A/N:

Hey guys, sorry I've kinda disappeared. Trying to get everything set up for college while contributing to my stories, and it's become a bit of a hassle to say the least. Don't worry though, I'm always gonna do my best to update regularly.

If you enjoy this story, by the way, I do have another one in the making. Since there really aren't that many Mystery Dungeon stories out there, I decided to make one (Explorers of Sky, btw). Anyways, if this interests you, please consider checking out Into Darkness.

I still don't own Pokémon...

EDIT: I changed the Secretary's name to Connor, as I have previously used Stryker in this story.

"…" - Spoken dialogue

Italics - Michael's thoughts

'Italics' - Telepathic dialogue

/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene


"It's one thing to have the faith to get started, but it's another thing to have the fortitude to finish strong."

-Kami Dempsey


Ch. 20 - Following Through

Michael had finished putting on his suit in preparation for the first mission. Both he and Zeke were involved in the assignment; the Commander decided that the zoroark's abilities could be instrumental in keeping Michael hidden until the right moment. Such stealth was going to be necessary, as this job would be slightly different than the last hits Michael had pulled off. After all, unlike every other mission, he would have to kill this target within the presence of his family.

The two of them were heading to a countryside house, where they would wait until everyone was asleep before making their move. They would slip inside and head to the bedroom, where Michael would place the silenced pistol to the head of the admin and end him. The thought of pulling off such a job put a feeling of discomfort within him, but this needed to be done; if Wade Compton did not die, then countless others could suffer down the line.

To think, though, that this conflict was finally nearing it's end. It's gonna be weird not having anyone to fight, Michael thought. Well, that might not be entirely accurate - new threats could spring up at any time. But the Twenty-Fifth Regiment would surely have a much lighter work load once the rest of the trafficking organization was taken out.

"Ready for this one?" Zeke asked.

"Yeah. Shouldn't take too long. By the time we get there, they'll probably be asleep." He screwed the silencer onto the USP-45, then slid it into the open holster on his side.

"Hopefully."

The helicopter silently descended into a clearing in the woods, where Michael and Zeke stepped out. Immediately Michael switched on his night vision. "The house's location should appear on your visor," Wesley said. Sure enough, a small triangle appeared in the upper right of Michael's visor display, along with a number beside it.

"Damn, fifteen hundred yards?"

"What'd you expect - to be dropped off on their front porch?" Zeke retorted.

"Fair enough."

"Alright, so quick recap," Wesley said, "Compton has a security system in case of a break in. Open that window without disabling it first and that alarm's gonna go off. You do remember how to use that EMP jammer, right?"

"Eh, I'll figure it out as I go." Wesley likely rolled his eyes.

"Switch on the left to activate the device, then hit the red button whenever you're pointing at the security system."

"M'kay. Come on, Zeke. Let's go bust a cap in this piece of shit."

The two treaded through the woods towards their destination, which, being that they were in the middle of dense brush, seemed to be miles away. The one thing that brought humor to the trip was the constant swearing coming from the zoroark as he tried in vain to avoid the plethora of briars within the woods, only to get them tangled in his fur as time went on. Eventually, though, they stepped out of the woods and faced the building that housed the enemy. A mountain house stood before them, fairly distant from the other high-class homes similar to it. The small mansion had been built amongst the spruce and next to a small, nearly silent brook.

"Shit, this place is huge. How the hell are we gonna find him in there?" Zeke asked.

"Well considering he's probably asleep by now, he should be in the master bedroom on the second floor," Wesley replied. Michael cast a quick glance to each of the windows before dashing up to the front porch, soon followed by the zoroark. They crouched near the window, and eventually, Michael peaked over the edge. Nobody was around, and the still, red light on the wall alerted him to the main security system control.

"Okay, coast is clear." He took the EMP jammer from his side and pointed it at the control. Let's see… left switch, red button… The device made a lowly chirp, and the light on the panel flickered off. "Annnnd we're good to go."

"Hurry, you won't have long before the system reboots." Michael took the short sword out of its sheath and wedged the tip into the windowsill. He steadily increased his pressure on the handle, using the bladed weapon to pry open the window, which eventually gave way with a light crack. He quickly lifted it up and stepped inside, followed by Zeke. Before he forgot, the Reaper made sure to shut the window behind him so as to avoid suspicion. "Good, now take out the alarm." Slowly checking around the corner into the living room, he found nobody around. Michael then unscrewed the side of the security panel, to which he removed the batteries and rolled them under the leather couch. That takes care of that.

"Alright, the stairs will be at the first door on your right. Be careful not to make a sound." He gently rested his hand on the brass knob before quietly turning it. They then began the painstakingly long process of ascending the stairway in complete silence, spending what felt like hours on each step to keep it from creaking. "That's right - slow and steady. The master bedroom will be straight ahead once you get up there."

Eventually the door to the master bedroom came into vision, but one thing warranted concern - the light creeping from underneath a door to the left. "Dammit, I think someone's still up."

"Tread lightly. Zeke, be prepared to create an illusion." They had to go forth - they couldn't just stand there and risk someone walking out of the room. To make matters worse, he could hear movement from within - someone was definitely awake. Michael's heart felt as though it were about to jump out of his chest with each silent step he took. The door that contained his mission grew closer and closer, until his hand lay against the ajar entrance. He slowly pushed it open, seeing the wedded couple peacefully lying asleep.

And not a moment too soon. Right after Zeke had slipped inside, the door behind them opened, and a twelve year old kid stepped out - presumably to get a drink of water or go to the restroom. Though he was carrying out his sworn duty, the guilt hit Michael like a freight train. They probably don't even know. And yet they're gonna wake up to find him dead… "Commander…"

"I know…" he said in a somber tone. "But you need to carry on with the mission." Hearing that didn't help, nor did the large family portrait hanging over the bed. Had he not known the backstory to Wade Compton, he would have never guessed that such a decent looking family could secretly contain such a vile person. Nobody would have ever known.

"We can't bring this one in? I'm sure I could—."

"Your orders are to kill him, not capture him. We have no use for him, and he would be sentenced to death for what he's done anyways. One way or another, he's going to die. Best do it without spending taxpayer dollars and booking court dates." Michael edged forward, approaching the man in his thirties until he was standing right over him. His hand was clenched tight around the grip of his pistol, but the firearm felt as though it weighed a ton as he tried to unholster it. "I'm sorry son, I know this is hard. But this is what we do."

He managed to retrieve the weapon, and placed the suppressed barrel mere inches away from Wade's head. Instantly images flashed through his mind - a woman waking only to discover her husband's brains spread amongst the pillow, sobbing children not knowing who would have done such a horrible thing. To this oblivious family, he would always be the "bad guy" who took him away from them. And despite the reality of what he did for a living, Wade would be remembered by them with sympathy and sorrow. Michael tried to shake such thoughts out of his head - best not to think about stuff like that. Not when there was nothing he could do. It simply wasn't his problem.

Gradually he pulled the trigger. The gun recoiled silently, almost coming to him as a surprise, and a lone brass case fell onto the carpet. Wade's body jerked slightly in response to the nervous trauma before his diaphragm relaxed for the final time. Already a steady stream was making its way down his face, and the snow-white sheets were stained red.

"Good work. Feds will be there before long to search the house," Wesley said. "I'd hurry and get outta there if I were you. Wouldn't wanna be around to see the aftermath." At the rate Wade was bleeding, that wouldn't take long.

"Come on," Zeke said, "let's go." Finally managing to avert his gaze from his work, Michael turned around and began to retrace his steps. Zeke gently close the door behind them as they headed back. "Should we be concerned about that kid?" he asked.

"Yeah, where'd he go?" Michael questioned. Just as he asked, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. "Oh shit!"

"I've got this," Zeke said before enshrouding the two of them in a dark aura. Michael froze up in panic. Nowhere to hide, and certainly not enough time to flee without being noticed. He could only pray that the zoroark could cover them quick enough to avoid detection. The kid reached the top of the stairs, then paused, staring straight ahead. Michael held his breath as the boy stood straight towards the duo that had just eliminated his father. Then to their relief, he walked away, clearly not seeing a thing. Fuck that was close…

With the final obstacle taken care of, they retreated out of the house, leaving the destruction for the oblivious family to discover. And they weren't even done for the day.

. . . . .

The ride to their next destination had consisted mostly of silence as Michael reflected on what had occurred. He never hoped to pull a trigger under those circumstances again. With any luck, this would be the first and last time. But considering the fact that he had another mission of the sort to pull off within the course of a few hours, he may very well may find himself in a similar situation.

As the helicopter approached Mahogany Town, the sun began to rise over the distant mountains. Zeke was currently dozing away on the seat opposite to Michael, catching a quick nap before their next mission. Michael, on the other hand, likely wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. Not that he felt bad for taking out Wade - no, he would never have even the remotest bit of sympathy for a human trafficker - but the family was going to be torn apart over what they had now probably discovered. As much as he wanted to get the thoughts out of his head, his mind ket drifting back to them. I need to occupy myself somehow…

"Commander, you got a moment?" A short span of silence followed, but Wesley picked up before long.

"'Course. What's on your mind?"

"Well… I'm kinda wondering how this whole situation is gonna play out. I mean, the news is probably gonna be onto this series of hits before noon. What the hell is gonna be said about nearly thirty military-style assassinations that took place in the middle of the night?"

"You're right in thinking the media will get involved. Hell, they always do. And I can't blame 'em this go around - it looks like we're about to start a damn war with Kanto with the way we rushed forces to the border, and that many people just dying all of a sudden… there's gonna be a commotion. I'm thinking that the Secretary of Defense is gonna have to make some statements regarding the organization, but he'll probably leave out the part mentioning that they wanted to gain the assistance of The Assembly. There are just certain things the public can't find out about, y'know? The vast majority of citizens will never know how much of a threat the alt-right has posed to the stability of our country. But that's what we're here for - to solve the problem before people have to even hear about it."

"Huh. That's true and all, but he's gonna have to make one hell of a statement to cover all this up."

"Yeah," Wesley said, "but Connor has a way with words. He'll find a way to say what needs to be said without triggering the alt-right here." The Chinook began to descend, and their destination came into view. Michael began to slip off his suit - being that this final target was in a hotel, and not in a series of distant mountain houses, it would be unfitting to show up in a mask and kevlar. Michael nudged Zeke, who woke with a startled snort.

"Almost there."

"Huh?" he asked in confusion, before realizing the situation. "Oh, okay."

"Listen up," Wesley said to the two of them. "I doubt he will be at the hotel for much longer, so you two will have to act quick. Terrence recently checked out room 208. We've wiped his records from the hotel's system, so Michael will purchase a night and request that specific room number. Zeke, you wait around back, just in case he tries to escape from the balcony. Wouldn't be a smart idea from the second floor, but anything is possible. And Michael - you need to make sure to pull this one off quietly. We don't need the rest of the people inside to wake up to gunshots."

By the time they had landed, Michael had fastened the buttons of his jacket - one which hid a concealed camera - and placed the small earpiece into his right ear. He removed the silencer from the USP in order to fit it within his pocket, then stepped into the cool morning breeze, where the gates of the private airport were already open and a black SUV was waiting for them. Dawn, six in the morning. They didn't have any time to waste.

The drive, altogether, took less than ten minutes. Once the vehicle pulled up to the front lobby, its two passengers got out. Zeke headed around the building to his designated area, whereas Michael walked through the front door. Inside the modestly furnished room was a counter with a lone receptionist behind it. She looked as though she were barely awake, with dark circles under her eyes. Shit, she looks like hell.

"'Morning," she said, trying a little too hard to feign some sort of enthusiasm. "What can I help you with?"

"I'd like to book a room for tonight," he replied.

"Sure thing," she said with a yawn. He took out his wallet and handed her the card.

"Oh, and if I may, I'd like to request a specific room. I generally ask for 208 when it's available." She shook her head.

"Pretty sure that one is occupied, but let me check just to make sure." She tapped away at the keyboard, then looked at it confusedly. "Huh, guess I was wrong. It's vacant." The receptionist handed him the card key, as well as his debit card and receipt. "Enjoy your stay."

Michael nodded then turned away. He decided to take the stairs in an effort to save time. Upon reaching the second floor, he opened the door and looked across the hallway, finding it to be completely empty - far too early for most people to consider getting up. Alright, evens on the left. The room of interest was the fifth one from the stairs. He quietly walked up in front of it, and, checking once more to make sure no one was around, took the pistol out of his jacket and screwed on the silencer. Keeping it in his right hand, he slowly inserted the card key before swinging the door open.

A man well up into his fifties had just finished putting on a blazer, and jumped back in shock from the untimely assailant. Another outwardly-decent looking fellow, one that better resembled a kindly professor rather than a trafficking admin. Now he looked as though he had seen a ghost - his face pale and drained of color - and instantly Terrence knew what was going to happen. "That's him alright," Wesley said.

A pair of silent shots tore through his chest. He looked down at the two growing red spots amidst the white dress shirt before falling into the wall. One more shot - to the head, just to be safe - and his neck snapped back before he fell limp onto the floor.

"Alright son, you're done for the time being. At this point, nearly every admin has been capped."

"That's good news if I've ever heard it," Michael said while tucking the weapon back into his jacket pocket. With any luck, this following year wouldn't be nearly as busy. Perhaps the old "hurry up and wait" routine.

"I'm heading back around," Zeke said. "By the way, Michael, you kinda punched some holes in the vinyl siding outside. You all gonna fix that, Hawk?"

"The clean-up crew will see to it," Wesley replied. "Collateral damage is always to be expected. Not nearly as significant an issue as compared to a trafficker running loose in the country."

Figuring that his job here was done, Michael left the way he came, only to discover the receptionist with her head in her folded arms, asleep on the desk. Yeah, that was only a matter of time. Zeke was waiting inside the vehicle, clearly ready to go.

"Takin' your time I see," the zoroark said.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I left the gun back in the room," Michael joked. "And that's a nice fucking pistol. Be right back."

"Shut the hell up and get in."

Before long, the two of them were on their way to the base, scheduled to arrive there before midday. By this point, the exhaustion was starting to catch up with Michael, and he decided that a nice, long nap would do him well. As he began to drift off, though, he couldn't shake the feeling that he truly was forgetting something. Must not be anything important if I can't remember it…

. . . . .

"Get your lazy ass up," Zeke said, nudging him awake. Michael rolled his eyes.

"You know," he said while stretching out, "that's kinda funny, considering I did all the hard work earlier…" Zeke seemed as though he was trying to think up some sort of smart-ass comeback, but couldn't come up with anything.

"Whatever. C'mon, though, seriously. We're here." Michael rolled his eyes in response.

"Alright, alright." He grabbed his equipment and hoisted it over his shoulder, making his way down the familiar path into the base. Once inside, Zeke went on his way whereas Michael headed to their armory. Hanging the suit in its respective case, he shut it for the last time over the course of his time off. Now all he had to do was turn in the concealable camera that he had used during his last mission. But before he brought the device to the Commander, Michael decided to visit the girls. Hopefully Ver would have calmed down by now.

As he fumbled through his pocket for the key to his room, he noticed something off. The door was slightly open. Huh… that's strange? He walked inside and looked around. Usually, there was at least one of them nearby to greet him every time he returned, but at the moment he couldn't find a single one of them. "Girls?" Silence was his response. He checked both of the bedrooms, only to find himself truly alone in their quarters. Where are they? Did they go out for the day? He shut and locked the door behind him. They must be somewhere in the base. Shit, he thought, I hope they're all together. It would be a hell of a time to find them if they weren't.

The vibration in his pocket shifted his attention away from the girls' whereabouts. "Hello?"

"You comin' to deliver the camera?" Wesley asked.

"Course. I'll swing by your office as soon as I find the girls."

"Your pokémon?"

"Yeah. They must be wandering around somewhere." The Commander cleared his throat.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about a thing. Only so many places they could have gone. Go ahead and bring me the footage, and we'll look for those five afterwards."

"Alright, I'll meet ya at the office."

"Yeah, about that - I've been moving stuff around as of lately, so it's kinda a mess in there. Why don't you meet me over here in the Battle Arena? Only a floor away from you at the moment." Michael agreed to the proposition, but couldn't help but note the oddity of it. Why would he be at the Battle Arena? Maybe he was currently watching a battle - it was always fun to watch military-trained pokémon go at it. Wesley didn't have a pokémon as far as Michael knew, though, so the Commander participating in a battle himself was off the table.

He got on the elevator once more, heading to his unseemly destination. Perhaps he and the girls should start utilizing the facility. Hell, there probably wouldn't be anyone that would be able to take them down, but it would surely be a lot of fun for them. Not to mention a way to make a bit of extra cash on the side. That is, if anyone was willing to take them on. Might not be very likely, considering our last battle…

After a couple of wrong turns, Michael eventually found a set of double doors. Alright, that has to be it. He pushed them open, and instantly remembered what had slipped his mind. The Commander, Zeke, the girls - somehow even Groudon himself - all stood there waiting for him.

"Happy birthday!" his girls shouted.

. . . . .

The Secretary of Defense stood tall at the podium, his aging body unable to conceal the posture and heart of the soldier he had once been. Connor's stern gaze was caught perfectly by the cameras, and he was speaking without a script. He's seriously gonna do the whole thing off the top of his head, Michael thought in awe. The news anchors had fallen silent as the country prepared to listen to what he had to say. He cleared his throat, then began to speak.

"No doubt that the recent commotion near the border has been on everyone's mind lately. I am here today to put to rest the unease regarding this unanticipated series of operations." He paused for a moment, likely in consideration for how to best convey the information. "The truth is that we have been combatting an enemy without a face." Voices began to chatter among the audience, displaying the discomfort in the room for all throughout the country to see. "Mind you," he said in a permeating, yet flat tone, "that we are not at war. Not even close. Our special forces have done a phenomenal job of eliminating threats wherever they may appear, and they have been instrumental in keeping both the people of Kanto and Johto from danger.

Now, of course, the question is this: what have we been dealing with over these past years? The truth is unnerving to say the least, but this country of ours has always been willing to face reality, however intimidating it may be. The cause of concern was initially traced to several accounts of missing humans and pokémon a few years ago, initially discovered in the manifestation of the Hoenn Massacre back in 2030. Those responsible for the atrocity have formed a nameless organization that places no value on the lives of people - one that only sees dollar signs in place of morality. They have been selling their captives into prostitution and slavery, running drug markets, and are responsible for the attempted elimination of legendary pokémon." Following the end of Connor's statement was a loud chorus of voices - order had been completely lost within the room as reporters began launching one question after another. "I would ask that everyone remain silent," Connor said over everyone. "I will be taking questions afterwards." After a few moments, the voices died down and Connor was able to resume speaking once again.

"I am sure that, among the many things on everyone's mind right now, is the inquiry of whether or not there is need for concern. The answer to that is no - at the very moment of this revelation, our armed forces have demolished nearly every single part of this organization - their bases, their products, and even their leadership, on top of liberating thousands upon thousands of hostages. Over these past few days, we have carried out raids, as well as assassinations, to ensure that people of this sort do not gain access to our land for their business. No, we will not condone the likes of them and the market they wish to bring here. So mass mobilization was needed to stop whomever would try to cross the border, and any who already lived in this region were eliminated.

This is why many of our men have been stationed out in Kanto this past year. We have devoted many of our resources to uprooting this organization, and now, that job is just about complete. All that is left for us to do is go after the head of the snake. As a result of the cooperative efforts between us and our allies in the CIC, all of the regions will be able to enjoy the peace of mind that came before these thugs sprung up. Despite what it may have looked like, we continue to have exemplary relations with Kanto, whose assistance has been invaluable in defeating this enemy." Connor concluded his announcement, and the questions began. "For the love of Arceus, one at a time," he said in irritation. Quickly he selected the nearest reporter to settle the noise.

"You said that the armed forces are currently engaged in this conflict, though this organization is nearly destroyed."

"That is correct," Connor answered.

"Are you able to disclose this so-called 'head of the snake' that you mentioned?"

"I cannot release that information, but rest be assured that he is being tirelessly pursued. We will take him out." He pointed to another reporter.

"How long are military personnel expected to remain on the border?" she asked.

"Indefinitely. Just for precautionary measures, both us and the CIC have secured each side of the border to ensure that any those who with bad intentions do not enter this country."

"But how," the reporter continued, "will this effect regular citizens? How does the military plan to distinguish the good from the bad?"

"Excellent question," he responded. "Unfortunately, the fact is that we cannot always separate those who would mean us harm from the average person - if we were able to do this, then we wouldn't have had issues with traffickers within our own boundaries. The only way to ensure that we keep the bad ones out is to temporarily enact a total travel ban between the two regions."

"A complete ban? So common people will not be able to cross?" the reporter asked, with a shocked tone in her voice.

"Unfortunately so. With this current situation, we have decided against taking any risks whatsoever. Though a total travel ban does bring about inconvenience to the innocent, it is our belief that a sex trafficking market opening within our borders is something far worse than a temporary cease on trans-regional transportation." The answer seemed to satisfy this particular reporter, who abstained from asking any further questions.

"You stated that the terrorists had been attempting to eliminate legendary pokémon. Why would they be doing this?" a third reporter asked.

"Well," Connor replied to him, "we aren't quite sure of that ourselves. We believe that the reason lies in the fact that legendaries are a threat to them - a threat that would stand up to their detestable ways. So they chose to capture them, and possibly try to coerce them into joining their side. If they refused, then they decided upon draining the very life from them."

"W-what? But why draining?"

"They are formidable creatures, are they not? Consider the sheer amount of power that can be generated from one - millions of dollars' worth is my guess. And they had several."

"So generating electricity?" The reporter immediately seized upon the opportunity. "So then this would have been what the battle at the Power Plant was about!"

"Yes. That mission was implemented in order to rescue several legendaries that had been captured by the traffickers. However, the CIC took the reigns on that particular mission - we only helped supply the weaponry."

"That's not entirely true," he said back to Connor. "You all also supplied that Reaper." Ah, fuck. But before he could say another word, Connor cut him off.

"I am able to offer the public with information regarding the foreign threats that we have been facing, but I will not disclose anything related to one of our soldiers. Goodnight." The Secretary walked off stage, ignoring any following questions as he exited the screen's view. Thanks for that…

He shut off the television, then rubbed the sleeping flygon's shoulder. She had only been upset because of the fact that he had taken work both during the course of his time off and his birthday, but had been understanding when everything was said and done. Before long, they wouldn't need to worry about stuff like this anymore. The world would be a much safer place once the rest of the fragmented trafficking organization was eliminated. But there was one thing standing in their way. One single person. He carefully slipped his phone out of his pocket and opened the picture of the enemy.

To any, he looked as any other trainer, but when one looked closer, the devil could clearly be seen in Douglas's eyes. We're coming for you, you son of a bitch. And perhaps his hatred was contagious - that sceptile didn't look much better. She seemed to replicate her trainer's innermost desires of wiping out those who didn't agree with violence. It was now upon his newly careful examination of the photo that Michael caught something that he hadn't before. The bracelet she wore which held her mega stone had something written on it - had it not been slightly tilted towards the camera, it would have been impossible to notice. He scrolled in slightly to magnify the letters, and was finally able to make out the text. Michael simply sat there, his eyes unable to look away from the screen as he repeated the name over and over again in his head. Raptor.