Chapter 9 ~ Scars of the Deep

A spattering of blinking lights pulsed in the night sky, a quiet whirring lost in the breeze. If ever there was an argument for the Cleaners being robots, it was their impressive ability to land a helicopter under the cover of darkness. Nassau had no shortage of landing pads – who wouldn't want to tour the island by helicopter? – but this one had been practically deserted by the time they arrived. The two Faculty members slipped into the shadows without incident, now walking along the vacant coast like wayward souls lost in the night.

Bellum glanced up as the final sign of their arrival flickered out into the distance. "I respect the need to cover our tracks, Professor, but I question the logistics of hiding an unlicensed helicopter."

"They know what they're doing, as do we," Maelstrom bit back, his mood foul. "This area is where our foes last spent their time. We must keep our eyes open for any clues they may have left."

"Do not be so certain, zanmi."

The pair turned towards the Haitian Creole accent. A designer-clad woman leaned against the counter of a beachside tiki bar, a tropical-green cocktail in one hand and a folded tanning reflector at her feet. The bathing beauty removed her sunglasses, pushing aside the brim of her hat to reveal a confident smile.

"Well, well. The tropics must agree with you." Bellum smiled back, genuine and pleasantly surprised. "It is good to see you back on your feet, Cleo."

"It is, isn't it?" She dropped the accent, carefully folding up the sunglasses and holding them out to her colleague. "Saira…"

Bellum took the glasses, holding them close to her phone. The devices paired instantly, flooding Bellum's phone with images of extensively detailed maps. "Eureka! However did you manage this?"

"You know full well there's no rest for the wicked." Cleo slipped from her bar stool. "I simply orchestrated our collision, then drew from my acting skills to mask me taking the photographs. The fool chalked me up to nothing more than an entitled local."

Maelstrom snatched the phone away from Bellum. "I will pass these images along to our young ship raider."

"Before you go about sharing intel I acquired for you—" Cleo took a forceful step towards him, meeting his cold eyes with fire. "—you might listen to what else I've learned."

He grit his teeth. "And that would be…?"

"These images won't be enough. At these depths, Revenant will need some sort of tracking equipment to have any hope of locating the chest. Doctor Ross suggested—"

"That really isn't any of your concern, now, is it? Did I not tell you I had made other arrangements for you?"

Cleo laughed – a single, involuntary laugh drawn from utter disbelief. "Unless you had some psychic ability to predict those vigilantes would flee here, your plan appears to have been to just dump me on some luxury island to shut me up. In other words, my only involvement in this caper has been one, measly coincidence!"

Bellum also stepped up, her small frame dwarfed by his imposing stature. "You were rather placid regarding Coach Brunt's arrest."

"Our fallen ninja was right to colour her emotional. Her boorishness served no purpose but to hinder my plan."

"Your plan?" Cleo swept Bellum aside with a lean yet sturdy arm, appointing the other woman as a mere spectator. "What happened to restoring our empire?"

"In due time, Countess."

"No! We have a right to know what's going on! If you didn't want our involvement, then why bother to break us ou—"

"Any common fool can plot their own escape!" Maelstrom barked in her face, his temper bared in full. "Only a true genius could achieve such a symphony of global chaos!"

"Don't flatter yourself, Gunnar." Cleo crossed her arms with scorn. "It wasn't enough for you to suggest making Sandiego a part of our faculty. You'd risk our necks on a fool's errand all so you can bolster your own superiority."

He chuckled spitefully. "How cretinous of you to pass such judgements, being that Carmen Sandiego would not exist if not for your inability to hold her father's attention."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Bellum could only gape in silent shock at such callousness. True, Maelstrom had always been… well, Maelstrom… but he never used to target his colleagues so openly. She turned to Cleo, half expecting some extravagant outburst. How long had they been friends now? Almost thirty years? She'd taken her Faculty seat only two years after Cleo had, stationed between the Countess and her rogue Wolf. Bellum refrained from questions to spare the woman's dignity, but she still possessed the sharp eye of any noteworthy scientist. She saw the secret smiles and sideways glances, just as she saw the current hurt in Cleo's face.

No outburst came. Instead, Cleo simply gathered her things, once more staring their colleague down. "You haven't won yet, Maelstrom. The girl's a nuisance, definitely, but she's also the best thief we ever trained."

"Meaning that I have intimate knowledge of her vulnerabilities."

"Good luck with that," Cleo sneered, walking away. "I'll be in my suite, when this goes south."

"Most unlikely."

"Alright, crew. Today's the day."

The ocean was choppy, cresting as small, white waves around the vessel. Spray hit their skin like the dense humid air, clinging tightly beneath their chins. Admittedly, this was more so for Zack and Ivy, the siblings being dressed in regular daywear while Carmen and Shadowsan had already changed into their wetsuits. It felt worse for Carmen, like Brunt's sweaty palm wrapped around her neck.

"I was able to narrow down Ross's search grid via satellite imaging of the area. It should help you navigate the channel, Zack."

"Approaching the drop-point now."

Zack cut through the swell with ease. They were only fifteen miles from Nassau's coast – slightly more from Andros Island – but open waters made it all the more daunting.

"Red, Shadowsan. I've recalibrated the scanners in your diving helmets to detect micro amounts of radioactivity similar to what we think the tiara has. Maximum scope is within a half-mile radius, so you'll need to pace yourselves."

Shadowsan fastened his gloves, subtly watching Carmen wrestle into her fins. "Then we should separate to cover more ground."

Ivy crossed the deck, their helmets balanced under her arm as she checked the gauges on their tanks. "Try to keep a slower breathing rate. It'll make your air supply last longer."

The boat shuddered to a stop as the engine powered down. It rocked uneasily, the only sound being that of the ocean jabbing at the hull.

"In position!" Zack called back from the helm. "You ready, Carm?"

All eyes (and ears) turned to Carmen. Her face was stoic as ever, completely unreadable besides a tight-lipped look of resolve. Shadowsan watched her closely for any small flinch or worry line, but none came. In fact, she seemed to border on total vacancy. This wasn't the girl he raised: his little kitsune who ran like a playful spirit leaving coloured embers in her wake. Her flame had dimmed, almost choked out entirely by some unspoken fear.

"Carmen…?"

"I'm fine." She clicked her helmet into place. "Let's do this."

Shadowsan could only watch – unable to muster a simple growl – as she rolled away, not waiting for his signal or any further debate. "Player—"

"I'll keep an eye on Red's scanner. You'd better follow her."

He gripped the side of the boat, hoisting himself up and rolling back into the waves. A curtain of tiny bubbles enveloped him as he made contact, slowly scattering to the surface, and he dove towards the darkened waters. Carmen's figure appeared in front of him, her crimson form already fading towards dull greys. They shared a brief nod in the dim light, then swam off in different directions.

Shadowsan kept a close eye on his gauges, mentally clocking each variable in their available time. Fortunately this section of ocean wasn't so deep to greatly restrain their search window, but the terrain posed an obvious disadvantage. The area was a maze of solid rock and towering seaweed; even with both their scanners pointed directly to the dark below, finding anything would be a challenge. He swam quietly on his designated path, sending up a silent prayer.

Carmen was just as focused, albeit on a completely different matter. She was so close, too close. She couldn't choke now. She'd seen the type of chests VILE used – heck, her first toy box was upcycled from one. Thick, water-tight storage containers fashioned from the highest-grade titanium money could buy. Picking the lock would take time, and she knew better than to open it underwater, so they'd have to raise it first. That took work, burned air. It wasted time.

Her leg jolted back, and she yelped. Something had her, gripping tightly around her ankle. She clawed through the darkness, her headlights falling on the offending tether.

"You okay, Red?"

"Stupid seaweed wrapped round my leg."

Carmen revved her jets. Nothing. Again, nothing. Each revolution caused the dark vine to tighten, only to slacken as it pulled her back. Air gushed from her boosters, sucking more and more foliage around her leg.

"Should I call Shadowsan?"

"It's fine. I'll get myself out."

She grabbed a loose vine and pulled herself down. The knotted rope of seaweed drifted in the current, fixed mainly around her fin and snaking up past her ankle.

Carmen whipped out her diving knife. She angled her headlights toward the mass, gripped it firmly as she hacked at the thick foliage. It fought against her, each cut strand floating into her line of vision. Dust particles flurried, and she clawed at the stringy greens like heads on a hydra.

"Watch your air supply, Red."

"Yeah, I know, Player!"

The needle seemed to plummet by the second. She could almost feel her tank depleting. Weed after weed fell away, but her chest only tightened. Was she breathing? Her lungs felt starved. Her head spun. Her muscles tensed.

The last tendril snapped.

"Carmen!?"

She burst through the sunlit zone, bobbing there for a moment. Blinding light peaked through building clouds like spotlights through a fog. Her manic swim to the surface was a literal dizzying blur, her body starting to shake as she reached to retract her face shield.

Zack and Ivy rushed to the rear of the boat.

"Carm!"

"What happened?"

Carmen sculled over, her elbows buckling as she dragged herself out of the water. "I'm fine! I just need my backup tank."

Shadowsan followed close behind, accepting Zack's offered hand as he climbed back onto the boat.

"Where is Carmen?"

They gazed across the deck to where Carmen stood shivering. She didn't look back, fishing blindly to disconnect her empty tank. It fell away as far as her forearms, the muscles jerking on impact, before she cast it aside with a heavy thud. Shadowsan sighed, placing his fins neatly beside those she had clearly abandoned without thought, and walked towards her.

Carmen hefted the second tank over her shoulder, shrugging it onto her back. "I'm heading back down there."

"You shall do no such thing." He flinched more than she did. Stubborn as always… "Not until you tell me what is wrong."

"Can't this wait?" she huffed, fastening the buckles around her torso. "VILE could be here any minute."

"My concern is not in VILE's whereabouts. Are you not aware that we may have the wrong location?"

"It's down there. If you want to stand here and speculate, be my guest. I'm doing this, with or without you."

Shadowsan caught her arm as she brushed past. "You are in no condition to put yourself at such risk. You need to—"

"What!? What do I need? To rest, to calm down? Every second I waste is a second longer my father gets to lounge in whatever undeserved grave ACME put him in and pat himself on the back for ruining my mother's life, and I won't stand for it!"

Shadowsan's hand fell. Zack and Ivy exchanged worried glances. The silence hung. Gravity itself seem to crash down on her as tears sprang to her eyes, but Carmen only stormed away. She got so far as the rear then stopped, removing her helmet as she dropped to her knees. Her hair unravelled in a heap against her back, limp and lifeless. She looked so worn in that moment. So tired. So broken…

Ivy nudged her brother. "We'll keep a lookout for VILE."

Zack nodded, and the pair retreated to the helm. Shadowsan watched them go before approaching his daughter, slowly kneeling in front of her.

"I'm sorry…" Carmen whimpered, tearful and childlike.

"You do not need to apologise. You have not undertaken a caper like this before."

"That's no excuse. You don't deserve…" She gestured to herself, "this."

He gently shushed her, running a hand through her hair. "My ego is not fragile, nor is my heart."

They sat in the silence, the boat rocking in the tide.

"I can't do this, Dad… There's miles of ocean down there and I can barely even think straight."

Shadowsan shook his head. He knew her better than that. The difficulty was no burden to her; she had always thrived on a suitable challenge. No, this was something else. He tilted her chin up, "Why does this matter so much to you?"

Carmen met his eyes, holding his gaze as if trying to find her answer there. He waited as she searched, likely turning over all manner of responses in her head, before she finally heaved out a deep, drawn-out exhale. "You remember my Tía Teresa, right?"

Shadowsan hummed, nodding in quiet response. He'd only met the woman on occasion; she was a long-time friend of Carlotta's and a type of surrogate aunt to Carmen. Their exchanges had been pleasant enough, more cordial than anything. Just enough for him to value her presence in their lives.

"She was the first friend Mom made in Argentina, and… she's the only one who ever met my father. I tried to ask Mom about him once, but she changed the subject. I'm guessing she must have told Teresa because shortly after that, Tía asked me to run an errand with her."

"I suppose that was a cover for something?"

Carmen nodded slowly. "She took me to this beautiful park outside the city and sat me on a bench beneath all of these old pink lapacho trees. She said she used to bring my mom there a lot. When she was sick…"

Shadowsan tensed. Carlotta's letter…

"Teresa had to leave town for a couple weeks that January and didn't trust my mom to tell her everything, so she had Mom's doctor put her down as an emergency contact. Sure enough, she got a phone call. Apparently she'd come running in, saying that I'd slipped under the water while she was bathing me. I was fine, but Mom…" Tears spilled over, and she struggled to form the words. "She was thin and pale, practically catatonic. Even when I was crying, she was barely there… Teresa came racing back and found my parents arguing again. She stayed hidden until my father left, and that's when she heard my mom pleading with him… 'don't leave me with her'."

The pieces fell into place, and his heart broke. "She had postpartum depression…"

Carmen ducked her head, but he clearly saw the creases around her eyes. She squeezed them shut, suspending tears that had long needed to be shed. How long had she suffered in silence? Since San Diego? That secret discussion beneath the lapachos? Or maybe a part of her had always known. Maybe, deep down, they both had known.

It all made sense now. Not just the letter or the fear for Carmen's safety, but the readiness with which Carlotta had forgiven him for separating them. How was she to care for a child if no one was there to care for her? And Carmen… If her immediate meltdown at Wolfe hiding her in a closet had not been a sign of separation anxiety, her first few weeks with VILE – the way she clung to Coach Brunt, and her outright refusal to sleep alone – were clear indicators of an infant in need of consistent parenting.

"The next time my father came back to town, Teresa was waiting for him. She told him he was a disgrace for not caring about Mom's health, and he basically laughed in her face." Her voice dripped with venom. "I really thought Tía was being dramatic. I mean, by her own admission, she despised him. But now…"

"Recent events have changed your opinion."

"That nanny you saw me with… It was Teresa's grandmother, Niñera Rosa. My father didn't know they were related, so they conspired to keep an eye on him while Mom received treatment. She was only in hospital for two weeks before…"

She didn't need to finish the sentence. Instead, Carmen reached for the duffle bag she'd tucked away. She drew something from the side pocket, opening her palm to reveal the broken locket.

"You know, it was Cleo who brought up my lineage when they offered me his seat. She and the others talked about him like he was the 'King of Thieves' or something. When I got my memories back, I wanted so badly to believe he was like you. That he'd been faking it all those years and that there was a good person underneath." Carmen snickered bitterly. "The only thing he faked was this photo. The background's from a landscape shot Mom took after Abuelo's funeral."

Shadowsan studied the photo. The small size did sell the illusion, but having seen the full image, the forgery was clear. Each detail was crisp; even the rooftops and window frames in the background were perfectly straight. Warm sunlight bathed the city-scape, yet somehow didn't wash it out despite the focus on the foreground. Likewise, father and daughter were devoid of shadows, lit from the front with precise staging. Of course it was doctored – even if Wolfe had a camera advanced enough to fully render each visual field, when would he have had the time to fly Carmen to Mexico and back? How had he missed that?

A sinking regret settled in his gut. It was so easy to see himself in The Wolf, or rather as a version of him: a soldier lost to his criminal career, a man changed by being a father. In any case, he had always felt the presence of a poorly concealed hole in the story he sold himself. Through his own doubts and insecurities, questions would orbit the outer regions of his consciousness. Where was Carmen's mother that night? If he so feared for his daughter's safety, then should she not have been in hiding with her mother to begin with? And how exactly had Wolfe failed to escape? For all intents and purposes, he and Carmen had defected without consequence (and with little more than the clothes on their backs) only running into trouble when they actively sought it. All the technology and trained operatives in VILE's arsenal had, for the most part, failed to track them down. And yet, even twenty years prior, Wolfe's plans had been thwarted before he even made it out. Why was that? Shadowsan could only sigh; he had not wished to think ill of the dead, but the proof was now undeniable – The Wolf's actions were indeed self-serving, just like his every other action had been.

"Carmen…" Shadowsan placed a hand on her shoulder, mentally shaking himself. "You are not accountable for your father's crimes, so you need not feel guilty on his behalf."

"It's not just his crimes. You saw what happened in Miami… I had Brunt breathing down my neck about being just like my father, and the first thing I did was let innocent civilians take the fall for me. The whole reason I left VILE in the first place was because of their willingness to harm people. How could I be so stupid?"

"That was not stupidity. It was desperation. I know that feeling all too well."

"Really?" She eyed him sceptically. "You were VILE's best operative. You could bring Coach Brunt to her knees! When have you ever been desperate?"

Shadowsan hesitated for a long moment, then gave a defeated sigh. "Vienna."

Carmen stilled, her expression stunned. "What?"

"I went back to VILE Island. I searched the globe for you and found nothing. For three weeks, I could do no more than pray for your safety." His voice strained a little, "When word broke of a caper in Vienna, I was so desperate to find you that I walked straight into ACME's path."

"You never told me that…"

"I know that you do not like to talk about that night, but it was nothing less than a miracle that I escaped in time to make it to the fairground."

Carmen winced at the memory, scooching closer to him and hugging her knees to her chest. "Okay, so maybe I'm not some heartless criminal… but my very conception was the result of him using her for intel. If I can't get the tiara back, then what's the point of even going home? How am I supposed to look Mom in the eyes again after all the pain I've caused her?"

Oh, the irony. "You were faultless in what happened. She knows that."

"I guess, but… It's just hard knowing she deserved so much better." She wiped her face with a gloved hand, smearing salt crystals over her flushed skin. "I was watching Chase and Jules on the boat yesterday. They're so sweet and wholesome, and I can't help but feel…"

Shadowsan steeled himself.

"My father may have left VILE for me, but he didn't love my mom. She could've had a good life with a good marriage. Someone who actually cared about her."

He had long ago made peace – albeit uneasy – with never having a wife or children to call him their own, and on no occasion had he dared to allow his mind such room to wander. Honestly though, if he indulged himself, he could picture it: a life in Argentina, with Christmas Eves spent in Carlotta's company. His heart swelled at the mere thought, but he would just as soon settle to know she was happy with someone else. (Surely Player would run a comprehensive background search on any prospective partners if he so requested.)

"There is still time for her to find those things."

"But how?" Carmen persisted, an almost defeated look in her eyes. "She's heard all that lovey-dovey stuff before. How's she supposed to trust someone again?"

To her surprise, Shadowsan smiled. His eyes creased in a way she vaguely recalled from her youth; it was a look reserved only for the scarce occasions when he tutored her. She felt like a child again under his gaze, as if perched at the foot of her bed, hearing stories of stars and jewelled spears. She felt safe.

"Carmen, the difference between real love and selfish desire cannot be overstated. To love with an honourable heart is to do so in measures until the bond matures. No score is kept of actions performed. No effort is made to spiritualise the connection. Such flattery weighs nothing without time spent to truly know the person you cherish. Do you understand?"

"I… think I'm starting to."

Shadowsan brushed a thumb along her cheek, clearing away the remaining tears, and Carmen fell into his arms for a hug.

"Thanks for being here…"

"I always will be…"

"To the end of the line."

Carmen chuckled a little at their simultaneous response. Strained as they may once have been, they had always mirrored each other. Always walked the line together. VILE's every attempt to sever their ties had only resulted in more, coiling together like the strongest rope. All the fine-thread promises of her youth had snapped at the first point of tension, her only "family" quickly becoming her most fear-inducing enemies. All except him; her protector, her confidant, her most loyal supporter, and her loving father.

She sat up and sniffled, finally touching her earring. "Player?"

His voice lilted over the intercom. "I'm here, Red. You doing okay?"

"I'm getting there, but we'll worry about me later. My grandfather's counting on us." She looked to Shadowsan once more, her smile returning. "Mamá is counting on us."

Shadowsan smiled back, nodding in agreement.

"Word of advice, Red, go back wherever you last were. You got a hit on your scanner while you were swimming to the surface."

"Thanks, Player." Carmen got back to her feet, helping Shadowsan up before retrieving her diving helmet. At the helm of the boat, the Bostonians shared enthusiastic looks as she addressed them. "Zack, Ivy, be ready to move. We've got a sunken treasure to find."

A/N: Hey all! Gosh, this took way longer than I planned for… 😅 The past eight months have honestly been manic, but I'm finally back on track. Thank you all for your patience and continued support.

Not gonna lie, this one was hard to write. I know a lot of writers joke about "torturing their characters", but it's hard to see our girl suffer like this. The good news is that we've passed the lowest low, so it's all uphill from here. And I have to say, I'm quite pleased with myself that no one made the connection with Cleo last chapter – I felt like I was being super obvious with it.

Anyway, enough rambling. Next chapter's set to be a big one, especially for any Devineaux fans out there… 😉

Translations:

zanmi = friends
Niñera = Nanny (technically it means 'babysitter' but I'm taking it as her preference, the way some women prefer Nana or Grammy)