Smoke, catching sparse shafts of moonlight, trailed silvery lines through calm night air. A flash of red appeared at the base of the snaking cloud, the faint sound of deep inhalation accompanying the glow. Another puff of smoke was expelled with a steadying breath, a gloved hand moving the cigarette away from the smoker's lips, revealing little more than the filter left. With a crisp flick of the finger the figure discarded the spent cigarette, and an unwrapped stick of gum was folded between parted lips. The familiar flavor of spearmint caressed his taste buds, dissipating the ashy residue in his mouth. Satisfied, the figure pulled up a crimson bandana to cover the lower half of his face, hands drawing the knot tight. From atop his forehead came a pair of tinted goggles, set snuggly about the eyes, allowing adequate sight in the dimness of night. A second bandana, nearly identical to the first, save for the vague likeness of a black 'M' front and center, covered the top of his head.
"Showtime," the figure uttered in a hushed tone, eyeing a towering concrete barrier several paces away.
Resting a hand against the trunk of a nearby tree, the other reaching back to pat a small bag slung over shoulders, the figure gazed skyward. Branches intermingled with leaves to create a thick overhead canopy, several prime offshoots near enough to be mounted easily. With little more than a hop, the male grasped hold of a hefty branch, hoisting himself upwards. Leaves rustled as the figure's added weight landed squarely on the limb, thick-soled shoes shifting slightly to balance the load. Sufficiently stable, the individual rose to a crouch, peering through the foliage at the wall before him. Edging forward with eyes panning the length of the barricade for cameras, fingers flexing in anxious anticipation, he reached the extent of the branch.
'Time to start a war,' he mused grimly, feeling his leg muscles tense for the leap, certain of no recording devices in proximity.
Wind lightly grazed exposed skin as he sailed through the cool night air, narrowly clearing the top of the wall, descending rapidly. Little more than a muffled thud sounded when he landed, the balls of his feet pressing deeply into the soil, body thrust towards the barrier. Hidden within the shadow of the wall, he paused, eyes closed as he recalled the memorized layout of the surroundings. Reopened eyes gazed upon a lengthy stretch of open lawn. Beyond the lush grass loomed the large outline of a building, the interior visibly dark through several windows. Dashing through the moonlit courtyard, the figure slid to a halt, flattening himself against the building within reach of a door. As his hand extended for the door's knob bright light spilled from within the building, illuminating the surrounding area in an ethereal glow. A faint click snapped, followed closely by the pop of an opening latch. Swinging inward, the door revealed the face of a young man, his eyes lackadaisically sweeping the courtyard. "You must be seeing things," the young man teased an unseen accomplice with a chuckle as he retreated into the building, lock reset behind him.
A pent-up breath leaked out in a slow hiss as the figure in the shadows watched the light flick off. Reluctantly, he slipped the bag from his shoulders, planting it at his feet while tugging at the drawstring. The unexpected tenants posed a host of threats that went unmentioned in the intelligence report, a snort of annoyance emanating from the masked figure, hands digging around in the backpack. Reemerging from the shadowed depths, the gloved hands grasped a pair of objects, bringing them close enough for inspection. Moonlight glinted dully off the objects, allowing the male to scrutinize the pistol in his right hand, a full clip of ammunition in his left. With practiced ease he loaded the magazine into the sidearm, chambering a round and checking the safety before tucking it under an arm. Pocketing a second clip, bag slung back over a shoulder, the trespasser retrieved his weapon. On the ball of a foot he pivoted towards the door, coming to look at the locked knob. 'Now to see if they screwed up more than just the intelligence,' the individual quipped in minor annoyance, eyeing a key plucked from his pant's pocket.
The lock responded with a satisfying click at the turn of the key, door slowly opening to reveal a short corridor. Nary a soul was within sight leaving the intruder to wonder at the degree of the intelligence's error as he moved swiftly down the hall. At its end, the hall opened into a room of immense size, an equally impressive pool filling a majority of the floor space. Reflected moonlight shimmered against the walls in waves of blue, a soothing ambiance encompassing the surroundings. Oblivious to the tranquil scene around him, the male darted left, heading towards the outer wall. Rubber squealed against tile flooring as the trespasser came to a sudden halt, causing a wince to twist his face. 'Try not to blow this,' he scolded himself mentally, the bag once again falling from his shoulder.
Straps resting in the crook of his elbow, using his free hand to rummage around the contents of the backpack, his hand cradling a brick-shaped item as it reemerged. Affixing the object to the wall, a light blinking to life at the flip of a small switch, the figure jogged away. As he paused to repeat the process the overhead lights burst on, flooding the room with powerful illumination. Goggles reduced the sting of the sudden shift in lighting, but the realization of his discovery sent a chill up his spine. Quickly finishing the task, he spun on his heels to spy the opposition, a small group of people appeared at the far end of the room.
"Magma!" a female voice yelled venomously from within the pack, identifying the allegiance of the invader.
From among the crowd strode a woman in her early 20's, fiery, shoulder-length hair sharply contrasting the blue she and the rest of her troupe wore. Her appearance startled the lone man.
"She wasn't supposed to be here, but, then again, neither was anyone else for that matter," he snarled quietly, fingers wrapping tighter around the grip of his gun.
The bag at his elbow hindered his motion, and certainly a clean shot was out of picture, but one wasn't necessary. Aimed in the group's general direction, the gun discharged a single round, its owner watching as one of the members yelped in pain and dropped to a knee. Disorder reigned and the cluster broke apart as its elements dove for cover, the pained screams of the wounded man adding to the rising din. The staccato chatter of automatic rifles ripped though the verbal commotion, aimless bullets tossing up plumes of water or pieces of tile as they worked their way towards the sole gunman. Feeling the situation grow more perilous with each passing moment, 'Magma' yanked his pack onto his shoulder, allowing him unimpeded use of his arm. Several rounds burst from his gun to keep the hidden foes honest, his weight shifting towards the exit for a quick escape. Spying a bullet striking the floor meager feet away, shards of tile bouncing off his charcoal colored pants, he decided to break for freedom. Growing more courageous, heads peered from their safety to find their target on the move, weapons moving to more suitable firing positions.
"Kill the bastard!" the woman's voice rang out again, her words having an evident affect on her comrades as the spray of bullets increased.
In a dead sprint the bandit neared the hallway with considerable speed, but the fired rounds were closing faster. With an audible grunt he strained for every ounce of speed his body could muster, exploding tile visible in his peripheral vision. 'Come ON!' he demanded of his legs amid the hailstorm of metal, his body scant feet from the entrance to the corridor.
One final lunge drew him within the relative safety of the hallway, a bullet clipping the sole of his trailing shoe, his leg jerking with the glancing impact. Unsteadied, he twisted to the floor, chest heaving. Muscles shivered in exhaustion as his head lulled back and forth, attempting to regain his bearings, finding the haze not yet having worn off.
"After him!" a new, masculine, voice bellowed, quickly putting a stop to the continuous firing.
Something audible, whether the screaming voice or lack of gunfire, stirred the fatigued man from his daze, snapping him to attention. Reaching for his open bag, toggling his gun to safe, he thrust the pistol into the sack. Digging out two more brick-shaped objects, he slapped one to each wall, both with light aglow. Before replacing the bag to his back, he withdrew the last of the items, clutching it tightly while forcing himself to stand. Thundering footsteps intensified as he eased into a jog, legs bemoaning the activity. The first pursuer arrived the moment gloved fingers gripped the doorknob, both men making eye contact for an instant, both realizing the necessary haste.
"Halt," the gun-toting man ordered in vain, his target yanking the door inward.
The masked man ducked through the opening, his counterpart lifting his rifle, chasing the intruder into the night with a flurry of bullets. Jerking shut the door, vibrations from bullets impacting the metal barrier causing the knob to quiver in his hand, the runner found himself back outside. Open terrain stretched out before him once again, the same wall presenting itself as an obstruction, both seemingly more parlous obstacles the second encounter.
'And that's why I have this thing,' he thought, flipping the held item's switch and hefting it once before heaving it towards the wall, 'bombs away.'
Twice bouncing, then rolling, it came to a rest at the base of the concrete structure, shadows hiding it presence. Sidestepping, a hand shoved into a pocket, his fingers encircled a metallic cylinder. With thumb and forefinger he twisted the cylinder's top, the twisted portion pulling away from its housing. Averting his eyes, thumb jamming down on the released plunger, the night roared with sudden activity.
Tongues of flame lashed out from the base of the wall as deafening booms cascaded in from all directions, a cloud of dust billowing out from where the device had landed. Shockwaves expanded like a stiff wind, bending the immediate foliage outward, clothing ruffling as anxious eyes peered into the cloud. Slowly the dust dissipated, a complete breach visible in the base of the concrete, earth cratered by the blast. "Well at least something went as planned," a wry grin on his lips as he remarked, starting off towards the hole.
Kneeling in exposed dirt, he began to wriggle through the fissure, ample clearance allowing rather unhindered progress. Clear of the barrier, hands brushing loose dirt from where it clung, the man allowed himself a final glance at the wall. A deep breath escaped from his lips as he turned away from the building, once again taking up a steady jog, a farewell crossing his mind, 'it was good seeing you too, Misty.'
Author's Notes: I don't own Pokémon, plain and simple. Also, a big thanks to dazdnconfusd730 for beta-reading for me.