4.

The attack started without warning.

First came the distant sound of an explosion, from the direction of the harbour. Then another. And then another, and another, until there was a grand orchestra of detonations. Storm warnings from the distance and police sirens from everywhere soon joined the chorus, with the loudest coming from the very station Jessie and James were in.

"Reminds me of Chopper's last birthday party," said James, trying (and failing) to seem unconcerned. "All we need is screamo music, or rather we don't need it at all."

The steady roar of a helicopter filled the air and then faded out – the police were taking to the air. Above, the sounds of other choppers were providing a steady beat. In the distance, explosions began to reduce and were replaced with the discordant sound of massed Pokemon attacks.

"The police are presently preoccupied, and the presence of a guard for us prisoners is lacking." Jessie thought this through. "If… whatever is going on is so bad that we're being left unguarded…"

"Then we're sunk?"

"Then we've got a chance to escape."

"Well, I'm afraid stone walls do a prison make, as do iron bars a cage."

"Pick the lock? We still have the cutlery from lunch, they haven't had the chance to take it yet…"

James picked up the rusted, shoddy fork and gave it a good hard stare. It wouldn't be hard to bend one of the teeth, but picking a jail lock with that? This was hardly Black Arachnid equipment. Then again, with enough time and a lowest-bidder lock…

"May the forks be with us!"

It took ten minutes. Within those ten minutes, all the sounds had died down – all except the ones from the harbour. (Whoever was doing the bombing kept finding new things to explode) New sounds had replaced them, the sound of people and traffic that was being pushed back into the area. All sounds that would have distracted James, if not for Jessie yelling at him for taking so long. That was a distraction.

With a glorious 'click', the lock popped and the cell door swung open.

James bowed. "Tada!"

And then they had a few seconds of the storm sirens going off citywide before the whole building shook and water tore in to hit them.

They did not, could not, know about the Tentacool attacks on shipping. They hadn't known of the open season declared on the species. And they certainly hadn't known that, just as lunchtime had started, the Tentacool had stormed Porta Vista's harbour en masse.

They couldn't have known that the half hour of sound and fury was an attempt to stop the Tentacool from utterly destroying the harbour and everything else along the coastline. They hadn't known that the police were making a final effort to stop the attack by using "stun" poisons.

And the police couldn't have known that this would've turned the lead Tentacool into an obscene giant of a Tentacruel, which would have immediately caused a tidal wave to swamp the city.

If that evolution had happened further out to sea, then there could have been fair warning. As it was, the immediate death toll was in the thousands.

Pure instinct. It had to be. Between the walls buckling and her head sticking out of the water, everything was a blur. Even now, her head rang and she was unsure where – when, why – she was.

Glance to the left. There was the police office in the near distance, a large chunk of wall shorn off and the bottom floor underwater – she'd been swept out as the wall went. (She? Surely there was someone else, where was)

"James?! JAMES!"

Behind her, a feeble splashing – she turned round to see James, bruised and staring and a soaking mess, paddling slowly toward her.

"You don't want to know the state of your hair," he said, his voice a stunned, dull monotone.

Jessie pulled him into a fierce hug, and after a few seconds he found the strength to return it.

A few seconds of peace before their minds began to take stock of where they were. Of the flooded ruins. Of the screams and cries. Of the occasional floating corpse. Over the roars and the crashing coming towards them.

Then looked at the source of the commotion and wished they hadn't. That Tentacruel, tearing down whatever buildings remained standing, should not have existed. Even as they became dimly aware of the Tentacool, improbable lasers shooting out of their heads, their eyes and minds strayed back to the leviathan.

And eventually, they worked out:

"I think it's coming this way, James."

"That is an excellent summary of the facts, Jessie."

"Can you swim?"

"Let's find out."

For once, God smiled on them: after swimming down the remains of a street, their limbs screaming in pain and their minds screaming that it wasn't fast enough, they came across a motorboat full of guns and bazookas and ammo, with only an extremely ugly woman in the seat.

And after Team Rocket pulled themselves out of the water and into the boat, no old woman.

"Don't worry, you get used to the cold and I hear swimming is good for your thighs!" yelled Jessie at the spluttering hag, while kicking the motorboat into high gear. "This'll be a story for your grandchildren, you got robbed by the lovely, charming villains of Team Rocket!"

There was a brief, nerve-wracking moment as the boat had to speed towards the Tentacool so they could turn – lasers shot past them as a warning, but as they completed their turn and headed away, the Pokemon stopped firing.

"So as long as we're staying out of their way and don't seem a threat, we live," noted James. "Cowardice wins as always!"

"This wondrous world of weaponry and we can't wield any of it? Woe is we two!" said Jessie, allowing herself some cockiness now they were clearly safe.

"I've just thought of something: wouldn't there be a Pokemon Centre on higher ground? In case of floods? That'd be somewhere we can flee to, just in case you had no idea where we were going and of course you didn't."

"Point. Any port in Porta Vista!"

The motorboat sped on, both Rockets trying to ignore the continuing destruction behind them.

The Pokemon Centre was in chaos: emergency power, no police for crowd control, barely any communication infrastructure still functioning, and a thousand terrified people who had found safety but didn't know how long it would last. Team Rocket were able to slip in easily and pickpocket a working mobile phone.

The boss was out when they called, but a female admin worker – the voice sounded familiar; Wendy, was it? – was at the other end. Her first words were a stunned "You two are alive?"

"We're stubborn like that," replied Jessie. "Regardless: we need immediate evac."

"We have an evac team in the area already, but… well, there were nine other Rockets on business or vacation in Porta Vista at the time, and you're the only ones to have called in. We have to assume the rest are deceased or incapacitated."

"Where's the boss?"

"Flew out immediately…"

Jessie and James' hearts soared.

"…to secure our Pokemon Land theme park."

And then they fell again.

"Stay where you are, the chopper will meet you. And… while I'm here, are you ever going to pay me back for that smoothie?"

"Who are you?" Jessie suddenly realised this was a bad thing to say to the person who ran the evac team. "Because I want to make sure I pay back the right person! In fact, I'm going to steal some smoothies immediately after this call!"

"Smooth," punned James, continuing to eavesdrop.

Once the call had finished and an exchange of names had been made, it suddenly occurred to Jessie: "While we're stealing smoothies, shouldn't we steal some Pokemon too? We've got a boatload of guns outside, nobody could stop us! That's why God invented guns!"

James looked like he'd sucked on a lemon. "Now?"

"No time like the now!"

"Right, but…" He gestured at the walls, as if the outside could be seen through them. "Now? When there's… People are dead. People they might know."

She felt sick. She was a villain, a good one, the best of the baddest. She liked her job and didn't care about the people she stole from, and yet – and yet. She didn't know what came after "and yet", but there was something. Whatever it was, it said that stealing Pokemon now would be wrong. The wrong kind of wrong.

"If we see someone being a total jerk to a Pokemon, we can steal from them!" James gave a brief, overly large smile. "Only police, juries, and judges would disagree with that!"

"The chances of that are lower than a really low thing."

Damian had not been having a good day. He was trapped, he was angry, he wanted to go back to the mainland, he wanted to win some matches for once – why weren't his Pokemon doing better?! Did he need to dump some more like he did that Charmander?

Luckily, his Tangella was out – a swift kick to it made him feel better. Stupid thing.

To his side, he heard a man say "look, a really low thing!".

The helicopter was too large for two people, clearly meant for the other nine that wouldn't be coming. The paramedic onboard couldn't help but wince at the sight of Jessie and James.

"Don't worry soldiers, you'll be back at a base before you know it. You'll have a good story to impress the rookies with, eh?"

Jessie looked out the helicopter's window. In the distance, the Tentacruel still rampaged. "What about him?"

"The Maritime Defence Force has mobilised. Nobody knows why this attack happened, the monster might intend to attack other cities."

"Fun, fun, fun."

"Oh, is there anywhere to put these?" James held out a snapped belt with six Pokeballs attached to it. "Carrying them is a bore."

"Those are stolen?"

"That's kind of our job."

"You want through all that and you still thought of – you still managed to-" The paramedic broke off, looking stunned. "God. You're like no other Rockets I've ever seen. The dedication…"

"Well. That's why we warn people 'surrender now'."

The helicopter sped away from the carnage.