Waking up in an unfamiliar place after being drugged is, in Nate's opinion, sufficiently bad for most days. But being in said situation and then finding out that his captor looks vaguely like a female Zorro (Zorrina?), except dressed in scarlet instead of black? That just brings the weirdness to a whole new level.
The lingering fogginess in Nate's head makes him groan as he strains fruitlessly against the ropes that tie him to a hard wooden chair, which- he might add- is an extremely uncomfortable hard wooden chair at that. Clearly, though, whoever had tied him up knew what they were doing. The knots are very secure, and when he realizes he's making no progress toward loosening them he allows his head to flop backward and sighs as he gazes toward the ceiling.
The last thing he remembered before blacking out was that he was meeting up with a contact in Milan about a potential lead on finding the Irish Crown Jewels. Then out of nowhere, some sort of smoke bomb landed right in front of him and wham!- here he is. Tied up in some god-forsaken, dingy concrete room in who-knows-where, while a lady all dressed up in a red hat and trench coat sizes him up. Far above, a louvered vent lets in a beam of sunlight that filters down through the murky interior, casting the scene in a rather dramatic chiaroscuro light. Nate's captor, clearly enjoying the style and flair that this provides, paces in front of him with all the poise of a jungle cat eyeing its prey.
Pausing suddenly, the tall, crimson-clad woman places her hands on her hips and faces him with a smirk. Her wide-brimmed hat slants downward over her face, casting one eye in nearly complete shadow, while the other one sparkles an lively- yet icy- Prussian blue as it looks out at him from under a perfectly arched brow. "Handsome devil, you are," she purrs seductively. "The pictures really don't do you justice."
Nate scoffs defiantly. "Yeah, that's what they said when I was auditioning to become a model," he snarks. "Despite my ruggedly good looks, I'm not very photogenic. Tragically, it cost me the job." He shrugs as best he can while still being tied up. "Becoming a treasure hunter was my fallback option."
His response seems to please her, making her dangerous smile widen. "Mmmm, cool under pressure, too!" Reaching out with one elegant and gloved hand, she traces a slender finger along his stubbly jawline. "I've always liked that in a man..." she adds in a low, husky tone.
Nate's Adam's apple bobs. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he says, "Look- this isn't the first time I've been tied up to a chair. But for these situations I do demand to at least be on a first-name basis. It's in the contract- right below the line specifying 'mango' as the safe word."
The woman folds her arms, considering his request with amusement. "You can call me Carmen," she says easily, turning her back to him and flipping her brown hair over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist. "Carmen Sandiego."
Nate's expression contorts as he stares dubiously at her back. "That's... gotta be a fake name, right?"
Zorrin- er, Carmen- casts a careless look at him over her shoulder. "This from the man who claims to be the direct descendant of an explorer who had no heirs," she drawls idly.
Nate frowns at her. "How do you know who I am?"
Carmen pauses for a moment and then spins on her heel toward him, the motion causing her scarlet trench coat to flare out. "I'm a thief, Nathan," she says, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I've always found it prudent to stay informed on the competition."
Nate growls. It's a frustratingly vague answer. "So let me guess: you want me to tell you what I know about the Crown Jewels, then you'll kill me and take off after them. Is that right?" he says with a scowl.
A low, sultry chuckle escapes her carmine lips, and Sandiego stoops to put her face close to Nate's. "Now, now- nothing so uncouth as all that. Besides," she says in a casual aside, "I already know everything I need to about the Crown Jewels. No, in fact- I'm going to leave you a hint," her eyes gleam conspiratorially. "That way you can follow me when you get yourself free." She gestures carelessly to the ropes that hold him.
Nate's brows furrow in confusion, and he suddenly realizes that he's been staring intensely at her mouth. "Wh- what?" he stammers, tearing his gaze away to look her in the eye. "Why?"
But Carmen's already turned away. "Why?" She laughs, and with a glimmer of a smile and a twinkle of her brilliant eyes as she looks back, she coos, "For the fun of it, of course!" With that, her slim, graceful fingers drop two items at Nate's feet: a knife, and a folded piece of paper. "I think you should be able to make do with that, given enough time." She opens the room's only door and pauses in the entryway. "Bye-bye, Nathan. Don't be a stranger!" she calls coyly, and in a vermilion flash she is gone.