A/N:

Here we are with the sixteenth chapter. It's shorter than most of the other chapters, but definitely not the shortest. However, in terms of content... no, I'm not saying anything.

I don't own pokémon, or any of the franchises associated with this story. All I own are my characters.

As always, special thanks to Lunar Knight Archangel (formerly Archangel2462) for beta reading the chapters, and for helping me improve in terms of grammar/spelling in general, and thanks to Umi x3 for offering pointers for lemon scenes.

If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. I always enjoy your all's feedback.

"…" - Spoken dialogue

Italics - Michael's thoughts

'Italics' - Telepathic dialogue

/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene


"Be willing to receive the truth of who someone is, even when it's different than what you hoped it would be."

-Unknown


Ch. 16 - Darkness Revealed

A quarter past twelve. The girls cheered inside, and the merry sounds of laughter filled the hotel. Charlotte idly chatted away with Nicole over webcam. Zeke sat at the edge of the bed as he conversed with Layla over the move dark pulse. The celebration was still being broadcasted; the long, difficult year had finally come to a close. Fireworks colored the night sky as the city joined in its excitement, all in anticipation for what 2033 might have in store for them. The atmosphere was vibrant - full of joy, as were all those within it. All except for one.

Michael grasped the rail, staring in disbelief at his phone, which he had dropped on the wooden flooring of the balcony. The screen had cracked, but at the moment, he couldn't care less. The audio that played had struck him to the core. After all the happiness he had experienced these past few weeks, a simple phone call could outweigh everything.

The veil had been lifted; the shadows brought to light. He felt sick to his stomach as the realization slowly set in. He fought it tooth and nail, trying to reject what he had heard - what he was continuing to hear. But as much as he hated it, he gradually came to accept the bitter truth. Razor simply had no reason to lie anymore. Every man did have his breaking point, after all. Endless hours of interrogation and torture could bring even the most refined and organized of criminals to spill. He had been no exception.

An agreement had finally been reached. He would receive a life sentence in the nation's most fortified military prison. Every minute of every day of his life would be dictated by his keepers as punishment for his long list of drug trafficking and cop killing. But, in exchange for the information he had, he would be ensured safety and would be kept out of the electric chair. He agreed to the terms, accepting the fact that he wouldn't be getting any better offers. From that point on, Razor gave it all up. Now he was going on about underground routes, ongoing shipments and storage locations - the likes. But it was what he had started with that made it evident that the conflict was far from over. More than that, it had been closer than any of them had expected. They hadn't known just who they were dealing with.

The sound of the glass door sliding open fell upon deaf ears. "Michael?" Alaina asked curiously. "What's the matter? You've been out here for awhile… I thought you said it would only be a minute…" She came closer to him; he seemed to still be unaware of her presence. "Michael?" Still nothing. The latias noticed his phone and listened in on the recorded conversation. She nodded, likely thinking that she knew all of what was going on. "Oh, so they may have some fight still in them. But don't worry - you all will put an end to them, once and for all. We couldn't realistically expect an entire organization to collapse in under a year, now could we?" She hovered closer to him, placing her hand on his cheek. "M-Michael?"

…..

He opened his eyes, being woken by the creeping sunlight through the windows. Layla was still soundly asleep, her head buried in the crook of his neck. Still tired after last night, huh? He began the painstakingly difficult process of escaping her grip without waking the dozing lucario, having to gently pry her arm from around his own and slide from under her. He silently stepped out of bed after making sure to cover her. He slipped on some clothes before quietly sliding open the door.

The gentle breeze carried the scent of the ocean - a scent Michael had come to enjoy over his time at the resort. The first few groups of people had begun to occupy the coastline, preparing to celebrate New Year's Eve in the comfort of the warm sands. One kid - twelve or thirteen, by the looks of it - grabbed a frisbee from his family's supplies. He was quickly followed by a lycanroc. Michael stood there and watched the two engage in their game for a few minutes before heading back inside.

Layla was sitting up, straightening her matted fur before glancing over at him. "There you are. I was wondering where you went."

"Just stepped outside for a moment. Did I wake you?"

"No - not when you got up, at least. But I couldn't sleep long without my pillow," she giggled.

"Oh, you mean my shoulder?"

"Yep. You're quite comfortable, you know." She tossed the covers aside, then hopped off of the bed. "So, what's the agenda for today?" she asked. Michael mentally ran through what he had planned.

"We're going to have the best New Year's celebration ever! Zeke will be chilling with us, and Samuel and Nicole will be online tonight, too. I was thinking that I'd go out and get some snacks for us all."

"Alright - I'll stay back here, if you don't mind. Ver and I planned to have a duel. I'm gonna use my Christmas present!" Knowing how seriously she took her training, Michael bought her the best thing he could think of in that regard - a power bracer. She couldn't have been happier, and had been excited ever since to put it to use.

"Not a problem at all. Hope you two have a great time - just be careful."

"Of course," she replied. He grabbed his things off of the nightstand - his wallet, his revolver, and his aviators. As he unplugged his phone, he realized that he had received a text last night. Huh, Thomas. Michael unlocked his phone, reading over the message.

Hey, I'd like to call you in the morning if you don't mind.

Well, now would be as good a time as ever. He walked out to the balcony once again, taking a seat on the small couch and propping his feet up on the table. He scrolled through his contacts and selected Thomas's name, curious as to what his comrade might be troubled about. It only rang for a few seconds before Thomas picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Thomas. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah… Listen, I wanna thank you for helping out with this whole situation with Ivy. I know I've said some things about these kinds of relationships… things that you probably took offense to… But yet you haven't snapped back or anything…"

"Well, that wouldn't have accomplished anything," Michael responded. "But you're welcome." Thomas said nothing for a moment, and Michael had a suspicion that Thomas had not called only to thank him. "That wasn't the only reason you called, now was it?"

"…No… it wasn't… I uh… I also wanted to thank you for the gift card you se—."

"Thomas…"

"Alright, fine," he relented. "I need advice… one more time…" He sounded unsure of himself. What have you gotten into, Thomas?

"That's fine by me. Go on."

"See, last night… I was just sitting there, ya see? Ivy came up and hopped up beside me - she started talking to me. Geared the subject towards us. I didn't say anything; I couldn't for some reason. And then before I knew it, she was getting closer… and I still didn't do anything. She told me…" He cut himself off, clearly too nervous to continue.

"Bud, if you don't tell me, I can't help you," Michael said. "What happened next?"

"…She…uh… she told me that she would show me… She'd make me want to try… Before I knew it, she'd kissed me. I was in shock - Arceus, I didn't know what the hell to do. I froze up… just stood still."

"Really?" Michael had to stifle a laugh - it seemed that Thomas wasn't going to catch a break with the whole situation. Thomas's pride had likely taken a serious blow, and if Samuel ever found out… hell, he would never hear the end of it.

"Yeah… Listen, I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do. I mean, if I let it fly, then she might take that as a green light to go further."

"You're right - she's already acted, so now you need to do something. But I am kinda curious… how long was it?"

"The kiss? Let's see… I'd say… ten seconds?" Ten? Damn, she had it in for you.

"What did you do?" Michael asked. "Did you try to push her away or anything?"

"I couldn't - she was practically on top of me…"

"Thomas, you're six foot seven and well over three-hundred pounds. I refuse to believe for one second that you couldn't push a seventy pound bayleef off of you." The larger Reaper remained silent, knowing that Michael had a point. "That is, had you wanted to. Did you want to stop her, Thomas? I mean, ten seconds? At that rate… it almost seems to me like you could've been enjoying it."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me. You were enjoying it, weren't you?"

"I-I don't… I don't know, okay?" Despite having gone to war, his tone was panicky. Deep down, he probably knew it was because he was becoming the very thing that he had previously found repulsing. "I… I just don't know…"

"I think you do know. If you had wanted to shut it down, you could have stopped her. You and I both know that." Michael considered his next words carefully before speaking. "As for advice… why don't you give it a shot? I know the whole thing may seem kinda weird… it isn't exactly common. But once you've tried it out, you kinda stop caring about all that. I mean, what's the harm in it? It's not like you're being forced to do anything. If it's not your thing, then you by no means have to stick with it. All I'm saying is that if a relationship with Ivy piques your interest - and it seems like it does - then try it out." For a moment, not a sound was heard between the two of them, and Michael began to wonder if he had somehow lost connection. Eventually, though, Thomas replied.

"Alright… you've given me a lot to think about. Thanks." With that, he hung up. Well, I guess that's that. He walked back inside and shut the door behind him.

After he had finished his preparations, Michael headed next door. The others had gotten up, and the sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom. Ver must have been taking a shower. Elise and Charlotte were lying prone on the bed, watching television. "Hey girls, I'm about to head out for a little while. Gonna buy some stuff for tonight. Anyone wanna come?"

"Our show's on," Charlotte replied. "I think I'll chill here."

"Same," Elise said, flashing him a cute grin.

" Alright, you two just remember to eat, alright?" He took out his wallet, placing several bills on the nightstand. "That should keep you covered for whatever you all decide to do." As he turned to leave, Alaina stopped him.

"Wait up - I'll come with you." She flew to the door, turning to face him.

"Alright. You gonna camouflage?" She titled her head, considering it for a second.

"You know, I think I would prefer to go normally. After that battle, it's not like people don't know by now."

"Yeah, you're probably right. The appearance of two legendaries probably drew some media attention aside from the local channels." He hadn't recently checked, but he was fairly certain that if he looked it up, he would find several articles and pictures of the battle. Hell, I wonder if dad has found out… He hadn't informed his father of Alaina's presence on his team, uncertain as to how he would take to it. Worst case scenario, he may trace the latias to the legendary incident at the Power Plant, and Michael would be unable to hide his profession any longer. But now… now that they had revealed her to the world, there was nothing Michael could do to prevent his father from finding out. All that was keeping him from learning of his son's fifth pokémon was a simple internet search. But… there's nothing that can be done about that now…

The two of them boarded the elevator and headed downstairs. Damn I hope we don't get swarmed, Michael thought as they neared the lobby floor. Fortunately, there weren't that many people roaming about. But it didn't take long for those present to recognize them.

"Oh my Arceus," one girl whispered to her boyfriend, her gaze fixed on the legendary. "Look at that…" As they headed for the front entrance, Michael couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with all the eyes piercing into them. Alaina, though, didn't seem fazed in the slightest.

"Lighten up," she said with a smile. "You seem to forget that we practically announced my presence to the entire city with that last battle…"

"That is true," he admitted. But as they exited the building and made their way to the city, Michael was still perturbed with the attention they were receiving, despite having battled in front of tens of thousands just over a week ago. After all, competing with another at such distance from the crowd was much less personal than walking right by people that regarded the two of them with awe. On more than one occasion he had seen people taking pictures with their phones. Just ignore them, just ignore them…

Finally reaching the supermarket, he grabbed a shopping cart from the rack before going inside. "Hmm, we'll start with the produce section. If you see anything that you like, grab it," he told her. She nodded, and before long, brought three cases of berries. "Alright, oran - always a good choice… pecha, and… what the hell are those?" He opened the clamshell packaging, taking one of the strange berries out. It was round and had jagged, red and green stripes running along its surface horizontally.

"I don't know what they're called," she said, "but they taste amazing. Every once in awhile, if we were lucky, we could find a bush or two when we roamed Hoenn. Hah, I remember when I was young… maybe thirty seasons old - we settled near Verdanturf for some time. We found a grotto a few miles east of the city that was filled with them. But… one day they cleared that land to build some apartments…"

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that…"

"Yeah, it was very disappointing. A lot of pokémon relied on that grotto for a food source. But at the end of the day, it was the humans that owned the land… They had the right to do what they did - or at least, the legal right. We all just… wished that they hadn't, you know?"

"Yeah," he replied, "I know exactly what you mean." He looked at the package, finally noticing the small label on the side. "Ah, here we are - watmel berries. Were these the only ones they had?" he asked, setting them in the cart.

"Mhm, I think so."

"Oh well. We'll have to keep an eye on them whenever we go out."

Over the course of the next half hour, Michael and Alaina traversed throughout the store, splitting up to cover more ground. He made his way back from the bakery to his latias, carrying several freshly made poképuffs. He found her browsing the chip aisle in front of a speechless woman with her child. Alaina turned to face the little girl as she approached her. "Mommy," she asked endearingly, "can I pet her?"

"I-I don't think that's a good idea…" Alaina lowered herself level to the girl.

"Of course you can, little one," she replied gently. The legendary hummed softly, smiling as the girl ran her hands along her neck. "See? I don't bite," she jokingly said to the woman, who stood quietly.

"She… just spoke…" the mother said.

"That band around her neck is a translator," Michael said. "Pretty convenient, wouldn't you say?" She nodded, watching as her daughter affectionately rubbed the legendary.

"Mind if I take a picture?" she eventually asked. "One day, she'll be able to look back… and realize just who she met…" Michael looked at his latias, who tilted her head questioningly. He shrugged.

"I don't see why not - are you alright with it, Alaina?"

"Sure." The woman took out her phone, aiming it at there daughter, who had wrapped her arms around the base of Alaina's neck. "Smile for the camera, sweetie!"

…..

A knock on the door snapped Michael back to attention. Just in time. He and Ver had finished moving the beds to the side, while the others had set out the various snacks on the desk. The balcony doors were wide open, letting the gentle breeze flow in and showcasing the beauteous, colorful display in the night sky. "It's open!" he called out. Zeke wasted no time in walking inside.

"Well damn - looks like you've set out quite a spread."

"Yeah," Michael chuckled, "we always go all out for the holidays. Glad you could join us."

"Wouldn't miss it." He cast a glance to the overly loud television. The news channel was on, showing the parade through the streets of Goldenrod. Blaring lights occupied every aspect of the screen. The city was alive; the people were even more so. Floats were being driven through the blocks, eventually coming to a halt around the large, bright tower in the central plaza. The time - 7:42 - was displayed prominently in red, digital letters in the center. At midnight, the ball at the top would descend, signaling the passing of another year. "So… got any New Year's resolutions?" the zoroark asked to no one in particular.

"None that would be appropriate to say," Layla replied. Arceus, Layla, Michael thought shaking his head. We're all adults here, but seriously…

"Well, you just keep those to yourself in that case. Anyone else?"

"Yeah, I've got one," Ver said. "I'd like to go on more missions." Michael looked over at her, visibly unamused.

"No," he simply stated. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you mean 'no?' I'm perfectly qualified, and—."

"I know you are," Michael interrupted. "I know. But it's not going to happen. Not again."

"Oh? Who says?" she asked, slightly challengingly. Michael decided to take her up on that challenge.

"I say."

"And why is that?" Her voice now came out in an irritated growl. But Michael wasn't intimidated in the slightest, nor was he backing down.

"Because… well, let's put it this way. That night at the Power Plant, were you looking down? Did you see what happens to a flygon when they get hit with the very weapons that we made?"

"No… I was too busy keeping myself alive," she retorted.

"Oh, alright, in that case, I'll tell you what happens - you get blown into pieces! Back there… I thought that was you. It tore me apart, and…" he paused, having to keep himself form tearing up. "…I can't lose you, Ver. I can't…" The large dragoness placed her hand on his shoulder.

"So then you might just know how we all feel…" She pulled him in and embraced him, encasing his smaller frame with her larger one. "Every day that you go out there… we all wonder if it will be your last." She craned her neck downwards, looking him dead in the eyes. "And you coming back with your arm all shredded to pieces, or all beaten up and worn out, or with bullets or shrapnel in your chest… all of that shit doesn't put those thoughts to rest." Her tone then changed to a much softer one. "But yet we let you do it… because you signed up for it. Arceus knows why, but you did. It would only be fair to let me do what I signed up for. And you know that." Much to his annoyance, she was right - he did know. And doing everything he could to keep her off the field presented a double standard. But, despite the hypocrisy involved, it was a double standard that he would fight as hard as he could to defend; it was a standard that would keep her from harm, and would keep her from doing the things he had done - killed people.

"Dammit Ver… I do know… I know it's not fair to set a different standard." He sighed, patting her on the chest. "…I know…" For a moment, no one said anything. It just seemed as though it would be completely out of place to say anything. But Zeke never had a problem with that…

"Aww, come on - this isn't the time for mushy shit like this - we've got a party to start! All of this can wait till some other time…" Michael rolled his eyes - leave it to Zeke to ruin a heartfelt moment. But in a way, he was right. He and Ver could debate this some other time.

"Yeah, alright," he laughed. Ver let go of him, but not before giving him a swift lick to the cheek. "Well, we sure as hell didn't put out all this food for nothing…"

The night carried on, and gradually, the store of food on the table was depleted. The clock struck ten, and Michael remembered an earlier proposition. Almost forgot… Going to side of the room, he retrieved his laptop from underneath the nightstand. "What're you doing?" Charlotte asked as the home screen loaded.

"Sam and I planned to video chat. What do you say to that?"

"Heh, it's been a few days since I talked with Nicole. I'd love to!" Michael sent the request, which was granted a few seconds later. The sniper appeared on the screen, alongside his golden fox.

"Hey man, how's it going back there in Azalea?"

"Can't complain," he said with a smile. "Weather's a bit chillier than usual, but luckily I've got myself a nice fire fox that is just perfect for keeping the cold away." Nicole nuzzled under his chin.

"That's not all I'm good for," she said with mock annoyance.

"Oh trust me, I know," he joked, before returning his attention to Michael. "By the way, thanks for the Ruger - I can finally make use of my concealed carry permit," he laughed.

"Not a problem at all. Glad you enjoyed it."

"And we've already made use of the brush you got for Nicole."

"Mhm, it feels amazing. Really gets all the tangles out."

"But the tails are still a pain in the ass to deal with," Samuel said.

"Oh tell me about it," Charlotte added, "See there was this one time - a couple months ago - Michael was helping me comb my fur after the shower. He made it down to my tail, and the brush got stuck! It was so tangled, that we had to cut it out!" She continued her recollection of the event, effectively isolating both of the males from the conversation in a humorous manner. Not that they were surprised - their video chats were generally more of a discussion between the two foxes than between the two Reapers. Samuel got up, excusing himself from the conversation in order to take a shower, knowing that Nicole and Charlotte were going to dominate the screen for the next half hour or so. Michael rubbed Charlotte's head before similarly leaving the picture.

Midnight drew near; the final day of the year was coming to a close. The shrill cries of the fireworks outside increased in their frequency, and those in Goldenrod became even more energetic. The ball was about to drop. In the last moments of 2032, Michael reflected on how far he had come over the past year. Despite his scholarly background, he had become operational in one of the most elite special forces units throughout all the regions, and in his first tour of duty, had already become a renown war hero. But the feat that he was most proud of was how far he had come with the girls. His former best friends had become so much more to him; the very pokémon that lived with him, had been his sole reason for living, had enriched his life exponentially.

The past year had come with a lot of stress, too. In the heat of battle, anything could happen. Maybe one of the hundreds of bullets that drew through the air over the course of the firefight could have his name on it. There was no way to predict which way shrapnel would fly after an explosion, or if he might get flanked from an unseen enemy, or even if they were heading into a trap. It wasn't the threat of danger that terrified him, but rather the uncertainty of it. But at the end of every mission, he would come home to them - the girls that made it all worth it. To know that, after all the violence, they would be there to comfort him - to make it all just go away - and that what they did saved the lives of innocent people, he could honestly say that at the end of the day, stressful and daunting as it being a Reaper may be, it was completely worth it.

Alaina gripped his hand tightly, bringing him back to reality. Everyone focused on the television, as the clock in the center of the tower began to flash. A sixty second timer quickly took its place and immediately began counting down. "This is it," the latias whispered to him. "Almost there!"

"Yep, almost," he said with a smile. Despite the hardships, he could say without a doubt that the past year had been the greatest of his life. And with the girls by his side, he had high hopes for whatever may come next.

The timer hit ten, and Charlotte began the countdown. "Ten… nine… eight…" The others laughed, then joined the braixen. "Seven… six… five… four… three… two… one!" The ball dropped; confetti was launched over the tens of thousands of cheering people.

"Happy New Year!" the news anchorman said happily. Alaina drew him into a gentle kiss - nothing too intense, so as not to put off Zeke, but enough to get the sweet message across. At that time, with everyone caught up in the bliss of the moment, everything was perfect. Everything that he could have wanted.

But then the phone had to ring. Michael was confused - who would call at this time? Certainly couldn't be Samuel, or Thomas - he was likely far too caught up in his dilemma with Ivy to be celebrating. He withdrew his phone from his pocket. What the hell? Why is the Commander calling at a time like this? He stood up and answered the phone.

"Hey Commander, how's it going? Enjoying yourself?" He said nothing for a moment, but eventually responded.

"Higgs… no… Michael… This last day has been anything but enjoyable for me…" The melancholy in his voice caught Michael off guard.

"Wha— why? Is something wrong?" How could someone be miserable on this day? Especially when the rest of the country seemed to be so festive…

"That… that would be an understatement, son… We've gained new intel, and…" he sighed. "I've been debating whether or not to inform you as to what's going on."

"Inform me? About what?"

"…Are you alone right now?"

"No," Michael replied, "Zeke and the girls are all here. Why?"

"Step outside for a moment." He did as told, heading towards the balcony.

"Michael? What are you doing?" Alaina asked.

"Don't worry - this should only take a minute or so." With that, he made his way to the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him. "Alright, I'm alone now. What's up?"

"Son… I hate to be the bearer of bad news - especially at a time like this…" He paused, audibly uncertain in how to continue. "You're gonna find out - soon. I'm going to leave it up to you whether or not you learn now or when you get back… I know you all are on vacation. Arceus knows you deserve it. But if I send you this… well, it's going to ruin that for you…" He was alarmed upon hearing this. What? What could he possibly be talking about? Something that bad… If, whatever it was, it could ruin his time with the girls, then he wanted no part in it. But yet as much as he wanted to throw the whole prospect away, he knew that he couldn't deal with such a dreadful anticipation, all while trying to pretend that some terrifying realization was not about to come to him. I guess… it's better to get it over with. Unless Wesley was exaggerating - which he doubted - then his vacation would be ruined regardless.

"Okay… lay it on me. Let's get this over with…"

"You remember… that gang that you and the others took out?" Wesley started.

"Yeah - Razor, wasn't it? Him and his band of cop-killing thugs…"

"Yes," Wesley replied, "those guys. Well, Razor… he finally spilled."

"He did?" That, definitely, was good news.

"Yeah, he did. Nikolai… he's worked for us for years now. Always has come through. Razor sure gave us hell - put up a real fight - but he never stood a chance against Nikolai… A few months in, and he got Razor singing like a canary."

"Alright," Michael said, "but I fail to see how—."

"It's what he said, Michael…" What the hell did he say then? "I'm sending you the recording now. I can't imagine, what it must be like… Son, I'm so sorry…" The call was ended, much to Michael's concern. As he pondered what could be going on, the audio recording was texted to him. His finger hovered over the play button before hesitantly tapping it. The date and time displayed - 8:47, December 30, 2032. Huh, so this interview was done last night… A light crackle, and then voices.

"So I've heard that you are finally willing to cooperate," the interrogator stated. That's Nikolai… "You lasted longer than most - that's for sure. Tell me, what was it that finally broke through? I imagine you grew used to the electricity. Was it the beatings? Or maybe the sleep deprivation. I know that must get old real quick."

"What the fuck does it matter?" Razor finally said. His voice sounded raspier than Michael remembered it, as though his vocal cords had been torn apart from countless hours of yelling from pain.

"Oh, it doesn't. Perhaps it's my own morbid curiosity. But you're right - let's get on with this. You are ready to talk, no?"

"I want to know that you assholes are gonna hold up to your end of the deal. How do I know you all won't just fuck me over after I've talked?" A screech sound as a chair was pushed back; Nikolai must have gotten up, further suggested by the pacing around the room.

"I know that these past few months have been… well, difficult, for you - to say the least. You're used to dealing with crooks - people that are equally as shitty as you are. But we do not lie. We hold up to our promises. So again, here's what you're going to get. Life imprisonment over in our Whirl Islands Military Prison. Nothing less for someone of your record. Every moment of every day, there will be guards and cameras watching you. Your whole life will be controlled - you won't even be able to take a piss without clearance and without a rifle pointed at you. And if you somehow manage to escape - Arceus knows how that would be possible - you will have nowhere to go. But… you will be kept out of the chair, and more importantly, your boss will not be able to reach you. That was your main concern, was it not?"

"Yeah… it is…"

"Great. So then we have a deal?"

"We…" Razor relented with a sigh, "yeah, we have a deal…"

"In that case, I'm all ears."

"Fine. Where should I start?" the former gang leader asked.

"How about the leadership of all this shit? Our forces have taken complex after complex, capped thousands of grunts, and shut down countless trade routes, and yet no matter who interrogate, no one seems to have any clue about who's in charge."

"They're good at it, aren't they?" Razor mused. "Those fuckers really know how to stay anonymous."

"You say that as though you weren't one of them…" Nikolai stated confusedly.

"I wasn't - we weren't paid to run shit, we were hired out occasionally to move product from point A to point B. Really made payday a bitch - never knew who the fuck to go to. Sometimes it would take weeks. But hell, it was worth every bit of it."

"Worth killing cops?"

"Only those that interfered. Should've left us alone. They paid well; often times a single heist would give us twenty-five or more each."

"Twenty-five hundred? For a heist that might take a couple of hours?"

"Twenty-five thousand - often times more. They weren't poor by any means. Think about it - do you know how much a bag of crystal will sell for on the street?" Razor replied. "But, again, it was hard to track down. Truth be told, they were good at keeping everything secretive because they knew to stay out of the system. Made it harder for the grunts to know what the fuck was going on… but made it easier for those in charge to avoid you all."

"What do you mean 'stay out of the system?'" Nikolai asked.

"Think about it - if it's digital, it's visible. Had they put personal information on a computer and sent it off, you would've caught 'em by now. They do their shit by paper - codes, aliases, you name it. And they hardly ever do things the same way twice. Hell, you all probably thought that you've busted up their game plan, didn't you? Just because you take out a dozen or so product routes, they're down for the count, right?"

"Go on…"

"You all have made it harder. You've killed off a lot of their people, taken a bunch of their shit… But you've only shut them down for the time being." No… they… aren't down yet?

"What?"

"In all my time working for them, I almost never used the same route twice. If I did, it was a few days apart. A couple of months later, and we'd never use it again. You haven't shut down anything - you took out a few paths that they'd probably abandon anyways."

"Well fuck, that's just great," Nikolai said. "So all of the routes that we've shut down…"

"Everything that you all have done - even all the bases you've destroyed - can be recovered in a matter of years. Scars fade." Oh Arceus… tell me he's bullshitting us…

"Then we will just have to cut off the head of the snake. Who all do you know within their upper ranks? You said that they've kept to themselves well… but you have to know at least a few of your employers."

"No," Razor replied, "only one."

"Shit, that's just perfect," he said in frustration. "Why the hell is one name worth all the strings we'll have to pull to keep your ass from the death penalty?"

"Because my employer is the second in command." Oh, that's pretty helpful.

"Alright," the interrogator said, the surprise audible in his voice. "Now you've got my attention. Who is he?"

"He's gone by several names and titles over the years - he's generally referred to as the Accountant - but I know his real name. He manages all the money, and his algorithms are what determines how everything gets switched around. He's brilliant; overseeing all the routes, the products - even the clean money."

"Clean money?"

"This organization - this nameless group - they've got a say in more markets than just drugs and trafficking. Stocks and bonds located around the world in offshore accounts, traceable only back to figments of his imagination. My friends and I… when we were running drugs on our own… well, we got caught. We'd evaded the cops time and time again, and they couldn't do shit. We knew where to go, too - Kanto's got some real shitty law enforcement. But one day, we were set up, and before we could do anything, we got surrounded. But he… he'd kept an eye on us. He was impressed with our work, and somehow, he pulled strings and turned a thirty year sentence into a couple months."

"Kanto is crooked as hell…"

"He had the money - money which politicians wanted. That led to retrials, which led to parole... When we got out, he was there. Made sure that we knew what he did… and that there was so much more in store for us. He had plans for us, and the resources to make us all rich. We couldn't refuse - not that we would have, anyways."

The conversation had been going on for over ten minutes now. Michael looked inside the room, seeing that Charlotte had resumed her conversation with Nicole. Damn babe, this has been the longest one yet… Off to the side, Zeke and Layla were talking about something, though he couldn't hear what. Then, the zoroark formed a dark, shadowy sphere between his hands, holding it there for a moment before harmlessly crushing it into nothingness. Must be trying to teach her dark pulse, he mused. Zeke, I swear to Arceus, if you tear up the room… Nikolai spoke up again, forcing Michael to switch his attention back to the recording.

"You've made it clear that we're dealing with someone that really knows what they're doing. But you haven't told us who it is - who this so called "Accountant" is." Razor said nothing, as though he were reconsidering the whole thing.

"Everything you all have done to me… it would pale in comparison to what he would do to me. He'd have me killed for what I've said so far, but if reveal his name… shit, it would last for days. That's not something I'm willing to risk without a guarantee…" Great, Michael mused, back to this again…

"Are you serious?!" Nikolai yelled. "We've already been over this shit!" At this point, a door could be heard opening faintly. Another set of footsteps approached, probably to ensure that Nikolai didn't attack Razor.

"You don't have a thing to worry about," said a familiar voice. "My name is Wesley Hawkins - commander of the Twenty-fifth Reaper Regiment. It was my boys that took you and your gang out. If you proceed, I will personally vouch for you and your safety. We get what we want - every damn time. You have my word that no harm will come to you or the others. Am I understood?"

"Y…yes," Razor said quietly.

"Good. Now that that's settled, please continue." Michael didn't hear the footsteps walk away; Wesley must have been staying right there.

"Who is the Accountant?" Nikolai asked. For a moment, nothing could be heard from any of the three men, much to Nikolai's growing impatience. "I asked you a question!"

"Cool it," Wesley snapped. If they angered Razor, they may make it more difficult to pry the information out of him. And if what he was saying was true, then they had no time to waste. "Who is he?" he asked in a much calmer demeanor.

"His name…" Razor responded weakly, "the Accountant's name… is… Ethan Higgs…"


A/N:

Well, the plot thickens... See you all next time! Please consider leaving a review if you enjoyed reading!