Chapter 6
Interpol HQ, Mauville City, 12th December 2005
18:23
"Where you are going, watch. Always. If you here approaching footsteps, you must have a plan of attack. Pull off your gloves when handling stacks of paper. Human skin is sensitive enough to detect slight pressure changes. You can keep track of the exact number of sheets in your hands that way, lest you leave one behind. Yes, I'm serious. No, this is not something that should be disregarded as 'small talk.' Am I clear?"
"I... err, yes sir. It won't happen again..." A young investigator had collided with a charging Looker as she left the commissioner's office, and was now wondering who in Arceus's name spit in that guy's coffee this morning.
"Don't worry about it. The guy has the manners of a zangoose who just got thrown into a nest of seviper. And the tact to tell twenty five different reasons why that analogy was not wholly acccurate. Brilliant man though. Worked out the entire Team Galactic case in Sinnoh, the whole darn thing, planned their take down, and inflitrated them in a week. Probably has asperger's syndrome or something..." Her colleague enlightened.
"Mmm. probably. Now where is that NMR spectrum sheet? I had it just a moment ago..."
The commissioner of the Mauville police force shook his head as he saw one of Interpol's best berate a young investigator about how she should carry her files.
This isn't going to be easy...
And just as he finished that thought, Looker was right in front of him, back ramrod straight and excessively thick overcoat immaculate.
"Commissioner. After days of ventilation and the use of an assortment of gas sensors, the HazMat unit has declared that the museum is almost completely decontaminated. I should be able to continue investigations tomorrow. It is unfortunate we couldn't get there immediately after the attack, but I have a hunch that some crucial evidence still remains."
Well at least he's taking the time to talk slowly. Means he's in a good mood.
The commissioner straightened in his seat, and prepared to tell Looker the less than thrilling news.
"That's all well and good but I didn't call you up for another status report. Unfortunately, higher forces with string pulling powers forced my hand. The Hoenn League wants in on the investigation." The commissioner sighed. "Gym leaders will be assigned to help you out. "
If the agent had heard that last statement, he certainly did not show it. Looker, ever stoic, kept his boss in a state of anxiety as to when and how he'll crack. Interpol and police departments in general had always had a strained relation with the Leagues. The Team Aqua and Magma fiasco only compounded the problem, with the entire Hoenn police force stumped and humiliated when it took little more than minor League intervention to completely shut down the eco-terrorists. And Looker wasn't not icy to just about anyone, let alone League guys.
The commissioner continued, "Listen, the last thing I want is some uppity pokémon whisperer messing around with our work. But I haven't got a say in the matter. All gym leaders have forensics training, and they'll be accompanied by League experts, so they won't be complete deadweight. Wattson will help with the interrogation of that captured magneton. Winona, Fortree leader will be joining you at the museum tomorrow. She'll be taking on the brunt of the investigations for the League. As of tomorrow morning, she's your partner."
Looker replied this time, the courtesy to speak clearly long gone. "The Fortree leader of gyms?! Her gym got attacked soon after the museum. The place is still being decontaminated by HazMat units, as we speak. She should still be hospitalised."
"She apparently got released early. Anyways, her perspective could shed some light on the case. Just remember. She's your partner now. I know you have a tendency to do it, but don't-"
The doors swung open once more, the space where Looker had stood mere moments earlier now completely vacant, save for the tiny sparkles of dust floating in the air.
The commissioner sighed. "-interrogate her."
Fortree Pokémon Centre, Fortree City, 12th December 2005
18:30
"Gru Ariaaaa"
Winona jolted awake at a nudge from her Altaria. Fatigue had crept up on her sleep deprived mind, and she found her head bowed awkwardly forward, whilst the rest of her body lay slouched in the seat she occupied. Groaning, Winona pulled herself up and looked around, trying to gain a bearing on where she actually was. The stark white interior of a hospital room greeted her. Her still foggy mind failed to recall what she was doing here until a soft feathered form on a bed, laying besides her Altaria, caught her attention. Winona sighed, reaching to pet her swellow's unconscious body whilst making a mental note to not fall asleep in your pokémon's medical ward during visiting hours again.
"Riaaaaa…." Altaria called teasingly at Winona's drowsiness.
"Yeah yeah. Hey, you're lucky you weren't roaming around outside your poké ball during the gas attack. If you were in a coma like Swellow, well I might've fallen asleep on you during visits. Your wings just look so comfy…" Winona smirked whilst prodding her Altaria's down with her finger.
"And you're too fidgety for me to do that if you're awake."
Altaria batted away Winona's finger.
"Well it's true…" She replied in a sing song manner.
Winona adjusted in her seat. With the fog in her mind clear, Winona looked down to her wristwatch, hoping she didn't waste too much time asleep. 6.30 pm, just hours before she had to fly back to Mauville.
Way too long.
Standing up, Winona realised that her drowsiness hadn't completely worn off. The gym leader almost stumbled into the bed her swellow was currently lying on before catching herself. The effects of sleep depravity returned and brought with them the haunting memories that taunted her whenever her eyes closed. The visions of the Orre uprising.
Winona stumbled once more.
"Grmmmuaa?"
"I'm…I'm alright. Just tired."
Altaria shrieked in defiance. The avian was not convinced.
"Ok, ok. It was those weird visions for a moment. It's nothing."
Altaria cooed thoughtfully, before sticking her head forward, urging Winona to continue. The gym leader knew she wasn't going to hear the end of this. Her altaria deeply cared for the wellbeing of Winona's entire team, and that included her. Winona fell back into her seat, squinting and rubbing at her brow.
"Yeah. I don't know why they keep popping up…I just…." She sighed. "What do you make of them?"
"Tarrrr…" Altaria cooed again, before chirping a rather teasing reply.
Winona was perplexed at the sudden snipe her Altaria made at her. "Meh. Maybe you're right. Maybe I am losing it. It was just so….real. Oh, and could that aerodactyl fly… I tell you, it beats your fluttering any day."
"Gruuuu… Ria-gruuuuu." Altaria puffs up her feathers in pride.
"Mmm. That is so true. My subconscious is pretty messed up. I mean, for me to imagine that an apex predator like an aerodactyl could ever outfly you? Impossible! In fact, how could anything outfly you? To even consider that any pokemon could match your incredibly woolly wings. Dispel the thought!"
Altaria hit her up the head with her wing, before humming a relieved answer once she realised Winona hadn't lost her good humour.
"Yeah yeah. Thanks anyways. Well, we really should be heading back. I need to fly over to Mauville soon, and I also have a few reports to read up on on the case."
Altaria made sure Winona stood up properly, helping her to the door.
"Good night Swellow," Winona called as she left the room.
Mauville National Museum, Mauville City, 13th December 2005
9:25
Winona flew in the night before. Granting herself a night to try to rest off the exhaustion that now seemed to plague her whenever she flew, the avian trainer was at least sharp enough to commit to a day of investigation. Winona had brought her own team of League investigators to help find the culprit, and after discussing the reports from Interpol with them, she prepared an action plan as to how to approach the investigation.
The site upon which the museum was built upon was a concentrated mass of movement, with policemen and inspectors dotted across the entire main exhibition hall.
"It looks like they started without us. Let's meet up with the agent," Winona said to the League investigators, as she led them towards the steps of the museum, specifically towards the man who was at the main entrance, adorning an unusually thick coat for the climate. As Looker noticed the arrival of the League investigators, his probing gaze fell on Winona.
"Good morning Looker. Nice to meet you again," she announced with a smile, more out of politeness than an eagerness to see him, or anyone for that matter. She was still too tired to really want to see anyone. Winona simultaneously stuck her hand out in greeting. Looker pulled out a notepad from beneath his coat in reply.
"When did you first notice the gas seep into your gym?"
Winona was caught out by the question. "Err.. about quarter to ten-"
"Anything extraordinary prior to the gas attack, did you notice?"
Err….what did he say?
"Oh! No, no. Nothi-"
"What is gym leader Falkner's condition and your medical diagnosis after the attack, what was it?"
Winona decided to save the questions for when she was more prepared for them, especially since she did not want to be painfully reminded of Falkner's condition at a time like this. "Agent, I can answer these questions later. Right now we have a museum to investigate. Shall we?" Winona gestured towards the main exhibition hall. Looker nodded, before pocketing his notepad and handing Winona a brown folder. He began to turn towards the hall. "Read the decontamination report and victim testimonies. Update yourself on the progress our forensics divisions have made on the chemical composition of the gas. I'll be directing the investigations in the museum. In the meantime I believe it would be most beneficial if you search for any suspects that Interpol has missed. A taillow chick in a tree, for example."
Taken slightly aback by the statement, she scoffed a reply: "Ha, very funny. Well if you're done, I think we should-"
Looker interrupted her, again. "Listen Miss Winona. I appreciate the concern displayed by the Hoenn League but there is little that you and your people can do to help in the investigation. Please file a detailed report regarding the gas attack on your gym including all medical records on Leader Falkner, yourself and any of your pokemon that were affected by the gas. I will be inside the exhibition hall if you have any further queries." Looker left for the main exhibition hall.
Winona's foggy mind finally sharpened to clarity when she decided enough was enough. The gym leader followed after Looker, calling out to him.
What's with this guy?
"Hey, Hey! Looker!" Looker pivoted on the spot, his normally intense gaze softened to one of mild annoyance and disinterest.
"You listen, agent. I am not really bothered at how you view the League's involvement in this, but believe me when I say that our experts are no less accomplished than your lackeys. Or do I have to remind you of the Aqua-Magma fiasco?"
Looker's stoic expression seemed to crease ever so slightly at that statement. He stared at her for a few terse moments, before answering: "Have your investigators meet mine in the Archive room. Be sure to take a few gas masks as a precaution. Read the report first, then meet us there." Looker left at that.
Winona smirked. That's more like it. "Alright. I'll join you soon."
The Interpol agent led the two teams of investigators up through the museum, instructing a pair of men to scour each exhibition hall they passed. His critical gaze stayed locked on the corridors they passed, scanning everything, searching for anything out of place. Once all the men save for half a dozen were allocated to a room, Looker proceeded to the Archives room, where his aerial account hunch would be judged to be correct or not. He passed a couple of noteworthy displays on the way, an exhibition on Hoenn geological history, an expose on the red and blue orbs of Hoenn, the only aerodactyl fossil to be discovered in Hoenn, every one of them trying to pry his attention away from his central task with their promises of satisfying the insatiable curiosity he had. But the agent continued straight on, until he arrived at his destination.
Looker began work.
"Have any blood samples swabbed and sent to the forensics team back at HQ. Retrieve anything out of the ordinary: empty bullet casings, fired rounds, loose pokemon scales or fur, anything. I want to see this museum spotless by the time we're done scouring the place for clues." He turned to a lead Interpol investigator on the case. "Liutenant, pay particular attention to this room." Looker's associate nodded in reply and instructed his men to ensure that this room was swiped clean. Looker meanwhile, moved to the Archive terminal in the room. After swabbing the keyboard for fingerprints, he accessed the restricted document storage catalogue with the password provided to him by the owner of the museum, and searched for aerial battle accounts in the Orre Uprising. Looker was sure that those documents were the key to finding the murderer. Unless I am wrong, which is a rare occurrence, if I am.
"Sir, over here!"
The very same lieutenant called out to Looker halfway through the search. Looker turned around to see his associate hold up a small blue shard. "It appears to be a scale of a pokémon of some sort," the investigator deduced.
Looker allowed himself the slightest of grins. The killer wasn't as immaculate as he was with the assassinations of the bird trainers. Getting sloppy now, are we? "Good. Have it bagged and send it back to Interpol headquarters immediately. I want that scale analysed and the pokémon identified."
Looker turned back to the Archive terminal, and continued his search.
The avian gym leader found herself semi-collapsed on a nearby bench, groaning as fatigue slithered its way up into her mind once more and bit down harder than ever before. Winona squinted and rubbed her brow. In her hand was the victim accounts of the gas attack, recorded memories of an experience she herself faced, and would rather not relive. But for the sake of the investigation, Winona had read it. It was written by the SWAT and the boy who had survived the museum attack. The SWAT's account was painful enough. Just the mentions of schizophrenia and tortured, writhing people awoke the dark demons of guilt that tormented her whenever she thought of Falkner. But it was the child's story that really tore her down. He not only saw what happened, but inhaled a small amount of the toxin. Written in simple, innocent language, his descriptions of the experiences he briefly faced were tear jerking. He was mortified by them. He apparently felt a biting, tingling sensation, like someone was heating his fingers over an open flame.
It ended there, but what horrors would he have faced had he been in contact with the gas for longer? Winona hoped that Falkner wasn't locked in that traumatic experience as he lays comatose in the Fortree General hospital, but deep down, she knew he faced something similar, if not altogether worse. She closed the folder, and tried to shake off her stupor.
Taking a sip from her thermos, Winona craned her head upwards to the sky, wishing the sun's vibrant rays would burn off her fatigue. Alas, the wish was not fulfilled, and that slap of reality reminded the gym leader that she was to join the investigation in the Archives room. Winona took one more sip, and moved on.
"Have you found anything yet?" she asked.
Looker wasted no time in acknowledging Winona's entrance into the Archives room, replying instead by gesturing towards a sealed bag with the scale. Looker's eyes remained glued to the archive computer, searching through every entry in the database of documents pertaining to the Orre uprising.
Collection of journal entries from Hoenn servicemen from the Orre Uprising – 20th -25th Air Divisions
"Bingo."
Winona walked over to the computer which had become the fixation of Looker's attention. Looker found the location at which the documents were stored in the museum, and dashed towards it. Winona was left feeling perplexed at his sudden movement, and leaned down to peer at the screen.
What's so important about journal entries from the Orre Uprising?
Winona found her perplexity compounded, and her heartbeat race at the mention of the war again. She idly tapped at the desk with the side of her right foot, wondering what could have possibly have attracted such immediate attention from the Interpol agent.
Winona gasped.
Gushing wind blew past her face. The dark of night overtook her senses. She was flying again. But she wasn't the one flying.
Tiny highlights glinted off the edge of her vision. They were steady and unmoving, despite her hurtling through the air. Aerodactyl crests. An animalistic growl rumbled through her head. The sharp whistle of air seemed to become louder. A crackling sound and a man's heavy breaths joined the cacophony. A bright orange glow suddenly faded into existence just ahead of her. It was fire.
It was a town burning. Winona could just make out the groans of fire-weakened buildings collapsing in front of her. An explosion percussed her right ear drum. The eerie shrieks of incoming projectiles rang with the chaos. She hurtled closer and closer to the inferno, and could now pick out the miniscule silhouetted figures of people running from the fire. They weren't stopping to try to put it out, for the inferno was too intense. They weren't carrying weapons to defend themselves. They were just running, screaming. Civilians.
She continued to hurtle down towards the people. A different growl then emanated from the Aerodactyl, as if its vocal chords were clogged. She dived ever closer. Suddenly another explosion went off. It was right in front of her. The Aerodactyl had released a flamethrower attack.
The screams grew louder. And clearer. They weren't just exclamations of fear. They were screaming "Aquila."
Missing.
Looker had suspected as much. The documents were stolen. The motive for the attack? Possibly. But why go to so much trouble and kill your own men for it? If the culprit had the resources to use biological warfare, he could easily have the tools for a heist. It would be so much cleaner, and cheaper.
Why else then?
The box in his hands, Looker made his way back to the Archives Room.
"Fire."
"Aquila."
"Aquila."
"Excuse me?"
Winona snapped out at Looker's voice. She groaned and wobbled, but held firm. Her foot caught the edge of the table.
"Hmm?" she muttered.
"You were mumbling something. No matter. We are almost finished here." Looker tagged the box, and proceeded to tell the lieutenant that he and Winona would be returning to Interpol HQ. He then explained to Winona: "We have a magneton to question. And I doubt Leader Wattson would appreciate your absence on such an important part of the investigation."
"Ok. Let's go."
Winona turned to follow Looker out of the room, when her grogginess caused her to trip on something on the floor. She stumbled momentarily, before turning back to identify an aged piece of paper as the trigger for her misstep. Looker noticed it immediately, and ran to pick it up. His eyes widened in disbelief.
Its header read: Collection of journal entries from Hoenn servicemen from the Orre Uprising – 21st Air Division.
"What is it?" Winona questioned.
"What he wants." Looker answered. "McCann was apparently in possession of several documents on the aerial battles of the war. Despite being well hidden, the documents were stolen. With similar documents in the museum missing, it only seems logical that whoever perpetrated the gas attacks is also our avian trainer serial killer. Do you know anything about these documents?"
Winona shook her head. "No."
Looker led them towards a police car that would take them back to Interpol. Winona could only stare at the ground as they walked, mind reeling from both the sudden return of the hallucination and Looker's startling revelations.
Interpol HQ, Mauville City, 13th December 2005
16:54
The captured magneton turned out to be a dead lead. No matter how much Wattson and his pokémon coerced, ordered, or pleaded, the semi-sentient electromagnetic creature refused to divulge any information, even going so far as to explode fifteen minutes into the interrogation. It annoyed Looker how the pokémon had to be revived and the questions repeated only to turn out that it was just as steely mouthed before it exploded. Nevertheless, Looker had another clue to follow up, and the mildly aggravating day had little effect on his confidence that this case could be cracked soon.
He first sifted through a synopsis of the Orre Uprising and the events that led up to it, acquired from the museum.
A summary of the Orre Uprising:
Declaration: September 20th 1860
Last shot fired: December 20th 1864
Location: Hoenn
Result: Hoenn victory
Factions: Hoenn Armed Forces, Orre Expeditionary Force
Strength: Hoenn Armed Forces: 5 959 850 servicemen, Orre Expeditionary Force: 3 148 321 servicemen.
Casualties: approximately 4.8 million.
Major theatres of war: Northern Front, Battle for the Archipelagos, Central desert campaign for Route 11, Eastern Front.
1859: Conflict between the two largest political parties in Hoenn escalated. The main political party led by President Harling Wilson and the opposition party led by Clarence Gloucester with some military leaders and Orre in close support. At the peak of the tensions the leader of the opposition party was murdered. It is suspected that it was ordered by his military allies. The military leaders of the opposition party replaced him and accused the leading party of assassination. They attempt a coup against the main party in retaliation. It failed and tensions escalated further.
1860: Both sides began preparation for war. Civil war broke loose on September 20th. The opposition began to lose ground quite quickly until they called for Orre intervention. Orre saw this as an opportunity to weaken and influence Hoenn to gain its resources, especially since Orre lacked many of its own resources. They sided with the opposition but by then the opposition was defeated in Hoenn. They counterattacked. After a brief naval campaign, Orre forces capture Route 114 on the north of Hoenn.
1861: They proceed to launch a pincer movement along the middle and west of Hoenn, down Route 111 and towards Old Mauville. Minor towns are captured by Orre along the way. However, the west side movement gets delayed due to natural resistance of the Meteor Falls. They continue a naval campaign to capture Dewford Town, Mossdeep City and Evergrande City.
1862: There was heavy resistance at Old Mauville After severe losses from both sides Old Mauville was captured.
1863: Slateport fell soon. Rustboro falls under heavy attack but remains under Hoenn control. Orre forces move east towards Fortree and Lilycove. Fortree fell after a brief resurgence from Hoenn forces. Lilycove staved off the Orre attack. Rustboro City is liberated.
1864: Fortree is liberated. Mauville is liberated. Slateport is liberated. The Hoenn mainland is completely liberated by June. The Hoenn Archipelago towns and cities are liberated soon after. Orre agree to sign the 1864 armistice, ending the war.
Still no mention of aerial battles or anything flight related. Looker had his chin clenched tight between his fingers. But there's this. Looker turned to a folder towards the right of his desk, and carefully removed an aged slip of paper from it. The same one as the one Winona found in the museum. He read it.
27th September 1863
Private Entry from Capt. Richard Schaffer, Leader of Hoenn's 21st Air Division
We were going to be scrambled to protect Fortree. Guess the higher ups finally realised keeping my flight guarding Rustboro wasn't going to save Hoenn. About time to. The five of us have been getting pretty restless. Even Rainer is getting moody. Good thing Lloyd was busying himself sending Morse messages to his pals in other units. Heaven knows what he'd do (or make us do) if the guy hadn't preoccupied himself at the telegraph over the last couple of days. Needless to say we were all raring to go. The flight there would be a long one, but I've been training up Aither's endurance for long enough. That flygon even outlasted Rainer's Charizard in an endurance run. He'll be fine. And he would enjoy spreading his wings a bit more than just hovering above Rustboro.
We were told to expect heavy attack from all dimensions: land and air. It's been a real slugfest apparently. Thank Arceus it hasn't gotten to trenches just yet, but judging by how important that city is to our defence, we might just be forced to start digging in.
The scale of the Fortree siege had got me thinking for a while. Aquila will be there. I'm certain of it. According to reports from other units only large scale conflicts attracted the mercenary's attention. Guess he's waiting for a challenge. Well, maybe we can make his attendance worth his while. He's supposedly killed thousands in battle, tearing up the entire region single-handedly. Every time we hear of a battle with Aquila, the leash the commanders has on us just seems that much tighter. It's painful, knowing that we could be out there shooting him down. It's not because of propaganda fuelled hate too. Sure, he's killed many. We've killed hundreds too. And it's never a pleasant feeling to see someone get mangled by an attack your mount fired. Yeah, it feels exhilarating to shoot down another aerial master in the heat of the moment, but you really have to close it all out when you try to sleep at night. It gets to you.
No, it's the knowledge that we aren't doing a bloody thing beyond keeping this city safe. Hell, the generals must really be thinking that we'd be eaten up by him in seconds. That's the only logical reason I can see of not letting us fight at other major battles. Our apparent incompetence. But who am I to talk. I'm just an idle captain with too much time to think.
Fortunately for my sanity I haven't spent all that time brooding. I've managed to compile quite a bit of info on our not-so-friendly neighbourhood mercenary. He appears to be born in Orre. Our prisoners seem to mention how he doesn't take orders from most generals. Just seems to help them around. So he really must be a freelancer trying to cash in on Orre's rather substandard aerial units. Not a service to the country. Hmm. I guess he thinks chivalry is gone and all that. Either that or he's as cold blooded as all the generals try to get us to believe. He's killed civilians and POWs upon request without so much as a second's hesitation apparently.
I've also managed to learn of a couple of reports from survivors who could get a decent look at Aquila's mount. None of them have an idea as to what it is. It's apparently stone coloured and reptilian. Hmm, a rock or ground type maybe? Other than that, we've gotten conflicting reports. Conflicting except for its speed and agility. Every report seemed to overemphasise how swiftly it seems to slash into their flights and just tear them apart before anyone else could blink. I've tried finding out what kind of manoeuvres Aquila pulls, but most reports seem to leave out how he banks and counterattacks. One did mention that his manoeuvring appeared rather basic at times, and incredibly complex at others. Trying out new manoeuvres maybe? Or what if he was restless like we are, and is simply trying to stay sharp?
Whatever it is, he's intriguing. And it's the intriguing ones that we ought to watch out for, right?
Looker replaced the journal entry into his folder.
Curious. Some sort of cover up took place to erase the aerial battles of the war from history. A good cover up as well. It appeared only McCann and the museum knew about them. But our killer found out about them somehow, and killed others in search for it. The missing journal entries in the museum confirmed that the killer has an obsession with aerial battles in the Orre war. And if this entry was anything to follow up on, the main focus of all the entries would have been an Orre mercenary. What relation does the killer have with this Aquila? The museum was attacked. Over thirty people dead. Some his own men. The murders of those avian trainers as well. Why display unnecessary and almost counterproductive violence in acquiring these entries? Why not settle with silent theft?
And then there's Winona. Looker spotted her growing exhaustion. He thought little of it, instead focusing on finding clues in the museum. But the way she had acted at the computer terminal. Her abrupt loss of focus. Her nigh inaudible mumbles. Of fire. And of Aquila.
Suspicious.
Looker gazed out his window thoughtfully.
The Mauve Grand Hotel, Mauville City, 13th December 2005
22:49
Winona replaced her copy into her folder.
It matched seamlessly with her vision a few hours ago. Aquila was a mercenary that killed thousands, including the civilians she saw. A stone coloured pokémon as his mount, described as a demon. That was the aerodactyl. The reptilian beast that no one in the Hoenn ranks knew of. It was understandable. They were supposed to be extinct for millennia.
Well then how did one appear a hundred years before fossil revival tech was invented?
That wasn't half of it. There's also a psychopath wielding a biological weapon capable of wiping out entire cities of people, if the status reports were anything to go by. And he or she was obsessed with Aquila.
So are my hallucinations.
They were getting disturbingly relevant to the case. Winona squinted and rubbed her brow.
What triggered them this morning? And what could they mean?
It might be time to get some help.
