I want to apologize for how long this has taken to get out. What with finals and the holidays and work I havn't had much time. Also I've had trouble with this part of the story. I've rewritten this part like three times to get it to work and I hope that I've succeeded. At least I hope it doesn't suck. ;) If it does I'm sure you'll let me know. ;)
Continued...
ÒDammit!Ó Giovanni roared in angry frustration, pounding his fist against the arm of his chair. Growling softly in barely controlled rage he stood and griped the pokeball with the Pikachu in it. The creature lost again. It lost on purpose again. This was the third time now. It simply refused to fight. He held the pokeball up and glared at it. ÒYou will fight you miserable rat. Because we will do this every single day until you do.Ó he snarled.
ÒMr. Giovanni, would you like me to take care of the Pikachu?Ó
ÒYes.Ó Giovanni spat. ÒHeal the rat Joyce. Inform me as soon as it is well enough to battle.Ó He glared once more at the pokeball before tossing it toward the young woman.
Joyce caught the pokeball and hurried out of the room. Giovanni followed her to the door and slammed it behind her. He stood for a moment, trembling with rage that demanded action. That cried for him to do something or go insane. Looking around quickly his gaze settled on a paperweight sitting on his desk, and without another thought he snatched it up and threw it as hard as he could against the wall sending chunks of glass and plastic in every direction. Feeling a bit more calm, Giovanni moved back behind his desk and sat down. He pressed a button on his phone. ÒSusan....get someone in here to clean up this mess.Ó
ÒYes sir Mr. Giovanni. I have a call holding for you sir, on line three.Ó was the reply from his secretary.
Giovanni ignored the junior Rocket member who scuttled into the office to sweep up the shards of glass up. He rubbed his temples tiresomely and barked, ÒWho is it?Ó
ÒTeam Three sir. Should I put the call through?Ó
Giovanni leaned forward in his chair considering. Team Three was Butch and CassidyÕs team. They were only slightly more competent than those morons Jessie and James. Their success rate was higher...how could it not be?...but the pokemon they sent were usually sickly, maltreated creatures that had to be sent to the medical lab before they could be used. He wondered what they wanted. ÒYes Susan, put it through.Ó
Giovanni snatched up the phone as soon as it signaled that the call had been transferred. ÒWhat do you want?Ó he questioned sharply without waiting for a greeting. Giovanni listened to the answer with a growing look of interest. ÒWell that is intriguing Butch.Ó He paused again listening and he smiled. To the boy quietly sweeping up the remains of the destroyed paperweight and listening to this side of the phone call, the smile made goosebumps break out on his arms. ÒOh yes. Yes...that would be perfect. Oh indeed. If you succeed Butch you and your partner will be rewarded greatly. If you donÕt......good. See that you donÕt.Ó
There was another pause and the boy waited with baited breath hoping that the Boss wouldnÕt notice that heÕd finished cleaning before he could hear the rest. He was hoping that the Boss would let slip some clue what the phone call was about. It had to be something important to strike such a manic gleam in hisÕs eyes. ÒYes right away. Yes. Thats fine we have adequate facilities. Oh yes. Dead or alive, do you understand? Good. Get to work.Ó Without another word, he hung up the phone.
Giovanni sat back in his chair smiling evilly and didnÕt notice the junior Rocket hurry out of the room.
Joyce entered her lab with a sigh. She released the injured Pikachu from the pokeball onto a bed and began examining it. The poor thing had multiple abrasions and bruises, especially on its right side where the Sandslash had focused its attack. Feeling carefully along the electric mouseÕs legs and sides she was pretty sure it didnÕt have any broken bones, but she prepped it for x-ray none the less. The Boss wouldnÕt be happy if she returned the Pikachu to him in anything less than perfect condition.
The x-ray films showed that there werenÕt any broken bones and Joyce was greatly relieved. The little pokemon wasnÕt as badly hurt this time around. While she treated the gashes Joyce thought back on the other times she had treated this Pikachu.
SheÕd been here when the Boss had arrived with it the first time. It had been horribly injured. Covered in the most appalling burns, it had taken her the better part of three days just to get it stabilized. During those three days she was sure it would die, and the thought terrified her because the Boss had made it clear that this pokemon was special and if it didnÕt make it she wouldnÕt last much longer. So sheÕd worked her hardest to save it. No one could have done a better job she was certain. And it worked. The Pikachu lived. Now she wasnÕt so sure it was for the best.
The very same day she handed it over to the Boss in perfect health, it had come back to her near death. SheÕd had no explanation for this. Just a demand barked at her from the Boss to heal it and inform him when it was well enough to battle again. It was suffering from severe frostbite and was half drowned. Joyce couldnÕt imagine how the pokemon had gotten so injured in such a short time. Especially since the Pikachu was the only pokemon brought to her for treatment.
Treatment that time had only taken two days, but sheÕd worried about the frostbite on its ears. She thought she might have to remove a large portion of the PikachuÕs ears. Luckily however, it had responded well to the treatment and she didnÕt have to take such a drastic measure.
When the electric mouseÕs health had been completely restored, Joyce returned it to the Boss, not expecting to see it again for a while. It was very unusual that sheÕd seen the Pikachu twice in so short a time. Usually she didnÕt see the same pokemon for a long while after giving it back. The Boss had so many pokemon and usually he only used the strongest for battle so that they rarely got injured badly enough to need medical attention.
She was shocked when that very afternoon the Boss stomped into her lab and slammed a pokeball on her desk, commanding her to ÒHeal the damn rat againÓ. He once again offered no clarification and he left as abruptly as he had entered. She released the Pikachu and gasped in horror at the mangled mess that laid still as death on the gurney. She began treatment immediately and felt sick at the amount of traumas the pokemon had suffered. Several bones had been broken in multiple places...a couple had been practically crushed. There were numerous internal injuries, all of which were potentially fatal. She was most anxious about the damage done to the PikachuÕs spine. She had wondered at how the creature was even alive. If a human had sustained even half such damage he would have died.
The strength of pokemon never ceased to amaze her. They could bear fantastic amounts of abuse and live through it. Then, they healed with amazing quickness once treatment was given. A human with a broken leg would be in a cast for several weeks at best...months at worst. A pokemon with a broken leg often was fit for battle the next day if it was treated properly.
Despite this natural fortitude it had taken her a week to get the Pikachu back to perfect health. This time she didnÕt return immediately to her lab when she returned the pokeball to the Boss. SheÕd remained, hoping to discover how it was that the pokemon kept getting so injured so immediately. She followed the Boss to the training area of the Team Rocket complex. Obviously he wanted to battle the Pikachu in one of the many arenas. Joyce wasnÕt surprised, she expected this. Not that she was happy about it. She liked to give recently treated pokemon a day or two to rest. Usually the Boss was good about this, having so many pokemon to choose from when she suggested that one needed rest.
The Boss released the newly healed pokemon into an arena that was specially constructed, it seemed, to prevent the electric mouse from being able to use its electric attacks on him. This was puzzling in and of itself but it paled in comparison to what happened next. It soon became sadly apparent why the Pikachu had come back to her so badly wounded so many times. Another Rocket member released a Sandslash into the arena with the Pikachu and the battle began. At least for the Sandslash it did. The Pikachu just sat there. It turned a hate filled glare toward the Boss and its cheeks sparked furiously.....but it didnÕt attack. It didnÕt obey the BossÕs orders. It just sat and let the Sandslash tear into it.
Joyce shuddered at the memory as she finished treating and binding the wounds the Pikachu had suffered in the one-sided battle. She knew it was because she had followed the Boss that the battle had been as short as it had and the Pikachu hadnÕt been as injured as it had in the past. Her cries of dismay and shock had caused the Boss to recall the Pikachu. She wiped a tear away as she remembered his promise to repeat the battling everyday till the Pikachu would obey him. He would keep that promise if it killed the pokemon. With a sigh she lifted the little electric mouse and carried it to the insulated chamber the Boss had ordered her to use for the PikachuÕs recuperation after treatment.
Why wonÕt you battle? she asked silently as she laid the Pikachu on the bed and stroked its soft fur softly. If youÕd just battle for him he wouldnÕt treat you so badly. Hearing a noise she turned and gasped slightly, seeing the Boss enter the lab. She quickly exited the chamber and sealed the door. ÒWhat can I do for you sir?Ó she asked quickly.
Giovanni didnÕt answer right away. He stood silently, staring through the window into the chamber at the Pikachu. Feeling a surge of triumph he turned toward Joyce with a smile. ÒHow long till the Pikachu is fit for battle?Ó
Joyce swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. ÒTwo days at least sir.Ó she lied. The pokemon would be fine in the morning....but she couldnÕt turn it over to the Boss so soon. Not after what sheÕd seen. She had to give the poor creature some respite from the pain.
Giovanni took her at her word and nodded satisfied with her answer. ÒThats perfect.Ó he mummered. ÒAbsolutely perfect.Ó
Joyce stared at the Boss wondering what on earth he meant and feeling very worried about the look on his face when he said it. What is he up to? What is he planning? she wondered nervously. The Boss didnÕt satisfy her concerned curiosity however. He just smiled at her and left the lab.
To Be Continued....