THE MYSTERY OF BABA YEGA-CHAPTER 7
By Red Star
NOTE: I do not own Pokemon and Thanks should go to Dragoness for allowing me to twist her story around a bit.
Baba Yega leaned against her cane as she looked out the massive windows at the moon. Ah, yes. Age had apparently been cruel to her, but only because she had allowed it to be. She cared nothing for great beauties. Underneath all the makeup, eyes, features, and implants, people were merely people.
The Prince himself had known that for quite some time. Men and women who considered themselves experienced in testing character based on the fact that they had lived through times like that were fools in his eyes. People who lauded over an undefeatable (in their eyes) enemy had no place in the world, he believed. It was all a matter of finding their weakness, and then slicing it open and pouring cyanide into it. The weak man who couldn't find it was doomed. So the Prince said.
She turned to the Prince, who sat in an armchair before a chess table. In his right hand, a Black King wound it's way through his fingers. His face was calm as if he were contemplating some new move against an invisible foe. The Prince finally set the king down in front of the black group, facing the whites. "I believe that is an illegal move, Prince Tepes," said Baba Yega. The Prince smirked cunningly at her. "Sometimes, we must break the rules in war. My friend Napoleon realized that." The old sorceress nodded and tapped her way over to a chair facing the Prince. Those blue eyes seemed to blaze with an invisible fire as he continued speaking. "They have arrived in Moscow, from there this little game will pick up speed," as he spoke, his black clothed arm blurred the chessboard. When he was done, all the black and white pieces were out of their starting places. "As it goes on, Little Grandmother, we must see to it that these Breathers are placed strategically; they will be necessary for the first test."
The Imperial Flight, that is, Dane I's personal Ilyushin-96 airplane, cruised to a slow stop in Moscow International just before midnight. Airport personnel in the pay of the Kremlin scrambled out of the shadows of the tarmac reserved for government officials.
Delia Ketchum and the others from Pallet emerged from the Emperor's personal airplane to shouts in hoarse Russian and gray uniformed men scrambled to the sides of the plane. MGB troops came out soon after and took grim watch at the windows. "But the Emperor isn't on this plane," said Mrs. Ketchum to the pilot as they got out. "They know, but it's procedure," shrugged the pilot. Soon after crossing into the skies over the Russian Empire's Central Asian Region, four MIG-35s took up position at it's flanks. That was also procedure. It was a pretty comfortable flight; lots of space, a fully stocked kitchen, a big screen TV installed in the Emperor's airborne office, and a computer that had three of Dane's favorite video games downloaded on them. During the eight-hour flight, the chef assigned to the plane served a meal called pelmeny, meat dumplings served with butter, and for dessert whipped up a desert called vareniki, boiled dumplings filled with strawberry fillings. Brock and Richie were amazed to find a small library near the front of the plane flooded with history books, books on flags and medals, architecture, manga books, Tom Clancy and Dale Brown novels, a small collection of Fred Saberhagen's Dracula Series, a few Dave Berry books, and various other humor writers. Misty found a bathroom that was richly stocked and included a shower. With these unique activities to entertain them, the group enjoyed their flight to the largest totalitarian state in the world.
The groups luggage was shoved into a black van behind a ZIL limousine marked with the Imperial Standard and the Imperial banner. The van was followed by two other cars. "Security," said an MGB officer. The group was pushed into the Emperor's car and the motorcade went off with a motorcycle escort joining them at the exit from the tarmac.
Brock dozed off beside Sabrina, Richie was tickling Togepi with a giggling Misty holding it, Billie sat just staring at the limo's floor, and Delia listened to the MGB officer. "His Imperial Majesty welcomes you to Moscow, the Third Rome, capital of the Russian Empire. Now, I have to tell you of the etiquette when one is before the Emperor…"
It continued on and on, until the motorcade turned into Red Square and made a beeline for the Kremlin. "Uh, excuse me," she said to the MGB officer, "Where are we staying?" "Oh, at the Grand Kremlin Palace. The Emperor considers you his guests." Delia stiffened as the limo passed a saluting Imperial Guard officer and entered the center of power of one-sixth of the planet.
Anya Polosev took a swig of her bottle of vodka as she watched Ash fire another bolt of power into a dummy. "Good, good," she declared. She snatched a Pokeball off of her belt and hurled it over to the gym floor. "Alakazam," said the massive creature as the white glow vanished. "Now, Ash, I want you to listen closely to Alakazam. He's the one that got me through the Red League." She rose to her feet from the chair by the west wall and made her way out the door. The newly appeared Psychic Pokemon glared down at the captive Mew. Uh…heh-heh…hello.
Alakazam's eyes narrowed.
So, you are the Mew Mistress was talking about…
Yep…
Awfully cheerful for a drone, aren't you?
What do you mean?
Look at you, look at that…thing Mistress has put on you!
Silence…
Alright, let's begin. Let me see…What's that?
Alakazam became surrounded by a reddish glow and was hurled into the air like a baby. The Pokemon grunted and picked himself up, his eyes began to blaze a furious yellow.
How are… The glow reappeared and Alakazam was thrown up into the air and smashed into the opposite wall. Then, the Pokemon was hurled once again against another wall. He moaned a little, but stayed down.
In the gym, there was a sun roof hanging over the middle of the gym. Nekiro hovered over the window, looking down at the now confused Ash.
Perfect…now I'll…
He didn't get to finish as an iron fist smashed into his back and sent him spinning across the roof. Uhhh… he murmured as he looked up to behold a tall man whose form was darkened against the moon. The only feature that would mark him as different was a long cloak that flapped in the wind. "Trying to save your charge? Admirable…" said the dark man, "But foolish…"
Polosev returned with a flask full of coffee. Her mouth dropped open when she saw her collapsed Alakazam. "Ash…you…you," He cringed and would have moved away if he had the power to. I didn't… "You are more powerful than I thought!" Huh?!
"Marvelous! We must begin testing as soon as possible!" But…
She put the flask down on her chair and began pacing back and forth. "There is a SKYSHIELD station nearby, about fifteen miles. We will go there tomorrow."
But…
The menacing fellow's eyes blazed an angry red as he looked down upon the scene. "Now look what you've done! My plan is ruined!" he hissed at Nekiro. He looked down again at the Mew. After a few seconds, Nekiro thought he detected a change in mood in the mysterious man. "But…ah, yes. I have found a way to make your interference into a great victory. Glorious." He cackled to himself. His black cloak swirled as he leaped to his full height and faced Nekiro. "Go to Moscow and tell the Ketchum mother and family where you found him."
I don't take orders from humans… Nekiro answered coldly.
The man's red eyes narrowed and he reached out and plucked Nekiro out of the air.
"You will do as I say!! For his life depends on it," he said as he looked down on the scene below, "As well as the lives of all who breathe," He then hurled Nekiro into the air. The Mew shook it's head and glared back down at the cloaked man. Who are you anyway?
The man smiled, his ivory teeth glimmered in the moonlight.
"For now, I am simply the Prince…"
THE KREMLIN, MOSCOW
Delia Ketchum walked confidently between two Army officers. A mother on a mission.
The two Imperial Guards clicked their heels and threw open the doors. Inside was a group of secretaries nervously tapping away. One of them, a man, stood up and said, "The Emperor awaits you, Mrs. Ketchum."
Dane I waved her into a chair. He finished off a telephone conversation with, "I want that thing done on schedule by Thursday! Understand? Good. Goodbye."
He placed the phone down and walked over to the conference table that Mrs. Ketchum sat at. "Now, Mrs. Ketchum…" he began, "I cannot understand what you may be going through. I am childless and a bachelor myself. But…I am placing all the resources of the Russian Empire at your disposal in the search for your son." He reached over and took her hand. "Mrs. Ketchum, I must tell you now that this is no longer a matter of a missing child;
It is now a matter of National Security."