"So, let me make sure I have all of this straight." Sly fidgets with the fur of his chin as he recounts the names and descriptions she gave him - a habit she only noticed after they started spending more time together. "There's Ramírez, the head guy, a smart and intense and presumably very handsome fox-"

"Sly."

"Hugo the vulture was flying you there, in a helicopter you were sharing with Miguel the trigger-happy lizard, Edixon the nerdy otter, and Rosa, a local crocodile whose job description so far seems to just be 'Rosa'. Is that all right?"

"Yes. You're forgetting their informant, Francisco the hummingbird, but… we'll get to him."

"Sure, sure." He doesn't notice her tone, caught on something else instead. "I gotta say… in my experience, cops either go for overwhelming numbers of low-level numbskulls, or the occasional smart, intense, and most breathtakingly beautiful senior officer…"

"Uh huh," she deadpans, though part of her does enjoy how he still flirts with her the way he did when they first met.

"The idea of a small, talented team of police seems weirdly rare, is what I'm saying. It certainly worked out for me and the guys, so how come it's not done more often?"

"Forming task forces is a perfectly common practice." Carmelita doesn't like that answer, and how stale it feels. But she wants everything to remain in context. "Someone like El Diablo can't be handled by an individual person. And if you throw waves of rookies at him, you're just going to waste people's lives."

"Exactly. A team with different talents is the only way to solve most problems, in my very unbiased opinion. So how come I've never heard of these guys?"

Carmelita dodges the question. But, by continuing her story, she also very much does not.

Interpol operated the quietest helicopters available on current technology. Whether disguising their presence from criminal targets, or simply respecting the noise pollution ordinances of a busy city, Carmelita knew that once the doors close, you could usually carry on a civilised conversation. At minimum, you could hear yourself think.

Hugo's old bird reminded her that all that was an outlier.

Carmelita was not a chatty person, but even she could appreciate the chance to talk with a fascinating group of fellow officers. This was an opportunity to compare notes, to gather information, to simply learn more about the people around her… or it had been, before those thundering rotors had drowned out any other sound.

Instead, she folded herself into a corner, not letting herself take up too much space. There was a small window by her head, offering her a limited view of the jungle below.

In decades past, this had been the site of a fairly prosperous gold mine. Sure enough, she could see a smattering of buildings through the trees, more than one would normally expect of such a remote location. Survivors of what had once been a frontier mining community. Then the mine ran its course, and the population that had grown around it ebbed away again.

In theory, at least. Rather that start a mining operation from scratch - not even a man of his influence could simply make gold appear - El Diablo had resurrected the mine, squeezing it hard for anything that might remain. That meant digging irresponsibly deep where the earth had already been weakened.

Ironically, the damage was perfectly visible from above. As Hugo brought them closer, Carmelita could soon see the unique beauty of the Amazon giving way to more and more upturned soil. These scars coalesced into a wide, gnarled nexus carved into the ground below. Even from so high up, it was easy for her to make out activity. Bodies.

The helicopter may not have been all that impressive, but the pilot was clearly talented. The way Hugo closed in on the mine and lowered them into a landing was almost what she could call 'smooth'.

They set down in an empty patch of dirt just a few dozen metres from the mine entrance. Miguel was throwing open the door before the vehicle had come to a full stop, a flagrant violation of aerospace safety protocols which, worse, looked well-practised. Carmelita glared at him and he didn't notice.

"Good work, Hugo!" called Ramírez, once the motors had slowed to a point which left his words audible. "Is everyone ready?"

The rest of the team offered their assent. Carmelita didn't raise any objections. If nothing else, she was eager to get her boots back on solid ground.

She was the last out, emerging from her seat in the far corner once the others were clear. Ramírez helped her out. Hugo had opened his own door, turned away from the controls to get some open air, and she didn't fail to notice the grin he was aiming at them.

"Alright, people." The group's attention, including hers, snapped smartly back to Ramírez the moment he started speaking. She envied how easily command seemed to come to him. "The miners are already giving us funny looks, though the fact that's all they're doing is a good start."

Miguel muttered something Carmelita didn't catch, nor especially care to. No doubt something very manly.

"I want everyone to stay alert for anything we can use, big or small. We may have to piece our case together from a series of smaller details, instead of one smoking gun. Best case scenario, we see El Diablo himself, though personally I don't think we'll get quite that lucky." He cast his eyes around. "Constable Fox, are you familiar with his two primary lieutenants at this time?"

"Hector the white-bellied spider monkey, who co-ordinates the minor gang members," she said, easily recalling the file, "and Rafael the crocodile, in charge of… equipment. Are either of them supposed to be here?"

"At least one. Keep your eyes out for either of them. If we could make an arrest like that, we'd be dealing a serious blow to the entire operation."

Something about what he had just said caused Edixon, Hugo, and even Miguel to pause, all three officers casting an unthinking glance to Rosa, whose gaze was aimed firmly at the ground. Had Carmelita been a more experienced agent, she would have given this more thought. Instead, she was still thinking about Miguel opening the helicopter door too early, and still aiming a fruitless glare in his direction.

"That's what I like about you as a storyteller: you're too honest for embellishment. Too focused on the facts to ever make yourself look good. That's a rare trait in a person, you know."

"Yes, you're not the first one to tell me that. Even my official reports would sometimes be sent back for an overabundance of detail my superiors thought revealed too much. I felt the need to mention how many times I got lost while chasing you, for instance, and Barkley specifically told me that I was making myself look foolish."

"Well, don't mind him," smiles Sly. "The world deserves to hear that kind of thing in full detail."

"Strangely, though, he didn't object to how I included detailed descriptions of every time you fell off a roof. Or started running the wrong direction. Or that when time in Canada where I had to help you after you stepped directly into a-"

"There's," he says, suddenly, "such a thing as being too honest, Carmelita. …Let's get back to your story."

Ramírez made an attempt to speak to the workers to determine who was in charge. Miraculously, no-one was; the mine was functioning with no owner, or manager, or so much as a single team leader. Individuals who gave Carmelita the impression of being far more used to ink and paper than rocks and dust were suddenly just as much humble miners as the rest of the crowd.

She watched Ramírez work, unable to hide her disdain. "I'm appalled at how many people are here… El Diablo may have reopened this mine, but he'd be making no money from it if no-one chose to work here. Don't they know better?"

"It's not about knowing better."

Carmelita turned at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. For the first time, Edixon was speaking.

"This has never been a wealthy country." His eyes weren't on her as he spoke. Instead, he was watching the bustle of the local workers, their shoulders heavy with dirtied equipment. "If I was being honest, I'm not sure it ever will be, either. But people will always try to make a living. What makes El Diablo so powerful is that he's found a place on the global supply chain that gets him overseas money from one end…"

He indicated, with a large paw, the crowd of people all trying to avoid their gaze.

"…and desperate, compliant workers from the other." Edixon's face and voice seemed impassive, but Carmelita suspected these were still waters over a deep current. "I'm sure he's very pleased with himself."

"Not after today he won't be." Miguel spoke quietly. It was clear he was still angry, but Carmelita could see it was aimed in the right direction. That was a feeling she knew well.

"Hugo." Ramírez turned to address the vulture, still half-perched in the helicopter's cockpit. "Keep an eye on things here, would you?"

"Much obliged, Capitan. You remembered I don't love enclosed spaces. And you pretend so hard not to care."

"Just don't want you complaining on the way home. Not when you're the only one we can hear in that thing."

With a final laugh, Hugo settled himself more comfortably in his seat and left the rest of them to it.

Carmelita drew close to Ramírez. "Five of us going into the mine, and just one staying outside? Are you sure you don't want to assign another person to keep watch with Hugo?"

"Why? He can handle himself just fine, I assure you. Our focus needs to be on this mine."

She bit back any further comments, reminding herself that Ramírez had more experience. As hard as she had studied, leadership was something that she knew was still beyond her, so she trusted his judgement.

In fact, she thought she fell into line quite nicely. Standing amid them all - Miguel, Edixon, Rosa, and herself, all united behind their commander - there was a sense that they truly mattered. That nothing waiting for them was beyond their shared abilities.

Carmelita would remember that feeling for the rest of her life. For better or worse.

They walked together to the main entrance, Ramírez leading them to a collection of helmets stacked unevenly in a trough. It took a few minutes to source the wildly different sizes they needed. Already, Carmelita was having serious doubts about how well this mine could be run, and said as much.

"Agreed," said Ramírez, inspecting a helmet for cracks before committing to it. "Not a promising start. But we're here to get firm evidence of corruption, and to do that, we're going to need to examine the mine itself."

Something was nagging at Carmelita. She was no expert, but she felt there must have been a way to gather what they needed without braving the dark depths yawning out before them. Rosa must have noticed the unspoken question on her face.

"We're following a lead from Francisco!" she whispered, getting her own large helmet into place. The flashlight on it was as big as anything Carmelita could hold in her hand. "He told us that we'll find exactly what we're looking for deep in the mine itself. And he'd know - he's gotten really deep into the operation here!"

For reasons she couldn't articulate, this didn't feel like a sufficient answer for Carmelita. But Rosa was smiling at her so widely, and the rest of the team was evidently satisfied. Without anything specific to point to in Interpol's rulebook, she didn't have enough basis to raise an objection. So she didn't. She was here as an observer.

She was about to observe, alright.

"Well, that's ominous."

"…"

"Sorry. I can cool it with the commentary, if you want."

"Don't worry, you're fine. It's just… you're right, that's all. This next part is going to be hard to revisit."

"Do you want to call it there?"

"No," says Carmelita. "I don't want to pretend like this didn't happen. You know I'm not that kind of person."

"Oh, of course. It's just… I might regret asking you about a previous adventure, huh?"

"Depends very much on your definition of 'adventure'. Sorry I don't have something more, I don't know, breezy."

"Well, I don't know what I expected, when you put it that way. You've always been a lot scarier than me…" He finds a smile. "Please, continue with your scary story."

"Alright. I will."

They stayed close as they descended into the mine. Ramírez, as ever, led the way. The ceilings were tight, especially for Rosa and Edixon. Only Miguel strode forward with his usual gait, seemingly revelling in how his shorter stature was an advantage.

"Have that camera ready, Rosa." Ramírez kept his eyes sharp, scanning everyone and everything they passed. "If El Diablo appears in person, we can't miss him."

"Sure thing!"

"'If'?" Carmelita picked her way over the uneven floor. "I thought your informant said he'd be here. But you seem uncertain."

"As I said, it's taken a lot of effort to get this far. I don't want to get anyone's hopes up…"

"Nah, I'm with Little Miss Interpol," said Miguel. "Franky's been working this case for who knows how long now. Is this the big day or not, José?"

Ramírez didn't reply immediately. His gaze was intent, but Carmelita could have sworn that, for a moment, he was looking beyond the mine itself, trying to make out something else - something less solid but just as vital. When he finally spoke, it was as though his voice was coming from very far away. "It'll be today. It has to be."

His tone gave Carmelita pause. But Miguel just shrugged his scaly shoulders. "Eh! That'll have to do…"

She found himself sharing the sentiment, albeit warily. This team knew what they were doing. She had to trust in that.

Deeper and deeper they went.

There were more miners closer to the surface. The further they got from sunlight, the more the mine split into a labyrinthine mess of winding tunnels. The only indication these weren't empty were the echoes of far-off workers, the sounds of mundane activities twisted into strange, unearthly noises after bouncing off the walls countless times. It was unnerving, even for a team on a mission.

Not as unnerving as the lack of progress, though.

Carmelita was the one to break the silence. She had a role to play after all: the outsider who asked the questions the others hesitated to. "Would he really be so deep underground?"

"That's what Franscisco said," replied Ramírez, though for the first time a sense of doubt crept into his tone.

"And can I clarify what, exactly, he told you? Because to be frank, nothing about El Diablo's file indicates that he would oversee an operation like this so personally."

She was braced for another comment from Miguel. But the whole team was quiet.

They got quieter still when Ramírez came to a stop.

The air felt heavy - and not just with the unsafe particles common to a mine. Not just with the knowledge that an untold amount of rock hung above their heads, between their current position and the untainted air up above.

"We should go," said Ramírez. "We should go, now. Quickly."

There was nothing authoritative in his voice. He sounded lost. But that only made his team obey him all the more quickly.

In seconds, Carmelita found herself struggling to keep up. Miguel pulled ahead, moving with a speed surprising for his size, with Ramírez and Edixon right behind him. Rosa huffed along next to Carmelita, her footsteps uncertain in the dark, nervously gripping the camera around her neck. "Wh… what's going on?"

Carmelita kept her eyes forward. She didn't want to meet Rosa's terrified gaze. "Seems like we've-"

She didn't get to finish that sentence.

The explosion that followed was beyond hearing. It was like it bypassed her ears entirely and went straight for her skeleton instead. Carmelita was always sure-footed, but even she had her limits, and in an instant her balance was gone. She collided with a wooden pillar, trying desperately to keep track of the others, but already the darkness was closing in from all sides.

The last thing she saw was Rosa's wide eyes, meeting her gaze with utter panic.

Then the light vanished.