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Chapter XIX: In Which Wallace Gets His Word
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February 6th, 2002. Before Sunrise. Battle Pyramid.
Solidad pulled her coat around her tighter as an ice-kissed breeze ruffled her hair. She had grown up in the Pewter City area, yet it had never been this cold. Kanto was a temperate region. Snow hardly touched anything beyond the mountains, and when it did come, it rarely stuck. She could only recall a couple of instances in her childhood in which there was enough snow to build a foot-tall snowman outside her home.
This was the most anxious she'd ever felt in her life. Participating in contests and the like had always managed to get her adrenaline pumping, but this was different. It was a powerful rush of fear and determination. Last month, she and many others had been forced to sit on the sidelines and watch Team Rocket kidnap Moltres and send their world barreling toward icy ruin. Today, they would finally strike back. Today, maybe they would set things straight.
It was a personal matter for her, too, considering that Drew and May were still on her mind and that she had adopted Lance's theory as to how they would bring them home: Stop Giovanni, and they would find themselves.
However, many others didn't require a personal connection to the case to be willing to fight. The call from Giovanni had been the last straw for Lance, and with the knowledge of the Hoenn base's location in his possession, he extended the invitation beyond the confines of his own G-Men to join the battle—to gym leaders, to Elite Four members, to Frontier Brains. The response had been overwhelming. People not only wanted to help, they were ready and willing to do so.
Solidad had not realized how much she had wanted this until the first wave of trainers began arriving at the Indigo Plateau yesterday and, today, the Battle Pyramid. In certain respects, she felt out of place. She was a coordinator. Her talents were not focused in battle, but rather appeal. Still, though she had never taken the Pokemon League Challenge, much less paid great attention to league activities, she recognized more faces than she would have expected of herself—Erika Applebaum of Celadon City, Whitney Hollingshead of Goldenrod City, Roxanne Neil of Rustboro City, among others.
For a couple hours now, Solidad had stood out in the cold, watching as the Napaj's elite continued to arrive by car, by Pokémon, a few even by foot. She didn't speak to anyone. She merely watched them pass by and head into the Battle Pyramid, where they would be required to fill out a form with their name, where they were from, and what Pokémon they had with them.
Lance had also made it clear to her and others that they were still maintaining the story that the fourteen children were dead and instructed them to act accordingly. Cynthia, understanding the deeper parts of the issue, added that the temptation to spill the truth as a form of comfort wouldn't be a problem, since Cilan's brothers and Candice had declined the invitation to come. Still, Solidad was tired of acting.
"Solidad!" The coordinator snapped out of her trance and looked to her left, from where the voice had come.
"Norman," Solidad regarded pleasantly as the Petalburg Gym Leader approached.
"I didn't expect you'd be here," he said.
"I've been keeping close correspondence with Lance and the others," Solidad explained in brief. "I wouldn't have been invited otherwise."
"I see," Norman mused before lowering his voice and asking, "In that case, do you know of any updates on May and the other kids?"
Solidad suddenly felt her mouth run dry, believing that he was not aware of the fact that the children were, for lack of a better word, missing. She didn't want to be the one to tell him the children had never made it to Blackthorn City, but she wasn't particularly interested in lying to cover up for Lance either.
Norman must have sensed her discomfort, because he added, "I know about the children not being with Clair."
"You do?" Solidad was nearly relieved. Norman nodded.
"Cynthia told me and the others a while ago," he explained. "I don't think Lance is aware she did this."
"Probably for the best."
"You certainly get the sense that they don't like each other, don't you?" He smiled crookedly.
"I think that's an understatement," Solidad said, shaking her head. "How upset were you?"
"You know, you would expect that I would have been furious, outraged even," Norman admitted, "and I was upset—there's no hiding that—but in the back of my mind... I think I knew it was going to happen. I know my daughter, and I know her friends. They were not going to calmly go to Dragon's Den and wait in the dark for several months. Caroline and I are trying not to worry too much about it. May has Drew and Ash, and I know either of them would jump in harm's way for her."
"Must be scary knowing there are boys out there who care about your daughter almost as much as you do," Solidad said, half-teasing. Norman let out a chuckle at that.
"The first time I held her—the first time she looked at me with those pretty blue eyes—I knew I was going to see a few young men on my porch," he said. "I'm just glad she picked a couple of good guys to hang around."
Solidad lowered her eyelids.
"Right..." she agreed.
"Anyway," Norman continued, "I'm heading inside. I promised to meet Palmer, and this cold is something else. Are you coming?"
"I'll be in soon," Solidad replied. "I'm going to hang outside here for a little while longer."
He was initially confused, but he waved her off anyway with a smile, and she returned to her watch. She was beginning to become discouraged, thinking he wouldn't come. Then, in the flurry of the light snowfall, she saw another car pull up. The headlights turned off, and she held her breath as she watched a tall male exit the vehicle.
She remained rooted to her spot until she could be sure it was him, but as soon as she saw the long, dark purple hair, she had to bite down on her bottom lip to contain the smile. He recognized her, too, and he began walking briskly toward her. She met him halfway, and she grasped his upper arms as a sort of loose embrace.
"I was starting to get worried you wouldn't come," she chuckled.
"You know I wouldn't miss the opportunity for condoned violence," Harley replied.
"Oh, you do care." Solidad wasn't hiding her smile anymore.
"I care about you, not May and Drew," he clarified.
"You care about the things I care about," Solidad said. "Therefore, by extension, you also care about May and Drew."
"Whatever. You just keep telling yourself that, Sol." Harley rolled his eyes. "You ready for this?"
"Nervous."
"Don't be. Today's going to be a great day." He grinned. "Revenge is sweet."
"You know, I worry about you sometimes."
"Hun, why do you think everyone else is here?" He paused before adding, "Why are you here?"
February 6th, 2002. Early Morning. At Sea.
Leaf emerged from the hold cautiously, casting her gaze about the deck in search of any crew members. She doubted anyone would be around at this time, and thus far, she had been right. This was not the first time she or any of the other trainers had left their dark prison below, though they only went above for hygienic purposes, and the trips were no more than a couple of minutes.
Realizing no one was around, Leaf stumbled to the rail and cast her head over the side, ill. Seeing the swirl of the waves below only served to worsen her sickness, however, and she had to close her eyes.
She spent the next few minutes unsuccessfully trying to collect herself. Her mental presence was so feeble that she didn't notice someone approach her from behind. She gasped and snapped her head up when she felt a hand on her back, but her surge of fear was alleviated once she realized it was Gary and not a sailor who had come.
"Geez, you scared me," she breathed.
"Sorry."
"You shouldn't be up here."
"Neither should you," he retorted, though his chastisement—if it could even be called that—was mild. It was unlike him. "Are you all right?"
"I have a tendency to get seasick," Leaf replied shortly.
"I can see that."
They didn't say anything more for a while. He pressed his fingers very gently against her upper back and ran them down her spine. The tenderness of the gesture might have made Leaf uncomfortable had it not been so simultaneously soothing, so she laid her head against her arms on the railing and let him continue without protest. As time passed—she wasn't sure how long—his fingers moved away from the set track and began running their own course.
"My mom used to do this to me when I was a kid," he commented absentmindedly. "She would trace words and things in my back, so I'd become distracted trying to figure out what she was saying and forget I was sick."
Leaf turned her head, peeking at him with a single eye. She didn't expect he would bring up his mother. Family was a sensitive topic for both of them.
"What did she write?" she asked.
"Oh, you know," he said with a wave of his free hand. "Things like my name and 'I love you.' Mom stuff."
"What are you writing now?"
The edge of his lips curved into a smirk.
"You'll have to figure that out yourself."
Leaf rolled her eyes and lifted her head to look out directly before her. Her eyes widened as she did.
"That's Sinnoh," she realized. "That's Sinnoh in the distance. There, you can see the mountains looming over the horizon."
Gary looked up, too.
"Yeah." He said it as though it were no big deal.
"I didn't realize we were so close," Leaf continued.
"You seem worried."
"That's because I am worried," Leaf persisted. "Gary, I don't have the slightest clue as to how we're going to get off this boat without being seen. It's been a miracle that we've managed to muddle through the past couple of days without anyone on board stumbling across us. Plus, if Ursula wasn't exaggerating, then we can expect scores of people clamoring to get on board as soon as the ship pulls into port."
"Don't sweat it," Gary assured her. "It'll work out. It always does."
"This isn't funny, Gary. What if someone recognizes us?"
"I'm not laughing. This whole adventure has been nothing but a big 'what if?' What if Silver's lying? What if buying the Hoenn tickets tips Giovanni off? What if Ursula tells someone? We can't be sure about anything, and that's just true about life in general," Gary explained. "I'm just not concerned because, hey, it's been more than a month, and we're still alive. You might think I'm crazy, but I honestly get the sense this is what we are supposed to do, so just let the pieces fall where they may."
"I didn't have you pinned as a big destiny-fulfilling type of guy." It wasn't as much of a tease as it was an observation.
Gary shrugged.
"I've had to re-evaluate my position considering recent events."
"Because of Ash?"
"I'm just saying, there's been at least a dozen times we should've been done for, but it ended up working out in our favor."
"... Are you suggesting Ash is some kind of good luck charm?"
"If you want to put it that way, sure. Why does that surprise you?"
"You know, you've assumed from the beginning that I've believed Ash is the Chosen One," Leaf answered coolly. "But the fact is I haven't always been so sure. When I talked to Melody back when this whole thing began, and when I first learned about Ash and the Shamouti prophecy... I just wanted to pass off his saving the Shamouti isles as a fluke, because, I mean, Ash Ketchum the Chosen One?"
"So, what do you think now?" Gary asked.
Leaf was silent for a long moment.
"I'm leaning toward yes," she admitted, "but I'm a skeptic, too, and if he's our good luck charm... well, his luck has got to run out eventually."
Suddenly, the sound of approaching voices caught the attention of both trainers, and they hurriedly turned away from the railing.
"Someone's coming," Leaf panicked.
"Yeah," Gary said before grabbing her wrist and pulling her along. The quick motion sent Leaf's head spinning, and she was sure she was going to be sick. They hid themselves behind some sort of large, metallic circular tube, and Gary had to wrap an arm around Leaf's shoulders tightly to keep her from collapsing and drawing in attention. They watched with bated breath as two adult men passed by. The men were too caught up in their conversation to notice them, much less look their way.
After managing to get her head in order, Leaf looked up in time to see the men open the hatch and enter the hold. She couldn't help but let out a gasp, and she swore she was about to cry. She had cursed herself. After everything they'd been through, this could potentially be their end.
"Oh Arceus," she uttered despairingly, and Gary hushed her.
"Just hold on," he whispered. "We knew this could happen. That's why we set up the boxes to provide us a hiding place."
They waited out the next few minutes in an unbearable silence—and then, finally, the sailors reappeared from below the hold, laughing and talking as they had been minutes before. Gary and Leaf ducked again as they passed by, and as soon as they were gone, they stood and hurried back into the hold.
"Did those men see you?" Leaf asked frantically as soon as she opened the hatch.
It was quiet for a long moment. Then, an answer:
"No."
It came from Ash.
Leaf let out an immense sigh of relief and cast a sideways glance at Gary, who seemed at ease as well.
"Looks like we've still got some luck left," he told her with a smirk.
February 6th, 2002. Morning. Battle Pyramid.
"Here's the list, as you requested," Lance said, handing a folder to Surge. "It's complete with every available trainer in the pyramid and their Pokémon. I had one of my agents type it up to compensate for some of less impressive penmanship. It's subdivided by region and is organized alphabetically."
Surge nodded to show he was listening as he opened the folder and began leafing through the pages. Lance allowed him a moment to skim before pulling out a large, rolled script.
"This..." Lance continued, regaining the Vermillion Gym Leader's attention, "... is a blueprint of the Rocket base we're headed toward." He unfurled the paper and laid it flat across the table.
Surge closed the folder to take a better look.
"Where will we be landing in relation to the base?" he asked.
"That's for Brandon's discretion."
"I need to know."
"I'll have someone ask him."
Surge pressed his lips into a hard line and opened up the folder once again.
"I wish you had given me more time, rather than forcing me to make hasty decisions and put together a last-minute plan of attack," he grumbled.
"You have six hours," Lance said.
"I would need that much time to even go through this and gain a thorough understanding of the resources I have," Surge said, holding up the folder.
"Well, I'm sorry, Adam, but I don't have more time to give you," Lance breathed out, frustrated. "We are in the air now. There is no turning back."
"Please, Lance, I prefer 'officer' in this context," Surge corrected. "The serious decisions I was and now am going to make..."
"Fine, officer," Lance said. "I'm sorry you don't have more time. I really am. Would you like me to send for someone to help you?"
"Who?"
"Oh, I don't know—Koga, Sabrina, Blaine," Lance suggested. "Look in that folder and pick your fancy."
"Are any of them veterans?"
"Not to my knowledge," Lance answered. "But they're all brilliant strategists in battle, and I'm sure they could be of some assistance to you."
"All right," Surge sighed. "Send one in."
Lance nodded and promptly left. Surge sat down and flicked to a random page in the folder Lance had given him:
Bugsy Jayne
Azalea Town Gym Leader
Scizzor
Shuckle
Heracross
Pinsir
Forretress
Yanmega
Chuck Green
Cianwood City Gym Leader
Poliwrath
Machamp
Primeape
Hitmontop
Hitmonchan
Hitmonlee
Suddenly, the door slid open again, and in came a young woman with sharp, green eyes and long, dark hair. Surge recognized her as Sabrina, the Saffron City Gym Leader, and he rose to greet her.
"Lance sent me," she stated plainly.
"Right," Surge said with a nod as he went to shake your hand. "It's Sabrina, isn't it? You specialize in Psychic-types."
"I, myself am Psychic," she added. Surge craned an eyebrow at her.
"That so?" He let out an awkward, doubtful chuckle. "Well, in that case, could'ya take a glance into the future and see how this whole thing is gonna go down?"
She stared, and Surge sucked in his breath and turned away.
"Well, if you wanna help, take this here and look through it while I examine this blueprint," he said, holding the folder over his shoulder.
She didn't move.
"I will tell you one thing," she began, and Surge looked at her strangely.
"That is?"
"Moltres will not be there," she said. "Take that into account."
Winona pressed her hand against the glass and found herself looking down at a large, crystal blue abyss. They had recently crossed over the Kanto shoreline and were now passing over the ocean, straight toward Hoenn. She hadn't known. She had been napping at the beginning of trip, attempting to restore the energy lost from waking at such an early hour.
"It is majestic, isn't it?"
Winona didn't turn around. Her eyes flicked upward, and she saw Wallace's reflection in the glass as he stood behind her.
"The Battle Pyramid is ingenious," she commented. "I've never seen anything quite like it. Did Brandon engineer it himself?"
"I don't know," Wallace admitted. "He knows how to pilot it, though, if that's any indication."
The Fortree City Gym Leader didn't respond.
"I'm really glad you're here," Wallace continued, filling the silence.
Winona slid her hand down the glass and slowly turned to face the Champion with an indiscernible expression.
"I felt it was my duty to come," she responded, mellow.
"Nevertheless," Wallace went on, "I haven't seen you in a while. The circumstances are not ideal, but I am glad anyway."
"Wallace!"
Both he and Winona turned to see who had called.
"Juan, Fantina," Wallace regarded politely as the two approached.
Fantina's arm was wrapped around Juan's, and they had abandoned their usual, elegant dress for more weather-appropriate attire—or rather, battle-appropriate attire.
"How are you?" Juan greeted pleasantly.
"I'm well," Wallace said. "Was there something you needed?"
"To the point, hm?" Juan teased, though he knew precisely why his former student was in a rush to send him and Fantina away. The Sootopolis City Gym Leader's eyes flicked briefly over to Winona, and she perked up.
"Yes, actually," Juan continued. "Fantina and I both feel a little fuzzy as to what our responsibilities will be once we reach Shroomish Forest, and we're wondering if you could possibly clarify it for us."
"To my knowledge, Lance is meeting with Surge right now, trying to figure out our strategy," Wallace answered. "Surge is a former army CO, so we wanted him at the helm of planning today's operation."
"Only now are they devising their plan?" Fantina was disturbed. "C'est inquiétant."
"It was not my call," Wallace admitted.
"Not your call?" Juan raised an eyebrow. "Well, do you know if we will all meet together after said strategy is completed?"
"I imagine so," Wallace replied.
"You're not sure?"
"Well..." Wallace suddenly felt as though his entire stature had been reduced, seeing the looks Wallace, Fantina, and Winona were giving him. He realized these were questions to which he should have definitive answers, but he simply didn't.
Juan's lips tightened, and Fantina cast him a quick, sideways glance.
"Come, Winona," Fantina redirected her attention to the Flying-type trainer after a moment. "We should catch up."
Winona nodded, and they quickly headed off together. Juan watched them go before facing Wallace with a serious expression, and the Hoenn Champion sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Tell me, Wallace," Juan began calmly, "Do you feel it's fair to send a large group of people—no matter how experienced they are as trainers—into battle when there's no guidance prepared?"
"There will be guidance," Wallace insisted.
"You're not sure," Juan repeated.
"I do not appreciate the chastisement," Wallace said. "I am not a teenager anymore."
"I'm not chastising you," Juan clarified. "I am merely asking you a question."
Wallace's hand fell to his side, and he looked his former mentor straight in the eye.
"No," he said.
"Then why?"
"I don't..." Wallace paused, struggling to find an answer—an answer beyond 'I don't know.' Something substantive; something that did not reek of his own naïvety and unpreparedness.
"Because it was not your call?" Juan suggested.
"I trust Lance," Wallace defended.
"There's nothing wrong with that. Lance is undoubtedly a brilliant and compelling leader," Juan said. "However, you do not answer to Lance."
Wallace looked at Juan strangely. He knew he should have known that, but he supposed he hadn't realized it. At least, not until someone, just now, had told him.
"I believe I understand what has happened here," Juan continued.
"You do?"
"Yes," Juan nodded. "When Steven yielded the Championship title to you, he took a hands-off approach during the transition and placed a lot of distance between you and him, because he didn't want to make you feel like he was attempting to undermine your authority. His intentions were admirable, but the unfortunate result was you did not receive the guidance you needed to be a Champion and leader of a G-Men branch. As such, you are unsure of your capabilities, of which Lance is fully aware and willing to take advantage."
Wallace remained silent.
"Mind you, I am not suggesting Lance is a bad person, but he is determined to be right and determined to have things done his way," Juan went on. "Admittedly, this isn't always a terrible thing. There's no denying he is good at what he does. But there are inevitable problems that arise when one person leads without restraint. Biases prevail. Mistakes are made. Things fall through the cracks."
Wallace blinked. He realized Juan was likely referring to the bus crash in which the fourteen trainers died, but his mind immediately connected his mentor's words to a different, though related matter: Leaf's disobedience and the disappearance of those same fourteen trainers from the G-Men's radar.
"Men like Lance need to be surrounded by smart people who disagree with him," Juan continued.
"That's what Cynthia's for," Wallace broke in.
"Cynthia is one person," Juan reminded him. "Alder is a good man, but he avoids contention like the plague, and if you, yourself will never contest Lance's opinion, she will always be outnumbered."
Wallace, once again, said nothing.
"Remember, Wallace: You are the leader of Hoenn. You deserve respect, and you have the right to be a part of the conversation. Don't let yourself become an 'other' to Lance," Juan said firmly. Wallace straightened up, and Juan, with a half-smile, finished, "Let me know when you and the others have a plan."
"Well, either you've had a few too many sweets since I last saw you, or you're pregnant!"
Cynthia slowly brought her eyes up to the speaker: Flint, a member of the Elite Four in her region. Volkner was standing nearby with an exasperated expression, embarrassed his companion had greeted the Champion in such a manner.
"Always a pleasure to see you, Flint," she said dryly.
"Hey, don't give me that look, Cynthia," the redhead began, grinning. "I know what you're thinking, and you don't need to tell me. I may be a batter for the other team, but I still know the two unspoken rules of women: (1) Never ask them how old they are; (2) Never ask them whether they're pregnant."
"Well, now they're spoken," Volkner muttered under his breath.
"But," Flint plowed on, "Volkner said he was 99.9 percent sure you were, so I was willing to take my chances."
Volkner gave him a disbelieving, 'Oh Arceus, why did you have to bring me into this?' look. Cynthia couldn't help but smile and chuckle.
"Well, you're both very lucky men, because I'm a little more than four months in."
"Ah..." Volkner snapped his attention back to her. "That's really great news, Cynthia. Congratulations."
"Yeah!" Flint agreed. "Funny thing, though, you'd think something like that would get around pretty fast. I hadn't heard anything about it."
"Steven and I have kept it pretty low-key."
"I see." Volkner inclined his head toward her. "Does this mean you won't be joining us today?"
"Yes," Cynthia confirmed. "I'm staying on the Battle Pyramid once we land. I'll be overseeing communication between here and all of you while you're in the Team Rocket base."
"By yourself?"
"Of course not. Aside from some G-Men agents, a Pokémon Watcher named Tracey Sketchit and his girlfriend, Daisy Waterflower, will be staying behind with me, too," Cynthia explained. "So, you two will need to knock out an extra Rocket grunt's Pokémon in my stead."
"Ha!" Flint gave her a thumbs-up. "You know you can count on us!"
When Steven saw them—his former colleagues, the Hoenn gym leaders—his first instinct was to warmly greet them and lead the way for friendly conversation, which would serve to distract from any potential anxieties regarding their upcoming mission. Yet, as soon as he turned, he felt his confidence deflate, thinking it would perhaps be inappropriate or uncomfortable. After all, they had not seen too much of him since his move to Sinnoh.
He was about to head in the opposite direction. Then he heard his name called.
"Steven! Steven, come talk to us!"
The invitation came from Brawly.
Steven let out a sigh and smiled before turning to face the group, which comprised Brawly, Roxanne, Watson, Flannery, and the twins, Tate and Liza.
"Brawly, it's good to see you again," the former Hoenn Champion said as he strode toward the group. He and the Dewford Gym Leader clasped hands and gave each other a quick, rough embrace, before Steven turned to face the rest. "It's good to see all of you again."
"It's been years, hasn't it?" Roxanne smiled.
"It has," Steven concurred. "How are your studies at the Pokémon Trainer's School in Rustboro?"
"They're great! I'm graduating in the Spring."
"Aw, Roxie, you didn't tell him the best part," Brawly teased with a grin. "She's graduating top of her class; the Valedictorian!"
"Brawly!" Roxanne's cheeks tinted pink, though she did seem quite proud.
"Really? That's wonderful, Roxanne. You deserve it with how hard you've worked," Steven said before turning an eye to the twins. "Tate, Liza—how have you and your parents been?"
"We're awesome!" Liza answered.
"Mom and Dad miss you at the Mossdeep Space Center, though," Tate added. "You were always a big help with your research on space rocks and stuff."
"Tell them I send them my regards."
Steven then glanced at Flannery, whose eyes were shyly glued to the ground. She was the last to attain the position of gym leader before Steven left his Championship title. As a result, he was probably the least close with her of all the Hoenn gym leaders. Yet, he knew and was good friends with her predecessor, and as such was aware of her initial issues with finding her style as a gym leader.
Steven inclined his head toward her and inquired, "Flannery?"
"Ah, yes?" Flannery stood up straight.
"I've heard good things from your grandfather about the gym," Steven continued. "Do you feel you've settled in?"
"Yes, I think so." She nodded quickly.
"Good. I'm glad for that."
The Lavaridge Gym Leader relaxed, and suddenly, she couldn't contain her smile.
"Thank you, sir," she said.
"Well, enough about us, Steven!" Watson broke in, giving the Steel-type specialist a friendly slap on the back. "What've you been up to? I couldn't help but notice that Cynthia..." His voice trailed off, and Steven let out a breathy chuckle.
"Yes, we are expecting," Steven confirmed.
"Really?" Roxanne brightened.
"That's super-" Liza began.
"-exciting!" Tate finished.
"That's great news. I'm happy for ya," Watson added, flashing his million-dollar grin and letting out a hearty laugh. "Nothin' quite like havin' a new baby in the family! Recently became a grandpa myself. Ah, but this is your and Cynthia's first, isn't it?"
"It is," Steven affirmed.
"You nervous?" Brawly asked.
"A little," Steven admitted. He felt enough at ease to sit down. "But I'm more excited than anything."
"You should be," Roxanne insisted. "You'll be a great father."
Hearing such warmed him, and he melted into another smile. It was as if nothing had changed. He was at home again.
"I have to thank you all for coming today," Alder said, sitting among several of his own gym leaders. "It is..." He paused to carefully choose his words. He refused to betray his own feelings. "...greatly appreciated."
"Hn, I think we should be thankin' you, Alder. I think we all have wanted a piece of the action for a while now, a chance to get back at Team Rocket. Sons'a bitches, all of 'em," Clay groused. "Yup, I'm glad you asked us to come, Alder."
"Do you suspect Moltres will be there?" Elesa asked, crossing her legs.
"Can't say for sure," Alder replied.
"Well, here's to hoping," Brycen commented. "It would be a shame if after all this effort, nothing changed."
"Even if Moltres isn't there, we will have accomplished something," Burgh pointed out. "It is no small feat to bring down an entire branch of a criminal organization."
"A branch?" Skyla glanced at Alder. "Does that mean there's more of them?"
"Again, nothin's for sure," Alder answered calmly, "but I'll admit my gut feeling tells me yes."
"Well, if that's the case," Lenora began, "please, do not hesitate to reach out again. I want to help as much as possible."
"Same here," Roxie added. "You know, Alder, I'm glad you asked us to be here, too. I'm looking forward to kicking some serious Team Rocket butt."
Alder offered the Virbank City Gym Leader a crooked grin but said nothing. This was not how he wanted it to happen. In fact, he would have preferred there be no fighting at all.
"So, a little birdie told me you're engaged," Gardenia teased, sliding up next to Maylene. Roark had followed the Eterna City Gym Leader closely behind and was standing nearby. Maylene smiled and resisted a laugh. The Grass-type specialist had always been outgoing and friendly to her whenever they crossed paths.
"What little birdie is this?" Maylene asked.
"Well, the rings helps," Gardenia admitted. "Still..." She glanced at Roark. "... you'd be surprised, but Byron, Roark's father, is a bit of a gossip."
"I wouldn't go that far." Roark craned an eyebrow.
"Right, sorry," Gardenia amended. "He just says things—little hints n' stuff—hoping Roark'll get the message that he needs to find himself a lady friend." Gardenia wriggled her eyebrows at the Rock-type trainer suggestively, and he rolled his eyes.
"Oh Mew," he muttered, though he couldn't help but smile, too.
"Well, I suppose that's what you have each other for," Maylene said, and Gardenia immediately busted up laughing. Roark glowered at her.
"Yeah, I suppose so," she finally agreed. "Oh Roark, don't give me that look. It was a joke. Anyway—" Gardenia leaned closer toward Maylene. "—who is the guy?"
"Ah... Reggie Rebolledo," Maylene answered. "He and I have known each other since he moved to Veilstone eight years ago. He's a breeder."
"Rebolledo..." Roark mused. "Any relation to Paul Rebolledo?"
"Yes. He's his older brother," Maylene answered. She quickly amended, "Was his older brother." She mentally chastised herself. Past tense. She needed to remember to speak in the past tense.
"Oh..." Gardenia's face fell.
"That whole thing is just a shame," Roark sighed. "Though, I suppose it's part of the reason why we're here today, right?"
Maylene paused to think over her answer.
"Part of it," she finally decided upon.
"Excuse me," a young woman with long, light brown hair broke in, drawing in Solidad and Harley's attention as they passed by, "but I think I recognize you. You're Solidad Natochenny, right?"
"Yes, that's right," Solidad affirmed with a quick nod as she and Harley stopped. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm afraid I can't recall meeting you before."
"Oh, that's because we haven't. My name is Jasmine Rosenfield. I'm the gym leader in Olivine City, Johto." She extended her hand toward Solidad. "I've been a fan ever since I saw your performance in the Kanto Grand Festival. I have a mild interest in contests, and while I was on leave from the gym last year, I went to Sinnoh and entered a few."
"That's wonderful." Solidad shook the gym leader's hand. "I always think it's good to expand your horizons."
"Hey hun," Harley drew out his words as he leaned toward Jasmine. "Recognize me?"
"Of course," Jasmine answered. "You're Harley Rannells. You just won the Johto Grand Festival, didn't you?"
"Ding ding ding!" Harley grinned. "Right you are!"
"Was there a reason you wanted to talk to us?" Solidad inquired affably.
"I actually just wanted to offer you my condolences," Jasmine admitted. "I heard you and Drew Hayden were very close."
Solidad's breath caught. She had not expected to be confronted by this again. She thought it would all be over after the Grand Festival. She thought that she could expend all her energy putting on a solemn face for that one period, and then she wouldn't have to worry about it again. She reached into her personal reserve for more mourning, but she found there was little, if nothing, left.
"Yes," she finally said.
"Are you all right?"
"I've been well, actually."
"You have?"
"Ah... yes." Solidad realized that was not the right thing to say. At least, it was not the easy thing to say. She searched for an explanation. "I've been able to feel more at peace because of G-Men's progress on the case."
"Progress?"
Solidad mentally stumbled.
"Well, you know, the G-Men made an arrest just a couple of days ago—Drew's father." Solidad stopped short. Again, she was saying the wrong thing. Not only was she saying the wrong thing, she was saying something she wasn't supposed to say.
Harley cast her a curious sideways glance, also knowing she was saying too much. He, of course, would not step in to stop her.
"Really?" Jasmine was genuinely surprised. "I didn't know that. His own father?"
"It's a... very messy case." Solidad quickly looked down and then back up. "Well, it's been very nice talking to you. I'm sure we'll see you later."
"Right," Jasmine agreed. "Nice meeting you."
Solidad quickly hurried away with Harley in tow after that. As soon as they were alone, she quickly turned to face him and said:
"Don't let me do that again."
Harley smirked.
"Why not? It's fun to see the G-Men's plan finally begin to collapse in on itself."
"Brandon." The Pyramid King glanced upward at Brock, who was approaching. The former Pewter City Gym Leader continued, "Lance sent me to ask where we're landing, specifically."
"Specifically, I don't know," Brandon responded.
"Adam Surge needs to know for planning our strategy of attack," Brock elaborated. Brandon groaned.
"This is what happens when we do things last-minute," he groused, shaking his head. "All right, give me a few to figure it out. I'll give Lance my answer once I've reached a decision."
Brock nodded and turned to leave, but not before noticing that the Pike Queen, Lucy Williams, was standing next to her fellow Frontier Brain, Anabel Thomas. Brock nearly swooned at the sight of the dark-haired beauty, and of course he had to speak to her.
"Ah, Lucy," he greeted suavely, taking one of her hands into his. "It's been far too long."
Anabel gave him the strangest look, but Lucy seemed mildly amused, flattered even.
"Hello, Brock," she said. "I see you haven't changed a bit."
"But you have," Brock cooed. "You've grown more beautiful since our last meeting."
"Oh stop." Lucy flushed pink, embarrassed. "Tell you what: After today, you can go ahead and give me a call, and we'll have lunch together sometime."
Brock's demeanor brightened twofold at the proposition, while Lucy obtained a sharpie from her bag and wrote her number on Brock's arm. He almost melted at her touch, and then happily drifted away to attend to his on-board duties. As soon as he was gone, Anabel let out a disbelieving laugh.
"You're kidding me, right?" she asked Lucy.
"What?" Lucy knitted her eyebrows together and looked at the girl, bemused. "What's wrong?"
"Interesting choice, that's all."
"He's cute," Lucy insisted.
"Well, good thing someone thinks so," Reggie said, strolling toward the two female Frontier Brains, who both looked to the Veilstone trainer in surprise.
"Reggie," Lucy regarded, recognizing him. "I haven't seen you in years. What are you doing here?"
"Ah... well, Brandon's my father." Reggie took the short, easy answer rather than the long-winded explanation about his involvement with the case.
"Really?" Lucy's brow shot up, and she glanced toward the Pyramid King. "Brandon, I didn't know you had a son."
"I had two," he responded, and the implication rendered both Lucy and Anabel silent. Brandon was silent himself for a long moment before turning toward his first-born. "Reggie, I'm glad you're here. Lance needs the specific location for where we're landing, and I want your help."
"My help?" Reggie blinked.
"Yes, your help," Brandon answered. "Who else?"
Reggie watched his father warily for a long moment, unsure of what to make of him and his invitation. Then, his defenses fell apart, and he nodded.
"You know," Drayden began, taking up residence beside Clair. "I'm surprised Lance let you come here. You'd think he'd be worried someone might ask questions of why you aren't at Dragon's Den with the children."
Clair's head snapped up.
"Uncle-" she began with wide eyes, realizing he was indirectly referring to himself.
"-You can spare me an explanation," Drayden said calmly. "I knew they weren't with you the moment I saw you here."
Clair exhaled, taking a moment to consider what she should say, now that Drayden had deflated her original approach.
"How did you know they were even alive?"
"I figured that it was a conspiracy long ago, but Lance told me himself."
"Ah." She glanced down at her nervously clenched fists before looking back at the Opelucid City Gym Leader. "I think... I think Lance just has so much on his plate that he probably didn't think it through entirely—inviting me, I mean."
"If that's so, why didn't you decline?" Drayden inquired.
"Because I wanted to come," Clair shrugged. "Moreover, it's not my prerogative to do damage control for Lance."
Drayden raised his brow.
"You were about to," he pointed out.
Clair cast her gaze down and said nothing.
February 6th, 2002. Late Morning. At Sea.
"All right, so here's the deal-" Leaf stopped short as her head swayed with queasiness, and she placed her face down in her hands, trying to make the dizziness stop. Gary let out a sigh and placed his hand on her shoulder, guiding her to a sitting position.
"OK, you just... relax," he said. "I'll take it from here. Here's the deal-" The researcher suddenly stopped, too. "Geez, I can't see anything down here. Can we get some light?"
"Are we ever actually going to hear what the 'deal' is, or are you two going to keep interrupting yourselves?" Paul grumbled in the darkness.
"I would just like to see your face while you're speaking, in case I need to punch it," Gary said dryly.
Drew emitted a groan from somewhere in the hold, and he let out his Absol and ordered a Flash.
"Thank you," Gary said, though he and many others winced from the sudden, bright light. "Back to what I was saying: We are now approaching the Sinnoh shoreline." A couple of happy breaths brushed across the group, particularly from the females. "But the problem is that we do not have a plan as to how we're going to get off without being seen. We need ideas."
"Shouldn't we have figured this out days ago?" Silver mumbled.
"You know, you're right Silver," Gary said in mocking praise. "Of course, I'm sure you realized this before any of us and formulated a plan yourself?"
Silver said nothing.
"Thought so," Gary said tautly. "Again, ideas?"
"Well..." May was the first to speak. "Maybe another storm? I mean, it worked one time."
"And you know what they say," Zoey added. "Don't fix if it isn't broken."
"All right," Gary said with a nod. "Does anyone have a Pokémon that knows the move Blizzard?" Silence. Gary let out a frustrated sigh. "No one? Nearly a hundred Pokémon divided among us, and not one knows Blizzard?"
"Don't be so close-minded. It doesn't have to be just Blizzard," Trip interjected. "A Pokémon that knows Rain Dance would probably work just fine, too. If Sinnoh really is as cold as that girl made it out to be, a Rain Dance will turn out snow. It won't be a Blizzard, but it might have the same effect of sending people inside..."
"Trip, that's brilliant!" Cilan commended. Iris, however, wasn't so keen on the idea of more icy weather, and she let out a shiver at the mere thought.
"It's just common sense..." Trip downplayed it.
"OK, then does anyone have a Pokémon that knows Rain Dance?" Gary asked.
"My Politoed does," Misty said.
"Great," Gary let out a relieved sigh. "Then we should be good to go."
"No, we're not," Leaf moaned. Her voice was muffled as her head remained tucked into her knees. "The crew members. We need to remember the crew members. They weren't on board when Ursula first let us on. They will be when we get off. The storm only takes care of the problem of running into potential passengers to Johto and people in town. We should take that into consideration."
Another brief period of silence followed as the group mulled over this new issue. Then:
"We could always drug them," Drew said.
"Thank you, Drew, for your completely unhelpful suggestion," Gary grumbled, rolling his eyes.
"I'm being serious," the male coordinator persisted. "Wait, look here—" He paused to rummage through his bag, and after a moment's delay, he pulled out a half-full medicinal container. The other half had spilled the night Mewtwo attacked that Maple residence in Petalburg City. "This is Butterfree Sleeping Powder. It's a very powerful narcotic. Normally, a Bug-type's Sleeping Powder puts you to sleep from external contact, but this is manufactured with the intention of it being ingested. You slip this in someone's drink or food, and they'll be out."
"Isn't that illegal?" Dawn asked.
"So is stowing away on a ship."
"Touché."
"Anyway," Drew continued, "what we can do is start a Rain Dance right before we arrive at the port. Hopefully that'll keep the crew members on board, waiting for the storm to pass. At some point, they've got to eat, but their food will be laced with the Sleeping Powder. Then we're free to leave the hold and get off without any fears that some crew member will catch us in the process."
The other trainers took a moment to process the proposition, weighing the pros and cons in their mind.
"You know, Hayden," Gary finally admitted. "It's so crazy that it just might work."
February 6th, 2002. Noon. Battle Pyramid.
"Lance, if I could have just a moment-" Wallace caught the Indigo Champion in a hurried blur. The Water Master had been looking for him in the pyramid for a while now, and this was the first he had seen of him in the hours since they'd left.
"-Not now, Wallace," Lance cut him off, continuing on his way without as much as a glance.
"It's important, Lance. I think you can spare me a moment," Wallace persisted, following him. Lance stopped and let out a heavy, frustrated sigh before turning to face him.
"What is it?" he demanded. Wallace inhaled.
"I..." The Hoenn Champion paused to gather his confidence. "I think we need to delay our mission."
"I don't have time for this," Lance grumbled, giving Wallace no chance to elaborate as he turned around. The former Sootopolis City Gym Leader was not ready to give up just yet, though.
"Do not dismiss me, Lance," Wallace said, and the angry tone caught Lance by surprise and prompted him to turn back around. Realizing he had Lance's attention, Wallace continued, "I talked to Juan. We are now just two hours away from reaching Shroomish Forest, and not a person on this pyramid seems to have the slightest clue of what we'll be doing once we get there."
"We will before we get there."
"We're rushing it."
"Arceus Wallace, couldn't you have taken issue with this earlier?"
"Maybe I would have if you'd given me the opportunity. You've never taken my opinion into consideration, much less asked for it."
"It's not my job to take a survey of your thoughts and feelings on every problem we encounter," Lance retorted. "I'm here to take down the world's largest criminal organization. I'm not playing the role of a nice guy."
Wallace let out an irked sigh, having no response to that.
"Can I have an explanation, then?" he asked. "I think you owe me at least that."
Lance stared, but after a moment's delay, he supposed he could acquiesce.
"I realize it is rushed," he admitted, "but if we waited longer, if we made more time for meticulous planning... Giovanni would grow more impatient. I don't know how he managed to get ahold of that number. If he could do that, well, there's no telling what else he could get his hands on—including those same plans. So, while today may be a rush, it will also be a surprise."
Wallace, again, didn't have a reply. In the space of his silence, Sabrina entered the situation, noticing that the two Champions appeared to be in contempt with each other.
"Pardon me for interrupting, sir," she said cautiously, drawing in both men's attention, "but Officer Surge has completed our strategy. He is prepared to share and explain it to all those on board."
"Excellent. Thank you, Sabrina," Lance told her wearily before looking back at Wallace. "Please gather everyone together."
He then left with Sabrina, following as they returned to the room in which Surge had been stationed all morning.
"Do you know if he pinpointed the possible locations for Moltres?" Lance asked.
Her lips tightened.
February 6th, 2002. Afternoon. At Sea.
"Politoed, use Rain Dance."
The clouds came in quickly, and the snow followed soon thereafter in damp, icy clumps. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could do. Misty looked out at the approaching Chocovine Town port for a moment longer before pulling her hood up and turning to face the person behind her: Ash.
He watched her as she did all this, but when she faced him, he became entranced. Misty and water were two things that went well together; like how peanut butter and jelly went together, or ketchup and fries. Such remained true in any context, as the soppy weather curled her vibrant red hair into tiny tendrils that clung to her face.
"Do you think this is gonna work?" Ash asked after shaking his self-labeled 'weird' thoughts off. Pikachu, who was situated on his trainer's shoulder, appeared confused by the boy's behavior.
Misty frowned and looked up at the sky.
"It's going to have to," she said.
"Sparky, would you check around the corner for us and make sure no one's there?"
The Pikachu happily obliged to his trainer's request and went ahead to peer down the hallway. Ritchie and Drew had been exploring the ship, looking for the kitchen, for nearly ten minutes. Yet, their lack of success was steadily increasing their anxiety and self-doubt. The more time they spent out and about the ship, exposed, the more time there was for someone to find them.
Sparky turned and gave the trainers a thumbs-up.
"Pika Pi!"
"Thanks Sparky," Ritchie said, and the two trainers went forward. They wove down several more corridors to no avail. Then, finally, a sign—or rather, a smell.
"Hey, wait a sec." Ritchie paused, forcing Drew to stop as well. "Do you smell that? It smells like..."
"... someone's cooking," Drew finished. The two trainers exchanged quick glances before moving head, following the warm, delicious scent. The trail was not without reward, as they soon happened upon an open-door kitchen. The trainers cautiously peeked inside to see one heavyset man working at a stove near the back.
"Well, what now?" Drew asked.
"Maybe we should distract him?"
"How?"
Ritchie rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking. Then, as soon as inspiration struck, he glanced at Sparky and ordered the Electric-type to use Volt Tackle against the wall ahead of them. Sparky nodded and, bursting with confidence, leapt from his trainer's shoulder and charged toward the wall at full speed.
Several strings of curses were let out as the ship suddenly tilted to the left, and the trainers and Pokémon and boxes left in the hold tipped along with it. They fell in a heap against the wall.
"Sheesh, what was that?" Barry demanded, groaning in mild pain. Someone was crushing his leg. "I'm obviously gonna have to hand out a fine somewhere!"
"I dunno," Trip answered his question, "but let's hope it does not happen again."
Ritchie and Drew, too, lost their balance and hit the wall with a loud 'thud.'
"Arceus, you couldn't have given me some warning?" Drew grumbled as he rubbed his head.
"Sorry," Ritchie said sheepishly.
"What the-" The booming voice of the chef could be heard from inside the kitchen, and a series of hard footsteps soon followed.
"Great, now he's coming."
"Yeah, I could've thought this through better," Ritchie admitted as he and Drew staggered to their feet.
Sparky quickly scurried back to his trainer, and Drew desperately looked around for an escape route. Instead, he saw a small, closet door, and he dove for the handle. By some stroke of luck, it was unlocked, and he quickly ushered Ritchie and himself inside just before the chef came stalking out, angrily muttering, "Is this some kind of joke?"
They watched him through the vent and waited for him to disappear around the corner before leaving their safe space. They scrambled to get inside the kitchen, and Drew fumbled for his bottle of Butterfree Sleeping Powder, unscrewing the cap. A large pot of soup was boiling on the stove, and some of its red broth had splashed out as a result of the Volt Tackle.
Drew quickly poured the entire contents of the medicinal bottle into the pot. Ritchie made a grab for a nearby spoon and stirred the bluish powder into the red liquid, until it disappeared. Their job done, they left as quickly as they came—all without being seen, which was, in and of itself, a miracle.
February 6th, 2002. Afternoon. Team Rocket Base - Hoenn.
It had been nothing more than a normal day.
Rocket Grunts moved about the offices casually, as they usually did. They went on fulfilling their duties, finishing their assigned tasks, like cogs in a machine, grinding along at a steady pace. When a crash echoed from elsewhere in the building, no one flinched. A few paused to wonder what had happened, but most presumed it was probably a minor accident. Such wasn't terribly uncommon.
Only Archer, the head executive of the Hoenn location, did anything in response to the disturbance. He picked up the phone on his desk and punched a couple of numbers in.
"Yes, hello, can you redirect me to the department of-" He stopped short when he realized that, for some odd reason, the number he had tried was no longer in service. He pulled the phone away from his ear, confused. He dialed it again, but it gave the same result.
Archer let out a long sigh and placed the phone back on its hook. He supposed he would have to go find out what happened in person. As he headed into the hallway, he heard another crash—this time, it was closer. Archer, as well as many other Rocket employees, became vastly more concerned in the second instance. The teal-haired man quickened his pace toward the door but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw several trainers and their Pokémon barreling toward them through the window panel.
Before he had a chance to speak, much less react, the doors flew open as a Dragonite stormed inside and unleashed a Hyper Beam. Archer dove out of the way just in time. He looked to see the powerful energy beam tear up the path in which he had stood, its mere force sending papers flying. Then he saw him, for only an instant, but it was all he needed to see.
"Lance?" he muttered under his breath, horrified. He ducked under a desk as the Indigo Champion and several others passed by with their Pokémon. He then grabbed the phone off the desk above him and tried the numbers to several different departments.
"The G-Men have found us," he muttered seriously into the receiver once he found one that worked. "Destroy the computers. Erase everything, shred and burn everything."
He promptly hung up after that and, touching the gun kept on his waist, he cautiously rose to his feet and hurried out the door from which the G-Men had entered.
February 6th, 2002. Afternoon. Battle Pyramid.
"This is Cynthia Stone at the Battle Pyramid," the Sinnoh Champion spoke calmly and clearly as she received yet another radio call. She had a single headphone pressed to her left ear to receive transmissions, while her other remained uncovered so she could hear and make exchanges with others who had stayed behind in the pyramid. "State your name and location."
"This is Falkner Mitler, and I'm in room 317."
"Is there anyone with you?"
"Whitney Hollingshead and Morty Rannells."
"What's happening, Falkner?"
"We've detained a Rocket grunt, and we've swept the room."
"Have you seen Moltres?"
"No, er, negative."
Cynthia frowned, her shoulders sagging.
"Thank you, Falkner," she said, ending the transmission. She then looked to Tracey and Daisy, who were standing at a table with the Hoenn blueprint spread out in front of them.
"That's a negative on 317," the Champion said. Tracey marked an 'X' covering the entire room. It had become familiar practice at that point. It was the twenty-fourth 'X' he and Daisy had made. Daisy stared blankly at the paper before lifting her head to make eye contact with the Sinnoh Champion.
"Moltres isn't going to be there, is it?" Daisy's voice cracked into tiny, disappointed pieces as she said this, and Cynthia looked at the blonde solemnly for a long moment before answering another call on the radio.
February 6th, 2002. Late Afternoon. Chocovine Town.
"Hey!" The hatch was thrown open, and there stood Ritchie and Drew outside the hold, drenched from the watery snowfall. Ash and Misty appeared behind the two with their respective Pokémon, looking on curiously. Drew continued, "We're good to go! The crew's asleep."
"Are you sure?" Leaf staggered to her feet.
"Yes," Ritchie. "We saw it. We checked the staff dining room when we saw the soup being carried off to be served, and they're definitely asleep. Like, the passed out in their food kind of asleep."
"Aw, man!" Kenny grinned. "Ritchie and Drew win heroes of the day!"
"Well, thank Mew, became I am ready to get out of here," Zoey sighed, relieved. The trainers then began moving to exit the hold, and most found the freedom so welcoming that they didn't mind the weather.
"Careful, the deck's really slick," Misty warned her peers as they emerged, and as soon as she said it, Barry, in his rush, slipped and fell straight back on his bottom. She sighed. "What did I tell you?"
"Let's just get off this boat and out of Chocovine Town as soon as possible," Leaf mumbled as Dawn and Kenny helped Barry up. She turned to watch Trip and Paul work to unlock the chains on the gangplank and let it down.
February 6th, 2002. Early Evening. Location Unknown.
"I still don't have exact numbers as to how many were detained," Domino's voice wavered as she spoke. Although they couldn't see each other—they were on the phone—his silence was terrifying. When he was angry, he yelled. When he was furious, he was quiet and calm, though inwardly seething. It was when he was at his most dangerous. "But, um... from early counts, it does not look too good. There were some that managed to escape without being captured by the G-Men, but not many."
Domino herself had not been present at the Hoenn base—she was stationed elsewhere—but the frantic calls from lower-level grunts began pouring into her and other distinguished Team Rocket members' offices soon after the siege began.
"The good news is that I've been receiving reports that much—if not all—sensitive material was destroyed internally before the G-Men could get their hands on it," she continued.
"Good." It was the first thing Giovanni had said in a while. "Have either you, Petrel, or Proton spoken to Archer yet?"
Domino felt her gut clench. She had dreaded this question, though she knew it would come.
"Sir," she began slowly, swallowing, "Archer is dead with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head."
Silence.
"Thank you, Agent 009," he said cordially after a long moment. "We'll speak about this later."
He disconnected the call and slowly rose to his feet, fists clenched. He turned to face Mewtwo, who stood in his full suit of mechanical armor without need for restraint. He would not run. To run would be to disobey, and he could not disobey.
Giovanni knew Archer's death was actually good news. It was better he were dead than captured. He, as a Rocket executive, was a treasure trove of information; information that would ruin everything they had planned thus far. Archer understood that, which was presumably why he'd taken action to protect such information. The capture of lower-level grunts, while painful, would not be such a hard blow. The Hoenn location was small. While some had knowledge Giovanni would have preferred Lance not have access to, it would not mean the organization's end.
"It's time to up the ante," he said as his eyes fixated on the clone. "We need to begin making plans for a new capture."
Mewtwo, of course, did not respond. He was no longer capable of sentient thought. He had become a mere shell of his former self.
.
.