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She was in heaven.

“Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?”

As the taxi carrying the three agents who were back from their investigation in the Biblioteca Ambrosiana took a left turn to the Via Monte Napoleone road, the prominent shopping street right in the heart of Milan, Diamond’s eyes sparkled.

“…around the world from Kiev to Carolina…”

Armani…

“…filcher from Berlin down to Belize…”

Salvatore Ferragamo…

“…for a ride on a slow boat to China…”

Louis Vuitton…

“Tell me, where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?”

Gucci…

Face glued to the window, oblivious to Nick’s constant singing, her eyes sparkled even more as they read the names of the stores they were passing by.

Pure heaven. The kind of heaven she’d consider herself lucky to be in if she was dead and had come back to the world as a ghost. Oh, how wonderful it would be to wander through the racks of clothes, shelves of shoes, and lines of bags for eternity…

Prada.

“Alright, that’s it,” she mumbled and turned to the taxi driver. “Riesci a tirare su per favore?!”

Nick and Styx glanced at each other confusingly. “What did she say?” Nick asked, pointing at Diamond sitting next to him.

Styx shrugged. “Don’t ask me, dawg, I could only get the per favore part.”

Before the taxi came to a full stop, Diamond threw herself out of the car and yelled to the fellow agents, “Pay him!”

Nick and Styx didn’t move an inch, just stared blankly at the foxy former blonde, who was now standing on the sidewalk right in front of the Prada store. “What are you waiting for?!” she called to them exasperatedly. “Pay the man, and get out of the damn car!”

“I think she’s losing it, dawg,” Styx commented, as Nick took on the command instantly and did as he was told, motioning Styx to follow him out of the car. “No offense, she’s sexy and all that, but I guess all these plane rides messed with her mind.”

Nick raised his head up and gazed at their surroundings, knowing all too well why Diamond had rushed out of the taxi. “Nope.” He sighed. “Being in Milan messed with her mind.” He gave Styx a small pat on the shoulder. “Let’s go before she explodes.”

Diamond had already made her way into the Prada store, her eyes growing big with anticipation at the luxury inside. Milan, oh dear Milan… Prada… shoes… bags… Right there! The summer dress she was dying to buy-

“Argh, are we seriously gonna let her shop, dawg?!”

Snapped back to reality by the rookie agent’s comment, Diamond turned on her heels, her eyes now glaring right through Styx. She took two steps towards the agent, until her face was merely inches away from his chest (she hated being small at times like these), and raised her index finger in a threatening manner, without releasing her gaze from his.

“I’ve been travelling around the world for God knows how many days now, stuck in these ugly clothes, not complaining for a second,” she hissed. “I’ve had to endure all your childish behavior and bickering, and I haven’t said a word.” She poked his chest with her index finger, causing the tall man to take a step backwards. “Now I am in Milan. The shopping capital of the world. I’m in the Prada store. Milan. Prada. And I will shop. As long and as much as my heart desires. And I wouldn’t recommend you standing in my way, rookie. Understood?”

Speechless, Styx just nodded, gulping audibly.

“Now that we’re on the same page…” Diamond threw her hair over her shoulder and looked around the store, puzzled. “Where do you think I should start? The shoes? The bags? There’s so much to do in so little time!”

As she turned around and started browsing through the racks of clothes, like a butterfly flying from one flower to another, Nick gave Styx another pat on the back.

“First rule of being on a mission with Diamond Divine: Don’t argue when it comes to shopping. If you’d like to live, that is.”


± ± ±


Two hours and at least fifteen shops later, Nick and Styx were leaning against the outside wall of Valentino, looking expressionlessly at the stylish men and women passing by the street.

“I feel queasy,” Nick whined.

“Do you know there are ninety-one designer stores located only on this street?” Styx turned to face him with blank eyes. “Ninety. One. And the last time I counted, we’ve only been to fifteen of them, tops. Which leaves us… I mean, dawg, how many stores exactly?” He shook his head. “I can’t do the math; my brain is not functioning.”

Nick glanced back inside the store, only to see Diamond trying probably her fiftieth pair of shoes. “That woman is a robot, I swear. I have to pee, and I’m starving. Yet she looks like the Energizer Bunny.” He let out another sigh. “I think we’re gonna rot here. The last thing my eyes will see is gonna be another leather clutch from Chanel or a silk summer dress from Dior. Or a pair of peep-toe pumps from Prada. How sad.”

Styx looked at him incredulously. “Do you hear yourself?!”

Nick’s eyes grew wide with realization. “Oh my god. Not only am I gonna rot and die here, I’m gonna turn into Lancy before I do!”

“Alright, I’m done!” Diamond announced, coming out of store, carrying two bags. “You won’t believe the shoes I just bought, Nick; they’re amazing!” she chirped and then stopped dead on her tracks, her eyes stuck on the other side of the road. “Yves Saint Laurent!”

Grunting, two male agents grabbed the rest of the bags from the floor, following Diamond like a pair of ducklings across the street. “We’ll be waiting outside!” Nick yelled inside the store, only to get a hand shrug from Diamond. “This is the apocalypse.”

Nick had only counted five Italian ladies that he would have loved to bless with his Carter charm, when Styx nudged him roughly in the ribs, pointing across the street with his head. “Dawg, we have company. Ten o’clock.”

Reluctantly releasing his gaze from the Italian girl he was checking out at the café next to the store, Nick turned his attention to where Styx was pointing. “Shitballs,” he muttered under his breath. “Who knew the Feds had a sense of style?!”

“I’m going in to let Diamond know,” Styx said and rushed inside, only to come out with Diamond in tow seconds later.

Trying to act nonchalant, so they wouldn’t attract attention, Nick looked around. “Alright, we act cool, we just walk slowly up the street, until we’re out of their sight, and then we’ll just catch a cab and go back to the hotel.”

The other two agents nodded as Nick, took a step towards the opposite side of the street from where the Feds were standing.

“Grab the bags!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Nick stopped and looked behind him, only to see Diamond, her own hands already full, motioning for Styx to take the rest of her shopping bags. “I WON’T leave them here!”

“They are gonna slow us down!” Styx raised his voice exasperatedly.

“They cost me more than your monthly income, Styx! TAKE. THE. BAGS!” Diamond yelled back.

He was about to open his mouth to tell them cut the crap when he saw the federal agents nudging each other and pointing at them. “Shitballs! They’re onto us! Run!!”

This was enough to bring Styx and even Diamond back to their senses. Diamond dropped the bags she was carrying in an instant as they started running down the street, trying to make their way through the crowds of people.

“What are we gonna do?!” Styx yelled.

“You would have thought about that before yelling like a pig in the middle of street!” Nick yelled back, knocking down an empty chair on the street café. “Shitballs!!”

“There!” Diamond pointed towards a small street on the left side. “We can lose them in there!”

They rushed across the road and dove straight into the small street Diamond pointed, receiving loud horns and Italian swears that Nick was glad not to be able to understand.

The street they ran into was very small, yet with several boutiques lined side by side. Without bothering to look back, they entered one of them. There were only a couple of customers inside, with a sales lady behind the cash register.

Diamond flipped out her HimTak ID, making sure everyone in the store saw it. “Tu non ci vede.” You did not see us.

Benefiting from the baffled expressions they received and hearing the loud footsteps of the Feds echoing in the deserted street, Nick and Diamond squeezed inside the only dressing room in the store, hidden by a curtain, while Styx barely found the time to jump inside a rack of clothing beside it.

They didn’t even breathe for a couple of seconds following their hiding. The dressing room was too small and stuffy; it was hard for even one person to fit in. Diamond felt Nick’s hands on the small of her back; she was pressed tight against his body. She muffled a laugh and buried her head into the crook of his neck. Nick’s body stiffened a little, giving the reaction she knew it would, as she felt his hands moving even lower.

“Didn’t know you had a dressing room fantasy, Carter,” she whispered seductively, toggling the hook of his shirt. “I like the idea of it, though…”

“If I had a dime for every fantasy I have with you…” he whispered back huskily, pulling Diamond closer to himself.

“You’d be a fucking Rockefeller; yeah, we’ve heard.” Styx yanked the curtain open, looking unsurprised to catch the two agents’ intimacy. “They’re gone. Not sure if they’ve lost us, but they don’t seem to be anywhere out on the street. Highly likely that they’re stashed somewhere to step on our tails, though.” He spoke matter-of-factly.

“Courtesy, rookie,” Nick hissed, as they both got out of the dressing room. “Common courtesy to KNOCK.”

“On a curtain?” Styx scoffed over his shoulder, as he walked away.

“You sounded a lot like K when you spoke to him,” Diamond mumbled behind his back, eying the now vacant boutique. “Great, we’ve scared off the customers.”

Shrugging, Nick walked to the entrance and peeked outside. The street looked empty. “How the hell are we gonna get out of here?”

Diamond’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I have an idea,” she said, swinging a brown wig on her finger.


± ± ±


“You look like a dork.”

“Said the dork with the blue suede shoes.”

“At least I ain’t wearing a hideous tan vest inside a navy jacket with a cream tie with polka dots on it. Over a blue and white striped shirt.”

“At least I don’t show my ankles in tight tan pants.”

“At least I’m not wearing an ugly belt and braces.”

“At least I don’t have a bright green scarf around my neck.”

“Oh shut up, you two!” Diamond yelled exasperatedly, trying to place the short curly brown wig on her head. “I’m the one who really looks repulsive. Not only did I lose a whole new designer closet, I had to dress like a clown!”

Nick and Styx turned their attention to her, trying to stifle their laughter; she was fuming already, trying to fit her long hair inside the wig, wearing black and white patterned harem trousers under a bright orange, loose silk top with leopard print flats.

At the insistence of the owner of the boutique, who also happened to be the lady on the cashier, they had to wear the clothes that were on display in the boutique’s window. Nick wasn’t sure if the owner was doing it as a favor for brightening up her dull day or as a punishment for nearly giving her a stroke. He just couldn’t figure out Italians.

He placed his own black, long-haired wig on his head. Nodding to Styx, who put on the sunglasses and the fake beard, and looking to see if Diamond was ready, he checked himself out in the mirror one last time. “Let’s get the hell out of here, clowns.”


± ± ±


“Finally!” Diamond sighed, once they got into their hotel room, desperate to take off the wig. “I thought we’d never make it!”

They had escaped the boutique without a problem; there had been no traces of the Feds on the street. Deciding it would be better to split up, the three agents had all taken different directions once they hit the main street. The Feds had separated too, each one guarding a different end of the street, but with the help of their disguises – which was one of the perks of being in Milan; everyone was so trendy and fashion-forward that nobody looked weird in their eyes – they had slipped right under the Feds’ noses.

“Check this out,” Nick grinned, as he plopped down next to Diamond on the bed and took out his cell phone, dialing the number he now knew by heart. He was going to miss making these prank calls once the mission was over.

“H-“

“TOMMY BOY!!!”

“Carter,” the federal agent replied calmly.

“Ah, I feel honored that you recognized my voice immediately this time.” Nick chuckled; he loved doing this. “What a nice little encounter we had today, didn’t we? If only you could be civilized enough to just have a decent conversation instead of running around the streets, then we might be able to understand each other.”

“We’re on your tail, Carter,” Tom hissed through clenched teeth.

“Yet, on the wrong tail. You still don’t know your enemy, I see,” Nick said in his sing-along voice. “Tell me, Tommy Boy, do you know your enemy?

“Go on and mock me, for all I care. You have so little time left. Did you start to feel my breath on your neck?”

“The breath of a Fed as blind as a bat!” Nick’s face lit up. “It has a ring; you hear it, Tommy Boy?! Next time around, when you’re on guard, take a second look at the long, black-haired dude walking past you with a bright green scarf and blue suede shoes. Adios, amigos!!”

“FUCK!!”

Nick shut down the phone, chuckling to himself. “Ah, I love messing with the Feds!”

Adios, amigos is Spanish, Nick,” Diamond stated, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever. It was still so much fun!”

Styx emerged from the bathroom, having changed back into his own clothes, with his phone ringing in his hand. “It’s Jay calling,” he said before answering. “Yeah, boss?”

“Put me on speaker,” Jay’s voice commanded on the other side of the line. Styx placed the phone on the vanity, doing as he was told.

“I’m in Japan right now-”

“Aren’t you a jetsetter, Jay?” Nick snickered, still too hyped up from his prank call.

“00Carter, LISTEN. We left Columbia and just landed in Japan to search for the next clue, but up until now, we’ve seen that the clues and the crimes don’t match. We find a clue, we go to the place, but it never leads to the crime scene. She’s fucking with us. But I really do think these clues will take us to something solid.”

“Or I better go and get myself handcuffed by the Feds right now,” Nick mumbled to himself.

“Dude, Carter, I have awesome hearing, even through the phone. Consider this a warning!” Styx snickered softly and received a smack on the shoulder from Nick. “Anywho, I was thinking about our little encounter with the thief back in France-”

“Di-Crapio,” Nick hissed under his breath.

“CARTER! I’m getting tired of this, and let me tell you, I’m not in my best mood when I’m jetlagged! So what the hell was I saying? Oh yeah. I was playing the encounter over again and again in my head, and I realized that she had mentioned going to Italy while she was talking with Vitruvian. Saying that she was going to head there next after France for a small business/pleasure trip. And the next thing we knew, she’d stole Da Vinci’s notebook from Milan.”

“Did she say anything about going to another country, Jay?” Diamond asked, caught up in Jay’s story.

“I was just coming to that. Before Vitruvian and the lady thief started flirting-” Nick made a barfing noise, and Diamond rolled her eyes, before giving her attention back to Jay. “-we were looking at the glass pyramid outside the Louvre, and she said she was planning to travel to Egypt soon and quote ‘would love to hold in her hands a piece of Egyptian history’ unquote.”

“So she’s dumb enough to tell us her next crime scene? What thief in her right mind would do something like that?”

“I have no idea, Carter, but she’s playing a cat and mouse game with us. She likes the thrill of being chased, I guess.”

“So Egypt it is, then, huh?” Diamond stated, looking rather disappointed. She was so ready to take a hot bubble bath with a glass of Italian wine. Accompanied by Nick, preferably.

“Positive, Diamond. Anyway, I gotta go. Make sure you catch the next plane to Cairo. We don’t have a minute to waste.”

“Alright, boss,” Styx said.

“Adios, amigo!”

“Nick, it’s Spanish!”


± ± ±


Agent Jay rubbed his temples with his index fingers, after hanging up. “You’re giving me a headache, Carter. A friggin’ headache,” he muttered under his breath.

He wasn’t trying to threaten Nick when he’d said he was jetlagged and not in the best mood. Agent Jay truly hated suffering from jetlag. And yet again, there he was, back on the other side of the ocean, losing count of the countries he’d been to in the past few days. He didn’t even know the exact date or time zone he was in, for God’s sake. All he knew now was that it was daytime, in Japan.

It was, of course, another indecipherable clue that had lead them all the way from Columbia to the heart of another country very, very far. Japan, he thought inwardly, resting his head against the cold window of his hotel room on the thirty-second floor. Buildings, buildings with uncountable number of floors, buildings whose shadows were falling onto each other. Buildings which made you feel like the smallest, tiniest creature out there. Buildings, made by mankind, yet which looked otherworldly.

He had no idea what the latest clue was talking about; South American literature was not his thing. Yet Opal was fascinated to see that the latest clue they had deciphered belonged to the famous novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez. “Love in the Time of Cholera!” Opal said, her eyes sparkling with excitement, “the most romantic book I’ve ever read in my entire life!” It looked like their felon didn’t specifically prefer a genre when it came to leaving traces behind her, for God knows whatever reason. Partly because on his unbearable headache and partly because of his mixed feelings about being in Japan, Jay had left Opal and Vitruvian alone to trace the next clue.

He had one place and one place only in his mind to go.

After two stops, three changes of metro lines, and a fifteen-minute cab ride, he stopped the car in the middle of a deserted road. Paying the cab driver a couple of extra bucks and ordering to wait for him, he got out and looked around at his surroundings.

A wreckage of bricks and concrete, basically; some walls managing to stand, still resistant to time, but, in total, nothing to remind of the outstanding building that had once risen just where he stood. The building which was the foundation of the organization he was a part of. Their home. The original headquarters of Himitsu Takana. K and Grasshopper had started their careers here, as well the notorious 007. Jay had only known the place from the pictures, the videos that were saved after the explosion, and from K’s memories.

It was quite tragic, when he thought about it thoroughly – an organization rising up from its ashes (thanks to K, of course) on the other side of the world, leaving its roots behind. He stood still for a moment, paying his respects to the fellow agents who had lost their lives for the sake of a more peaceful world.

Interrupted by a sudden buzz on his left hip, Agent Jay groaned. Whoever was on the phone better have important information to report.

“What now?” he grumbled into the phone, not checking the identity of the pager.

“And good afternoon to you, too, Agent 003.”

“Do you know where I am, K?”

“I know, but I have good news-“

“Do you know where I’m standing right now, K?” Jay questioned again. “And why do you sound so happy?”

“Because we have a face and a name.”

Agent Jay was caught off-guard, forgetting to inform him he was standing right on the foundations of HimTak. “Of the book thief? How is that possible?”

“I’m gonna keep it short. We got a visual of her, you know, so I decided to send the image to some of the major media corporations around the world. Turns out, our little book thief was already quite popular in the old continent.”

“Europe?” Jay was confused.

“We got an immediate response from Denmark, the thief’s home country. Apparently, she was quite popular back there as well.”

“Give me the profile.”

“Tanja Copenhagen-“

“Copenhagen?” Jay couldn’t help but let out a snicker. “Tanja Copenhagen, from Denmark?! Are we sure this is her real name and not another alias?”

Jay could hear his superior’s soft chuckle on the other side of the line. “I know, that was my first reaction when I heard the name. But they faxed me her ID, and looks like it’s her real name.”

“Fair enough.”

“I have more to share, hang on. It’s also known that she worked for the Denmark National Library back in the day, which explains her fetish for books and how she could get into the security system in the Library of Congress. She has extensive knowledge about the backdoors of libraries, and from the looks of it, she had plenty of time to practice while working in Denmark.”

“Do we have any information about why she keeps stealing precious books all around the world?”

“Not really. Her former employers said she was a brilliant employee, always treating the books with care and incredible devotion. Great at archiving, knew most of the books by heart, and so on. Earned herself the nickname ‘Walking Database’ for her extensive knowledge.”

“Who would have thought loving the books could be a crime?”

“It becomes a crime when you start stealing some of the most valuable ones and impersonating other people to blame for your thefts.”

“Fair enough.”

“What’s the status on the latest clue?”

Jay sighed, rubbing his hand slowly across his forehead. “Opal and Vitruvian are working on it.”

“You better join them. Looks like they’ve got a lead on that. Just got the memo.” K hesitated before continuing. “And Jay, you won’t find any trace in the old HQ. The place is torn apart.”

Jay rolled his eyes. Did K always have to know everything?


± ± ±


“What do we got?” Jay asked, the minute he approached Leo and Opal, now sitting at the bar of their hotel.

“We’ve found the next clue, Jay,” Opal said, her eyes sparkling. She was holding a piece of paper in her hands delicately, like it was the most precious thing. She placed the paper in front of Jay for him to take a look at it.


Nösrychb anihq Vuha Fpkg'kfk
Ceyndov'b ilq ehtsha cbşo bqih vugkce
cx hdiinenq, govlo.

Iqinnhnq ahe lçleyn, emşinp nndyqml, gkhahcq çlrhha
eb hqne iqp lchoeb cndvokny rhtpce,
aw akinddni, fw anddnq govlo.

Ahuhdrle ni ahqhhcql, iqs nhpa açlmhfqmd,
khy nyle lepfele ldrckh awhhwğwkv,
ax kâebq govlo....

Kgşfhha iqp cğbç aqio qne eb lüp
eb iqt lslck boiq ahsneşçeqmdn,
av phtsyq iqvos...D



Jay looked at the paper. “Am I supposed to understand this?” He took a second glance at the writings. “They don’t even form a sentence.”

“Because it’s a poem,” Leo interrupted, pointing the first paragraph. “This is the longest clue we’ve ever gotten up until now, and it’s in sections.”

Jay turned his attention back to the piece of paper, studying the letters carefully.

“It’s Playfair,” Opal burst, unable to hold herself until Jay was finished examining. “Playfair, the cipher that was used in this clue. I recognized it immediately.” She looked down sheepishly before continuing. “It was one of the most interesting ones, for me, at least. I wrote a research paper about it back in college.”

“So what is this Playfair?”

Already eager to share all her knowledge, Opal started to tell. “Playfair is a digraph substitution cipher, mainly. It was founded back in the nineteenth century by Charles Wheatstone. The cipher uses a five-by-five table containing a key word or phrase. The system goes like this: for example, the letter S is removed from the alphabet, and an H takes its place in the text that is to be encoded. It’s not commonly used anymore, though, because any modern computer software can solve it in a few minutes.” She patted her laptop. “We only need to find which letters were used and what the keyword is.”

“Her intelligence scares me,” Leo piped up.

Nodding, Jay had another question in mind. “Do either of you have any idea what those letters could be? Or the keyword?”

Leo shook his head. “We’ve been racking our brains, but none of the things we came up with worked.”

Opal scratched her head slowly, her eyes fixed on the paper. “I know we’re missing something; we’re not seeing something here…” she mumbled. “Nineteenth century… Wheatsone… Playfair. It was used for the Cuban Missile Crisis… JFK used it back in the negotiations with the Soviets… I GOT IT!”

Startled, both Leo and Jay turned their attention to Opal, who was now scribbling something on another piece of paper. “It has to be this one.”

Jay glanced the paper. “J to F, and Kennedy as the key word?”

She nodded. “It was used by John F. Kennedy in 1962, during the Cuban Missile Crisis, for their negotiations with the Soviets to remove the missiles…” She turned to her laptop and started typing vehemently. “… and ENTER.”

Her face beamed with happiness when she looked at the results. “There you go, gentlemen.” She turned the laptop around for the other two agents to see.


Dörtnala gelip Uzak Asya'dan
Akdeniz'e bir kısrak başı gibi uzanan
bu memleket, bizim.

Bilekler kan içinde, dişler kenetli, ayaklar çıplak
ve ipek bir halıya benziyen toprak,
bu cehennem, bu cennet bizim.

Kapansın el kapıları, bir daha açılmasın,
yok edin insanın insana kulluğunu,
bu dâvet bizim....

Yaşamak bir ağaç gibi tek ve hür
ve bir orman gibi kardeşçesine,
bu hasret bizim...



“What language is that?” Leo asked. “Nothing I’ve come across before.”

Turning around the laptop towards herself again, Opal typed more. “I should have known.” She smirked.

Jay eyed Leo, before leaning over the table to take a look at the screen. “Turkish?”

Opal nodded. “The cipher was used to remove the missiles in Turkey after the crisis. It only makes sense that she put the clue in Turkish.” She looked from Jay to Leo. “Pack your bags, guys. We have another long flight ahead of us.”


± ± ±