[Dec 13] [Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego] Just a Job to Do, ch 1

[rose-of-pollux.livejournal.com]

Title: Just a Job to Do; Chapter 1: No Use Saying it's Alright
Day/Theme: Dec 13; Your silhouette is still my reflection
Series: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego
Character: the Dying Informant and company
Rating: PG-13
Crossposted to my journal and another comm.


It was three in the morning at ACME Crimenet. The Techie was working by the light of his laptop on the desk, clad in his robe and pajamas. He was preparing for the trial of Celaenia Davis, close associate of Conrad Knuckle and daughter of Lysso Davis, the crooked cattle rancher who had been behind a high-tech cattle rustling operation. But the rustling operation had nothing to do with Celaenia’s trial; she was on trial for what she had done to the Informant.

The Techie sighed, running his hands through his brunet curls. Tears were coming to his eyes as the memories of his last birthday returned full force. It had been the worst birthday of his life… Heading home, eager to spend his birthday with his surrogate brother, only to find out that the Informant had drowned in the East River after being waylaid that morning.

But the boy had not been dead. Celaenia had waylaid him, injecting him with a serum by a Dr. Mendoza that put the Informant into a comatose state before throwing him into the water. By the time the Techie’s sixth sense had convinced him that something was terribly wrong, Carmen Sandiego had beaten him to finding the Informant. The Informant had spent five weeks in a cursed, haunted Home by the Sea, nearly going insane on top of being beaten up by Eartha Brute in an attempt to pump information from him.

The Techie could feel his blood boil. He was angry with everyone who had hurt the Informant. And to an extent, he was angry with himself for not being able to help the Informant sooner… not to mention that he hadn’t been able to arrest anyone other than Celaenia; Dr. Mendoza, who had masterminded the operation, was still running free—a faceless specter haunting and taunting the Techie. As long as he was free, the Techie would not rest.

“I’ll get you…” he vowed. “I will get you…”

A pained sigh from the top bunk brought the Techie back to reality. He glanced up, seeing the Informant curled up, clutching at the sheets of the bed as though in great pain. Sweat poured from the boy’s face.

“Oh, little brother…” the Techie said, softly, his heart twisting for his younger brother.

Even though the physical scars had healed, the Informant was by no means fully recovered from his ordeal. For the first couple of weeks after coming back, he had been prone to sudden breakdowns for no reason. Those were gone, though he would sometimes feel morose every once in a while. But the Informant kept visiting the horrors of the Home by the Sea in his dream. And it made the Techie sick at heart to know that he couldn’t help him.

“Little brother…” he said. “Can you hear me…?”

The Informant mumbled something, still clenching the bedsheets.

The Techie walked over to the bunk beds.

“Little brother, I’m right here for you…” he said, softly. “You’re safe now. Everything you’re seeing is just a nightmare.” He clenched his fist. “I know you’re hurting… It’s going to take a long time to bounce back from… from what you went through. A lesser man would’ve broken completely after experiencing what you did… But you didn’t break. You’re still here, and that proves how strong you are. You can beat these nightmares, just like you beat the real thing.” He sighed. “I know you say that you draw your strength from me and the others, but… I draw strength from you, too. You’re my little brother in spirit, and I feel terrible that I can’t help you through this…”

He trailed off, his voice cracking under the stress and strain of worry. The Techie had not gotten much sleep in the past several days; he had been pouring over the details in the case and going over what he was going to say at the trial. He had no choice—he was going to be the key witness against Celaenia. And he was not looking forward to reliving the events of his last birthday again. The only consolation was that after the trial was over and done, maybe they’d be able to but most of this behind them… Or, at the very least, he hoped that the Informant would be able to move on. The Techie doubted that he would be able to move on until he arrested all of the EMCA agents involved in the Home by the Sea case—and Mendoza was the one he wanted to see most behind bars. And with Celaenia saying that Mendoza had plans for the Techie, too, the Techie knew that he had to get Mendoza before Mendoza got him. But the fact that Mendoza was just an alias, and that the Techie didn’t even know what the creep looked like, hindered his efforts considerably. But he was not going to give up. He wasn’t doing this for himself—he was doing this for the Informant… to avenge his poor, beloved brother who meant so much to him. It was a way of helping make things right. The Informant would not want to relive his ordeal any more than he had to, so the Techie was fighting in his name. And this was a fight that he had to win. There was no room for failure.

“I’m going to get him, little brother…” he said, firmly, to his brother. “I’m going to put him behind bars and then this will behind you…” A tear fell from his eye. “You won’t have to live in fear anymore after that… And maybe then, the nightmares will stop, too. And if I can help you that way, it’ll mean everything in the world to me…”

The Informant let out another sigh in his sleep, relaxing slightly, as though he heard the Techie’s words somehow.

The Techie blinked, and a wan smile crossed his features.

“Sleep well, little brother…” he said. “Goodness knows you deserve it.”

He returned back to his desk, continuing to work on what he was going to say to the jury, as well as having his search engine looking up as much as he could on Dr. Mendoza. He shifted his attention between the two as the minutes ticked by.

“Where are you…?” he murmured to his unseen foe. “You’re hiding from me, aren’t you? You know I’m after you…” His eyes narrowed. “You can’t hide forever. You’re going to mess up eventually, and I’ll be there…”

The anger and rage was welling up inside him again, which was something that worried him. He had always told the Informant not to lose himself to anger, but he was in danger of doing that himself, as he had inadvertently done during the Phantom Riders case. But then, he hadn’t been in control of himself. He didn’t have that excuse now; no matter how angry he got with Mendoza, he could not lose himself. That was probably what Mendoza was hoping for…

…In fact, he probably wanted the Techie to have sleepless nights such as this.

With a sigh, the Techie decided to close up his laptop for the night; he had been at this for weeks, and recently pulled all-nighters a few times a week. He was noticeably tired during the day—something that the Informant and the others had noticed and had begun to express their worry about. If the Informant was even fully aware of how much the Techie was doing in preparation for the trial and for finding Mendoza, he would undoubtedly feel terrible, blaming himself as the reason why the Techie was going through all of this… And that was the last thing the Techie wanted. The Informant had suffered enough!

And that was why the Techie had not wanted to talk about his preparations for the trial. Informant had asked him once or twice, but the Techie avoided the subject, and the Informant certainly didn’t want to pursue it. And while the Techie did feel terrible about keeping so much information from his brother, he rationalized it as being for the Informant’s own good.

The Techie laid himself down on the bottom bunk, exhausted, but not feeling as though he’d be able to rest.

“Goodnight, Bro…” he mumbled, sinking into his pillow.

The Informant didn’t reply; he was now in a dreamless sleep… Not as good as a good dream, but better than the string of nightmares that the approaching trial was bringing back.

******************************

The Techie’s sleep, however, was not dreamless. He was running through the Lower Manhattan streets, the lights of the never-sleeping city illuminating a figure ahead, draped in a lab coat, a hat pulled down and obscuring the figure’s face.

“Catch me if you can, Agent…” the figure spoke in a distorted voice. “It’s too bad that the Dying Informant won’t be waiting for you when you return home.”

A chill ran down the Techie’s spine.

“Where is he…? What have you done to him!?” he demanded.

“I have taken him in as my newest… patient,” the figure purred, still running.

“Mendoza…” the Techie hissed. It only made sense that Mendoza would be represented in his dreams by an unknown figure.

“After his treatment is done, he will no longer be a sentimental, incompetent weakling…” Mendoza said. “He will be a cold, calculating weapon in the hands of EMCA.”

“No…” the Techie gasped. “I won’t let you! He’s forever loyal to ACME!”

The figure stopped suddenly, striking out with his arm and knocking the Techie to the concrete.

“He’s already agreed to undergo treatment,” the mad doctor said. “It didn’t take much convincing. All I had to do was show him what my creation of serums did to his—and your—most elusive enemy…”

He pointed into a side alley where a brown-haired woman in a red trenchcoat and fedora was propped against an old crate, barely conscious.

The Techie’s jaw dropped.

“Carmen…!?” he exclaimed, horrified. Never had he ever thought he’d see the infamous thief reduced to this…

The lady in red looked up, weakly, at the mention of her name.

“You…” she murmured. “You’re that Tech-Net agent…” She trailed off, flinching as she clutched at her hurt shoulder. “The Dying Informant is beyond your help or mine; this lunatic has pumped him full of mind-control serum…” She gritted her teeth. “As much as I wanted to convince him to join V.I.L.E., I never intended for him to be as cold as Mendoza is planning…”

“But… Mendoza said he used a serum on you…” the Techie said, horrified. “You seem to have overcome it…”

“Does it look like I’ve overcome anything…?” Carmen asked, coldly. “He used a different serum on me; it’s made me ill, and only he has the cure.” She trembled. “He said he was going to use this same serum on you unless the Dying Informant subjected himself to a different one.”

The Techie’s eyes widened in horror at Carmen’s words, but then burned with hatred as he turned back to Mendoza.

“You’d better tell me where he is…”

“He’s right here…” Mendoza said. The Techie couldn’t see the doctor’s face, but he was certain that the cruel man was smirking at him.

Footsteps further down the side alley made the Techie turn.

“Little brother…?” he whispered, seeing the unrecognizable figure step into the light.

The boy’s hair had been cut, highlighted with green, and gelled to a punk hairstyle, with matching punk makeup under his eyes. He was wearing a torn shirt and ripped jeans, and a large chain choker was placed around his neck.

“And to think, his treatment has only just begun…” Mendoza purred. “Oh, he will be a flawless specimen when I am through with him…”

“He was flawless before you turned him into this monstrosity!” the Techie cried, and he stepped forward, placing his hands on the Informant shoulders. “Little brother, it’s me… I know the real you still has to be in there somewhere, little brother. I know he can hear me…”

But the punk Informant regarded him with a look of disgust.

“I don’t have room for you in my life anymore…” he spat. “Go on home to your detective agency. My place is with the Doctor.”

The Techie stared in horror at the Informant for one full minute in utter silence. But after that, he snapped. He turned to glare at the cloaked Mendoza.

“Put him back!” he ordered, lunging at the creep and beginning to pummel him. “Put him back right now.”

Mendoza snarled, pushing the Techie away. He turned to the Informant.

“Get rid of this imbecile for me!” he ordered.

The Techie just yelled, kicked, and screamed as the Informant attempted to pull him away from Mendoza, but the older agent’s rage was too much. He gave a last kick to Mendoza, which knocked him to the ground.

The Informant now gave the Techie a crushing blow to the shoulder, and the Techie cried out as his surrogate brother began shaking him, violently.

“Little brother… please, wake up!” he pleaded. “Wake up and know me!”

“…Techie…?” The Informant’s voice seemed to be coming from far away.

“Little brother, please…!” the Techie cried. “I’ll give anything if it means that you’ll wake up!”

“…I am awake, Techie; you’re the one who’s dreaming…!”

“Wha…?” the Techie jerked awake. The Informant was shaking him in real life, but it was a gentle shake in order to get him to wake up. His younger brother still had his long, unruly blond hair, and no sign of punk attire in sight. The boy did have a wan smile on his face.

“You must’ve had a nightmare…” he said.

The Techie blinked, and then he smiled, relieved. “Yeah… I guess I did, didn’t I…?”

“Just one question, though…” the Informant went on. “Since when did you start sleeping in your day clothes?”

“What are you talking about…?” the Techie asked, confused. “I was wearing my pajamas when I…” He trailed off, glancing at himself. He was indeed wearing his usual day attire of pants, shirt, vest, and lab coat—and he even had his hat on. Getting out of the bed, he also discovered that he had his socks and shoes on, too. He stared for a moment.

“Well, I don’t know if it’ll ever catch on as the latest trend in sleepwear, but it is stylish…” the Informant mused. “And best of all, you’re all ready for the morning.”

The Techie gave a wan chuckle, trying to figure out the meaning of this.

Or maybe he was giving it too much thought. After all, between the lack of sleep and the stress of preparing for the trial, it was highly possible that he had been half-asleep when he had changed, and somehow fell back asleep on the bed instead of heading down.

Casting it aside, he moved to head downstairs now, but yelped as he fell over.

“What’s wrong…?” the Informant asked, helping him up.

“I’m not sure; my legs seem so stiff…” the Techie said, with a frown. He blinked as he moved to pull something skinny and green from his shoe. “Is this… seaweed?”

“How’d that get on your shoes…?” the boy asked, his eyebrows arched. “And why are your shoes damp?”

“Oh, I’ll bet someone’s playing a joke on me…” the Techie sighed, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach. “Trying to see how I’ll react to it…”

He tried to laugh, but ended up shivering instead. Suddenly, a feeling of foreboding had descended up on him as the image of the faceless figure from his dreams swam before his eyes for the briefest moment.

He gasped, startling the Informant.

“Techie… Are you alright…?”

The older agent glanced wordlessly at his younger brother. He wasn’t able to answer. And that worried him.