Pirates in Tom's Cove (Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, Dying Informant; Blame)
Title: Pirates in Tom's Cove
Author: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Claim: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (The Dying Informant)
Table: General #11
Prompt: Blame
Rating: PG13
Summary: After returning the wild ponies that Patty stole from Chincoteague Island, the agents see a boat pull up onto the shore in the dark of night. They investigate, only to find that they should've left before they got involved with Bandit Keith and the Rare Hunters.
Warnings: Seriousness/angst in a lighthearted fandom
Will be cross-posted to my journal, other comms, and the V.I.L.E. Headquarters fanfic forum.
Author's Note: this fic was partly inspired by an RP mini-series with Lucky Ladybug where ACME clashed with the Rare Hunters from Yu-Gi-Oh. This fic fits in my grand timeline, meaning that it takes place after Atem has returned to the spirit world. I borrowed a plot idea from the Yu-Gi-Oh: Reshef of Destruction video game where Bandit Keith takes over the Rare Hunters, hoping to get revenge on Marik. As always, the charaters aren't mine, and the story is! Thanks to Lucky Ladybug and Sean for plot help!
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“Hey, guys…” said the Techie. “Can I get a little help here…?”
The Messenger stood with folded arms as he watched the wild ponies all gather around the Techie, nuzzling him.
“Sorry, but I think you’re on your own for this one…” he said, taking a picture of the amusing scene.
“Hey, come on; this was funny for the first fifteen minutes,” said the Techie. “But this animal magnetism thing is starting to lose its charm.”
“Not from where we’re standing, Buddy,” said the Informant, grinning.
“They’re just trying to thank you…” the Inspector mused.
It hadn’t been too long ago that ACME had recovered the wild ponies of Chincoteague from Patty Larceny. The four agents had been assigned to bring them back home. But for some unexplainable reason, the ponies had taken a liking to the Techie, and it wasn’t just them; the Techie had been followed by herons, egrets, seagulls, and even crabs ever since they set foot on the island, all of the animals fawning over him.
“Did you guys plan this!?” he asked as he fled from the fauna.
The others shook their heads, trying to keep straight faces.
Eventually, the wild ponies decided to return to their own business as the agents retreated to Tom’s Cove. There was an expense of beach, along which they had an ACME helicopter waiting to take them back.
“Now, then…” said the Informant. “You’re going to have to explain to your new friends that they can’t come back with us. There just isn’t room in that tiny helicopter…” He trailed off as he looked out into the ocean. “What’s that little light out there?”
“Looks like a small boat…” said the Inspector, his eyes narrowing.
“But the docks aren’t here…” said the Informant, trying to get a better look. “Hey, the light just went out! Are they trying to land here without lights!?”
“Well, there is a lighthouse,” said the Messenger, glancing behind them at the Assateauge Lighthouse, which was just visible over the horizon.
The Techie frowned.
“They’d be crazy!” he said. “They’ll run aground! Why would they want to land here, at night, without lights!?”
The Informant’s eyes narrowed.
“Maybe because they don’t want anyone to know they’re here.”
“Why would someone not want anyone else to know they were arriving on the shore?” asked the Techie, frowning. “What kind of person would want that…?”
The Messenger’s eyes widened.
“Pirates!” he exclaimed. “And I know the best way to check!”
“How?” asked the young agent, intrigued.
“Simple. You climb on board and announce loudly that the rum is gone. If you get a loud reaction, chances are pretty good that you’re dealing with pirates.”
The others gave him unreadable glances.
“Someone’s been watching too many movies…” the Inspector deadpanned.
“Well, there’s another way to find out,” said the Informant, smirking. “We sneak onboard-quietly-and look around for stolen property. That is a more accurate method of testing for pirates.”
“Not as dramatic, though…” the Messenger answered.
The agents waited for the boat to pull as close as it could towards the shore. That was when they realized that the craft had wheels on it. The boat pulled up to the beach, and though the agents waited for someone to exit the boat, no one did.
“I wonder if they’ve figured out a way to maneuver that thing on land with those wheels… Guess that makes it easy to transport,” said the Techie. “Pretty ingenious, actually…”
“Bet Jack Sparrow would’ve loved to have wheels on the Black Pearl,” said the Messenger, with another smirk. “Come on; let’s go check it out.”
They waded out to the side of the boat, the Techie managing to fasten a grappling hook to the side of the ship. He climbed aboard first, looking around.
“Any rum?” the Messenger asked.
The Techie suppressed a laugh.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said, as the Informant clambered aboard. The others soon followed. “In fact, I don’t think there’s anyone here. I can’t hear a sound.”
“Maybe it’s deserted?” asked the Informant, looking around.
“Then how do you explain the light we saw on this boat going off?” asked the Inspector.
“Maybe they were forced to abandon ship, and they left their lights on?” asked the Messenger. “And as the boat was drifting here, the power ran out?”
“I don’t know if it can be that simple…” said the Inspector, looking around. He had a feeling that there was more to this picture than met the eye.
“Well, why don’t we just split up and take a look around?” the Informant asked. “We can keep our communication lines open, so we can let each other know if we find anything suspicious…”
“Or any rum,” the Messenger cracked.
“You and your rum…” the Techie said, amused, but he went on his way, heading down the nearest staircase that led to the storage holds.
“I’ll check out the control room…” said the Informant, heading that way.
“I’ll check out the other rooms,” said the Inspector, heading down another set of stairs.
“And I’ll check out the kitchen,” the Messenger replied, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he took yet another set of stairs.
The Techie in the meantime, was looking over the holds. There seemed to be an assortment of things: old vases, pottery, some jewelry… and boxes and boxes of what looked like the weirdest card game the brunet had ever seen.
“I don’t know who these people are, but they’re a weird bunch,” he said into his communicator. “I’d like to say the might be smugglers, but…”
“But what?” asked the Informant, discovering the door to the control room locked. With an annoyed sigh, he attempted to pick it open with a wire.
“I’ve never seen smugglers take more care in securing trading cards than Ming vases and Egyptian regalia,” he said, looking them over. “Oh, you know what? These look like the cards those kids were using in Domino City…” He opened the next hold. “Well, this is… even weirder…”
“What?” asked the Techie, finally getting the door of the control room opened.
“The last few holds are all full of antiques, money, and trading cards,” said the Techie. “This one is full of magic equipment.”
“I’ve got it!” said the Messenger, hearing the transmission. “They’re Magician Pirates!” He smirked as he opened the cabinets. “Who drink gin instead of rum, apparently…” he added, as he glanced at the contents.
The Inspector frowned.
“Just be on your guard,” he said.
“Right,” said the Messenger. It sounded like his mouth was full of food.
“What did you find…?” asked the Informant, as he suppressed a smirk. But then he frowned. The controls seemed to be run on autopilot. Part of the power system was on; if the boat had been abandoned, it had been instructed to shut its lights off and wheel itself onto the shore. And that didn’t make any sense…
“Someone left a pizza out here,” the Messenger said. “Still warm, too…”
“Then whoever made it must’ve left it not too long ago,” said Inspector.
“I think you’re right,” said the Informant. “The controls seemed to have been last adjusted about a half an hour ago.
“But there’s no one here!” said the Techie, as he searched through the magic equipment. “A half an hour ago, the boat was still pretty close to the shore. We would’ve seen someone jumping ship!”
The Messenger mumbled something with a full mouth, but the young discerned the words “ghost ship.”
“I doubt ghosts would leave that pizza there for you, in spite of your semi-legendary appetite…” the boy replied.
The Techie shook his head. When those two went at it with their banter, they’d go on for hours, trying to outwit the other into silence… or until it escalated into a raucous Chase (they had, on one occasion, brought a piece of plaster down on the Chief’s desk; needless to say, she hadn’t been pleased to discover it there the next morning). But it was all in good fun… And more often than once, the Recruiting Officer had brought popcorn while he watched.
There was an odd-looking, life-size mannequin in the back of the room, standing motionless. It was adorned in a punk getup, and a deck of those same trading cards sat in a pouch on the mannequin’s belt.
“Weird…” the Techie repeated, with a shake of his head. He began rummaging through some of the magic boxes, seeing if there was anything inside.
That was when he heard the creaking of the floor behind him.
He turned to see the mannequin walking towards him, glaring at him with sunken eyes. It was a person!?
The Techie cried out as the person dealt him a knockout punch without saying a word.
And now the other three froze.
“Techie…?” the Inspector asked.
“Techie, are you alright!?” asked the Messenger.
“What happened!?” asked the Informant.
But the Techie did not reply, and the Informant was the first to tear down the staircase and into the hold.
The Messenger was coming from the galley and yelped as the living mannequin ran past him without saying a word.
“What happened?” asked the Inspector, arriving to see the look on his face.
“Some creepy little guy just ran past me…” he said, with a shake of his head. “Infy, did you find him?!”
“No…!” the boy answered, looking around at the magic equipment. “I found his communicator, but that’s all…”
“Techie!?” the Messenger called.
The Inspector looked around the room. His intuition of the ship not being deserted had been right; perhaps there were more people on board.
“Techie, where are you!?” the Informant cried. “Answer me!”
“Infy…?” the Messenger said, grabbing the boy’s shoulder as he looked in the back of the room.
The Informant followed his gaze; the older agent was looking at some sort of oblong box. It was one of those saw-them-in-two boxes, the boy realized. He sneered at it; he never did like those things…
And apparently the Messenger didn’t, either; he was still gripping the younger agent’s shoulders.
“Yes, I saw the box,” the boy said. “I’m not a fan of it, either--”
“No, Infy…” said the older agent. “Look… Look harder…”
“Bro, I really don’t see anyth--”
He stopped as he noticed the familiar pair of shoes sticking out from the legholes of the box.
“No…” he whispered. “They couldn’t… They wouldn’t have!” he cried, trying to free the rest of the box from the clutter it was under.
The Inspector paled, he and the Messenger helping to shift the clutter as well. The box was long, and the Techie was too short to have both his head and feet outside it; at the other hole in the box, his hair was just visible.
“Techie!” cried the boy. “TECHIE!?”
He opened the box, seeing the unconscious Techie locked inside the shackles. It was part of the illusion, he knew; shackling the person into the box and then proceeding to pretend to saw it in half… But whoever had done this… had he been intending to pretend this time, too?
One of the weird trading card was resting on the Techie’s chest, the Informant picked it up, and it was attached to a note.
“These locks are electronically sealed. I thank you to leave my new assistant alone. I’ll let you know when it’s time for his big moment in my next show; I’m sure you won’t want to miss it. And not a word to anyone, or you might hear from us to discover that your friend… went to pieces.”
The card that had been attached to the note showed a robed mage, and had “The Dark Magician” printed on the top.
“Techie…” the Informant gasped, dropping the card and the note to the floor. They had to get him out of here! They had to!
“Techie, wake up…” pleaded the Messenger. “Come on…”
“We need to get him out of here,” said the Inspector, looking around the hold uneasily. “Take the whole box and come on.”
“But--”
“Listen to me,” said the Inspector, urgency evident in his voice. “They wanted us to find him like this; they’re coming. We can take him back to ACME; the other techies can free him from the electronic locks. Everything else can wait.”
The Techie groaned, beginning to come to. His eyes opened, and he glanced at his friends with a puzzled expression.
“Guys?” he asked. “What happened…?” He tried to get up, but fell back into the box as the locks on his wrists and ankles prevented him from moving. “What’s going on!?” he cried, beginning to panic. “Guys… Get me out of here!”
“We will,” the Inspector vowed. He turned to the others. “Take the box with us and let’s go.”
“I would advise that you leave him exactly where he is,” a new voice said, just as they were getting into position to move the box. The agents turned to see a man in a three-piece suit, top hat, and a mask.
“You should take care to listen to my note,” he said, with a shake of his head.
“Who are you!?” hissed the Informant. “What do you want with our friend?!”
“Your friend was snooping around my magic equipment far too much for my liking,” the man hissed. “No one touches the equipment of the Great Arkana without paying the price. Since he was so interested in my act, well… Now he gets to be a part of it!”
The Techie paled, realizing where he was.
“Let him go!” snarled the boy, making a move to run at the man.
“Ah-ah-ah…” he chided, causing the Informant to stop. “I’m afraid this won’t do. Master Keith hates trespassers as much as I do.”
“Keith…?” asked the Messenger, frowning. “Not ‘Bandit’ Keith Howard, the card shark and current leader of the Rare Hunters?”
“So you’ve heard of me?” a new voice asked, belonging to a tall man. His hair was hidden beneath a bandanna.
“There’s a profile on you in the ACME files,” the Inspector informed him. “Apparently, you’re under investigation for a few cases of kidnapping, larceny, extortion--”
“ACME…” Keith muttered. “I might’ve known. You do-gooders are all alike…” He snapped his fingers, and several of his henchmen filled the hold, including the creepy mannequin-man. “Escort these three… guests to my office. I’ll be having a little chat with them later.”
“Techie’s coming with us,” said the Informant, placing his hand on his precious friend’s wrist.
“I’m afraid not,” Keith smirked. “You see, Arkana needs to practice his act.” The card shark chuckled as the expression of fear filled the Techie’s face. “Now get moving-quietly. You wouldn’t want any… distractions to ruin the outcome of Arkana’s rehearsal, now would you?”
That convinced the Inspector and the Messenger to go quietly under the escort of several Rare Hunters, but the Informant was refusing to budge from the Techie’s side.
“I’m not going; I’m staying with Techie,” he stated.
Keith gave an exasperated sigh.
“Lumis, Umbra… Escort our friend to my office, won’t you?”
“Do as he says,” the Techie whispered. “You’re going to get hurt.”
“Me!? You’re the one who’s trapped here in this stupid box…” the Informant trailed off as he was seized by Lumis and Umbra. “Let me go; you can’t do this!” He struggled vainly as he was dragged away. “Techie! TECHIE!”
The Techie could only tremble, praying for his friends’ safety, as well as his own as soon only he and Arkana were left in the hold.
************************
“I’m warning you right now,” said the Informant, glaring daggers at Bandit Keith. “If any one of your flunkies touches so much as a hair on the Techie’s head--”
“What can you do about it?” asked Keith, smirking. “You’re my prisoner, Kid.”
“Look, we don’t know anything,” said the Messenger. “We were just returning the wild ponies that Patty Larceny stole, and when we saw your boat, we thought we should check and see what was going on.”
“What he’s trying to say is that it was just a matter of poor timing,” the Inspector deadpanned.
“Well, that’s not my problem,” said the card shark. “You should keep you noses out of other peoples’ business.”
“Oh, will you shut up!?” the Informant snapped, uncharacteristically livid. “All I want is my friend back!” He clenched a fist. “And I want him back now.”
Keith merely smirked. It would be entertaining to keep pushing this kid’s buttons.
“Lumis, Umbra… Take the other two gentlemen to the next room. Have Strings keep an eye on them. I’ll deal with them after I’ve finished with this one here.”
“No, you won’t take them, too!” the Informant protested. He moved to help the others, but Bandit Keith seized him by the trenchcoat collar.
“What are you doing!?” the Informant hissed. “What do you want from me?”
Keith merely smirked. Just as ACME had heard of him, he had heard tale of the odd Dying Informant, who seemed to have more lives than Super Mario. Someone so resilient would make a good Rare Hunter. And by controlling the fates of his friends, the boy would undoubtedly submit.
“I want you to learn a lesson,” he replied. “You ACME agents always end up sticking your noses where they don’t belong. V.I.L.E. might not be able to stop you, but you aren’t dealing with V.I.L.E. anymore. The Rare Hunters don’t fall as easily. Nor do we let potential members slip through our grasp.”
The Informant glared at him again.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. “We’ll never join you!”
“I don’t need all of you,” Keith replied. “I’ll be satisfied with having ACME’s top Informant as a Rare Hunter. Think about it… An indestructible man is a valuable asset to any organization. That could be the only reason why ACME bothers keeping you around.”
The boy paled. No, that couldn’t be it… He was a good agent who did his work well; that alone was why he was held with great admiration at ACME!
“So how about it, Kid? You about ready to trade in that trenchcoat for a violet robe?”
The young agent’s eyes narrowed.
“Never,” he declared, aiming a punch at Keith’s jaw. While the card shark was stunned, the Informant immediately fled, trying to find his friends. Where were they? And what had happened to the Techie? Was he still back in the hold!? He had to get there before Arkana did anything!
Meanwhile, Strings was standing guard in the room where the others were. Strings and the Inspector were locked in an unending deadpan staring contest, each waiting for the other one to blink.
The Messenger had busied himself with poking around the room; Strings hadn’t said a word objecting to it. Actually, he hadn’t said a word at all.
“Hey, what’s this…?” asked the Messenger, picking up a wallet in a dresser. “‘Aurus Kayser’…? Hey, wasn’t he that kid from Vulsor Hall who tried to warn me about the banshee?”
“I think so,” said the Inspector, not looking away from the staring contest.
“Then that means that the kid is a Rare Hunter!” he exclaimed.
“Sad…” the Inspector agreed.
“Hey, and there’s a girl’s picture in here… She looks familiar; I think she’s that girl we ran into in Domino… What was her name again…? Coffeé?”
“Try Téa,” the other agent replied, unable to roll his eyes at the present moment.
“Oh, yeah… I knew it was something along those lines…” mused the Messenger, looking back at the staring contest. “So if you win this thing, will he let us go?”
“I don’t know; he didn’t say a thing,” the Inspector replied, not blinking.
“Great, we can take that as a yes!” said the Messenger. “Now, to get him to lose the game…” He pondered for a minute, and then pretended to seem fixated on something behind Strings. “Oh, look, the rum is gone!”
Strings didn’t budge.
“Okaaaaay…” sighed the agent. “You know what? These Rare Hunters are notorious for not playing fair.”
“And your point is…?” asked the Inspector.
“Turnabout is fair play!” said the Messenger, charging at Strings.
“Hold it!” the Inspector ordered, causing him to freeze in place. “I think we need a different approach.”
“Good idea,” the other replied. “But what can--?”
The Inspector froze now, glancing behind Strings.
“Bandit Keith…” he muttered.
The Messenger whirled around, but there was no one there. But now Strings looked, and the Inspector took advantage of his distracted state to shove him into a closet.
“I win,” he declared.
“Glad to see you’re thinking along the same lines as me,” the Messenger grinned.
“I guess that’s the price I have to pay for hanging around you too much…”
“You say that as though it were a bad thing…” he replied.
“I think the world has its hands full with one of you,” the Inspector explained. “I’m sure that the Informant would also agree that we don’t need to find another you.”
“Oh, no… Infy…” gasped the Messenger, recalling that he was with Keith. “He’d better be okay…” He broke into a run, calling for him and the Techie as the Inspector ran right behind him.
The Informant, in the meantime, was tearing towards the hold.
“Techie!” he cried. “I’m here…” He trailed off. Arkana wasn’t in the room. “Techie? Techie, are you in here? Are you alright…? Say something!”
He walked to the back of the hold, trying to find the box. And that was when he found it. The box was in two pieces, a velvet sheet thrown over each half.
“NOOOOOO!” the horrified scream erupted from his lips.
He did not know that this was a different box. The Techie was still in one piece, but had been moved to a different hold, a handkerchief gagging his mouth. His heart twisted as the boy’s agonized scream carried through the metal walls of the hold. He had seen what Arkana had done; he knew that it was all a ploy to mess with his mind. He had heard Keith’s transmission to Arkana, instructing him to make it seem as though he had been sawn in half. And the Techie was both sickened and livid; he wanted nothing more than to rush to his cherished friend’s side and reassure him that everything was fine.
But it wasn’t fine. His air supply in the hold was limited. And no one other than Arkana knew that he was in here. If the Informant were to find out that he, the Techie, had escaped the cutting, only to suffer this fate… The Techie cringed at the thought of how devastated the boy would become. He would never recover if that happened.
A new fire coursed through the Techie. He would not let it happen. His fingers were able to move slightly… just enough to reach into his pocket and retrieve his handheld. Unable to look, he was relying on the feel of the keypad to try to hack through the electronic locks. He would have to succeed; two lives were depending on the outcome.
But he did not know that the Informant was already losing himself to the maddening grief and anger. The boy unleashed another cry that rent both the air and the Techie’s heart. He heard the boy storm past the hold he was him, and he frantically let out a series of muffled yells and cries, but the Informant was in too much of a rage to hear them.
More determined than ever, the Techie continued trying to free himself. The Messenger and the Inspector, in the meantime, heard the boy’s yells and were running to follow him.
By this time, Arkana had heard them, too, and approached the Informant, smirking.
“That’s what happens when you refuse Bandit Keith’s orders--”
The Informant cut him off with a strike.
“I won’t forgive you. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to Techie,” he hissed. “He was innocent. Everyone loved him; even the animals loved him. And look what you did to him!” He screamed in rage and struck back again like a man possessed, and now Arkana was actually afraid of him.
“Wait… Wait…” pleaded the magician. “Let me explain… Your friend isn’t really--”
“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” the boy screamed.
“Just stop… please… Let me talk--”
“You didn’t let him talk!” he retorted. “You didn’t give him any mercy when he was begging for it! You didn’t care!” His eyes burned dangerously. “I’m not letting you talk now!” He struck again.
And the Techie could hear every word and every strike. He was utterly horrified. What had the Informant- the sweet, happy, fun-loving Informant-become!?
The Inspector and the Messenger arrived in time to see the Informant pummeling Arkana.
“Infy, no! Stop!”
“Get a hold of yourself!”
And when he did not, the other agents resorted to restraining him.
“Let me go!” he howled. “He can’t get away with what he did to Techie!”
“Come on,” said the Inspector, firmly. “We’re better than them. We don’t stoop to their level.”
“Infy, what’s happened to you…?” asked the Messenger, horrified at the realization that something terrible had happened to the Techie. But now… they had lost the Informant, too. And they had to bring him back before he was lost to them for good.
“I can’t!” the boy cried, still trying to pull away, not even listening. “I can’t sit by knowing what he did!”
“You have to get a hold of yourself,” said the Inspector. “Techie wouldn’t want this.”
“He most certainly wouldn’t…” a weak voice agreed.
All heads turned to see the Techie stumbling towards them. He was swaying as he clutched at the wall just to remain standing, but his eyes were seeking out the Informant, staring at his younger friend with a devastated expression.
“Look at you…” he whispered, hobbling over to embrace him. “What have I done to you…? What have I put you through? I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
The Informant just stared, too stunned to move.
“Techie… you’re alive… you’re alive…” He couldn’t believe it… His precious friend had returned to him. “You came back…”
“I never left,” the Techie replied. “They had me in a different room; I just managed to escape... But what about you? Have you come back?”
“I…” the Informant trailed off, realizing the meaning of his words. He had lost control of himself, becoming something he had never even thought possible.
Arkana was seizing the opportunity to retreat, nursing his bruises as he backed into Bandit Keith.
“What’s the matter, Kid?” Keith sneered. “The fight gone out of you? But never mind; I’ve seen what I needed to see. You have what it takes to become a Rare Hunter. All you need to do is lose these idiots.”
“I’ll never join you!” the boy retorted, pulling from the Techie’s embrace as he whirled around to face Keith. He was going rigid again, his eyes beginning to spark in fury… Keith was the one who had ordered Arkana to attack…
“Not this…” said the Techie, weakly. “No…”
The Messenger and the Inspector each grabbed one of the boy’s arms again.
“Infy, don’t listen to him.”
“Don’t lose sight of who you are.”
“And who is he?” asked Keith. “He’s just some accident-prone kid whose talents are wasted in that little runt of a detective agency. In your hands, he’s worthless. But in the hands of the Rare Hunters… He can be greater than you could ever imagine.”
“TAKE IT BACK!” the Informant yelled. His muscles strained against the hold of his two friends.
“No!” pleaded the Techie, hobbling in front of him to face him. He was still weak, and was supporting himself on the Informant’s shoulders. “This isn’t you. So where is he?” He blinked back a tear. “Where’s my best friend?”
“And my little brother?” asked the Messenger.
The Informant glanced, horrified, at Keith’s sneering face, and then to the Inspector and the Messenger, and then the Techie, who looked absolutely crushed. The Techie was blaming himself for driving the boy to this… If only he had been more vigilant, it would not have happened…
“You can’t go back to them,” Keith said. “You’re not one of them anymore… Not that you ever really were.”
“It’s not true!” the Techie cried, hugging him again. And now the others were hugging him, too.
“You’re always been one of us,” said the Messenger. “You know I always tried to show you that.”
“And we want our true friend back,” said the Inspector.
“You’re not getting him back,” said Keith. “The Rare Hunters have laid their claim.”
“Too bad!” the Messenger retorted.
He and the Inspector sprang into action, helping the others get past Keith. Rare Hunters were swarming around them, trying to stop them, but they had gotten enough of a headstart.
“We’ll never catch them, Master Keith…” said a green-haired Rare Hunter. “What do we do?”
“For now, nothing,” the card shark replied. “But when the time is right, we’ll round up all of our… unwilling members.” He picked up the picture of Téa that the Messenger had dropped in the struggle.
********************************
The agents successfully made it to their helicopter, calling the coast guard to alert them to the Rare Hunters. Some time later, as they neared New York, they received notification that the Rare Hunters had escaped, though some of the stolen artifacts were recovered from the boat.
“It’s weird,” said the officer. “They took a bunch of cards and a few Egyptian artifacts, but they left most of the other artifacts behind.”
“Well, ‘weird’ pretty much sums them up,” the Messenger replied. “Well, that… and ‘sadistic’…” He glanced at everyone else. The poor Techie had fallen asleep, and the Informant was staring blankly out the window while the Inspector tried, in vain, to get him to talk.
When they arrived, the Techie was admitted to the infirmary. He wasn’t too badly injured, but it was decided that it would be best for him to remain there overnight to regain his strength. But the Techie was distraught. The Messenger and the Inspector were there by his side, but the Informant was not; he had retreated to his room, locking himself in. And no amount of pleas were drawing him out.
“He’s hurting…” said the Techie, his voice laden with worry.
“I tried snapping him out of it,” sighed the Messenger, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles, and he turned to the Inspector. “He didn’t even open the door or reply to me. Can you try talking to him?”
“Do you think I’ll be able to get through to him?” the agent asked.
“Even if you don’t, you’re the one who could break his door down,” the Messenger replied. “But only as a last resort.”
The Inspector nodded, heading to the agents’ dorms, hammering on the door.
“Open this door; we need to talk.”
No reply. With a sigh, the Inspector forced the door open to see the Informant lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn’t even give any indication that he acknowledged the Inspector’s presence.
“What’s going on?” asked the Inspector.
“I can’t go down there,” the Informant said. “I’m a maniac waiting to break free and cause havoc.”
“Don’t do this to them.”
The Informant blinked, looking up at the older agent at last.
“They’re suffering right now-both of them,” said the Inspector. “And you know what? So am I. We’re all suffering, seeing you like this. You can’t let those Rare Hunters decide who you are.”
“Who am I, then?” asked the Informant. “Which one is the real me!?”
“The real you is the one who wouldn’t abandon his brothers.”
With that, the Inspector sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, and he retreated back to the infirmary.
“Did you talk to him?” the Messenger asked.
“Yes, and I actually got some semblance of a response,” the Inspector answered. “He’s still out of it, though.”
“I’ve never seen Infy like this before…” the Messenger said, his chin in his hands.
“It’s my fault…” said the Techie, trembling. “He thought they’d sawed me in half, and he lost it… Everything that was a part of who he is… He lost it, because of me.”
“No!” a voice cried from the doorway. “It’s not your fault! It’s not!”
“Infy!” the Messenger exclaimed, immediately glomping him. “We missed you!”
The boy hugged back, weakly.
“The Inspector knocked some sense into me,” he said, hugging him as well. “Shutting you guys out is exactly what they wanted. I can’t let them win! I won’t!” He turned to the Techie. “I’m so sorry…” He hugged him tightly, and the Techie gratefully returned it. “You won’t lose your best friend ever again.”
“That’s the best get well present you could ever give me,” the Techie whispered.
“Group hug!” the Messenger declared, glomping them both.
The Inspector rolled his eyes, amused, and joined in all the same.
They would be alright, regardless of the Rare Hunters on the loose. They had their fourth brother back. And he was here to stay.
Author: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Claim: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (The Dying Informant)
Table: General #11
Prompt: Blame
Rating: PG13
Summary: After returning the wild ponies that Patty stole from Chincoteague Island, the agents see a boat pull up onto the shore in the dark of night. They investigate, only to find that they should've left before they got involved with Bandit Keith and the Rare Hunters.
Warnings: Seriousness/angst in a lighthearted fandom
Will be cross-posted to my journal, other comms, and the V.I.L.E. Headquarters fanfic forum.
Author's Note: this fic was partly inspired by an RP mini-series with Lucky Ladybug where ACME clashed with the Rare Hunters from Yu-Gi-Oh. This fic fits in my grand timeline, meaning that it takes place after Atem has returned to the spirit world. I borrowed a plot idea from the Yu-Gi-Oh: Reshef of Destruction video game where Bandit Keith takes over the Rare Hunters, hoping to get revenge on Marik. As always, the charaters aren't mine, and the story is! Thanks to Lucky Ladybug and Sean for plot help!
************************
“Hey, guys…” said the Techie. “Can I get a little help here…?”
The Messenger stood with folded arms as he watched the wild ponies all gather around the Techie, nuzzling him.
“Sorry, but I think you’re on your own for this one…” he said, taking a picture of the amusing scene.
“Hey, come on; this was funny for the first fifteen minutes,” said the Techie. “But this animal magnetism thing is starting to lose its charm.”
“Not from where we’re standing, Buddy,” said the Informant, grinning.
“They’re just trying to thank you…” the Inspector mused.
It hadn’t been too long ago that ACME had recovered the wild ponies of Chincoteague from Patty Larceny. The four agents had been assigned to bring them back home. But for some unexplainable reason, the ponies had taken a liking to the Techie, and it wasn’t just them; the Techie had been followed by herons, egrets, seagulls, and even crabs ever since they set foot on the island, all of the animals fawning over him.
“Did you guys plan this!?” he asked as he fled from the fauna.
The others shook their heads, trying to keep straight faces.
Eventually, the wild ponies decided to return to their own business as the agents retreated to Tom’s Cove. There was an expense of beach, along which they had an ACME helicopter waiting to take them back.
“Now, then…” said the Informant. “You’re going to have to explain to your new friends that they can’t come back with us. There just isn’t room in that tiny helicopter…” He trailed off as he looked out into the ocean. “What’s that little light out there?”
“Looks like a small boat…” said the Inspector, his eyes narrowing.
“But the docks aren’t here…” said the Informant, trying to get a better look. “Hey, the light just went out! Are they trying to land here without lights!?”
“Well, there is a lighthouse,” said the Messenger, glancing behind them at the Assateauge Lighthouse, which was just visible over the horizon.
The Techie frowned.
“They’d be crazy!” he said. “They’ll run aground! Why would they want to land here, at night, without lights!?”
The Informant’s eyes narrowed.
“Maybe because they don’t want anyone to know they’re here.”
“Why would someone not want anyone else to know they were arriving on the shore?” asked the Techie, frowning. “What kind of person would want that…?”
The Messenger’s eyes widened.
“Pirates!” he exclaimed. “And I know the best way to check!”
“How?” asked the young agent, intrigued.
“Simple. You climb on board and announce loudly that the rum is gone. If you get a loud reaction, chances are pretty good that you’re dealing with pirates.”
The others gave him unreadable glances.
“Someone’s been watching too many movies…” the Inspector deadpanned.
“Well, there’s another way to find out,” said the Informant, smirking. “We sneak onboard-quietly-and look around for stolen property. That is a more accurate method of testing for pirates.”
“Not as dramatic, though…” the Messenger answered.
The agents waited for the boat to pull as close as it could towards the shore. That was when they realized that the craft had wheels on it. The boat pulled up to the beach, and though the agents waited for someone to exit the boat, no one did.
“I wonder if they’ve figured out a way to maneuver that thing on land with those wheels… Guess that makes it easy to transport,” said the Techie. “Pretty ingenious, actually…”
“Bet Jack Sparrow would’ve loved to have wheels on the Black Pearl,” said the Messenger, with another smirk. “Come on; let’s go check it out.”
They waded out to the side of the boat, the Techie managing to fasten a grappling hook to the side of the ship. He climbed aboard first, looking around.
“Any rum?” the Messenger asked.
The Techie suppressed a laugh.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said, as the Informant clambered aboard. The others soon followed. “In fact, I don’t think there’s anyone here. I can’t hear a sound.”
“Maybe it’s deserted?” asked the Informant, looking around.
“Then how do you explain the light we saw on this boat going off?” asked the Inspector.
“Maybe they were forced to abandon ship, and they left their lights on?” asked the Messenger. “And as the boat was drifting here, the power ran out?”
“I don’t know if it can be that simple…” said the Inspector, looking around. He had a feeling that there was more to this picture than met the eye.
“Well, why don’t we just split up and take a look around?” the Informant asked. “We can keep our communication lines open, so we can let each other know if we find anything suspicious…”
“Or any rum,” the Messenger cracked.
“You and your rum…” the Techie said, amused, but he went on his way, heading down the nearest staircase that led to the storage holds.
“I’ll check out the control room…” said the Informant, heading that way.
“I’ll check out the other rooms,” said the Inspector, heading down another set of stairs.
“And I’ll check out the kitchen,” the Messenger replied, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he took yet another set of stairs.
The Techie in the meantime, was looking over the holds. There seemed to be an assortment of things: old vases, pottery, some jewelry… and boxes and boxes of what looked like the weirdest card game the brunet had ever seen.
“I don’t know who these people are, but they’re a weird bunch,” he said into his communicator. “I’d like to say the might be smugglers, but…”
“But what?” asked the Informant, discovering the door to the control room locked. With an annoyed sigh, he attempted to pick it open with a wire.
“I’ve never seen smugglers take more care in securing trading cards than Ming vases and Egyptian regalia,” he said, looking them over. “Oh, you know what? These look like the cards those kids were using in Domino City…” He opened the next hold. “Well, this is… even weirder…”
“What?” asked the Techie, finally getting the door of the control room opened.
“The last few holds are all full of antiques, money, and trading cards,” said the Techie. “This one is full of magic equipment.”
“I’ve got it!” said the Messenger, hearing the transmission. “They’re Magician Pirates!” He smirked as he opened the cabinets. “Who drink gin instead of rum, apparently…” he added, as he glanced at the contents.
The Inspector frowned.
“Just be on your guard,” he said.
“Right,” said the Messenger. It sounded like his mouth was full of food.
“What did you find…?” asked the Informant, as he suppressed a smirk. But then he frowned. The controls seemed to be run on autopilot. Part of the power system was on; if the boat had been abandoned, it had been instructed to shut its lights off and wheel itself onto the shore. And that didn’t make any sense…
“Someone left a pizza out here,” the Messenger said. “Still warm, too…”
“Then whoever made it must’ve left it not too long ago,” said Inspector.
“I think you’re right,” said the Informant. “The controls seemed to have been last adjusted about a half an hour ago.
“But there’s no one here!” said the Techie, as he searched through the magic equipment. “A half an hour ago, the boat was still pretty close to the shore. We would’ve seen someone jumping ship!”
The Messenger mumbled something with a full mouth, but the young discerned the words “ghost ship.”
“I doubt ghosts would leave that pizza there for you, in spite of your semi-legendary appetite…” the boy replied.
The Techie shook his head. When those two went at it with their banter, they’d go on for hours, trying to outwit the other into silence… or until it escalated into a raucous Chase (they had, on one occasion, brought a piece of plaster down on the Chief’s desk; needless to say, she hadn’t been pleased to discover it there the next morning). But it was all in good fun… And more often than once, the Recruiting Officer had brought popcorn while he watched.
There was an odd-looking, life-size mannequin in the back of the room, standing motionless. It was adorned in a punk getup, and a deck of those same trading cards sat in a pouch on the mannequin’s belt.
“Weird…” the Techie repeated, with a shake of his head. He began rummaging through some of the magic boxes, seeing if there was anything inside.
That was when he heard the creaking of the floor behind him.
He turned to see the mannequin walking towards him, glaring at him with sunken eyes. It was a person!?
The Techie cried out as the person dealt him a knockout punch without saying a word.
And now the other three froze.
“Techie…?” the Inspector asked.
“Techie, are you alright!?” asked the Messenger.
“What happened!?” asked the Informant.
But the Techie did not reply, and the Informant was the first to tear down the staircase and into the hold.
The Messenger was coming from the galley and yelped as the living mannequin ran past him without saying a word.
“What happened?” asked the Inspector, arriving to see the look on his face.
“Some creepy little guy just ran past me…” he said, with a shake of his head. “Infy, did you find him?!”
“No…!” the boy answered, looking around at the magic equipment. “I found his communicator, but that’s all…”
“Techie!?” the Messenger called.
The Inspector looked around the room. His intuition of the ship not being deserted had been right; perhaps there were more people on board.
“Techie, where are you!?” the Informant cried. “Answer me!”
“Infy…?” the Messenger said, grabbing the boy’s shoulder as he looked in the back of the room.
The Informant followed his gaze; the older agent was looking at some sort of oblong box. It was one of those saw-them-in-two boxes, the boy realized. He sneered at it; he never did like those things…
And apparently the Messenger didn’t, either; he was still gripping the younger agent’s shoulders.
“Yes, I saw the box,” the boy said. “I’m not a fan of it, either--”
“No, Infy…” said the older agent. “Look… Look harder…”
“Bro, I really don’t see anyth--”
He stopped as he noticed the familiar pair of shoes sticking out from the legholes of the box.
“No…” he whispered. “They couldn’t… They wouldn’t have!” he cried, trying to free the rest of the box from the clutter it was under.
The Inspector paled, he and the Messenger helping to shift the clutter as well. The box was long, and the Techie was too short to have both his head and feet outside it; at the other hole in the box, his hair was just visible.
“Techie!” cried the boy. “TECHIE!?”
He opened the box, seeing the unconscious Techie locked inside the shackles. It was part of the illusion, he knew; shackling the person into the box and then proceeding to pretend to saw it in half… But whoever had done this… had he been intending to pretend this time, too?
One of the weird trading card was resting on the Techie’s chest, the Informant picked it up, and it was attached to a note.
“These locks are electronically sealed. I thank you to leave my new assistant alone. I’ll let you know when it’s time for his big moment in my next show; I’m sure you won’t want to miss it. And not a word to anyone, or you might hear from us to discover that your friend… went to pieces.”
The card that had been attached to the note showed a robed mage, and had “The Dark Magician” printed on the top.
“Techie…” the Informant gasped, dropping the card and the note to the floor. They had to get him out of here! They had to!
“Techie, wake up…” pleaded the Messenger. “Come on…”
“We need to get him out of here,” said the Inspector, looking around the hold uneasily. “Take the whole box and come on.”
“But--”
“Listen to me,” said the Inspector, urgency evident in his voice. “They wanted us to find him like this; they’re coming. We can take him back to ACME; the other techies can free him from the electronic locks. Everything else can wait.”
The Techie groaned, beginning to come to. His eyes opened, and he glanced at his friends with a puzzled expression.
“Guys?” he asked. “What happened…?” He tried to get up, but fell back into the box as the locks on his wrists and ankles prevented him from moving. “What’s going on!?” he cried, beginning to panic. “Guys… Get me out of here!”
“We will,” the Inspector vowed. He turned to the others. “Take the box with us and let’s go.”
“I would advise that you leave him exactly where he is,” a new voice said, just as they were getting into position to move the box. The agents turned to see a man in a three-piece suit, top hat, and a mask.
“You should take care to listen to my note,” he said, with a shake of his head.
“Who are you!?” hissed the Informant. “What do you want with our friend?!”
“Your friend was snooping around my magic equipment far too much for my liking,” the man hissed. “No one touches the equipment of the Great Arkana without paying the price. Since he was so interested in my act, well… Now he gets to be a part of it!”
The Techie paled, realizing where he was.
“Let him go!” snarled the boy, making a move to run at the man.
“Ah-ah-ah…” he chided, causing the Informant to stop. “I’m afraid this won’t do. Master Keith hates trespassers as much as I do.”
“Keith…?” asked the Messenger, frowning. “Not ‘Bandit’ Keith Howard, the card shark and current leader of the Rare Hunters?”
“So you’ve heard of me?” a new voice asked, belonging to a tall man. His hair was hidden beneath a bandanna.
“There’s a profile on you in the ACME files,” the Inspector informed him. “Apparently, you’re under investigation for a few cases of kidnapping, larceny, extortion--”
“ACME…” Keith muttered. “I might’ve known. You do-gooders are all alike…” He snapped his fingers, and several of his henchmen filled the hold, including the creepy mannequin-man. “Escort these three… guests to my office. I’ll be having a little chat with them later.”
“Techie’s coming with us,” said the Informant, placing his hand on his precious friend’s wrist.
“I’m afraid not,” Keith smirked. “You see, Arkana needs to practice his act.” The card shark chuckled as the expression of fear filled the Techie’s face. “Now get moving-quietly. You wouldn’t want any… distractions to ruin the outcome of Arkana’s rehearsal, now would you?”
That convinced the Inspector and the Messenger to go quietly under the escort of several Rare Hunters, but the Informant was refusing to budge from the Techie’s side.
“I’m not going; I’m staying with Techie,” he stated.
Keith gave an exasperated sigh.
“Lumis, Umbra… Escort our friend to my office, won’t you?”
“Do as he says,” the Techie whispered. “You’re going to get hurt.”
“Me!? You’re the one who’s trapped here in this stupid box…” the Informant trailed off as he was seized by Lumis and Umbra. “Let me go; you can’t do this!” He struggled vainly as he was dragged away. “Techie! TECHIE!”
The Techie could only tremble, praying for his friends’ safety, as well as his own as soon only he and Arkana were left in the hold.
************************
“I’m warning you right now,” said the Informant, glaring daggers at Bandit Keith. “If any one of your flunkies touches so much as a hair on the Techie’s head--”
“What can you do about it?” asked Keith, smirking. “You’re my prisoner, Kid.”
“Look, we don’t know anything,” said the Messenger. “We were just returning the wild ponies that Patty Larceny stole, and when we saw your boat, we thought we should check and see what was going on.”
“What he’s trying to say is that it was just a matter of poor timing,” the Inspector deadpanned.
“Well, that’s not my problem,” said the card shark. “You should keep you noses out of other peoples’ business.”
“Oh, will you shut up!?” the Informant snapped, uncharacteristically livid. “All I want is my friend back!” He clenched a fist. “And I want him back now.”
Keith merely smirked. It would be entertaining to keep pushing this kid’s buttons.
“Lumis, Umbra… Take the other two gentlemen to the next room. Have Strings keep an eye on them. I’ll deal with them after I’ve finished with this one here.”
“No, you won’t take them, too!” the Informant protested. He moved to help the others, but Bandit Keith seized him by the trenchcoat collar.
“What are you doing!?” the Informant hissed. “What do you want from me?”
Keith merely smirked. Just as ACME had heard of him, he had heard tale of the odd Dying Informant, who seemed to have more lives than Super Mario. Someone so resilient would make a good Rare Hunter. And by controlling the fates of his friends, the boy would undoubtedly submit.
“I want you to learn a lesson,” he replied. “You ACME agents always end up sticking your noses where they don’t belong. V.I.L.E. might not be able to stop you, but you aren’t dealing with V.I.L.E. anymore. The Rare Hunters don’t fall as easily. Nor do we let potential members slip through our grasp.”
The Informant glared at him again.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. “We’ll never join you!”
“I don’t need all of you,” Keith replied. “I’ll be satisfied with having ACME’s top Informant as a Rare Hunter. Think about it… An indestructible man is a valuable asset to any organization. That could be the only reason why ACME bothers keeping you around.”
The boy paled. No, that couldn’t be it… He was a good agent who did his work well; that alone was why he was held with great admiration at ACME!
“So how about it, Kid? You about ready to trade in that trenchcoat for a violet robe?”
The young agent’s eyes narrowed.
“Never,” he declared, aiming a punch at Keith’s jaw. While the card shark was stunned, the Informant immediately fled, trying to find his friends. Where were they? And what had happened to the Techie? Was he still back in the hold!? He had to get there before Arkana did anything!
Meanwhile, Strings was standing guard in the room where the others were. Strings and the Inspector were locked in an unending deadpan staring contest, each waiting for the other one to blink.
The Messenger had busied himself with poking around the room; Strings hadn’t said a word objecting to it. Actually, he hadn’t said a word at all.
“Hey, what’s this…?” asked the Messenger, picking up a wallet in a dresser. “‘Aurus Kayser’…? Hey, wasn’t he that kid from Vulsor Hall who tried to warn me about the banshee?”
“I think so,” said the Inspector, not looking away from the staring contest.
“Then that means that the kid is a Rare Hunter!” he exclaimed.
“Sad…” the Inspector agreed.
“Hey, and there’s a girl’s picture in here… She looks familiar; I think she’s that girl we ran into in Domino… What was her name again…? Coffeé?”
“Try Téa,” the other agent replied, unable to roll his eyes at the present moment.
“Oh, yeah… I knew it was something along those lines…” mused the Messenger, looking back at the staring contest. “So if you win this thing, will he let us go?”
“I don’t know; he didn’t say a thing,” the Inspector replied, not blinking.
“Great, we can take that as a yes!” said the Messenger. “Now, to get him to lose the game…” He pondered for a minute, and then pretended to seem fixated on something behind Strings. “Oh, look, the rum is gone!”
Strings didn’t budge.
“Okaaaaay…” sighed the agent. “You know what? These Rare Hunters are notorious for not playing fair.”
“And your point is…?” asked the Inspector.
“Turnabout is fair play!” said the Messenger, charging at Strings.
“Hold it!” the Inspector ordered, causing him to freeze in place. “I think we need a different approach.”
“Good idea,” the other replied. “But what can--?”
The Inspector froze now, glancing behind Strings.
“Bandit Keith…” he muttered.
The Messenger whirled around, but there was no one there. But now Strings looked, and the Inspector took advantage of his distracted state to shove him into a closet.
“I win,” he declared.
“Glad to see you’re thinking along the same lines as me,” the Messenger grinned.
“I guess that’s the price I have to pay for hanging around you too much…”
“You say that as though it were a bad thing…” he replied.
“I think the world has its hands full with one of you,” the Inspector explained. “I’m sure that the Informant would also agree that we don’t need to find another you.”
“Oh, no… Infy…” gasped the Messenger, recalling that he was with Keith. “He’d better be okay…” He broke into a run, calling for him and the Techie as the Inspector ran right behind him.
The Informant, in the meantime, was tearing towards the hold.
“Techie!” he cried. “I’m here…” He trailed off. Arkana wasn’t in the room. “Techie? Techie, are you in here? Are you alright…? Say something!”
He walked to the back of the hold, trying to find the box. And that was when he found it. The box was in two pieces, a velvet sheet thrown over each half.
“NOOOOOO!” the horrified scream erupted from his lips.
He did not know that this was a different box. The Techie was still in one piece, but had been moved to a different hold, a handkerchief gagging his mouth. His heart twisted as the boy’s agonized scream carried through the metal walls of the hold. He had seen what Arkana had done; he knew that it was all a ploy to mess with his mind. He had heard Keith’s transmission to Arkana, instructing him to make it seem as though he had been sawn in half. And the Techie was both sickened and livid; he wanted nothing more than to rush to his cherished friend’s side and reassure him that everything was fine.
But it wasn’t fine. His air supply in the hold was limited. And no one other than Arkana knew that he was in here. If the Informant were to find out that he, the Techie, had escaped the cutting, only to suffer this fate… The Techie cringed at the thought of how devastated the boy would become. He would never recover if that happened.
A new fire coursed through the Techie. He would not let it happen. His fingers were able to move slightly… just enough to reach into his pocket and retrieve his handheld. Unable to look, he was relying on the feel of the keypad to try to hack through the electronic locks. He would have to succeed; two lives were depending on the outcome.
But he did not know that the Informant was already losing himself to the maddening grief and anger. The boy unleashed another cry that rent both the air and the Techie’s heart. He heard the boy storm past the hold he was him, and he frantically let out a series of muffled yells and cries, but the Informant was in too much of a rage to hear them.
More determined than ever, the Techie continued trying to free himself. The Messenger and the Inspector, in the meantime, heard the boy’s yells and were running to follow him.
By this time, Arkana had heard them, too, and approached the Informant, smirking.
“That’s what happens when you refuse Bandit Keith’s orders--”
The Informant cut him off with a strike.
“I won’t forgive you. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to Techie,” he hissed. “He was innocent. Everyone loved him; even the animals loved him. And look what you did to him!” He screamed in rage and struck back again like a man possessed, and now Arkana was actually afraid of him.
“Wait… Wait…” pleaded the magician. “Let me explain… Your friend isn’t really--”
“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” the boy screamed.
“Just stop… please… Let me talk--”
“You didn’t let him talk!” he retorted. “You didn’t give him any mercy when he was begging for it! You didn’t care!” His eyes burned dangerously. “I’m not letting you talk now!” He struck again.
And the Techie could hear every word and every strike. He was utterly horrified. What had the Informant- the sweet, happy, fun-loving Informant-become!?
The Inspector and the Messenger arrived in time to see the Informant pummeling Arkana.
“Infy, no! Stop!”
“Get a hold of yourself!”
And when he did not, the other agents resorted to restraining him.
“Let me go!” he howled. “He can’t get away with what he did to Techie!”
“Come on,” said the Inspector, firmly. “We’re better than them. We don’t stoop to their level.”
“Infy, what’s happened to you…?” asked the Messenger, horrified at the realization that something terrible had happened to the Techie. But now… they had lost the Informant, too. And they had to bring him back before he was lost to them for good.
“I can’t!” the boy cried, still trying to pull away, not even listening. “I can’t sit by knowing what he did!”
“You have to get a hold of yourself,” said the Inspector. “Techie wouldn’t want this.”
“He most certainly wouldn’t…” a weak voice agreed.
All heads turned to see the Techie stumbling towards them. He was swaying as he clutched at the wall just to remain standing, but his eyes were seeking out the Informant, staring at his younger friend with a devastated expression.
“Look at you…” he whispered, hobbling over to embrace him. “What have I done to you…? What have I put you through? I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
The Informant just stared, too stunned to move.
“Techie… you’re alive… you’re alive…” He couldn’t believe it… His precious friend had returned to him. “You came back…”
“I never left,” the Techie replied. “They had me in a different room; I just managed to escape... But what about you? Have you come back?”
“I…” the Informant trailed off, realizing the meaning of his words. He had lost control of himself, becoming something he had never even thought possible.
Arkana was seizing the opportunity to retreat, nursing his bruises as he backed into Bandit Keith.
“What’s the matter, Kid?” Keith sneered. “The fight gone out of you? But never mind; I’ve seen what I needed to see. You have what it takes to become a Rare Hunter. All you need to do is lose these idiots.”
“I’ll never join you!” the boy retorted, pulling from the Techie’s embrace as he whirled around to face Keith. He was going rigid again, his eyes beginning to spark in fury… Keith was the one who had ordered Arkana to attack…
“Not this…” said the Techie, weakly. “No…”
The Messenger and the Inspector each grabbed one of the boy’s arms again.
“Infy, don’t listen to him.”
“Don’t lose sight of who you are.”
“And who is he?” asked Keith. “He’s just some accident-prone kid whose talents are wasted in that little runt of a detective agency. In your hands, he’s worthless. But in the hands of the Rare Hunters… He can be greater than you could ever imagine.”
“TAKE IT BACK!” the Informant yelled. His muscles strained against the hold of his two friends.
“No!” pleaded the Techie, hobbling in front of him to face him. He was still weak, and was supporting himself on the Informant’s shoulders. “This isn’t you. So where is he?” He blinked back a tear. “Where’s my best friend?”
“And my little brother?” asked the Messenger.
The Informant glanced, horrified, at Keith’s sneering face, and then to the Inspector and the Messenger, and then the Techie, who looked absolutely crushed. The Techie was blaming himself for driving the boy to this… If only he had been more vigilant, it would not have happened…
“You can’t go back to them,” Keith said. “You’re not one of them anymore… Not that you ever really were.”
“It’s not true!” the Techie cried, hugging him again. And now the others were hugging him, too.
“You’re always been one of us,” said the Messenger. “You know I always tried to show you that.”
“And we want our true friend back,” said the Inspector.
“You’re not getting him back,” said Keith. “The Rare Hunters have laid their claim.”
“Too bad!” the Messenger retorted.
He and the Inspector sprang into action, helping the others get past Keith. Rare Hunters were swarming around them, trying to stop them, but they had gotten enough of a headstart.
“We’ll never catch them, Master Keith…” said a green-haired Rare Hunter. “What do we do?”
“For now, nothing,” the card shark replied. “But when the time is right, we’ll round up all of our… unwilling members.” He picked up the picture of Téa that the Messenger had dropped in the struggle.
********************************
The agents successfully made it to their helicopter, calling the coast guard to alert them to the Rare Hunters. Some time later, as they neared New York, they received notification that the Rare Hunters had escaped, though some of the stolen artifacts were recovered from the boat.
“It’s weird,” said the officer. “They took a bunch of cards and a few Egyptian artifacts, but they left most of the other artifacts behind.”
“Well, ‘weird’ pretty much sums them up,” the Messenger replied. “Well, that… and ‘sadistic’…” He glanced at everyone else. The poor Techie had fallen asleep, and the Informant was staring blankly out the window while the Inspector tried, in vain, to get him to talk.
When they arrived, the Techie was admitted to the infirmary. He wasn’t too badly injured, but it was decided that it would be best for him to remain there overnight to regain his strength. But the Techie was distraught. The Messenger and the Inspector were there by his side, but the Informant was not; he had retreated to his room, locking himself in. And no amount of pleas were drawing him out.
“He’s hurting…” said the Techie, his voice laden with worry.
“I tried snapping him out of it,” sighed the Messenger, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles, and he turned to the Inspector. “He didn’t even open the door or reply to me. Can you try talking to him?”
“Do you think I’ll be able to get through to him?” the agent asked.
“Even if you don’t, you’re the one who could break his door down,” the Messenger replied. “But only as a last resort.”
The Inspector nodded, heading to the agents’ dorms, hammering on the door.
“Open this door; we need to talk.”
No reply. With a sigh, the Inspector forced the door open to see the Informant lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn’t even give any indication that he acknowledged the Inspector’s presence.
“What’s going on?” asked the Inspector.
“I can’t go down there,” the Informant said. “I’m a maniac waiting to break free and cause havoc.”
“Don’t do this to them.”
The Informant blinked, looking up at the older agent at last.
“They’re suffering right now-both of them,” said the Inspector. “And you know what? So am I. We’re all suffering, seeing you like this. You can’t let those Rare Hunters decide who you are.”
“Who am I, then?” asked the Informant. “Which one is the real me!?”
“The real you is the one who wouldn’t abandon his brothers.”
With that, the Inspector sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, and he retreated back to the infirmary.
“Did you talk to him?” the Messenger asked.
“Yes, and I actually got some semblance of a response,” the Inspector answered. “He’s still out of it, though.”
“I’ve never seen Infy like this before…” the Messenger said, his chin in his hands.
“It’s my fault…” said the Techie, trembling. “He thought they’d sawed me in half, and he lost it… Everything that was a part of who he is… He lost it, because of me.”
“No!” a voice cried from the doorway. “It’s not your fault! It’s not!”
“Infy!” the Messenger exclaimed, immediately glomping him. “We missed you!”
The boy hugged back, weakly.
“The Inspector knocked some sense into me,” he said, hugging him as well. “Shutting you guys out is exactly what they wanted. I can’t let them win! I won’t!” He turned to the Techie. “I’m so sorry…” He hugged him tightly, and the Techie gratefully returned it. “You won’t lose your best friend ever again.”
“That’s the best get well present you could ever give me,” the Techie whispered.
“Group hug!” the Messenger declared, glomping them both.
The Inspector rolled his eyes, amused, and joined in all the same.
They would be alright, regardless of the Rare Hunters on the loose. They had their fourth brother back. And he was here to stay.