The days pass as our training with Josh and company continues. As to be expected, progress is slow at first. His expectations on what battles are like needs to be changed. Less about overwhelming strength, more strength tempered with a tactical approach. About reading one's opposition and seeing the chinks in their armor that can be used to his advantage. According to Thunder, his side of training goes well. Much of his focus is aimed at showing them how to "read the room" so to speak and showing them when to strike and when to dodge. These skills should be of great use to them when they start going into competitive matches.
Meanwhile the day of the tournament approaches. Thunder, Growlithe, Mewtwo and I have planned out our approach. They're likely to strike in the early morning before the crowd gathers and most of the equipment and pokemon are on location. So that's when we will be there. I won't ask Jackson to join us on the mission itself. If it turns out to be a no show on Rocket's part he should be there to enjoy the event with Josh.
Once there the four of us will spread out and keep watch, using Mewtwo's telepathy for quick communication. Once spotted we follow them back to wherever they operate out of, organize a breakout, and scour the place for clues. And if all else fails, at least rescue whomever they kidnap from the tournament grounds.
Soon the time comes. We wake before dawn and pack our things before heading into town. The event is being hosted in the track and field of a local school. Bleachers line the oval track standing at a modest height over the flat field with a pokeball emblem painted on the grass in the center. I've noticed that pattern almost everywhere I go. On storefronts, floor tile patterns, advertising, even products. It's strange to see it nearly everywhere I go, but I've grown fairly used to it over time.
"Security seems unusually lax here." Thunder comments.
"According to Jackson this event isn't particularly well funded. Guess they couldn't afford it." I reply.
"Even after Rocket's sudden rise?"
"Without funding there's not much that can be done."
On the east side of the field I see a brick shed likely used to store sports supplies. It's a fair bet that pokeballs are in there too. That will be a point of interest to keep an eye on.
"There." I point the shed out. "That's probably where the thieves will strike. "Mewtwo, take position on the roof of the school. You're our eyes in the sky. Keep watch and stay out of sight."
"Understood." They levitate up off the ground and soar over to the school building, landing gracefully. I feel a strange sensation in my head as their telepathy takes hold, as if part of three other consciousnesses have seeped into my brain and were taking up space. Everyone ready? I say mentally to test the connection. I feel three other voices echo in affirmation in my head. Communication without a single spoken word. Awesome.
Alright then. You all know the plan. We all nod and split up, sticking generally around the shack. I take position under one of the bleachers while Thunder and Growlithe hide in a patch of tall grass that the groundskeeper apparently couldn't be bothered to deal with. With everyone in position the hard part comes, the waiting.
An hour passes with no sign of Rocket. Several of the trainers have arrived hoping to get in some quick training before the matches. And as I suspected, they're using the shed to store the pokeballs and, by extension, the pokemon when they're resting.
Another half hour passes before anything interesting happens. Two new people show up to watch as the trainers practice. They look tense. suspiciously tense.
You all seeing those two newcomers? They look pretty sketchy. I say in my head.
I do. Mewtwo replies. You believe these two are the thieves we are waiting for?
Having dealt with criminals on a semi-regular basis, these guys certainly feel like they are a couple of them. Thunder agrees. Growlithe and I are watching carefully. As we talk silently the two of them approach the preoccupied trainers. As they draw nearer I get a better look at them. One man and one woman. Both wearing casual clothing. T-shirts, jeans, and sneakers. The man is carrying a sports bag with them. The innocent facade falls away once they pull up their masks over their face, both with a red letter R sown into them. Rocket really likes to maintain brand recognition, it seems.
One of the trainers had seen them approaching. Now that they were within a yard of them and sporting masks the danger becomes readily apparent. He tries to flee, calling to his companion but is cut off by the sound of a cocking gun. The woman has just taken a pistol out of the back of her pants and aimed it squarely in at the face of one of the trainers. The entire field falls into a tense silence.
Every fiber of my being is telling me to intervene. cowering behind a bleacher and simply watching a robbery/kidnapping at gunpoint feels so wrong. I should be out there trying to diffuse the situation, not sitting back as if I was recording it for internet clout or something. Then again, coming out of hiding in front of an armed assailant with next to no cover will do no one any favors. I could ask Mewtwo to do it, but we'd lose our lead, be unable to stop them from kidnapping pokemon from Pokemar, and be giving them more Mew for whatever insidious schemes they were planning. So while it goes against everything I feel is right in the moment, I must hold back.
"Wait, wait, hold on." The trainer at gunpoint stammers. "Can we ta-"
"Here's the deal." The woman interrupts with an overly sinister voice. She's trying to put on a threatening show. Scare them into cooperating. And it seems to be working. "You give us all your pokemon, and you get to leave with your lives." The man lobs out a pokeball, deploying an angry looking Arbok.
"But... they're my friends! I can't just hand them over to you! It's not right!"
The two goons look at each other and with a quick nod, the man gestures to the trainer. The Arbok wastes no time in ensnaring him in a coil around his torso, completely restraining him. The woman turns her attention to the other trainer while the man approaches the vulnerable one.
"Stop!" The trainer screams, trashing hard against his captor's grip. "Let me go!" The man doesn't respond. Instead he reaches for the trainer's belt and starts taking the pokeballs off. "No! Leave them alone! Don't take them! Please!"
I can't watch anymore... it's too much. I say through our telepathic link.
Isn't there anything we can do? Thunder says, almost pleading.
We won't do them any good running in and getting shot. We need to wait. ...as painful as that is...
Whatever we do, we'd better make sure they pay for this one way or another. Growlithe says. What those pokemon are going through is horrible. I speak from experience.
The robbery continues with the other trainer voluntarily giving up their pokeballs and the two thieves raiding the storage shed for the rest of them. The leave after a while, walking towards the trainers
"Arbok, wrap." The man commands. The Arbok constricts around the trainer tightly while they scream out in pain. Soon he passes out and the snake lets go, letting him drop to the ground. The woman, meanwhile approaches the other trainer and with a swift pistol whip knocks him out as well. With the task done, they recall the Arbok to their ball and turn to leave.
Mewtwo, follow them back to their hideout. We'll tend to the trainers and meet up with you later. I say.
Understood. Mewtwo takes to the skies, keeping high enough that seeing them would be difficult. As the two thugs leave, they keep behind them, staying far enough away to be mostly out of sight. With Rocket gone we step out of our hiding spots just as the sun peeks out from the horizon. I dig some potion out from my bag, tossing one to Thunder as I head to the Arbok victim. A quick look over if his body reveals no external wounds, however I can't imagine his ribs held up very well. He's lucky the Arbok didn't try to bite him.
As a precaution I spritz potion across his chest, hoping to at least ease their pain a little and check for a pulse. Sure enough, I can feel the rythmic rush of blood in his wrist. With proper care he should be fine. I take out my phone and start to dial emergency services.
The other trainer starts to wake as my companions treat the bruise from the pistol strike. "What... what happened... My head..." He mutters.
"Glad you're awake. That Rocket grunt hit you pretty hard."
"Rocket... I remember. I... I gave them up... my friends, I just..." A mix of shame and horror fills his face. "I... I'm terrible... I'm so sorry..."
"Hey, relax. I saw them leave and I sent someone to follow. I've dealt with thugs like them before. I can get them back."
"I should've fought... They deserved so much better."
"Hey, don't start down that road." I quickly rush to his side. "You were at gunpoint. If you had resisted, they'd have shot you and still taken them. We're going to make this right. I promise." He says nothing more. He looks close to bursting into tears. Yeah. Rocket's gonna pay for this. I'll make sure of it.
For now, though we need to wait for an ambulance to arrive. After these two are safe we can meet back up with Mewtwo and follow through with our plan.