(Author's Note: I do not claim the contents of this Fan Fiction to be particularly original in any way--I have just always been enamored with the idea of the masked revolutionary, leading the people to resist their oppressors in the style of V for Vendetta, Code Geass, or even Batman. As you read you're likely to see influences from all three--and, most likely, more. At any rate, I've already said too much. Happy reading.)
Indigo Plateau, Eight Years Ago
Lance the Dragon Master, strongest of the Elite Four, stood tall. His fingers quivered as he reached down for his final Pokéball, knowing that it was all that stood between the world he knew and an impending hell. He would try--oh yes, he would--but even before he called forth his final weapon, his ace in the hole, he knew it was over. Over for him. Over for everyone.
Giovanni's lips were curled into an arrogant smile. He hadn't even broken a sweat, his suit stiff and spotless. The thing--the monster--floated in front of him, hovering just a few inches off the ground. Its body was covered in the undulating blue-black energy; it was the energy that would defeat easily one of the strongest Pokémon the Kanto region had ever seen.
"Dragonite… let's go."
The Pokémon could feel its trainer's hopelessness, and gave only a halfhearted howl as it sprang forth. For a moment it stayed in the air, accompanied by a few strokes of the wing, then slowly it sank to the ground. Wings folded, it faced the beast. The thing. The monster.
The Pokémon Giovanni called… Mewtwo.
"Your last Pokémon, no?" Giovanni said.
"As you know," Lance replied, a snarl in his voice.
Giovanni tossed his hands, unconcerned. "Your move, then, Lance."
Lance narrowed his eyes then flung his shaking arm forward.
"Dragonite, take to the air. Then… Hyper Beam."
Dragonite did as it was told, rocketing into the air. It positioned itself, drew back, then spat the massive, bone-crushing beam down toward Mewtwo; the air around the beam sizzled and cracked, and the attack left a searing streak in the darkening sky.
"Barrier," Giovanni said.
Mewtwo trust a paw forward, and a tall rectangle of the glowing blue-black energy sprang to life. It floated just a few feet in front of Mewtwo; the Pokémon did not move an inch as Dragonite's Hyper Beam slammed directly into it. The barrier took the entire attack--no signs of weakening. Normally, Lance would have been outraged, having broken several Barrier attacks with Dragonite's Hyper Beam before, but nothing about the beast Pokémon Mewtwo surprised him now.
"Is that your best?" Giovanni asked, glancing down at his fingernails.
"Dragon Rage!" Lance said, ignoring his opponent.
"Let's not," Giovanni said as Dragonite swept back once more, preparing its attack. "Mewtwo, stop it with a Psychic attack."
Without moving a muscle, Mewtwo produced a new wave of blue-black energy that completely engulfed Lance's Dragonite. The Pokémon howled as it attempted to free itself, but soon it became completely immobile.
"Send it for a ride," Giovanni said. "But not into the Pokémon League building… I have plans for that after I've dispatched Mr. Lance."
Dragonite's frozen form began to dip downward; then, with a sudden burst of speed, slammed violently to the ground. Before a second passed, Dragonite had shot back into the air--fifty feet, perhaps more. Then again it plummeted, crashing into the earth.
"Enough!" Lance shouted. "Stop… just stop! You win, Giovanni! Release my Pokémon!"
Giovanni considered. "Hm… No, that's not nearly enough. Keep going, Mewtwo."
Now Lance's entire body was shaking. "You…!!"
Lance flung himself at Giovanni, reaching him in several furious steps. He aimed a punch, but was stopped cold in his tracks. The same wicked energy that had held his Dragonite now gripped him. He stood before Giovanni, fist just inches away from its target--the Rocket leader's head.
"Thank you, Mewtwo," Giovanni said. "Lance… that wasn't a very wise move, now was it? Good thing I had Mewtwo here to stop you, or you might have done something you would have most certainly regretted later on. The question is now, what to…?"
Somehow, Dragonite was back on its feet; Mewtwo had to release the dragon Pokémon from its power to stop Lance's punch. Now it dove into Mewtwo, tail and claws flying, howling with a bloody rage. Mewtwo was caught in the swarm of attacks, and dust flew as the two Pokémon tussled, heaving and rolling every which way.
"Teleport!" Giovanni barked, flustered for the first time that evening. "Then Psychic! Stop that weak, pathetic thing!"
With Dragonite tiring, Mewtwo was able to separate itself and teleport away. Just before Dragonite was trapped again by Mewtwo's Psychic, it howled one last time--howled so that Lance could hear. It was a message. A request, from Pokémon to trainer.
Run.
Lance did as ordered. Once released from his state of paralysis, he hooked Giovanni hard in the jaw, then turned tail and ran. Giovanni staggered back, taking a second to regain his composure. He tore as his waste, calling forth every Pokémon in his arsenal. He could give no orders--Lance had broken his headset with his punch, destroying the speaker--but he roared at the top of his lungs, to both minion and Pokémon alike.
"STOP HIM!!"
Rocket Viridian Compound, Day 1 - 7:44 PM (Present Day)
There were some pluses to Dirk's job, the first being that he was not a grunt. "Far from it, actually," he would tell anyone who was vaguely interested. His official title was Sub-Executive, which was a mouthful, but much better than the lowly, monosyllabic "grunt." Better, too, was the fact that he could order the grunts around. There were a few restrictions, yes, and a handful of things he had to clear with the Executives before doing, but it was better than nothing. Especially because he could order the grunts to do things like fetch his coffee, which he had on several occasions.
One thing Dirk did not like about his job was his commander--the Executive of his branch, the eighteen-year-old whelp known as Blue. Before joining Team Rocket, Blue had been the official champion of Kanto, having defeated the Elite Four shortly before Rocket takeover. Giovanni had been prepared to take him out as well, if necessary, like he had done to every other powerful trainer of Kanto, but Blue had accepted Giovanni's suggestion to join Team Rocket rather than face the alternative
But Dirk digressed. Blue was a powerful trainer, to be sure--second only to Giovanni, come to that--but he was eighteen. Eight. Teen. Dirk hated it. He did not enjoy being bossed around be an annoying teenager with a nasally voice. Worse, it was Blue's job to train the new recruits in the Viridian Gym--since Blue didn't actually do anything to Dirk's knowledge (aside from attend those dumb, secret meetings he went to with the boss and the other five Executives), the entire weight of the task fell upon Dirk's shoulders.
It was for that reason that Dirk had low prospects for what was about to occur. Blue had summoned him, and that usually meant that he wanted to assign Dirk some useless, menial task. Usually the task was specific, too, which meant that Dirk had little discretional authority. Irksome, considering discretional authority was what kept Dirk out of the funny farm.
Two grunts were waiting in front of Blue's quarters when Dirk arrived. They were stone-faced, unsmiling, and still as statues. Dirk strode up to the door, brushing aside a stray strand of dirty blond hair that had fallen across his face. At that point the door usually slid aside, allowing Dirk entrance into the room beyond. This time, however, the door stood still.
Dirk coughed into his right glove.
The two grunts did not move.
"So," Dirk began conversationally, "is he… going to let me in, then?"
No response.
"The door's not opening," Dirk pointed out.
Still no response.
Dirk growled, losing patience. "Does he subtract a few hundred from your pay every time you utter a word, or what?"
"The door will open when Executive Blue is ready for you," Grunt One replied.
Dirk pursed his lips. "He called me down, like, a half-hour ago. I was late getting here, even! How could he not be ready?"
No response.
Dirk bit lightly at his lip. "Right." He cast his eyes about the entrance hall, drumming his fingers on the side of the uniform. "Say," he began, suddenly inspired, "you don't think he's…?" He made the motion with his fist. "You know? I mean, he's eighteen, after all."
Not even a twitch.
"Ugh," Dirk said. "Barrels of fun, you two."
He waited a moment longer and was rewarded with a soft beep that issued from inside Blue's quarters. A second later the door slid open.
"Executive Blue will see you now," Grunt Two said.
Dirk rolled his eyes. "And Sub-Executive Dirk will be happy to oblige him."
Blue quarter's had been originally built as an area where trainers could battle their Pokémon. It was, in fact, where Giovanni's Pokémon used to do battle back when he was the Gym Leader of Viridian City. Where Dirk stood, mere days before the completion of Project Mewtwo, Giovanni had lost his badge to Blue. Mere days after completion of project Mewtwo, he had defeated Red, the boy supposedly destined to dispatch Team Rocket. After losing, Red had not been seen or heard of since.
Funny that the people still clung to Red. A boy, not eleven-years-old, who had disappeared over eight years ago… how silly. There were rumors that Red had beaten Blue at every turn back in the day, and everyone, part of Team Rocket or not, knew that Red and defeated Giovanni of two separate occasion prior to Project Mewtwo. But that was no reason for them to hope that Giovanni would ever fall--with Mewtwo, he would never be beaten.
"Dirk," Blue said, by way of introduction.
"Mr. Executive, sir," Dirk droned.
Blue turned to face him. He hadn't changed much over the years, still with his spiked, coppery-brown hair and arrogant sneer. He wore the Executive uniform well, and had filled out since his days as the preteen Champion. He was taller, too--taller than Dirk himself, which, now that Dirk thought about it, was another annoying thing to add to the list.
Blue smirked. "I have a surprisingly important mission for you, Dirk. I hope you're up to it."
"Odd," Dirk said. "I have never known you to hand out important missions to your subordinates."
"Noticed, have you? How observant."
"I try, sir. What's the occasion?"
"The occasion," Blue said, "is that I will be leaving soon. Our master has assigned me a task that is more important than the one I'm about to give to you."
Dirk nodded. "Naturally."
"So…" Blue paused, pulling lightly at his collar. "You're familiar with my grandfather, Professor Oak?"
"Of course," Dirk replied. "Old man still alive?"
Blue sniffed. "Unfortunately."
Dirk blinked, but said nothing. Giovanni had done a fine job with Blue; he hadn't been a particularly nice kid right out of the gate, but time as Team Rocket's second-in-command had transformed him into an unfeeling block of ice, much like his master. Dirk often had to dig deep for just a small shred of humanity.
"So what of your grandfather, than?" Dirk prompted.
"He's being too noisy," Blue replied. "Too vocal. He's written one too many articles about how the state of Kanto has degraded under Rocket rule, and my master's finally had enough. Silence the old man in whatever way you wish, but make sure to cover your tracks. We don't want him becoming a martyr."
Dirk saluted smartly. "You can count on me, sir."
And he honestly could. There weren't many things Dirk enjoyed, but silencing people was certainly one of them.
Cerulean City, 8:22 PM
A single figure stood at the edge of town, a plain white mask in hand. Though flat-chested, the figure had the apparent build and elegance of a female. Dressed almost all in black, she wore a tight-fitting suit with a scarlet bow tie. A cape with matching scarlet trim fell from her shoulders, ending just above the soles of her long, narrow boots. On her head perched a tweed trilby hat, angled slightly over shoulder-length brown hair. Gloves covered her hands, and she wore a thick belt, six Pokéballs hanging at her waste.
Something within her garb buzzed softly. She withdrew a small, hand-held radio and brought it to her ear.
"Yes?" she said.
"It's Bill," came the voice on the other end, rough through the slight static but still think with an accent characterized by its southern twang. "This is… Scarlet, or whatever yer callin' yerself?"
"Yes. I am Scarlet."
"Right." There was a pause. "So, 'bout yer little request…"
"Did you do it?"
There was another pause before Bill responded. "Look… I dunno how you found out 'bout my, uh, sentiments toward Team Rocket, but… I don't particularly like dangerous work, you know? Maybe it'd be better--"
"That's not what I want to hear from you, Bill."
"I know, but…"
"I can keep you safe."
"You sure 'bout that? 'Cause Team Rocket--"
"And even if I couldn't," Scarlet said, voice firm, "do you really want to wait around, just hoping someone else with your technical skill--one who will take the risk--stands up and defies Team Rocket? You don't like how they run things; you don't like how the world is slowly decaying around you. Now is your chance to do something about it."
Bill sighed. "I had the same thoughts ma'self, dear."
"Well then?"
He sighed again. "I got what you need to know."
Scarlet closed her eyes and smiled. "Thank you."