The disturbance among the usual laid-back chatter of the Pokemon Center came from the entrance. Six men clad in light blue colors stood shoulder to shoulder, each brandishing a rather imposing machine gun. The guns alone were a rare enough sight, given their worldwide ban-- much less a disturbance of such peace in a Pokemon Center.
A number of trainers instinctively reached for their belts to unlatch a Pokeball, promting each of the guns pointing straight at them. "If even one of those Pokeballs opens, we will spray the entire area in it's direction with bullets!" This warning came from the frontmost man of the group, his body draped with his long blue hair.
"What do you want?" The nurse at the center's desk asked.
"We're here for money," the blue-haired man replied, walking forward and pointing his gun in warning at the various people at either side of the room.
"Our Pokemon Center is a non-profit organization! We have no money to give you!" The nurse spoke back sternly, leaning forward on the desk.
"Oh, don't you worry. You're just hostages. Have you called the police yet? We're eager to make our demands."
As if on cue, the tense silence gave way to police sirens, followed by the screeching of tires and the opening and slamming of doors, as police took position.
The remaining five men backed away from the door. Two men faced the trainers of either side of the room, while the remaining three along with the leader faced the door.
Three officers entered the sliding doors of the Pokemon center simultaniously.
"Ridoh gang. What is your business here?" The middle female officer called after quickly assessing the situation. The two male officers to her sides each held bullet-proof shields, and had their own guns ready.
"Twelve hours from now, I will be on the roof of this building, expecting a single Fearow to drop a briefcase containing precisely sixteen million of the global currency. This city is well-known for it's incredible wealth, and with all the big banks of the region centered here, I highly doubt such a meager amount would be hard to come by."
The grunt to the leader's right laid down a black briefcase and slid it over to the middle officer.
"And if we fail to meet your demands in time?" The officer asked.
The leader smiled. "Ren?"
The grunt who had slid the briefcase looked around the room, and laid his eyes on the youngest person he could find on his side of the room; a silver-haired man likely around 18 years old. "You. Come over here."
The silver-haired man glanced at the officer, who was biting her lip. "Follow his orders," she said, knowing what was happening next. The man walked slowly to the grunt who had been named 'Ren', who grabbed him abruptly by his black shirt, and held him facing outward, pointing his gun to his head.
"Each hour that passes, we will cut the life of one of the hostages here short, and we will start with this one," the leader said.
"...Understood," the officer said, her eyes focused on the silver haired man, wishing there was a way she could apologize. She backed slowly through the front doors, motioning her backup to leave.
"Nice hair, kid!" Ren said jokingly. "Hopefully the officer meets our demands. I'd hate to dirty your hair with blood!"
The leader spoke up clearly so that the entire center could hear him. "Listen up! We'd hate to have to kill anyone, but we will if anyone plans on being a hero today. As far as we know, everyone here is an innocent bystander. So, know your role, keep quiet, and follow the instructions my comrades are about to give you!"
Over the next 10 minutes, the grunts began barking orders to all of the hostages of the center. The entire room, including the nurse, was filed into one corner, that being the corner furthest from the stairs leading to the roof. Ren and the silver-haired man stayed next to the desk, per the leader's request, so that the officers who remained outside could see that their end of the bargain was being held up through the glass door.
"What's your name, kid?" Ren asked after about a half hour of silence. The young man had since been bound with rope and sat on the floor, while Ren sat criss-cross on the desk, looming above him. After a few seconds of silence, Ren spoke again, this time with a less playful and more unhappy voice. "Hey. Answer my question. You aren't in a position to be uncooperative, you know." The man remained silent.
Ren pressed the end of his gun to the man's head. "Answer me or I'll--"
"You'll do no such thing," the leader ordered. Ren jumped slightly at the order, before pulling the gun back to his lap. "He's a smart one. He knows that right now, he's the least likely to get killed," the leader mused. He walked over and kneeled down next to the man. "We know you can understand us. You followed our orders earlier. But... is it that you are mute?"
The all too familiar silence about the man was interrupted a few seconds later. "...No. I just consider it rude to ask someone else for their name when we don't even know yours." The voice was light, and was spoken with a mischievous tune to it. The young man grinned. The leader stood up, laughing. "A man of courtesy! Ha ha... You are right! You only know one of our names, and even then it was not in introduction! Very well... If I give you my name, will you grace us with yours?"
"Fair enough," the man spoke.
"In that case, my name is Kerry. And what might yours be?"
"I am known as Shoneah."
"Shoneah? What kind of name is THAT!?" Ren cackled.
"Quiet, Ren! Or should I say... Renaldo?" Kerry shot back, prompting Ren to cease laughing and growl.
"If I may ask a question?" Shoneah suddenly spoke.
"I don't see why not, though whether or not we can answer that is a different story," Kerry replied.
"I only recently arrived in the region, so I'm afraid I'm not up to date on what goes on here... What is it you fight for?"
"An honest and fair question, Shoneah!" Kerry grinned. "Our mission as the Ridoh Gang is to loosen the capitalist stranglehold on the population of the region by distributing money to everyone."
"So, you take from the rich, and return it to the poor. Is that correct?"
"Correct!"
"And this is why, rather than remove the money from the pockets of the trainers here, you preferred to make demands?"
"It's nice to know the world still turns out such well-educated young men! That is to say, you are correct, my young friend." Kerry pulled his hair back behind his ears. "Perhaps we can kill the next eleven hours in this manner. May I ask a question?"
"Why not? I'm stuck here, aren't I?" Shoneah rolled his eyes.
Kerry smirked. "In that case... I notice you are in a Pokemon center, and yet it appears you have no Pokeballs on your belt. Would you be willing to divulge me the reason for this?"
"Sharp eye. Yes... I have no Pokemon on my person. As a matter of fact, I am ashamed to admit I was completely wiped out by some nameless trainer a few miles out of town." Despite the story, Shoneah spoke this with a small hint of a grin on his face. "All of my dear friends are in recovery."
"I'm sorry to hear that! You seem to be a bright trainer. Were you outsmarted?"
"Overpowered. Enough about me... I have more questions," Shoneah said, changing the subject.
"Do ask away!"
The conversation between the two continued in spite of the tense silence about the center. Even from the far side of the room where all of the trainers and visitors were herded, the conversation could be heard.
Ren rested his head on his right hand, sighed, and nodded off to sleep.
---
"Hey. Ren. Wake up, sleepy-head," Kerry's voice barked.
"Ah? Um... sir!" Ren sat up straight, and readied his gun. "I was, um..."
"Yes, you were sleeping. That is of no concern-- it's time for the drop."
Ren hopped off of the desk, and pulled Shoneah to his feet. "Hee hee. Showtime."
"Is your communicator on?" Kerry asked, flipping a switch on his small watch. Ren followed suit with his own. Shoneah had only just realized that the gadgets didn't actually tell time. "I'm going up top now. If even one of those policemen takes a step beyond their cars, let me know, and make sure to remind them of the precarious position of this young man."
"Affirmative." The two nodded to each other, before Kerry broke from the group and ran into a back hallway in the direction of the stairs. After a few minutes of silence, Kerry's voice came through Ren's watch. "I am now on the roof. We have 20 minutes until the twelve-hour mark."
The other four grunts in the room, who had since started sitting on the floor or found a chair after the wait had tired them out, all stood up and assumed the same confidant posture they had entered with. Ren stood close to Shoneah and held his gun to Shoneah's head. "I do hope your little conversation didn't make you assume you and him were buddies now..." Ren spoke.
"So tell me..." Shoneah spoke with a much more acidic tinge to it's usual softness, "How long have you known Kerry?" The question was whispered quietly.
Ren's eyes narrowed. "A few months. I was only assigned to his group about two months ago, however."
"Have you really spoken with him at length, or is he nothing more than your leader?"
"I know little about him. Nor do I care. My only concern is our mission."
"So... would you say you trust him?"
Ren pushed the tip of the gun slightly into Shoneah's head, as a warning. "What business is it of yours?"
"Ren... I say this as a warning. While you dozed off, I spoke at length with him. I got to know him. I have the power to see people's true intentions... And I don't believe Kerry is going to do anything for you, or for the mission."
"What do you mean? Kerry is a respected leader within our gang, and--"
"And he's about to personally handle sixteen million of the global currency. That's no small amount." Shoneah paused, and realizing Ren was not responding, he continued. "Sixteen million is enough to drive a man traitorous."
Shoneah felt the panicked breath of the man behind him. "And... you think he will leave us for dead while he takes the money and flies off?"
"He personally prepared that briefcase, did he not? He left his own Fearow in there to assist the police. Fearow is strong enough to carry a man to his destination, you know..."
Shoneah hear a quiet sniffle from the man behind him. The beginning of tears, no doubt.
Kerry's voice came through the communicator. "Ren, I see the Fearow in the distance. He is carrying the briefcase. ETA should be one minute."
Ren was silent. "Ren, do you copy?" Kerry's voice called back.
Ren lifted his wrist to his face, and pressed a button. "C... copy."
"There's still time, you know. You could run up there with the rest of your team to make sure he can't escape."
"I..."
"Do you want to risk prison while he gets away with all your money?"
Ren growled. "There's no time to think. You must act."
Ren sniffled quietly. "That... that traitor!" The sudden eruption was loud enough to garner the attention of the four grunts in the room. "Everyone, listen up! Kerry's about to take our money and leave us for dead! We must stop him!" The four grunts gasped, some asking each other if they had heard him correctly.
"There's no time to second-guess! Follow me!" Ren and the four Ridoh grunts darted for the hallway. "Chaaarge!" Was Ren's last words before the sound of the group stumbling and tripping.
The other hostages in the room began shouting happily before Shoneah's words cut through the air. "Scyther!"
The green scythe-armed bug Pokemon rounded the corner from the hallway and stood in front of the group of trainers. "Nobody moves or heads roll," was Shoneah's acidic order.
"Missy, can you hear me? I need you to untie me."
A ghost Pokemon with what appeared to be flowing hair floated through the wall and met Shoneah's frame. The Misdreavus untied the rope, prompting Shoneah to stretch his arms. "Assist Scyther. I have buisiness to do." Shoneah walked swiftly to the hallway, and rounded the corner to see the group of five grunts fast asleep. "Ah, what I wouldn't do without Hypnosis."
Shoneah located Ren's body, and he removed the communicator from his wrist.
"Ren, do you copy? The drop is made. I'm heading back down to have Kadabra teleport us home," Kerry's voice called.
"Not so fast, friend." Shoneah spoke back.
"What... who is this? Where's Ren!?"
"Ah, we spoke for twelve hours and you don't remember my voice? I'm offended! This is Shoneah, your new friend. And let's just say that the hunter has become the hunted." Shoneah grinned.
A large purple apparition rounded the corner from a nearby room. "Haun!" It spoke happily when it saw Shoneah, and grinned. It opened it's hands to reveal six Pokeballs.
"You... what did you do with Ren?" Kerry replied through the communicator as Shoneah took the six Pokeballs and fastened them to his belt. Three were currently empty, while the other three held the Pokemon that had not revealed themselves yet.
"It's quite the amusing story, actually! My Pokemon had just finished healing up and the rushed into the room. Long story short, if you make any wrong moves at this stage you'll have the death of five of your men on your conscience. Remember our discussion? You mentioned a few hours ago that you would never turn your backs on your comrades... No matter what." Shoneah removed his finger from the "send" button and turned to the Haunter that patiently stood before him. "Scyther and Misdreavus could use some backup. Mind playing crowd control?"
"Grr... What are your demands?"
Shoneah began dragging the five unconscious bodies into a nearby empty room with no windows.
"I'm going to send my Gardevoir up to the roof. Simply hand her the briefcase and all of it's contents. Meanwhile, I am leaving your friends in room 122A. I assume you're using an Alakazam to teleport? This should guarantee your escape, albeit with none of your prize money."
Shoneah pressed the small release button on the Pokeball's equator. Following a flash of light, the seemingly white-robed Psychic Pokemon stood before Shoneah. "Roof. Briefcase."
"...Understood," came Kerry's defeated voice. The Gardevoir floated up the stairway. Shoneah ran back to the front, and withdrew Scyther into his Pokeball. "Hypnosis and let's get going!"
Misdreavus and Haunter glared intently at the crowd, eyes glowing blue as everyone fell asleep.
Shoneah withdrew the two Ghost Pokemon and ran back down the hallway, ducking into the room just past 122A.
A simple voice called into Shoneah's head with Gardevoir's soft voice, and spoke, "Done."
The sound of rushed footsteps echoed down the stairway. Shoneah pressed the release button on his fifth Pokeball. "Sneasel, I need your quick hand!"
A small, blue, impish Pokemon appeared before him and nodded.
In nearly an instant, the blue figure of Kerry ran past the room Shoneah had ducked into; Sneasel reached out and plucked Kerry's Pokeball belt from his waist, and laid it on the floor behind him. "122A!" Kerry's voice. "Guys, I'm here!"
Shoneah ran down the hallway as Kerry rushed into the room to see his unconscious comrades; while Kerry came to the realization he didn't have his belt on, Shoneah tipped a heavy shelf containing all manner of medical supplied onto the door, barricading it.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Kerry! Enjoy prison!" Shoneah cackled amidst Kerry's frantic pounding on the wall. The silver-haired man bounded up the stairs.
---
12 o'clock came and the police were afraid to bust in. They could tell some manner of commotion was going on, but who was doing what they couldn't tell from their vantage point outside.
The female officer from earlier motioned their troops to move in, before starring in stunned awe at the sky.
A large orange bird with flaming wings took to the sky from the Pokemon Center's roof. Holding on to it's claw was a black-clad teenager with silver hair, who stared, smiling, at the officers below. He shouted one phrase, "122A!" before the large bird picked up speed and flew away.
---
Less than an hour later, the six Ridoh gang members were bound up and thrown into the back of a single Special Response Team detainment van. None of the hostages in the Pokemon Center remembered any of the events that had transpired, owing to the psychological effects of Haunter and Misdreavus having used Dream Eater after putting everyone to sleep. Nobody save for Kerry and the three police officers that had first enter even remembered the silver-haired man, but the image of him holding onto the claw of the legendary bird Moltres, clutching a briefcase, was seared into well over half of the police force's minds.
More mysterious than the man's ownership of such a legendary bird was the fact that nobody by the name of 'Shoneah' existed in the whole world.
As the head of investigations for the incident poured over papers and reports trying to peice the mystery together, the female police officer recieved an e-mail titled "Concerning the thief, 'Shoneah'".
She clicked it, alarmed, and read quietly to herself...
"Greetings, Officer Janette. It has come to my attention that your region has become victim to the mysterious thief, 'Shoneah'. I am a private investigator who has been following this man's actions for the past three years, and seek to bring him to justice for all of his crimes. I would be grateful to collaborate with your police force, and will share all the information I know about him.
Please talk it over with your superiors and reply soon. Do not risk your job for my sake.
Best regards,
Aurelius"