Hey everyone,
I'm going to be honest. When it comes to the original of this story, I don't feel like I really gave Helena enough time to shine. Sure, I made her Murray's love interest – something he doesn't even have in canon – and a unique cane, but nothing more. So I'm going to make sure to really give her character some pow and some shine in this here chapter. This lady is going to prove her worth. As a member of the Fox family, a sister to Carmelita and a future Master Thief.
Let's have fun,

Venquine1990

Chapter 15
Helena Fox Means Business

24th of June 2007
Interpol Headquarters
Helena Fox's POV

It was hard enough coming to work earlier today as all I could think of was the things I found out the other day. I held onto the positive memories of how Sly treated Carmelita through the day to keep a firm hold on my temper, but it still almost snapped when I went to retrieve Carmelita's newest dose of paperwork. Barkley tried to look sympathetic, but my eyes are now open to him and his schemes and so I saw the glint of malicious glee shining in his eyes.
I tried to just vent my anger out on the paperwork without making it too obvious that I was angrier than I was supposed to be. This mostly because, while my colleagues know of my growing annoyance with my sister, they don't know what is actually going on up on Carmelita's floor. Luckily, my colleagues are used to me breaking a pen or two as I write and Barkley will probably expect a few holes in the paper as well.

Yet just as I feel my anger ebbing away, my communicator activates itself. And to my shocked surprise, I hear Bentley's nasally voice whispering from the device on my shoulder. "Helena. Come in, Helena. Are you private? If so, copy." I quickly shout: "Coffee break!" And while most of the security system in our office is just the worst, the electronics that are set to specific code words work fine. Thanks to this, the door closes as I shout.
I grab my communicator, which is basically an enhanced walkie-talkie, and state: "I copy, Bentley. I'm private and in my own office. I am halfway done with Barkley's paperwork. I'll be able to get Carmelita's ring in about an hour or so." Bentley replies: "That's good, because I have another job for you. And this one could both really ruin Barkley and save your sister tomorrow." Instantly the elder sister within me is on high alert.

"What do you mean?" I try not to growl as I don't want to let my anger, which is aimed at Barkley, out on Bentley and the turtle explains: "You remember what Carmelita told us about that guy Jason and that gall Liesbeth? Apparently that pachyderm is working a small field of spices; Klaww Gang spices. Michael and I overheard Barkley and he apparently managed to change the hypnotizing effects of those damned things.
He plans to have Jason put them in the pasta for tomorrow and to have him break into Carmelita's place tonight to steal all her food. Barkley wants to ensure that Carmelita takes the pasta tomorrow, so he can put her under the hypnotizing effects of those spices. You need to make sure you take those from his locker before he puts them in the pasta. But here's the problem. You can't let Jason or Barkley know that you took them."

My eyes are wide as I hear this, but then I suddenly spot something. Instantly my mind starts whirring and I whisper: "Bentley, the color of those spices? What was it? What was their color?" Bentley seems both confused and hopeful as he asks: "They were Bordeaux red, I think. Why? Got an idea?" I grin and mutter: "One of the oldest tricks in the book. The old switcheroo." Bentley hums and mutters: "That might just work. Replace the few spices that he plans to use for another plant."
But I grin and mutter: "Oh no, Bentley. I plan to do much more than that. Trust me, what I have planned will do three things all at once. Prove that I can be a successful Master Thief. Get back at Barkley and his dirty schemes. And help Michael when he and Interpol International come to arrest that dirty lot." Bentley seems hesitant and says: "Alright, but – please allow me to keep an eye on you through the security cameras.
Michael is working them too and he can even create fake images. If you need it, he can create a diversion for you somewhere in the building." This instantly makes me smile widely and I mutter: "Great. Tell him to create a diversion away from the cafeteria and the floors between that and Barkley's office in exactly one hour and ten minutes." Bentley gives me the affirmative and I put my communicator back in its position.

My mind is now strongly focused on the plan I have and this allows me to work a lot calmer. Yet suddenly my door opens and a female ant-eater walks in. "Ehh Helena, you called for coffee break, but you didn't get a coffee first. Is everything okay?" I nod at her and say: "Everything's fine, Lana. My mum just called and you know how she prefers to have privacy when she does. What with both our jobs being so people-focused and whatnot."
The ant-eater sighs in relief and says: "Of course, I forgot about that. Anyway, I got you a relaxing cup of Yin sing tea, seeing that you're on that horrid paperwork of your ungrateful sister again. Seriously, that girl puts you up with hours of writing and can't even bother picking it up herself? Who does she think she is anyway?" I suppress the need to defend my sister as I know that Lana has been my sounding board for the past few months.

Yet then I get an idea and ask: "Hey, have you read her article today? I think it's a good sign. My little sister might be coming round. Just give it a bit of time. You know most of her floor is giving her a hard time about her inability to catch Cooper, right?" Lana seems thoughtful about this and then she says: "No, I haven't read it yet. I didn't think you would either, to be honest." I shrug and the woman sets the plastic cup down as she mutters: "Huh, might give it a read."
And after she leaves and closes the door, I wait another minute or so and then whisper: "Bentley, is the coast clear? Are you the only one able to see into my office right now?" Bentley whispers the affirmative on this from my communicator and I open one of my drawers. I pull a pipette from my drawer as well as a foldable microscope. I quickly absorb a drop of the tea into the pipette and then onto a small glass platter.

I put the platter underneath the microscope and use it to analyze the drop as well as a few other drops, just to be sure. My microscope detects nothing but the tea itself, yet I don't feel entirely convinced, partially thanks to what Bentley told me about the spices. So I pull some other stuff from my drawer and use the research detection set that I got from papa a few days ago on the drops of tea that I already extracted. Finally I get the full evidence that the tea is just tea, nothing else.
I sigh in relief and Bentley mutters: "You and your family really need to get away from there asap." I nod in agreement to this and mutter: "I never imagined that I would be suspecting my own coworkers to try and poison me or be looking over my shoulder in a law-enforcement office. But at least – at least Carrie isn't here right now and I have my plan to focus on. Talk to you later, Bentley." The turtle affirms this and I go back to work.

Little over an hour later

I have the paperwork in my arms and my pockets are full of the red Elephants Ear plant leafs as well as the red Anthurium plant leafs. Bentley even managed to send me a picture of the trays that hold the little spice plants and I made sure to cut the leafs in a similar fashion. I would have put the leafs in my bag, but because I'm unsure of whether or not Barkley knows of my coffee break, I decide against giving him the idea that I am leaving on lunch break.
I breath in deeply as I stand in front of his office and breath out again as I enter. This makes it seem as if I am tired or something as I enter Barkley's office and the runt instantly picks up on this. And with sympathy that I can't believe I didn't notice to be fake before, he says: "Done already, huh Helena? I swear that sister of yours. Taking a weekend break and leaving you with all this." I give the badger a careless shrug and say:

"You pay me well for it, chief. That's all I care about." The badger seems pleased with this answer and he mutters: "At least one Fox knows her place." This would have made me shudder as I am sure that the badger meant some kind of innuendo with that statement. But because I need to keep him clueless about my knowledge on his actions, I just give him a short grin and head out. And as I head through the hallway, I lower my head just enough my fringe covers my eyes.
This allows me to look around and keep an eye out for people who might be staring at me without them knowing I notice this. I don't see anyone turning their heads to stare after me as I walk and this relieves some of the concerned tension in my body. I pass the unisex changing room and make a quick stop at the little water fountain next to it. And while I pretend to drink, I whisper: "Bentley, get Michael to distract those near my position. I need a small distraction."

"Coming up." Bentley whispers and a minute later, I hear a voice behind me shout: "Hey, what's going on with the elevator?" I smirk and while I wipe my mouth, a couple of the agents standing close rush for the other side of the hallway. I fake to rush after them, but then quickly dash into the changing rooms instead and close the door behind me. I watch their shadows pass the thick-glass window on the door and wait a minute after the last shadow passes.
"Okay Helena, that distraction will have won you six minutes at best. Do your worst. And just let me and Michael know when you need that other distraction." Bentley whispers in my ear as I now have my communicator hidden between my hair and the back of my ear. I whisper a quick word of gratitude and whisper: "Any idea what Carmelita's locker is?" About two minutes later Bentley whispers: "I asked Jason. It's #36 on the right of you."
I whisper another word of gratitude and he mutters: "The locker with the spices is #135 on the other side, in the far back to the left. The code to open it is 4-6-5-3." This really doesn't impress me and I mutter: "You can create a code out of these lockers that is up to 9 numbers long and he goes for something so simple. Seriously, what is Liesbeth seeing in this numbskull?" And while I head for locker #36, Bentley argues:

"Be glad that he's such a simpleton, Helena. That makes your job to retrieve those spices ten times easier, after all." I agree with him and yet then I ask: "So what's Carmelita's code?" Another minute silence and Bentley answers: "Her code is 7-7-7-7-5-5-5-9-9-9. Carmelita, why did you make that code so long?" Yet while he asks this, I giggle and mutter: "P, q, r, S. j, k, L. W, x, Y. Get it, Bentley?" And yet his silence proves that Bentley is shocked at what I just implied.
I quickly enter the code into the security system of the locker and open it. I spot the uniform and feel quite sure that Carmelita put some kind of security system on her badge. And Bentley confirms this as he tells me: "Carmelita just told me that the badge has a DNA checker, though she attuned it to Fox family DNA, not just her own. Just press your finger to the center of the badge and it should open, she wants me to tell you."

I nod and while I do as told, I can't help but ask: "How is my sis doing, Bentley? How far along is she when it comes to packing our stuff?" And Bentley proudly tells me: "She's already packed her own things and the stuff your parents wrote down. She's heading for Cheren's now, though she actually kept herself to the roofs while she travelled. She's really doing great. She even managed to create a reasonable excuse for visiting your parents' place while they were out."
I smile in pride at this while I pocket the ring my sister was given to protect when she was sixteen. And while my eyes shortly widen as I remember what the purpose behind the ring is, I change my focus onto my other task. I quickly relock the locker and ask: "Coast still clear, Bentley?" And Bentley has a bit of a laugh to his tone as he says: "Yep, those officers are much simpler souls than I gave them credit for."

I can already imagine what he means with this and shake my head with my eyes turned skywards. I quickly head for the other side of the changing room and over to the back of the room. I find the other locker that I need and easily dial the security number. I open the locker and bend down to where the trays are stacked on the floor of the locker. I pull my leafs and small branches from my pockets as well as the small set of tweezers that I took with me.
With the most extreme caution and all the care that Cheren taught me over the last few years, I gently pry the little spice plants from their dirt and leave holes big enough I can easily replace them for the plants I took with me. I know that my manner of work is taking longer than either Bentley or I would like, yet I draw courage from the fact that he has yet to warn me about the other officers approaching or anything of the sort.

Finally the last branch has been replaced and I have made sure to divide the spice plants over my pockets equally. I quickly make sure to lock the locker again and then head back to the door of the room. I take position to the left of it and ask: "How's the coast, Bentley?" To my relief, Bentley answers: "All clear. All the other officers have returned to their own offices. You're good to go, Helena." I smirk and whisper: "Tell Michael that it's show time."
And with a grin on my face and my plan in mind I leave the room and the floor. I head down two floors and yet I wait just around the corner of the staircase and the entrance to the cafeteria floor hallway. Yet instantly I hear Bentley say: "Helena, Michael's distraction is already in motion. Given what simple minds your colleagues have, I'd say you have about 30 minutes." I grin at this and mutter: "Great, I'll have this done in 20."

Yet as I head out, I also ask: "Michael even got the chefs to leave, right?" Bentley affirms this and asks: "What exactly are you planning?" And I simply answer: "To give them a taste of their own medicine. Every floor at Interpol has their own favorite in regards to the meals served here. Pastas are Carmelita's floor and sushi is mine. The Cafeteria does often make other meals besides the chosen floor meal, but it's a rare occurrence. And even then they don't start on those meals until all the chosen floor meals have been consumed."
"So wait, if that's the case –." I grin widely and mutter: "We can get the whole floor under its effects, except for Michael as he'll be working with International and Carmelita, who'll be safe with you guys. And considering it's her floor that gives her the most trouble and that this is the easiest way to get a confession out of that runt Barkley, I don't see why not. And don't worry, I know how many spices are needed for the pot of one chosen floor.
I made sure to fill my left pocket with the exact amount required for that. My right is still also full of spices and I'll happily deliver those to Michael tonight when I leave work." Bentley seems quiet for a moment and then he says: "Helena, I just want you to know that Sly and I are now really looking forward to working with you." I try not to snicker at this as I head inside the kitchen. And while I'm sure that Jason will focus on the pot with the meat and veggies, I head over to one of the cutting boards on the counters instead.

I work swiftly, yet precisely and cut all of the spices from my left pocket into dust like pieces. I take the cutting board and while I move it over to the large pot full of water, in which the spaghetti will soon be cooked, I ask: "Bentley, do you think the size of the spices will affect their affects? Like, the smaller we cut them, the less effective?" But Bentley answers: "No, they more than likely won't. Don't forget what Clock-La was planning with them.
To have the spices become thin enough to be spread through the air and all that. If those spices would have worked while in that size then I doubt cutting them up to any other size will matter." I nod and swiftly slide the cut up spices into the water. I twirl the spoon through the pot a few times to make sure that the spices get mixed with the water to such an extent that they are nigh invisible and mutter: "Alright, I'm heading back to my office. Consider this part mission complete."
"Eh, this part?" Bentley asks and I answer: "I still need to contact Cheren so he and I can keep Jason from mixing the plant leafs with the meat later today. Not to mention keep him from stealing Carmelita's food tonight. If he breaks into her place, he'll find the boxes and then Barkley might realize something's up." Bentley lets out a soft curse, but I smile and whisper: "Don't worry, Cheren and I got this."

A few hours later

I still don't really know how, but I managed to run into Cheren just after lunch. I had spotted him leaving the men's room and had pretended to use another water fountain. There had been a water cooler near my fountain and Cheren had tapped water from it while I told him about the situation. "Just leave it to me. I've got this one. You keep an eye on the kitchen, I'll work Jason." My brother had told me before he left, cup of water in hand.
It had taken me the rest of the afternoon, but by 4 o'clock I had gotten an idea. I had asked Bentley to secure my telephone and had made a quick call to a local bakery that is only two streets away. "Good afternoon, my name is Helena Fox. I'm calling in name of my sister, Carmelita, who plans to hold a celebratory dinner at Interpol France later this evening. Might I be able to order a dozen chocolate donuts and two dozen strawberry donuts with chocolate sprinkles, please?"
And then I had added the piece the resistance and muttered: "Just put it all on James Barkley's work account. I can give you his number, if you want." Yet luck had favored me as the bakery had told me that Barkley usually makes orders with them and that they already had the required information. "Great, please deliver the whole thing into the entrance hall of Interpol at 5 o'clock, if that's at all possible." And to my delight, they had given me the confirmation.

I am well aware that the whole officers and donuts thing is a cliché and a meme among society, yet I also know that a lot of those inside Interpol are guilty of keeping this whole cliché meme alive at the same time. I also bless my good luck as my office has a window and is positioned right above the main street that the building is next to. And because of this, I easily spot the large bakery van approach a few minutes before it arrives.
"Cheren, it's time. The distraction to keep Jason from the cafeteria is here." I tell my brother as Michael managed to make sure that our communicators are only linked to each other's and the ear communicators of the Cooper Gang. "Nice work, sis. That ought to go pretty dang nicely with my own little stunt. Now we just need to sit back, wait and enjoy the fireworks." I grin at this and mutter: "Meet you downstairs?""See you in five."

I quickly pack my things and use my closed office door to change into the shirt and jeans I entered the building in this morning. I head down and because I work a few floors higher than Cheren, he's already there when I arrive. The bakery has also already arrived and, to my amusement, is on the verge of getting into an argument with Barkley. Cheren winks at me and mutters: "Watch and learn." Before he heads over and shouts:
"Okay, okay, okay already. Geez boss, I know you want to surprise Carrie, but don't you think you're laying it on a little thick here? I get it, you don't want Carmelita to accidentally see the van, so you want the baker to come back later for his payment, right? Then just say so before she gets here. Or before that reporter that met her at Urmila's boutique gets here." I suppress a snort with effort and slam my hand on top of my muzzle to keep it shut.

Barkley stares at Cheren for a moment, but then the baker says: "Wait, seriously? Well, why didn't Inspector Fox's sister say so?" Yet before I can come over to do some damage control, the man gives a two-fingered salute to Barkley and says: "I'll be back first thing tomorrow when I do my daily shift. Take a picture of her shocked face, will you boss?" And while I really want to take a picture of the badger's shocked mug, the baker turns and leaves.
Naturally the man leaves the nine boxes full of donuts near the door, yet I smirk as I wait for the perfect moment. And about ten minutes later it happens. "Dang it, only strawberry and chocolate donuts? Why not just regular ones? Those are the best!" Jason complains and I already made sure to stand close to him while talking with Cheren. I turn to the elephant and ask: "But Jason, wouldn't you prefer a nice romantic dinner with your girlfriend over some donuts?
I'm sure my – ugh – sister won't mind one or two guests not being here. And I heard Liesbeth complaining that she misses her favorite Greek restaurant down by the Eifel Tower. Just think of it, Jason. Spending the anniversary weekend in which our city was saved from hateful destruction atop the most famous and romantic landmark of our whole country. You'll get rewarded for sure." And while I can barely even imagine an elephant and a lizard together, Jason starts to grin.

"Great idea, Helena. You did this on purpose, didn't you? You cheeky little minx! Oy, Lissie, what do you say to dinner for two, huh? You and me to the Greek near the Eifel Tower?" Liesbeth does look startled and her scales turn a soft hue of red thanks to how loud Jason is screaming. But she also squeals when she hears what he says and she exclaims: "Really Jason? Oh, that would be so romantic. Thank you, honey, thank you!"
And before Barkley can utter more than two words of confused protest, the Elephant is carrying his girlfriend out of the office building. Cheren and I are working our hardest not to burst out laughing at the ridiculous look on his face and I feel a deep sense of satisfaction as he lets out a shout of rage and storms out of the room. "What would you bet he tries to break into her house himself?" Cheren whispers and I reply: "You here on your bike?" My brother nods.

Well done, you two.
Talk about devious. Talk about sneaky. Talk about hilarious brilliance! I had so much BLOODY fun writing these scenes. Don't get me wrong, I don't intent to make all of Interpol look like – well, inbred idiots or Crabbe and Goyle from Harry Potter, really. I just want to emphasize what an affect Barkley's character and being have on the quality of talent Interpol has to offer. And speaking of talent, our most talented Miss Fox is up next.
Enjoy,

Venquine1990