."

"So...if Mime Bomb's last name is Volkov…" Julia said a bit hesitantly.

"His father is most likely involved in all of this," Chase finished for her, his expression darkening. "If we discover the mime is in any way involved in this, I can't promise how I'll react."

"Mime Bomb would never!" Ivy cried out, offended on his behalf. "He's just a sweet dorky little guy. He'd never hurt anyone!"

"It seems unlikely," Shadowsan agreed, "But he does know more than he's been letting on. He needs to explain everything to us once and for all."

Chase was clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles were white. "If Volkov still exists, we need to take them down."

Everyone exchanged a look, and Chase suddenly turned away from them.

"With or without you, I will take them down. I'm not going to allow them to destroy any more families. My daughter is gone, my wife is gone, and all I want to see is those responsible pay."

"We're a team Chase," Carmen said firmly, "We will always stand with you. First, we need to find out exactly who Volkov are, and what they're responsible for, and then we can begin making a plan. Once Mime Bomb and Zack arrive, we'll finally be able to get some answers."

"Their plane is due to arrive in fifteen hours," Player informed them.

Carmen glanced around at her team, and had a feeling things were going to get a lot more difficult. Chase left the room without a word, and she watched him go sadly, knowing this was going to be hard for him.

"Oy, Antonio, did you forget about me?!" came a bellow from the basement.

"Oh, Neal!" El Topo said in realization, "I was getting him an icepack and a drink and completely forgot!"

"That greasy jerk had better not keep me awake tonight," Tigress muttered.

"I'll be right back," El Topo said to the others as he hurried from the room.

Carmen glanced over at Shadowsan. "I think we need to speak with Dash Haber."

He gave her a nod. "I agree."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Otterman looked up from his notebook and rubbed at his head, feeling a headache coming on. They only had enough money to stay at the motel for a little over a week, and that left no money for food. If they stayed six days in the motel, they could buy cheap food like bread, peanut butter and ramen, and they would have just enough left over for two city transit passes. Renting a car was completely out of the question.

Moose Boy was hovering over his shoulder, looking down at the paper with a worried look on his face. [[Is it bad?]] he asked.

Otterman sighed. [[Yes,]] he replied, not bothering to elaborate.

[[What can we do?]] Moose Boy asked, [[Finish the mission quickly?]]

Otterman tapped the pen on his knee, simply staring at the numbers in front of him. [[There's no way to make this work,]] he stated, [[We need more money.]]

Moose Boy scratched at his head. [[Are we going to steal?]]

Otterman frowned. [[We can't do anything that will jeopardize our mission. If we get caught stealing, or if a security camera sees us, Roundabout will likely have our minds erased.]]

Moose Boy furrowed his brow, thinking hard. [[Then what can we do?]]

Otterman glanced up at him. [[We have to steal from someone who won't report it.]]

[[A dead person? Are we going to dig up dead people?]]

Otterman sighed. [[No, Henrik, we're not going to become graverobbers. We'll have to steal from other criminals.]]

[[That...sounds dangerous,]] Moose Boy commented.

[[It's extremely dangerous to steal from other criminals,]] Otterman confirmed, [[This will take a lot of planning if we don't want to end up shot. We'll have to start off small first...]]

Moose Boy's gaze went to Otterman's back worriedly. [[You can barely walk, how are we going to do a heist?]]

Otterman popped one of the pain pills into his mouth. [[Once this starts to work, I was thinking we should start with a few criminals a little closer to home…]]

[[We're going back to Sweden?!]]

Otterman rolled his eyes. [[No, genius, we're going to steal from Team Crackle!]]

Moose Boy's eyes widened. [[Oh!]] he exclaimed, [[Can...can we do that?!]]

[[Well… they're at least a little less likely to kill us if they catch us,]] Otterman commented, [[We can just claim it was a prank or something.]]

Moose Boy gave a nod and took a seat next to him on the bed. [[How are we going to do it?]]

Otterman honestly had no idea. [[How about if we start by watching them?]] he suggested, [[You go keep an eye on them, and don't let them see you.]]

[[I can do that!]] Moose Boy assured him, [[I'll be sneaky like a...like a...moose.]]

Otterman stared at him and then very slowly and carefully got to his feet. [[Nevermind, I think I'll do this myself…]]

Otterman was still stiff from the long plane journey, but he could at least walk a little better than he could the day before. As he hobbled his way to the door, Moose Boy hovered over him worriedly.

[[Are you sure you'll be alright? Do you need help?]]

[[I'm fine, Henrik, I'd tell you if I needed help.]]

Moose Boy frowned. [[No, you wouldn't,]] he responded, [[You're too stubborn to ever ask for help.]]

Otterman glared at him, but couldn't deny it. He opened the door and then peered out cautiously. The parking lot was empty and so he slowly made his way outside with Moose Boy right on his heels. Team Crackle were staying in the room at the end of the building and so they approached their room, keeping an eye out for any operatives.

Otterman peeked in one of the windows, but couldn't see anything because of the curtains. Supporting his weight by placing a hand on the wall, he made his way to the other windows and peered in. Although the curtains were drawn, there was a tiny crack allowing him to see into the room. The room appeared to be empty as far as he could tell, but his eyesight wasn't exactly reliable.

[[Henrik, is the room empty?]] he whispered.

Moose Boy leaned over him and peeked into the window. " Nej ," he replied, [[Someone is asleep in bed.]]

[[Is there just one person inside?]] he demanded.

Moose Boy nodded.

Otterman knew Dash Haber was recovering from an operation, and it was likely him that was in bed. Knowing Dash was probably on a whole assortment of medications, he was willing to bet that he would be extremely difficult to wake up. He gave another glance around the parking lot, knowing this would probably be his only opportunity before the rest of the team returned.

[[You be lookout,]] Otterman ordered, [[Hide around the side of the building out of sight. I'm going in to see what I can get]]

[[With someone in there?!]]

[[I'll be very quiet,]] Otterman assured him, [[He probably won't even wake up.]]

Moose Boy gave him an uncertain look. [[If you need me to come, just call for me…]]

[[Just don't be seen!]] Otterman warned him, [[And be quiet. Don't come into the room unless I call for you.]]

[[Yes, Sven. I understand,]] Moose Boy assured him, [[I promise I won't let you down again.]]

Otterman gave him a nod, and then pulled his lock-picking kit out of his pocket. Quietly picking the door lock, he waited a moment to make sure Dash hadn't heard anything, and then he silently opened the door a crack. Dash was facing away from the door and Otterman quietly crept into the room, glancing around as he did so.

Closing the door silently, he kept a wary eye on Dash and slowly approached the bed. After confirming that Dash was indeed asleep, he began looking for things he could swipe. Knowing anything he took could be easily replaced, and he knew he wouldn't have to feel guilty over it. He found a coat lying on a chair and when he dug through the pockets, he found a gucci wallet. He gave another glance to Dash and then opened it to see what was inside. There were several currencies from around the world inside and he grabbed it all, hoping there were at least a few hundred dollars worth. Pocketing the cash, he put the wallet back, and then turned his attention to the six dufflebags laying at the ends of the beds.

Otterman tip-toed over and knelt next to one of the bags and then unzipped it. Dash instantly shifted at the quiet noise and Otterman froze, realizing Dash was an extremely light sleeper. He carefully didn't move for several long seconds, and when Dash's breathing evened out again, he began digging through the bag. He wrinkled his nose when he realized it was Neal's bag, and just to spite, he took his ipod.

He unzipped another bag incredibly slowly and this time didn't make any noise. The next couple bags didn't hold anything of value, but when he found Dash's bag, he hit the motherload. Dash had extremely expensive tastes and Otterman knew pretty much anything in the bag could be pawned for a hefty amount. Feeling a little bad about only stealing from Dash, he stole a watch, some cufflinks and then a really fancy-looking gold-coloured 3DS. Little things like this would probably take a while to be noticed missing.

Otterman started to creep towards the next bag when he suddenly heard a key being inserted into the door. Dash immediately shifted at the sound and Otterman quickly rolled under the bed just as the door opened.

He saw three pairs of legs enter the room, and he held his breath, hoping they hadn't seen him.

"Heya, Dash," one of the men greeted, "How are you feeling now?"

"Fine," Dash growled out, obviously quite grumpy.

"Do you need me to help you get up?" the man asked.

There was a long pause.

"...yes," Dash replied, not sounding like he wanted to admit it.

"Okay, I'll help you. Just a sec."

Otterman had no idea which twin was speaking, but a moment later, he saw two massive legs stand directly in front of his face. A moment later, they walked off towards the bathroom.

"Where's Crackle?" Dash demanded, from the direction the legs were headed.

"He'll be back in just a few minutes. He got car sick," the unknown twin replied.

Otterman noticed the twin was carrying Dash, and realized the other man was hurt a lot worse than he'd originally been told. Was something like this worth reporting to Roundabout? Feeling a little bad about stealing from a sick man, Otterman frowned, but knew it was necessary. They had no other choice.

A few minutes later, the twin returned and he felt the bed shift above him as Dash was laid back down.

"I can't wait to be able to take a shower," Dash commented, "Crackle said tomorrow the stitches should be healed enough."

"Yeah, you're starting to look a bit greasy," the other twin commented.

"Excuse me?!" Dash snarled, his tone completely venomous.

"...I'm putting on the tv," the twin said, realizing that had not been the correct thing to say.

As everyone in the room settled themselves down on their beds to watch television, Otterman realized he was there for the long haul. No one was really saying much, and he wished they'd discuss something he could report. He had no idea what Roundabout was so concerned about, but assumed the man was worried about Team Crackle defecting.

After an hour of laying there, he heard one of the beds shift a bit as someone large moved.

"What's taking Crackle so long?"

"Do you think he got sick again?"

He still couldn't tell the twins voices apart, but when Paper Star spoke up, he knew who she was.

"I want to attack Team Red," she complained, "Where is Crackle's tablet?"

"We don't know his password," a twin stated. "If you guess wrong three times, it erases the data."

"What are you talking about?" Dash demanded, "What happened during the meeting? The greaseball's not with you, so it's probably safe to assume it didn't go well."

Otterman eagerly listened as Dash was brought up to speed, mentally making notes of what he could report. When they were finally done explaining, Dash seemed to be thoughtful as he didn't speak for a few minutes.

"Is it really a good idea to storm the Team Red base when there's only four of you?"

"Obviously we would attack when they're least expecting it, and kill them in their sleep or something," Paper Star scoffed, "I could even do this myself if I knew where to go."

"I just don't understand where Crackle is…" a twin commented, "Should I go look for him?"

"He told you to wait for him here," Paper Star responded impatiently, "He probably just thought of an errand he had to run."

"...yeah, you're probably right."

The team went back to watching tv, and as hour after hour passed, Otterman could feel his back seizing up on him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his pills and silently opened them. Popping one into his mouth, he dry swallowed it with a wince and then put the bottle away. He knew Moose Boy was probably incredibly worried by now, but there was no way he was giving himself away just yet. If he could escape this situation without getting beaten, then he was willing to lay there all night if he had to.

The hours continued to drag by and while Team Crackle were chatting amongst themselves, they weren't saying anything important. At one point they had ordered pizza, and the smell was driving Otterman crazy. He hadn't eaten since the day before, and he clutched his stomach trying to hide the fact it was growling. Luckily the tv was turned up loud enough to hide the sound, and so he remained laying there miserable and hungry.

"This is getting ridiculous," one of the twins commented. "I don't care if he gets mad; I'm going out to look for him."

"I'll go with you," said the other twin, "Paper Star, you stay here with Dash. When he wakes up, try to get him to eat something."

Paper Star let out a snort, clearly having no intention of doing that. Otterman watched as the twins left and suddenly he was alone in the room with just Paper Star and an unconscious Dash. Paper Star turned off the television and the room was suddenly completely silent. Placing his hands over his nose and mouth to mask the sound of his breathing, Otterman realized if she found him with no witnesses around, she would probably kill him. Paper Star had a reputation, and Otterman was suddenly regretting this decision very much.

He laid there for a long time, barely daring to breathe, and Paper Star made no movement or sound to indicate where she was or what she was doing. He finally heard the door open, and when the door closed suddenly there was the sound of hissing and yowling. He glanced over just in time to see a cat zoom under the bed where he was in order to hide. The second the cat realized there was a person there, it clawed him across the face and then darted away again. Clutching his face in agony, he forced himself to remain quiet, despite wanting to yell some very colourful vocabulary. The cat must have woken up Dash because he heard a startled yelp from the other man.

"What the hell is that?!" Dash demanded, his tone sounding somewhat panicked.

"That's Steve," he heard Crackle respond.

Only a second later there was a thud, and Otterman glanced over and saw Crackle had collapsed to the ground. For a brief moment, the other man's gaze met his own, and then Crackle went into a violent seizure. Otterman watched with wide eyes as Crackle was immediately tended to, having no idea what was going on. Team Crackle argued about reporting the seizure to faculty, and when they decided to break protocol by taking Crackle to a hospital, Otterman knew this was probably exactly the sort of thing he was supposed to report. The twins and Paper Star left with Crackle, and he was now alone with Dash. Knowing the other man was still incredibly sick, he hoped Dash went back to sleep soon so he could make his escape.

After a time he heard Dash talking to someone and assumed it was probably the cat. To his surprise, he then heard a com conversation between Dash and Roundabout. Was Dash another informant on the inside, or was he just tattling? He listened closely to the conversation, but it didn't seem like Roundabout was expecting the call, and so Dash likely wasn't working for him. When the call ended, he heard Dash shift a bit, and then he heard him speaking to the cat again.

"Do you have to lay right beside my pillow?" he complained, "Go sleep on Neal's pillow, I'm sure it's already crawling with bacteria and grease. Your garbage stench won't make much of a difference."

The cat let out a croaky meow.

"Yeah, you're right, you'd probably catch something," Dash commented, "Go sleep anywhere else then, just not near me."

There was another meow.

"No, go on!" Dash ordered, "I don't like you, you one-eyed fleabag, and so stop edging closer! Go away!"

The cat made a weird meow in response to Dash's anger.

"Shoo! Go! Get out of here!"

The cat clearly didn't move because Dash let out a heavy sigh. "Are you really going to make me touch you?" he demanded irritably.

Dash then let out another sigh, and a second later Otterman saw the cat land on the floor as it was pushed off the bed. The cat narrowed its eye at Otterman and then hopped right back up onto the bed. Dash let out a groan.

"Aaaaaand now you're on my back again, you disgusting thing..."

Dash muttered a few unintelligible things under his breath, and Otterman heard him shift in bed. Otterman waited a few minutes and when there was no movement, he very, very cautiously peeked out from under the bed. He could see Dash's hand hanging over the edge of the bed, and so he quietly scooted to the other side so he could crawl out without being seen. Remaining on his belly, he crawled out, and then looked up at the bed. He could see the cat glaring at him, but Dash seemed none the wiser.

Not wanting to chance the door, he crawled for the bathroom, knowing there was a window. Once inside the bathroom, he closed the door as quietly as he could, and then went to get up. He then realized he couldn't get off the floor. Cursing his back, he reached into his pocket for the pain pills and popped another one. He was worried Team Crackle could return at any moment, but he had no choice but to wait for the pain to become manageable.

After what seemed like an eternity, he felt his back begin to numb, and so he slowly pushed up to his knees, grimacing at the pain. Pulling himself to his feet using the sink, he took a deep breath before he turned his gaze to the window. Slowly unlocking it and pulling it open, he winced at the creak it made. Giving a hard punch to the screen, it popped off, and then he awkwardly began pulling himself out through the window. Having no choice, he allowed himself to fall out of the window, and he let out a strangled cry as his back was slammed into the hard concrete.

He laid there stunned for a long moment, and then suddenly Moose Boy was standing over him.

[[Sven!]] he cried out, his face twisted in worry, [[You were in there for so long, and I didn't know what to do!]]

Otterman simply laid there as waves of pain coursed through his body.

[[Sven?]]

Otterman grit his teeth, and stared up at Moose Boy with desperate eyes. [[Help.]]

Moose Boy's eyes widened, and he knelt down without hesitation, and very, very gently scooped Otterman into his arms.

[[Careful,]] Otterman begged.

[[I knew you weren't ready for this,]] Moose Boy fretted as he carried him back towards their room. [[I knew it, but you wouldn't listen to me!]]

Otterman said nothing, simply concentrating on pushing past the pain. When they entered their motel room, Moose Boy gently laid him down on the bed, and Otterman carefully turned on his side, the pressure on his back finally receding a bit. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his pills and Moose Boy frowned at him.

[[You're only supposed to take one of those a day. How many have you had?]]

Otterman poured a pill out into his hand. [[One,]] he responded.

Moose Boy furrowed his brow. [[Didn't you take a second pill earlier before we left?]]

Otterman popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed. [[No, that was a Tylenol.]] he lied.

Moose Boy stared at him for a few moments, almost certain he had seen Otterman take one earlier. He wasn't completely sure however, and so he simply frowned and then took a seat next to him.

[[What happened?]] he asked.

[[I had to hide under a bed until I could sneak out,]] Otterman said, [[I managed to get a few things before I had to hide though.]]

Otterman reached into his pockets and pulled out the few things he'd stolen. He thumbed through the cash and saw that after converted, there was probably about two grand total. That would last a while, but not for long. He'd have to look up the value on the watch and the cufflinks, and he knew they could potentially be worth thousands as well.

[[Are we good now?]] Moose Boy asked hopefully. He still felt terrible for losing their money and he hoped they'd be fine from now on.

[[We did okay,]] Otterman responded, feeling a bit light-headed.

[[So, what now?]]

Otterman stared at the cash thoughtfully and then pulled out a twenty. [[I want pizza,]] he commented, holding it out towards the other man.

Moose Boy grinned at him widely. [[Sure! I'll go get it now!]]

As Moose Boy left, Otterman closed his eyes, his whole body feeling completely numb. His mind felt oddly fuzzy, and he felt himself drift off to sleep, for once completely pain free.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Carmen took a sip of her coffee, and exchanged a glance with the rest of the team who were sitting in the living room, practically comatose. It was 3:30 in the morning, and Neal had been loudly telling story after story, keeping them all wide awake.

"Gonna kill him…" Tigress muttered, her eyes closed.

"Gonna kill him," Ivy agreed, popping open an energy drink.

"I believe actions will have to be taken," Shadowsan stated, looking absolutely furious.

"This can't go on," Carmen agreed, "I'm open to suggestions."

"Gut him."

"Gag him."

"Put him in a closet."

"Beat him."

Carmen shook her head. "Guys, no, abusing him is not the answer. We need to find a way to resolve this peacefully."

El Topo felt really guilty over allowing Neal to sleep and he averted his gaze from the others. "Neal's not a bad guy," he said hesitantly, "He is with V.I.L.E, but he's not a bad person."

"Oh right," Ivy growled, "Because him keeping us awake is clearly the actions of a saint."

El Topo shook his head. "He could have escaped if he was willing to hurt one of us," he pointed out, "He could have at any time wrapped his chain around my throat and then demanded to be released."

Le Chèvre bristled at the thought.

"You would have let him go," El Topo stated, feeling absolutely sure of himself.

Carmen looked around at the faces of her team and knew this was the truth. She would have released Neal immediately if the life of her friends were at stake.

"What's your point?" Tigress demanded.

"Neal is trying to wear you down in a different way, a peaceful way," El Topo responded. "We can't respond with violence or it will make things escalate."

Shadowsan considered this and then nodded his agreement. "Neal is a talented operative and so he could have escaped if he was willing to hurt one of you. I do not believe he feels like his life is in danger, and so he is being pretty docile. If we make him feel threatened however, this could change in an instant."

"Then what do you suggest?" Le Chèvre said impatiently. "This can't go on!"

Ivy then smiled. "I have an idea," she said, "This works against my brother, and so I bet it will work against the eel as well…"

Ivy now had everyone's undivided attention.

"I'm listening," Carmen said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Player was laying in bed watching on his phone as Neal told another story. He was the only member of Team Red who didn't mind the stories and was completely fascinated. Neal was re-telling some of the missions he'd been on over the years, and the sound effects he came up with were both amusing and impressive at the same time.

"He stood over me with an imperious sneer on his face and placed the barrel of the gun against my head. CA-LICK as the the gun was cocked. I stared up at him with wide eyes, knowing my life was about to end. THUD THUD THUD My heart sounded like thunder in my ears, and I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but a cold hatred in his gaze. I had stolen the pride of his collection and now it lay shattered at our feet in a million pieces. I didn't dare move a muscle, the icy metal of the gun pressed tightly to my temple. I felt a cold sweat start to form on my face as his finger began inching towards the trigger. He was going to kill me, and there was nothing I could do about it. THUD THUD THUD went my heart, the sound so loud now that it almost seemed to deafen me.

He didn't say a word, not caring who I was or who had sent me. I had destroyed the one thing he valued most, and he would make me pay in blood. I could see the exact moment he began to press the trigger. There was a tightening around his eyes, and his whole body tensed. It was then that the door to the study opened.

CREEEEEK

We both turned to stare at the open door, and the man's young son stood there, the commotion having woken him up. The boy rubbed at his eyes tiredly, dressed in little footie pajamas, and for just a moment, the man's finger left the trigger.

'Daddy?' the boy questioned.

I threw myself to the side and slammed my hand upwards, and with a CRACK I snapped the man's wrist as I knocked the gun from his hand. I now had the gun, and the man clutched at his hand with gritted teeth, falling to his knees in pain. I stood to my feet and placed the gun against his head, the man freezing as he realized what had happened. I saw his eyes widen, and then his gaze flickered over to his son. A raw fear entered his eyes, and I could see the pleading look, the man afraid for his son.

'Daddy?' the boy repeated, his voice confused, 'What are you doing?'

I stared at the boy, and then I stared at the man, knowing that V.I.L.E protocol dictated I kill them both. They had seen my face and witnesses were never allowed.

'Please...not in front of him,' the man whispered, 'Don't make him watch this. Please.'

I stared down at him, and knew what I had to do. He could see my sudden resolve, because he closed his eyes in anticipation of the shot.

WHACK

I slammed the pistol into the side of his head hard, and he collapsed to the floor unconscious. I tossed the gun aside, and the boy stared at me with wide eyes.

'Daddy?!'

I approached the boy and knelt down in front of him, offering him a smile.

'Daddy went to sleep, love. It's very late, and you should be in bed.'

The boy glanced over at his father skeptically. 'You...you hit him.'

'Naw, we were just playing. He's okay.'

The boy bit his lower lip and I knew he didn't believe me.

'I know you're lying,' he told me, 'But...he's a dick, so it's okay.'

This took me by surprise, and I couldn't stop the laugh that escaped me. 'What's your name, sweetheart?' I asked

This little kid, no older than seven, stared at me like I was an absolute idiot. He didn't even look scared of me at all, his big brown eyes full of distrust.

'I'm Michael, but most people just call me Mj,' he replied, glancing over my shoulder at his father.

"Hello, Mj, my name is Neal," I replied, hoping to ease his worry.

Mj then frowned at me thoughtfully. 'Are you a thief?' he demanded. "My daddy kills thieves. One time he blew one's brains out in the kitchen."

I was honestly quite disturbed by this, but knew it wasn't the kid's fault his father was a psycho.

'Come on, Mj, let's get you back to bed, love,' I told him in amusement, picking the boy up, 'Your daddy will be just fine in the morning.'"

Player was listening with rapt attention, loving the story so far. "And then what happened?" he asked eagerly.

"I then put the boy back to bed and left the mansion. I may have failed my first solo mission, but at least I didn't die."

"What did V.I.L.E do?" Player asked. "They must have been pretty mad."

"To my surprise, the break-in and assault was never even reported to the police. V.I.L.E never found out I had been seen."

"Who were the people you tried to rob?"

Neal gave a shrug. "Just some rich assholes. Want to hear about the time I was sent to steal a dinosaur egg?"

Player adjusted himself more comfortably in bed. "Definitely!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Neal looked up as he heard the basement door open. He had finished his last story about an hour before, and knew he had likely kept Team Red awake all night again. He had tossed his contacts out the night before, and so his vision was blurry, and he had to squint to see who it was approaching. He then gave Carmen a cheeky grin as she descended the stairs, but her expression was annoyed and she didn't say anything. She set a tray of breakfast beside him and Neal frowned at the sight of it. The whole breakfast looked disgustingly healthy and he wrinkled his nose at it.

"Uh...what's this?" he asked, poking at a pile of cooked spinach.

Carmen didn't answer him, and instead turned and headed back to the stairs without a word.

"Black Sheep?" Neal called after her in confusion.

Carmen kept walking and he frowned at her, not used to being ignored.

"Carmen?" he tried.

She didn't so much as glance at him, and a moment later, she was gone. Neal furrowed his brow, realizing he must have really made her mad for her to act like this. Pulling the tray over, he saw there wasn't one single thing on that tray that he would willingly eat. There was cooked spinach, roasted vegetables, and egg whites with a pile of Lima beans.

"Ugh," he commented, "Dash food."

Even the glass of orange juice had been replaced with some sort of green smoothie. Picking up the glass, he gave it a sniff and could smell ginger, spinach and lime. He set the glass back down and flopped over onto the mattress, having no intention of eating any of that. He expected someone to come down to collect the tray, and he was planning on complaining about the food, but no one came. He tried calling for someone, but he was ignored. He tried being as loud as he could, but still no one came to check on him.

Giving up, he napped for a couple hours, but hunger soon woke him up. Once again he tried calling for Team Red, but they ignored him. He stared at the breakfast tray, but was feeling stubborn, and refused to even touch it. After two hours of glaring at the breakfast tray, his stomach began to growl uncomfortably.

Neal gave a poke to the food, and scowled at it. There was no way he was eating any of that. He'd rather starve. By the time lunchtime finally rolled around, he was absolutely ravenous, and feeling rather grumpy that no one had spoken to him all morning. When he finally heard footsteps on the stairs, he perked up and watched as Tigress approached him with a tray of lunch. He gave her a beaming smile, glad to finally have a bit of company.

"Hi Sheena!" he greeted.

She didn't answer as she knelt down to set down the tray.

"Um, what was with breakfast?" Neal demanded, "Team Red on a health kick or something?"

Tigress said nothing and simply set down the lunch tray, and then picked up his untouched breakfast tray. When she turned to leave without so much as glancing at him, Neal's smile dropped away.

"Sheena?" he questioned, "What's going on?"

She said nothing, and then started up the stairs.

"Sheena?"

Once she was gone, Neal furrowed his brow. Okay, this was getting weird. Were they giving him the silent treatment or something? Turning his attention to his lunchtray, he stared down at the salad in disgust. There was another green smoothie, and a side of sliced avocado. Feeling petulant, he shoved the tray away and flopped backwards onto his mattress. He was so unbelievably bored that he felt like he was going crazy.

"Hey, guys?!" Neal bellowed up towards the ceiling, "Can someone come down here for a sec?"

Neal paused and listened, but no one came down or responded.

"What's going on?" he demanded, "Are you guys ignoring me?"

"Hey, Tiny Tim, are you listening?" he asked hopefully.

There was no response.

"Aw, even you're refusing to talk to me?" he asked in disappointment, "After we had such a fun storytime last night?"

"Sorry, Neal," came a whisper from the nearby speaker. "You're being punished and I've been ordered not to talk to you. I have to go radio-silent for now. Sorry."

"I really am getting the silent treatment?!" Neal exclaimed.

Player didn't answer.

"Oh, come on, this is ridiculous!" Neal protested.

Neal let out a groan and rolled over on the mattress, holding his growling stomach with a scowl. For once in his life he wished he didn't have such a fast metabolism. He wasn't used to missing meals, and was already miserable. They were feeding him garbage food on purpose, but he wouldn't give in. He refused. He hadn't willingly eaten vegetables in his entire life.

He napped off and on for a while, but his hunger made it difficult to sleep, and he found himself staring at the lunch tray more and more often. Finally, he pulled the tray over and stared down at it, looking for anything at all that was edible. He poked at the salad, and then discovered there were almonds in it. Picking out the almonds, he set them aside and then lifted up the lettuce, but there was nothing else that interested him. Letting out a deep sigh, he begrudgingly picked out the cherry tomatoes, and then popped an almond into his mouth.

When the small handful of nuts were gone, he grimaced as he bit one of the tomatoes. In his opinion, the only thing tomatoes were good for was tomato sauce and ketchup. Raw tomatoes tasted too much like a vegetable for his liking. Neal furrowed his brow. Were tomatoes vegetables? He wasn't actually certain, but either way, he didn't really like them. A dozen almonds and four cherry tomatoes weren't exactly a very filling lunch, but Neal was stubborn and refused to touch the rest.

Neal was unbelievably bored and just a bit lonely, and that coupled with being hungry was too much. He began yelling angrily up at the ceiling, telling Team Red exactly what he thought of them, but they still ignored him. He yanked at the chain around his ankle, desperate to just have some sort of mental stimulation. He felt like he was going crazy. The basement was completely silent, and it was honestly starting to get to him. Neal was a very social person, and always kept himself occupied doing something, but there was absolutely nothing he could do down in the basement.

He felt himself losing his temper, and he tossed the tray across the room, watching as it splattered against the wall with a satisfying crash. Glass was flung in all directions, and he stared at the mess, feeling just a little bit better. He glanced towards the staircase, and then visibly deflated when no one came.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay!" he yelled up to the ceiling, "I'll let you guys sleep tonight, I promise! Can someone just come down and talk to me? Just for a minute?"

Neal waited hopefully, but he was met with the sound of silence.

"I'm sorry!" he called again.

When no one came, Neal flopped back onto the mattress, hoping Crackle would rescue him fast. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. After a while he heard the basement door open, and he hurriedly sat up as the person began descending. He smiled at the sight of El Topo and he gave him a friendly wave.

"Hi, Antonio!" he greeted.

Neal didn't miss the quick glance El Topo gave him, and knew he might be able to get him to talk.

"Everything okay up there?" he asked. "Everyone has been pretty quiet today…"

El Topo set down a suppertray and then approached with a roll of paper towels to clean up the mess from the lunch tray. Neal glanced at the stir fried vegetables on the plate, and let out a groan.

"You guys are going to starve me," he whined, "I don't eat...any of that stuff. Vegetables and I have a complicated relationship."

El Topo said nothing, and Neal frowned.

"Antonio, I'm sorry."

El Topo stopped cleaning, but didn't turn around to face him.

"I'm sorry," Neal repeated, "You were right and I shouldn't have kept pushing you guys. I'll stay quiet, I promise. Just please stop ignoring me."

El Topo continued cleaning up the mess, and Neal edged over, the chain not quite reaching far enough.

"Antonio, come on," Neal pleaded, "Just look at me."

El Topo tensed up, and scrubbed harder at the mess.

"Antonio, please?"

El Topo suddenly seized the tray and then fled upstairs, and Neal watched him go in disappointment. Neal crawled his way back to the mattress and laid down, not even bothering to look at the supper tray. How long was this going to last? Days? Weeks? How long was he going to be here for? Neal laid there simply staring at the staircase silently, and after a while someone came down to collect his tray. He didn't even bother to look to see who it was and just continued lying there silently. The person left again, and once again he was surrounded by silence.

Neal laid there in the same position, simply wishing he could fall asleep to escape the boredom. After a while, he heard the sounds of yelling coming from upstairs, and the sounds of breaking glass. What in the world was going on up there? The yells he heard only seemed to be half of a conversation, and he couldn't tell who else was involved in the argument. Only a minute later, he heard the basement door bang open, and he heard furious footsteps stomp their way down the stairs. Neal looked up and then blinked in surprise.

"Ohhhh, now it makes sense," he commented.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Mime Bomb and Zack exited the plane, they saw Ivy and Tigress waiting for them next to the car. Ivy ran for Zack and threw her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Missed me, Ivy?" Zack joked, returning the hug.

Ivy immediately punched him hard in the shoulder. "I knew I shouldn't have let you go!" she cried out, "I let you out of my sight for two seconds and you almost get kidnapped!"

"Look, we're okay, alright?" Zack said, waving an arm at himself. "We'll explain everything once we're home. Mime Bomb has had a tough couple days"

Ivy stared at Mime Bomb who was still barefoot and in his pajamas, and she yanked him into a hug, giving him a sad look. "I'm sorry your reunion with your sister got ruined," she told him.

"Player got in contact with Alys to let her know we got away safely, and he's going to work out some way for us to contact her," Zack explained.

Ivy released Mime Bomb who was eyeing Tigress warily, remembering her threat. He slowly began edging towards the car, keeping Zack in front of him as he did as. Tigress rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"Relax, dork, I'm not going to hurt you. I think you've been through enough."

Mime Bomb relaxed, and offered her a hesitant smile. She rolled her eyes again, and then got in the car without another word. Ivy threw her arms around both of her brothers and grinned at them.

"You guys missed out on a lot! Wait until we fill you in on everything!"

On the ride back to the base Ivy told them all about her newest gadget she'd been working on, and she was incredibly proud of it. It was a piece that attached onto Carmen's grappling gun that would shoot out another line that would work as a secondary anchor if the line had to support a lot of weight. It hadn't been fully tested yet, but Ivy was certain it would work.

When they arrived back at the base, everyone was waiting for them in the living room. Carmen gave them both a wide smile, and Mime Bomb raised a hand to his face, not liking the fact he'd been without his makeup for over a day now. Chase got to his feet and approached Mime Bomb, and before anyone could stop him, he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and shoved him hard against the wall.

"Your name is Volkov." Chase stated, his eyes narrowed.

"Chase!" Julia protested, pulling on his arm uselessly. "Let him go!"

Mime Bomb stared at him with wide eyes, and Chase stared the boy in the face, trying to see signs of guilt. All he saw was uncertainty and a little bit of fear, and so he reluctantly released him, just as he was pulled away by Shadowsan and El Topo.

"Chase!" Carmen scolded, her tone furious, "This is not how we're going to talk to him! You do not lay hands on family!"

Chase's expression twisted into a pained look and Carmen realized what she'd just said. She crossed the room and took his hand in hers.

"You're part of our family, Chase, and so is Mime Bomb. We'll all talk about this in a calm and rational manner, alright?"

Chase clenched his fists but gave a nod. Mime Bomb turned a wide-eyed look to Zack and who looked just as confused.

"I have no idea, man…" he said.

Carmen turned her attention to Zack and Mime Bomb. "How about if we start by filling you in on everything that's happened? Come take a seat with us."

Mime Bomb glanced down at himself and then turned a yearning gaze towards his bedroom, just wanting to get back into his mime costume. Carmen saw his troubled expression and she rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on," she urged, "It won't take long."

Mime Bomb heaved a sigh, and then took a seat on the couch beside Le Chèvre. Zack took a seat on the other couch, they looked to Carmen in question. Carmen sat down, and then began explaining everything they missed while being away. She told them of the meetings with Crackle, about the capture of Neal and Dash, about Dash getting ill, about the visit from Dr. Vess, but she purposely left out the bit about Michael Finnegan Jr. escaping prison. When she was finally finished, Mime Bomb and Zack were staring at her in complete shock, unable to believe all of this had happened in just four days.

"Sooo, you're saying Neal is down in our basement right now?" Zack asked, turning his gaze to the basement door.

Ivy gave a laugh. "Yeah, he's being punished though. He was telling stories non-stop allll night and keeping us awake, and so we're teaching him a lesson."

Zack raised an eyebrow. "How?" he demanded.

"We're giving him the complete silent treatment," she replied smugly, "No one looks at him, no one speaks to him, and no one reacts to anything he does. Now he has to sit down there in complete silence with nothing to do and he has no one to blame but himself!"

Mime Bomb turned to stare at her with wide and horrified eyes, but she didn't notice.

"We also stopped catering to his childish diet. We've been providing him with nothing but health food and the stubborn guy hasn't eaten at all today! He's literally starving himself! Maybe this will make him keep his damn mouth closed!"

Mime Bomb remembered when he was first brought to The Room when he was seven, and he had sung all day, every day, just wanting to fill in the silence with something. Being surrounded by so much nothing had been unbearable until he had distracted himself from it. They did not like that, and they had beaten him, and even tried starving him in an attempt to make him compliant. Mime Bomb remembered the burning hunger that had consumed him, but the starvation had been more bearable than the silence. Then they had stolen his voice...

It was the loneliness and the silence that had made his captivity so unbearable, and even thinking about it sent waves of terror through Mime Bomb as if he was reliving it. They were doing the same thing to Neal. His family was making someone suffer in the same way he had. Mime Bomb closed his eyes and began to shake, remembering the hopeless despair he had felt for years. He thought he had finally found a safe place, a place where he could begin to forget, but his new family were torturing Neal just for using his voice. They were stealing his voice...

Before Mime Bomb even realizing what he was doing, he had picked up the tv remote and drove it straight at the screen, shattering it. Everyone instantly went silent.

"Mime Bomb?!" Carmen asked in disbelief.

"What the hell?!" Tigress bellowed out, staring at the destroyed tv.

Mime Bomb was shaking visibly now, and Zack approached him, having no idea what was wrong. The second he was touched, Mime Bomb jerked away from him, and when he looked up at the room, his gaze was filled with a fury they had never seen before. He furiously kicked over a tv tray, and then began signing fast and angrily towards Zack. Zack stared at him blankly and then turned a helpless gaze to the rest of the room.

"I-I don't understand…" he said hesitantly, "I don't know what's wrong!"

Player suddenly spoke up. "He's saying 'How dare you! I never expected any of you to be this cruel! You are going to let Neal out of the basement now!'"

"Wait, what?!" Tigress cried out in outrage.

"We're not going to let Neal go, Mime Bomb," Carmen answered, still incredibly confused. "We're not being cruel to him. He's safe down there and no one is hurting him."

Mime Bomb turned rage-filled eyes on her, and Carmen was taken aback. Mime Bomb kicked over another tv tray, sending several glasses of soda crashing to the floor, glass and liquid spraying everywhere.

"No, you are letting him go now !" Player translated, "You are not leaving him down there!"

Shadowsan was to his feet in an instant. "Stop this childish tantrum at once!" he ordered in a warning tone.

Mime Bomb grabbed a pillow off the couch and slammed it to the ground, frustrated and angry that he couldn't make them understand. The Room flashed in his eyes, and he felt fear and anger consume him and he met Shadowsan's eyes defiantly.

"Pick up that cushion right now." Shadowsan ordered. "You are stopping this childishness."

While maintaining direct eye contact, Mime Bomb stomped on the pillow as hard as he could.

Shadowsan was instantly looming over him, and he grabbed Mime Bomb by the arm, having every intention of forcing the boy to sit down until he calmed down. Mime Bomb's reaction however, was to lash out with an elbow, and he caught Shadowsan in the gut, surprising him into letting go.

Mime Bomb shoved past Carmen and to their surprise, he opened the basement door and started down.

"What the hell was that!?" Tigress cried out.

"Something set him off…" Zack said hesitantly. "I've never seen him like this…"

"Player, put the base into lockdown for right now." Carmen ordered, "Maybe once Mime Bomb brings Neal up, he'll calm down and finally tell us what's going on."

"The boy is unstable," Chase stated, crossing his arms.

"He's been through a terrible ordeal," Carmen responded.

"Are we really going to allow him to release Neal?" Le Chèvre demanded.

"Of course not, right Carm?" Ivy asked.

"No, but perhaps if Mime Bomb sees Neal is unharmed, it will calm him down. Let's just allow him to do whatever he thinks he needs to, and then we'll ask him about it."

"Aw, the tv…" Zack said mournfully, "I loved that tv."

Shadowsan turned angry eyes to the basement door, having every intention of giving Mime Bomb a thorough dressing down once he came back up. Rubbing at his stomach, he took a seat, and crossed his arms to wait.

Mime Bomb hurried down the stairs, and when he reached the bottom, he saw Neal lying on the ratty mattress with a chain around his ankle.

"Ohhhh, now it makes sense," Neal commented, sitting up.

Neal stared at him, this being the first time he'd ever seen the mime without his makeup. He stared at the muddy pajamas and dirty bare feet and wondered what the boy had been through. Whatever it was, Mime Bomb looked absolutely furious.

Mime Bomb padded across the room and then knelt down beside him, and Neal realized the boy was reaching for the chain.

"Hi, Mime Bomb," Neal said, "Or do you go by something else without your makeup?"

Mime Bomb looked up and when he made eye contact, Neal didn't realize how much he'd missed such a small action. Mime Bomb gently touched the bruises on Neal's injured foot and he then turned questioning eyes to the villain.

"I can't walk on it yet," Neal told him, "I'll be out of commission for a few days."

Mime Bomb nodded and inspected the lock on the chain. As suspected, it was locked with a fingerprint reader. Having no idea if it would even work for him, he placed his thumb against it and to his surprise it popped open. Neal stared at him in surprise and then immediately reached down to rub at his ankle.

"What's going on?" Neal asked, "Has Crackle come for me?"

Mime Bomb shook his head, and then held out his hands to help the taller man to his feet. Neal was incredibly confused but he still accepted the hands and then struggled to get up on his good leg. Mime Bomb pointed towards the stairs, and Neal nodded, just glad to get out of the basement. Hoping the thin little mime would be able to support him, Neal leaned on Mime Bomb and they began slowly and carefully making their way to the stairs.

"You okay, love?" Neal asked, "Am I too heavy?"

Mime Bomb shook his head and helped him up the first step. It was a slow and careful process, but when they made it to the top, Mime Bomb didn't loosen his hold. They stepped into the living room and Neal was met with the sight of a destroyed living room and nine pairs of angry eyes staring at him.

"Er...hi," Neal greeted, having a feeling he was not welcome up there.

"Sit him on the couch," Carmen ordered.

Mime Bomb glared at her, and continued walking past, Neal going with him, feeling incredibly confused.

"Mime Bomb." Shadowsan said, tone firm. "Sit Neal on the couch, and stop this nonsense."

Nonsense. Nonsense. They honestly had no idea what they had done, and Mime Bomb clenched his hands angrily into the fabric of Neal's shirt. Mime Bomb knew the base was in lockdown, but his destination wasn't outside, and he kept walking, ignoring the others completely. He knew he was being followed as he walked down the hall, but he pretended he didn't notice. When he reached his destination, he helped Neal sit down at the kitchen table, and then turned to cross the room. Neal simply stared at him in confusion, having no idea what was going on. A few seconds later, Mime Bomb held up a package of spaghetti, a loaf of bread, and a can of soup towards him.

"Are...are you asking me which one I want?" Neal asked in surprise.

Mime Bomb nodded.

Neal glanced over at their audience who seemed just as confused as him. "Erm...sandwich, I guess?" he replied.

Mime Bomb nodded and then opened the fridge to pull out ingredients. Neal watched him in mild amusement, unable to believe the mime was actually going to make him a sandwich.

"No veggies please, love," he called over.

Mime Bomb put the lettuce and tomato back in the fridge. Zack approached and stood by Mime Bomb's side, giving him a worried look. Mime Bomb washed his hands at the sink, and then turned towards Neal. He held up a single finger on one hand and then held up two fingers on the other hand.

Neal was absolutely starving and so he replied. "Two?"

Mime Bomb gave him another nod and then turned to begin assembling the sandwiches. A few moments later, he set a plate down in front of Neal and then opened the fridge once again. He grabbed a can of soda and then set it on the table beside the plate.

"Hey, that's my Pepsi!" Ivy protested.

Mime Bomb shot her a baleful look and she went quiet, the expression one she'd never seen on his face before.

"Thanks, love," Neal told Mime Bomb uncertainly, sensing the tension in the room.

Mime Bomb then turned away from Neal and signed something very emphatically towards the others.

Player quickly spoke up. "He says to let Neal go."

Neal promptly choked on his bite of sandwich, not expecting this. He turned to stare at Team Red, having a feeling things were about to get interesting.

Carmen stepped forward and laid a hand on Mime Bomb's arm. "You know we can't just let him go. What's all this about? Tell us what's wrong."

Mime Bomb stomped a foot in pure anger, and then signed again.

"I'm not going to let you abuse Neal," Player said.

"We're not abusing anyone," Carmen assured him, "Neal's fine. Look at him, he's perfectly fine."

To Neal's complete surprise, Mime Bomb kicked over a chair, his expression furious.

"No ." Player translated. "He was not fine. You have no idea what it's like being in a place like that, do you?"

"Neal is fine." Shadowsan said, stepping forward. "Break one more thing, Mime Bomb, and we're going to have a problem."

Mime Bomb kicked another chair over, and before he even had time to react, Shadowsan had grabbed him, and pinned his arms to his side, pulling him away from anything he could break. To everyone's surprise, Mime Bomb began to kick and struggle with all his might, and after a moment of fighting to hold onto him, Shadwsan pinned the boy to the kitchen floor and placed a knee on his back.

"Enough!" Shadowsan scolded. "Stop this childish temper tantrum right now, and speak to us in a calm and civilized manner or else you're going to have to be restrained!"

Mime Bomb struggled even harder, and silent tears began making their way down his face, and Zack was there in an instant.

"You're scaring him!" he bellowed angrily. "Let him go now!"

No one had ever heard Zack so angry and Shadowsan hesitantly let go of Mime Bomb. Zack pulled the other boy into his arms, and he could feel him trembling in both fear and anger.

"I don't know what's going on, but this is not the right way of handling it!" Zack scolded. "You know Mime Bomb, and you know something has to be wrong!"

The others exchanged a look, and Neal was simply watching like he was observing some sort of show.

"Hey, buddy," Zack said softly, "Let's go talk for a minute, okay? Neal's just going to sit here eating supper, and he'll be safe, alright? No one's going to hurt him, and no one is going to make him move."

Mime Bomb glanced up at Neal and then looked to Carmen who gave him a nod. "I promise no one will touch Neal," she said, "I give you my word."

Mime Bomb seemed to sag in defeat and he gave a nod. Zack helped him to his feet, and Mime Bomb couldn't even bear to look at anyone as he allowed himself to be led away. Once they were gone, Neal raised a brow at Team Red.

"Well, that was interesting," he commented.

"Not a word, Neal," Shadowsan warned, shooting him a 'look'.

Neal rolled his eyes and took another bite of his sandwich.

"Player?" Carmen questioned.

"Just a sec, Red, I'm going to help translate for Zack."

"Does this mean you guys are going to start speaking to me again?" Neal questioned.

Ivy frowned at him, but honestly after everything that had happened, she wasn't even mad anymore.

" Si ," El Topo said, taking a seat at the table across from him. "I didn't like doing that. It felt mean."

"So what's the situation with Crackle?" Neal asked. "I'm starting to feel a little unwanted here…"

"Carmen met with him yesterday afternoon, but he hasn't been answering his phone," El Topo answered.

Neal furrowed his brow, knowing Crackle always answered his com unless it was an emergency. Had something happened? Was it something involving Dash? Did Dash take a turn for the worse? He had a feeling something was going on that he didn't know about, but he knew Team Red likely wouldn't know what it was. He ate in silence, and when he was finished, he leaned on the table with both elbows, aware of how everyone was staring at him.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know," he pointed out, "I can't exactly run away."

Le Chèvre righted one of the toppled chairs and then took a seat beside El Topo. "You're going back to the basement as soon as Mime Bomb calms down," he pointed out. "We don't want you up here, eel."

"Well, then I might as well enjoy your bright and cheery personality while I can," Neal responded with a grin.

Neal sat there for over an hour, feeling somewhat sleepy now that he was no longer hungry, and made casual conversation with El Topo while the rest of Team Red stood guard in the doorway. When Zack finally returned, he was looking completely pale.

"Zack?" Ivy questioned.

"Neal isn't going back to the basement," he stated, hands shaking as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Zack?" Carmen asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? What did Mime Bomb tell you?"

Zack squeezed his eyes closed. "Neal is not going back to that basement." he repeated, his voice unusually firm.

Carmen was incredibly concerned. "Player?" she called out.

"Red, I think I need to take a breather." Player responded. "I...I wasn't expecting...any of this."

He went silent, and Carmen stared at Zack with wide eyes. "What happened in there?!" she demanded.

"Put Neal in with Mime Bomb and I'll tell you what he told me," Zack stated. "He's given me permission to tell you everything, but he does not want to talk about it, not tonight anyway."

Everyone exchanged worried looks, and then all gazes went to Carmen. The doors and windows were sealed, and there was no possible way for Neal to escape and so she gave a nod.

"I'll help you, mi amigo," El Topo said, standing up.

Neal really wanted to know what the big secret was but knew there was zero chance of him being allowed to listen in. Not wanting to waste the effort of arguing, he simply nodded, and allowed El Topo to help him to his feet. As they slowly made their way down the hallway towards the bedrooms, the rest of Team Red made their way towards the living room.

When they entered Mime Bomb's room, they saw Mime Bomb was curled up in bed facing the wall, and seemingly trying to sleep. El Topo didn't say anything and instead helped Neal over to Zack's bed. As soon as Neal was seated, El Topo hurried out of the room, and Neal glanced over at Mime Bomb. He had a feeling the boy was wide awake, and he watched him for a few minutes in silence, before he laid back on the bed comfortably.

"Thank you, Mime Bomb," Neal stated.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Zack sat head in hand until El Topo joined them a couple minutes later. Ivy sat by her brother's side, worried about what could possibly be this bad.

"I'm going to leave out the really bad bits and just abridge it for you," Zack informed the room, "If you make me tell everything, I think I might throw up."

"Is it that bad?" Ivy asked in a whisper.

Zack's haunted blue eyes met hers. "Worse, Ivy, it's so much worse. You have no idea what he had to go through."

"Take your time, Zack," Carmen said gently, "What if you just start from the beginning?"

Zack closed his eyes and then gave a slow nod. "Alright," he agreed, "You already know how Mime Bomb's mother died in a car accident and so I'll skip that part."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Zack took a deep breath and then began "After his mother died, his grandmother began abusing him, blaming him for the accident. Finally she decided she didn't want him living in her house anymore. She told Mime Bomb he was being sent to live with his father, but this was a lie. Mime Bomb excitedly packed his bags, and when a black car showed up at their door, he went with the men without question."

Zack paused and looked up. "He was taken to a man he didn't know, and they took a vial of Mime Bomb's blood. He didn't know it at the time, but he now knows they were doing a dna test. The men were only gone a short while, and when they returned, the man had not been happy with the results.

He told Mime Bomb he was just the bastard of his younger brother, and an embarrassment to the name of Volkov. He said Mime Bomb looked nothing like his brother, and that he now had two brothers that had embarrassed him in such a way. This was how Mime Bomb first met his uncle Maxim."

Zack clenched his hands, and Ivy took one of his hands to offer him some silent support.

"Maxim took Mime Bomb to his lab in Russia, and placed him into the care of the doctors there. He was stripped, cleaned, given plain white pajamas and then taken to a small white room. The room was completely soundproofed, and the only contents of the room were a bed and a toilet. No matter how much he screamed or cried, no one ever came for him. He was fed three times a day, but the guards never spoke to him, and they ignored everything he did. The silence was unbearable, and so Mime Bomb used to sing to keep himself from going mad."

Zack felt silent as a tear slid down his cheek, and he swiped at it with a grimace.

"Zack?" Ivy asked, wrapping an arm around him. "It'll be okay."

"No it won't." Zack replied. "He'll never be alright. Those...those monsters made sure of that."

"What happened?" Tigress asked, knowing it was going to be horrible.

"They used to do experiments on him…" Zack said hesitantly. "Hundreds and hundreds of needles in every part of his body, even in his eyes. Mime Bomb has no idea what they were doing, but every time they took him from the white room, it was for hours and hours of pain. The only thing that kept him going was his ability to sing. He would use his song to hide from the pain, and fill his room with sound for just a while."

Zack turned mournful eyes to Carmen. "The doctors hated his singing and said it was hindering his progress. They began beating him, withholding food, and trying to bribe him into staying silent. Mime Bomb refused to be quiet, and so they finally got fed up and took him from his room. They put him to sleep and when he woke up, he discovered they had stolen his voice. He doesn't know what they did to him exactly, but it was excruciating and he hasn't been able to make a sound since."

"Oh my god," Tigress commented, her eyes wide in horror.

"After they took his voice, he experienced nothing except pain and silence for years. Sound became agonizing to him, and he had completely given up any hope of his misery ever ending. The only thing that kept him from losing his mind was his imagination. He would sit in his room and simply imagine all sorts of things, and he would fill his mind with all the sounds he had heard in his lifetime, imagining them to be real. He would imagine whole orchestras playing for him, and when he would concentrate, he would sometimes be able to forget where he was."

Zack took another deep breath. "Mime Bomb didn't know what they were doing to him, but he remembered hearing one of the doctors comment that he was showing great promise. He overheard them say he was going to be given the next series of injections and that they weren't certain his body was big enough to handle it. As he was taken back to his room, he heard them arguing about whether to do it now or wait a few more years.

It was just after this that Mime Bomb remembers hearing gunfire in the hallway outside his door. A bullet had hit his door, and it dented the slot he was fed through creating a hole. Suddenly sound filled his room, and at first it was agony, but then he slowly began to get used to it again. He watched through the hole and he saw his guards dead in front of him.

Suddenly all the staff had changed in the lab, and no more experiments were done on him. He was fed and that was the extent of his interactions with these new people. One day he awoke as his door was opened, and an older boy in a wheelchair came in, holding a chart. He asked questions about who Mime Bomb was and about what was done to his throat. The boy had some sort of horrific injury that he was recovering from, and he had a lot of difficulty walking. He came back over and over to speak with Mime Bomb over the next few months, and finally the day came that everything changed.

There was smoke and screams that filled the outside hallway, and Mime Bomb had no idea what was going on. Flames were coming through the vents on the walls, the fire spreading from room to room, and the walls around him quickly became an inferno. Just as Mime Bomb's room began getting too hot to stand, his door was suddenly opened. The older boy was there, standing and looking terrified. He threw a blanket around Mime Bomb and then ushered him out of the room.

There was darkness, smoke and screams and Mime Bomb could see people burning to death in the rooms around him. He was led past gunfire, stepped over countless bodies, and the screams followed them the whole way through the building. The boy had a lot of trouble walking and Mime Bomb had to help him as they tried to find a safe way out. The boy led him outside, and this was the first time Mime Bomb had seen daylight in years.

There was snow everywhere and it was so cold that it almost seemed to burn his skin, and the boy led him to a nearby truck covered in a tarp. Mime Bomb was lifted into the back of the truck, and then covered with blankets, before he was hidden by the tarp. Mime Bomb saw the boy speak with a man who then got in the truck, and that was the last time he saw the boy. The entire building collapsed as they were driving away, and the older boy was left standing in the road, watching them go.

The man driving was his uncle Dmitry, but Mime Bomb doesn't remember much about him other than the fact he looked a lot like his father. Dmitry was incredibly kind to him, and they traveled together for two days before reaching their destination. Mime Bomb had to stay hidden in the bed of the truck, hidden by the tarp so no one would see him.

Mime Bomb said when they finally arrived in a small town, the truck finally stopped at a large warehouse. The tarp was then pulled off him to reveal his father standing there. Mime Bomb's father had no idea where his son had been this whole time, and said he'd been searching for him for five years. He told him it wasn't safe for them to remain together since there were people who wanted the Volkovs dead. He said he would find a safe place to hide Mime Bomb and then come back for him later.

Dmitry went his own way, and Mime Bomb never saw him again.

They spent a month traveling together through Europe, and when they arrived in London, Mime Bomb was left at the school for the deaf. He waited for years for his father to come back for him, but he never did. Mime Bomb has no idea if his father or either of his uncles are even still alive. He's had no contact with any of them."

Zack raised his hands to his head and simply sat there, and Ivy gave him a tight hug.

"It's going to be okay, Zack," she assured him, "We're going to help Mime Bomb, I promise. We'll figure this out."

"Ivy, I left out the worst of the things. You have no idea what those sick and evil people did to him. When he found out what you were doing to Neal, it hit too close to home for him, and he couldn't handle it. We need to find these people and make them pay. I'm not letting them take Mime Bomb again."

"He's safe here, and we're not going to allow anyone to hurt him," Carmen promised, "We're going to find these people, and we'll make sure they're arrested for their crimes."

Chase looked incredibly worried. "If the original Volkov people were killed in the fire, then who killed Yu Yan and took my daughter?"

"Um, guys…" Player hesitantly said, "I really hate to interrupt but there's something that I just found that you need to see."

Carmen frowned but knew it must be something important for him to butt in like this. "What is it, Player?" she asked.

"Since the tv is broken, I'm going to send this to all of your coms," he replied, "You'll understand the second you see this."

Everyone pulled out their coms and stared at the screen as a video began playing. A shaky camera focused on someone and they immediately saw it was Michael Finnegan Jr. The very first thing Carmen noticed was a very recognizable tower in the background of the video.

"Yo, loyal viewers!" Michael said into the camera with a wide and cocky grin. "I know it's been a while since my last post, but I was in jail for like a month. Stole some shit, killed a bunch of people, you know, the usual. I was probably going to get life in prison."

He crossed his arms against his chest and tilted his head, clearly trying to look tough. "I got mad cred for getting in a few fights in that shithole, and I kicked all their asses because no one messes with a Finnegan! I even got a new prison tatt and it's pretty awesome. Some guy used a broken piece of glass to do it."

Michael held his hands towards the camera with a grin, proudly displaying the words 'YOUR DEAD' written across his knuckles.

"Uhh..." the cameraman said a bit hesitantly. "Mikey, I think that's spelt wrong…"

"What?!" Michael said in alarm, glancing at his hands. "No, it's not!"

"Yeah man, I think there's an 'e' in it."

"Shut up, Dustin, it's fine. You can spell it both ways." Michael snapped, turning his attention back to the camera.

"How am I standing here a free man, you wonder? Cause your man Mj is awesome, that's why! I escaped and killed like five people while I was at it! This boy right here, using his genius smarts, managed to spring himself! This is why you assholes all follow me, because you know the whole world is soon going to know my name!"

Michael dissolved into laughter, and he pulled out a handgun and brandished it towards the camera.

"My boss gave me this, and I'm gonna fuck up anyone who crosses me!" he vowed, cocking the gun. "I dare the police to even try to capture me! I'm gonna watch the whole world burn!"

Michael gave the finger to the camera and then stuck out his tongue, displaying a piercing. He waved the gun around wildly as he struck his best gangsta pose.

"I'm going to put a bullet into each and every-"

The gun suddenly went off and Michael let out a screech as the bullet hit him in the arm. He let out a stream of profanity as he clutched his arm in agony, practically doubling over from the pain.

"Uh...Mikey, should I stop recording?"

"Shut up, Dustin!" Michael screamed, holding his heavily bleeding arm.

After another minute of screaming profanity, Michael finally got himself under control enough to address the camera. He was pale and shaking, but obviously trying very hard to seem composed.

"Fuck it, I'm gonna post this anyway," he announced.

"Should...should we call you an ambulance?"

"Shut up, Dustin!" Michael snarled. "I'm fine!"

Michael then turned to the camera and pointed to his arm that was gushing blood.

"Yeah, you guys see this? That's how tough I am!" Michael bragged, "I just shot myself to show you how much of a man I am! I barely even felt it!"

There was suddenly the sound of sirens in the background.

"Mikey, I think the cops are coming…"

"Shit!" Michael cried out in a panic. "Cut the video, we need to get out of here!"

That's where the video ended and Carmen glanced around at the rest of her team.

"...Well, we now know where Michael Jr. is… That building in the background of the video is the Bayterek Tower located in Nur-Sultan, Kazakhstan."

"Wait, Michael Jr. escaped?!" Zack demanded, "And you're just mentioning this now?!"

"We didn't think it would be a good idea for Mime Bomb to find out his torturer was roaming about…" Carmen said hesitantly.

Zack didn't like the idea of hiding things from Mime Bomb, but considering his mental state at the moment, he also didn't think it was a good idea to bring it up.

"I'm telling him once he's calmed down," Zack stated, "I'm not going to betray his trust by hiding something this important from him."

Carmen gave him a nod. "Player? Any idea where Michael Jr. is hiding?"

"Yeah, Red, the video was uploaded from a warehouse on the edge of town. When I looked into it, it looks like V.I.L.E owns the building. I'm willing to bet that V.I.L.E were the ones to break him out, but for what purpose, I have no idea. The video was uploaded ten minutes ago and so you might be able to catch him before V.I.L.E moves him, if you leave immediately."

"Get him, Carm," Zack requested, "Please get him so I can tell Mime Bomb he doesn't have anything to worry about."

"We can't leave on a mission right now. Mime Bomb needs us, we have to worry about Neal, and we have to worry about Team Crackle."

"You go, and I'll stay with Mime Bomb," Zack told her.

"I'll stay too," Ivy stated, "I'm never letting Zack out of my sight again."

El Topo and Le Chèvre exchanged a look between themselves, knowing Le Chèvre's breathing was too bad to chance a plane trip. If he took an asthma attack in the air, there would be nothing they could do to help him.

"We will stay and keep an eye on Neal and the base," El Topo said.

"I'll stay to keep an eye on all of these morons," Tigress stated, "You guys have some fun and kick Michael Jr.'s ass."

"Player, can you arrange the plane to take us to Kazakhstan as soon as possible?"

"Already on it, Red. Can you be to the airport in an hour?"

Carmen felt really bad about leaving Mime Bomb after everything they'd just found out, but knew she didn't have a choice if she wanted any hope of bringing in Michael Jr.

"Yes, Player, book the plane, we're on our way."

Zack was worried about Mime Bomb, and after he'd bid the others goodbye, he headed for the bedroom, hoping the other boy was doing alright. It was getting late, and he hoped Mime Bomb had managed to fall asleep. Zack felt certain the other boy would feel better in the morning.

When he entered the bedroom, Zack saw Neal was sound asleep, limbs sprawled out in every direction. Tip-toeing across the dark bedroom, Zack peered down at Mime Bomb and saw the other boy was simply staring at the wall, expression completely blank. Zack frowned, wondering if a hug would help or hurt in this situation.

"Budge over," Zack ordered, "Neal's asleep, and I don't really want to share a bed with the greasy wonder."

Without looking at him, Mime Bomb edged over to make room, and Zack climbed into the bed, feeling even more worried.

"I told them everything," Zack said softly, "You won't have to talk about it to anyone if you don't want to. They understand now."

Mime Bomb still didn't move.

"Are you going to be alright?"

Zack was relieved when he received a nod.

"Do you need a hug?"

Mime Bomb shook his head.

"Carmen and a few of the others had to leave on an emergency mission, but they should be back in a few days. We can just stay and relax for a while."

He received another nod.

"Let's get some sleep, and we can figure out everything else tomorrow."

Zack let out a yawn, rolled over and was asleep within minutes. Neal cracked open an eye. Team Red was splitting up for a mission...this could be something Team Crackle could use to their advantage...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dr. Vess entered the room carrying his medical bag, and he glared down at the man sleeping in the bed nearby. Approaching, he set his bag down on the bed and then pulled the blanket off Siren. Rolling him onto his back, Vess knelt down beside him and looked him over with a frown. It was obvious Siren had skipped a few too many meals, the man painfully thin, and Vess knew he'd have to be a bit more diligent in making sure Siren actually ate throughout the day.

Vess checked Siren's eyes, observing the bi-colour irises with indifference. Siren had Sectoral Heterochromia and when Vess had first met him, he'd been fascinated to find out that Siren's brothers had the same defect. Although genetically very similar, Siren had a genius level intellect, whereas his brothers had the combined IQ of a turnip. Genetics had always been an interesting subject to him, and even now Vess enjoyed studying such things in his spare time.

Siren was still deeply asleep from the powerful sedative, and Vess planned on keeping it that way for at least a couple days. Opening his bag, he removed a few supplies and pulled one of Siren's arms towards himself. Disinfecting a patch of skin, Vess inserted an IV and then taped it into place. Pulling over the nearby IV stand, he hooked up a couple bags of saline with a powerful sedative, and then adjusted the flow into the IV.

A sudden knock at the door startled him, and Vess looked up with a frown. "Come in," he called out.

The door opened and a guard entered, carrying a tablet.

"What do you want?" Vess demanded irritably, "I'm busy right now."

"Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Vess, but Dr. Bellum wishes to speak to you."

Vess looked up as the guard turned the tablet around revealing Dr. Bellum's face on the screen. "Morning, Numa," she greeted, her expression looking suspiciously smug.

Vess was immediately wary. "...morning." he responded.

"Having problems with our resident song-bird?" she questioned, her gaze falling on Siren.

Vess rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. "There was another 'incident' yesterday afternoon," he explained, "He killed another guard."

Dr. Bellum hummed thoughtfully. "Well, at least it wasn't anybody important," she commented.

Vess knew she wasn't just calling for idle chitchat, and was suspicious. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" he questioned, "Was there something I could help you with?"

Bellum smirked in a way he didn't like, and she paused for a second before answering. "I just wanted to see your reaction to the video I'm about to send you."

Vess' brow furrowed, and then he heard his com ding as he received a message.

"Turn your volume on and click on that link," Bellum ordered.

Vess pulled his com out of his pocket and then turned his volume up high and hesitantly clicked on the link. The second he saw Michael Jr., his eyes widened when he saw the boy had given away his secret location.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Vess exclaimed angrily.

As the video went on, Vess cringed at the way Michael Jr was bragging about his misspelled tattoo and his jailbreak. The idiot was confessing to crimes on a public platform.

"I'm going to kill him," Vess muttered, unable to take his eyes off the video.

When the gun went off, Vess' eyes widened in shock, and he stared at all the blood and at the screaming boy with an angry frown. He then cringed even harder, knowing how much of a moron Michael Jr. truly was. He had hired that moron...

By the time the video was over, Vess was facepalming, feeling a migraine coming on.

Dr. Bellum was laughing and laughing, and Vess simply let out a groan, knowing he'd have to go make sure that idiot didn't bleed to death.

"You chose him, Numa," Bellum commented, clearly loving every moment of this.

Vess simply let out a groan.

"That idiot was denied entry into V.I.L.E academy, but yet YOU chose him anyway!"

Vess pinched the bridge of his nose. "...he's proven to be useful over the years...occasionally."

Dr. Bellum let out a snort of amusement. "I bet," she responded, "Well, he's your problem, and so you have to deal with this. The video has been posted for ten hours and so we have to assume Carmen Sandiego has already seen it. You need to keep those under you controlled, otherwise this is going to cause problems for V.I.L.E."

Vess let out a deep and aggravated sigh. "It will be dealt with," he assured her.

"Good. I've taken the liberty of booking a plane for you. Be to the airport within an hour."

Vess gave her a nod, and she gave one more snicker before the call ended. After the guard had left, Vess let out a loud and aggravated groan. Why did everybody in his life insist on making things difficult for him? He glared down at Siren, knowing he was going to have to get one of the other doctors to monitor him while he was gone.

Letting out a few colourful curses in arabic, Vess collected his medical bag and then headed for the door. Michael Jr. was about to face his full fury.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TBC