Summary: A minuscule injury with the potential to disrupt the entire dynamic.
Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.
Content Disclaimer: This story is not written from or for a child's perspective. Though both dark and light moments are present, if you don't wish to see cannon characters distressed, this is probably not for you.
The museum had Zack rather unsettled. It was usually dark. Furthermore, he was trying not to think about what he'd just read, what he'd just discovered. If he thought too long, Zack would end up speaking aloud and telling his sister. That was what he always did when trying to work out a problem.
However, the issue with that system in this instance was obvious.
So Zack didn't reveal what he'd noticed… what he knew about Carmen's choice of heist material. Instead, he watched as Carmen removed the painting from its protection and handed it off to her henchman.
Had her movements seemed to have a bit more… feeling… in them than usual? Furthermore, if Zack was as wrong as he so completely hoped, why had the henchman opened the security case instead of Carmen?
Then denial became untenable.
It was a tiny movement, the most imperceptible balance check when her heel hit the edge of the step, but it was enough for him.
Zack was sure now.
"Six steps." He said aloud, before he knew what he was doing.
Then Carmen got down them like an expert.
What else did one expect? This was Carmen Sandiego after all.
The blond ignored the very strange looks he was getting from his sister and observed Carmen as she began to run.
Carmen knew this museum… she had stolen from it countless times. So how on earth had she forgotten about those stairs?
No matter, there was nothing to do for it now but run. The mastermind knew where the helicopter was waiting, with a ladder lowered down through a skylight. Her escape depended on reaching it.
The henchmen have the artwork she knew or assumed. It's a simple matter to make an getaway. Carmen had done this a thousand times. She could do this with her eyes closed.
That used to be hyperbole, but the reality would have to suit. Just run, with nice even strides. Carmen had considered switching out of her heels, but it could affect the length of her steps and leave her even less likely to know where she was.
"Carmen duck!" She heard Zack's voice again. The thief obeyed without questioning, level changing without slowing down. She instinctively dropped into a martial arts slide and felt the plastic tape slip against her forehead. Had she stood any higher, Carmen calculated, the ribbon would have clotheslined her.
That was caution tape. Then where was the cause for its warning?
"You're clear, you're clear!" The benevolent voice shouted. "Run straight."
Heart racing, the blind felon obeyed.
Carmen felt the ladder and clutched it with both hands, as the helicopter started to rise.
Wordlessly, Carmen tossed the next clue in the general direction of the detectives. Had her sight been better, she would have realized that she'd missed completely with it.
However, as it was, the thing ricocheted off several buildings and out of grasp, before either Zack or Ivy had time to process it.
Unaware, Carmen focused on the height and the ladder.
This was a fine art, even when the eyes were cooperating. One can't just hang on to the rope. It inevitably ends with one looking like a ham on a hook. It's no small trick to seem elegant when getting hauled up into the air on a not particularly steady helicopter.
In fact, she rarely climbed the rope apparatus while actually in view of the detectives. It was far too undignified. Carmen preferred to just find a good pose and hold it. Most of the time that took a matter of seconds, but today she felt disorientated and couldn't quite feel the movement. So she ran herself through a mental checklist instead, with a stern internal dialog.
Well, it needed to be the same no matter what she had for eyes. Hook one foot through the ladder and back around, heel on the lower rung. Place the other foot one rung up, push the toe into the rope. Cheat out so you're facing the detectives… ok well where she thought the detectives were.
Carmen took a deep breath. The thief hadn't realized before how much she relied on her eyes to do this. After all, she hadn't thought she'd been staring at the ladder or anything, usually she looked off into the distance. However, her equilibrium felt incredibly disturbed. With the way the helicopter was lurching she could barely tell which way was up.
Moving on… get the arms asymmetrical, bend at the elbow so it doesn't look like there's any weight on them. Head goes back and chin goes up.
Next came the difficult part. With heart racing, Carmen asked herself if this was really necessary. However, with sprinting clarity she realized that it was indeed. Cutting corners inevitably led to failure. The master thief couldn't afford to set the precedent… especially if this excuse was… well that didn't bear thinking about.
Take one hand off the rope. Normally that felt easy and powerful but today everything seemed insecure and Carmen had an unreasonable urge to cling. However, it had to be done. The felon concentrated her mental power and pried her gloved hands from the rough rope.
Then, feeling the potential pose suddenly, Carmen abruptly turned her body, tightened her abs, and relaxed her legs, so that she suspected it did not appear that her weight was on anything at all.
Her free hand was gracefully out into the air and her toes pointed. It was perfect.
Until she slipped.
Suddenly, inexplicably, her left hand no longer had any contact with the treacherous whipping rope. The immediate sense of falling, fast and terrifying, whipped her in something close to a 180-degree turn, pointing her stilettos at the invisible sky.
As her undignified shriek cut off with a choked jerk, Carmen could hear the detectives scream, from what sounded like fatally far away.
Her only connection to anything but the breezy blackness was the cruel bit of the frayed rope behind her knee.
Smothered under cruel pulsing panic, Carmen tightened her knee about her only anchor and groped frantically for the ladder. Her desperate reaching hands caught nothing but the wind, repeatedly.
The thief shuddered convulsively and nearly lost what little remained of her balance as the helicopter lurched fitfully. She tried again for the ladder and missed, realizing with sinking dread that she must not be aiming for the right place.
"Carmen higher!" She heard the voice above the roar of the helicopter. It was Zack's. "The rung's farther up!"
She would have to overbalance to reach any farther, but Carmen trusted him.
Putting all her strength into one fraught movement, Carmen thrashed her body upward. As she moved her arms erratically, she felt the cord hit one and grabbed.
Carmen made no attempt at grand gestures this time. Instead, she hugged the ladder to her with all her strength.
Back on the ground, Zack and Ivy watched her fly away.
Ivy slowly, turned to Zack. "Let's get back to headquarters, little bro. Because you and I need to talk."