For some vulgar language and frightening scenes;
those sensitive to themes of animal cruelty and violence,
please read at your own discretion.


Guillermo was hunkered down with cages of unconscious Pokémon for what seemed like hours, moving as quickly and quietly as he could from one truck bed to the next each time they stopped. What each pause had in store was a mystery that made his heart pound halfway up his throat more than once. He tried using the time to plan his next move, but his nerves made it hard on him. Once the Pokémon were awake and ready to run, his only chance was the element of surprise - he'd already unlocked the cages and he could hear some of the creatures stirring - he didn't have much time left.
"You hear that whining, too?" A voice came from the cab ahead.
"Yeah, they're waking up; guess it's showtime." Another answered. The voices were hauntingly neutral - as if they didn't enjoy it, but they didn't fear it either... as if what they were about to do was truly 'just business'.
"Well, this is as good a place as any..." the first voice replied and the next words were flanked by the sound of static from a two-way radio. "Fellas, take this next right - time to get to work."
"So wait... skinning 'em, right?" A voice came from the other side, higher-pitched and a bit uncertain.
"Yeah, why? You got a problem with that?" The nearest voice asked with a chuckle.
"Eh, just never done it before - and I like my work to be clean..." the other side's voice was now defensive.
"Don't get your panties in a twist. If you do a bad job, all the better for the show." came the sardonic reply, one that made Guillermo cringe and his breathing became quick and shallow as the Pokémon started to fuss more and more loudly. He pulled two of his three Pokéballs, just waiting for the trucks to stop - once that tarp was pulled, he guessed... it really was showtime.
With the truck stopping, the infectious anxiety woke the remaining Pokémon - both good and bad for Guillermo as it made them all run-ready, but also made him even more nervous. He heard more than saw the tarp being moved and loosed the Pokéballs.
"Water Pulse and Icy Wind." His voice cracked a bit as he watched Florina and Somona take shape. They rounded and used the combo attack without hesitation, launching large shards of ice at the surrounding humans who were taken aback with curses flying - meanwhile, he pulled the first cage door open. The other cages - already unlocked - hardly needed opening as the little Pokémon pushed frantically and freed themselves. Guillermo had to keep pushing, panicking as he saw the sputtering angry strangers pulling out handguns. "Bind! Screech!" he called out the successive orders and threw his last Pokéball: "Bulldoze!" he shouted, then covered his ears, the Weavile's piercing scream already let loose and making the aggressors at the very least, very uncomfortable. Pascual hardly minded it, his tiny ears registering it and little more as he heeded his order and went for the biggest things around - those metal carriages - he never liked how smelly they were, anyway. Half dancing to keep from trampling the now trickling flood of Pokémon that stemmed from them, he made quick work of two of the vehicles and kept the now fully frazzled humans moving. Metal groaned and glass windows splintered into shards as he tipped them over, driving them around. Some weren't so lucky to get away or cover their ears, trapped in the Milotic's coils as they were. When they lost consciousness (from either overwhelming sound or lack of oxygen, it was anyone's guess...), she eventually released them and made her way to where Guillermo stood. There was one truck left and those who were able were getting in. They were on the run it seemed, but Guillermo realized as one pulled out a radio... they really shouldn't be getting away. "Come on, you too." Guillermo called as he summoned Florina and Somona back to their Pokéballs. "Pascual." he raised a hand and the signal was answered promptly. In seconds, the snow pig abandoned the inanimate target of his wrath and swooped by the boy, who grabbed onto the near tusk, heaving himself up onto the Mamoswine's back. He didn't know what they were saying on the radio as they peeled out - but he had to catch them, and quick. Holding on with his legs, he quickly punched out a text: 'Pokémon loose baddies still moving to vegas'


Dante's phone buzzed and he pulled it out just a tad irritably. He was about to lead a couple of kids into a dangerous operation; this was not the time for notifications and it damn well better have been important. His eyes narrowed in confusion, then widened as he recognized the number and the total lack of punctuation.
"Guys," he whispered as they were within sight of the building, "that was G. He didn't say where he was - but he must have intercepted those trucks... something about the Pokémon loose - but the agents are still on their way. We need to move quickly..."
"But if the Pokémon are safe, then what are we still doing here?" Hazel asked.
"You're welcome to stay behind with Joe." Dante offered playfully when the older brother scoffed. "Seriously, though: we can take down the major RWTR leader here - we can't lose this chance..." we can't let Jethro dying be for nothing... he thought to himself. Hazel, thought it over - looking at Sacha, Bailey and Jonah to see what they thought.
"He says we're already involved, Hazel." Sacha said quietly yet solidly. "Better to face them than to hide and hope we won't get caught." Bailey nodded with a smile and Jonah grimly agreed. Sacha hoped the fear didn't show; she'd be lying if she said recent events didn't have her rattled, but she needed to convince herself that this was just another part of her journey; her path to betterment - she wasn't weak and she would prove it.
With that and a final nod from Hazel, Dante smiled with a nod of his own before they moved on. Each was ready to summon their Pokémon as needed. Dante wished Jake and Madison could have made it, but his friends were tied up in too many things at the time. RWTR was keeping them stretched thin and it made him nervous. He'd sent for other Vanguards to come as well, but no call backs yet... not a good sign. At least they weren't seeing any resistance - hopefully that wasn't a bad thing. If they could get in, find this Howard Jensen guy, catch him (dead or alive, Dante honestly wasn't concerned at this point) and get out, he could say the day was salvaged... and he tried once again to push the major loss of their lurker to the back of his mind.
Crossing the unsettlingly open grounds around the skyscraper as fast as possible, they found a less conspicuous entrance on the west side still barely in the tower's shadow. No guards yet...
"I don't like this. You don't think they're expecting us, do you?" Jonah murmured suspiciously as they walked briskly down a narrow hallway that made them all feel just a bit cramped. Dante's expression did not inspire confidence - he'd been hoping that wasn't the case, but this lack of security was sending up all kinds of red flags.
"Let's just find some elevator or stairs - we'll probably need to get to the top of this building anyway." Dante finally answered as they reached a lobby-like chamber. A voice that barely contained amusement and excitement cascaded down from a mezzanine above.
"Was not expecting this... oh boy, when I heard some brat had stopped the shipment from coming in, I was really expecting more of the same - killing you may not stop your annoying little game, Dante, but it sure is going to help. Ah, where are my manners. Howard Jensen - local head of operations..." The man stood bent over, leaning on the rail before him as he waved down at them. He was a man of medium stature, wearing a dark suit, with short black hair that spiked back slightly; his face was an odd mixture of filled out and strong-jawed with a squared nose. Whether his eyes were narrowed in mirth or simply looked that way, they couldn't tell, but he was certainly smiling. Dante didn't like how confident the man seemed - dammit, definitely a trap. Instinctively, he and the brothers formed a ring around Sacha and Hazel - not that it kept them hidden. "Ohhh, and you even brought the little pests... how thoughtful. Finally some good news for the boss." Dante and Bailey traded looks at that, seeming to think the same thing: 'the boss'? If this isn't the boss, who is?!
They hadn't much time to worry about it however, as footsteps were heard from all around and from all paths leading the room, including the one they'd just passed through, there stood a small army of henchmen, all armed. Dante shot the others a look and drew the Pokéball from his pocket - his tank of a Tyranitar was their best bet in this textbook-trap. Only, it wouldn't open. His covert attempt to unleash it mysteriously foiled, he looked at it in bafflement, squeezing, turning and inspecting it for some damage, but he couldn't see any. Jensen chuckled as he waited patiently for their attention.
"Your Pokémon can't help you here - these walls have more than just electric wiring and plumbing in them. See, we also have wires that emit a fun frequency that interferes with Pokéball's satellite signals." Hazel and Sacha looked to the three young men, hoping they had some kind of plan B... apparently there was none as they just huddled closer around the minors. "Pitiful - your smoke and daggers tactics only went so far, huh, D? Well, let's wrap this up, gentlemen." Jensen finished with a twirling motion of his hand as he straightened up. Firearms raised, there was an unexpected pause as some to the south turned to look behind them. "What are you waiting for?" The man upstairs asked impatiently, noticing the disturbance, but not quite hearing what they did... at first. It was getting louder and now everyone could hear it: a rumbling sound like the beginnings of the tremors that they thought they could feel in the floor before SLAM. Something hit the wall hard with a wild bellow. The wall started to crumble, only for another impact to send pieces of sheet rock and plaster flying as a huge creature pushed between the steel beams and emerged from the dust; the boar-like snout twitched as Mamoswine zeroed in on the familiar scent.
"Sorry - I tried to stop the-..." The group was shocked to hear the familiar voice calling out between coughs as the airborne particles of debris reluctantly began to settle. Only now, however did he, the rider and the tiny canine in said rider's hood look around at what precisely they'd run into.