Chapter Fifteen: The Secret Service

The gun felt cold in Cecille's hands. The simplicity of that feeling, the metal against his paws, stopped him being swept away by this absurdity. Taylor lay wounded and unconscious on the ground. Noxos brewed uncomfortably beside him. Cleo, wearing a steel brace with shoulder mounted cannons, stared at him. Lamia, with several belts of grenades wrapped around her, stayed silent. And the boy… wearing a knitted jumper and no shoes, looking anywhere between twenty and twelve, who had beaten Taylor without touch and then carried him here, gave nothing away.

Cecille shifted and flashed a glare towards Noxos. "Tell me again why you two thought it was a good idea not to wait."

Noxos wrinkled against the dirt. "Taylor insisted he investigate why the only figure we could see was a… was this individual."

"And you never considered that the others might be hiding?" asked Cecille.

"Taylor…" Noxos gave a swampy sigh. "Taylor did not think it likely they would leave a single, unarmed human alone… if they were hiding."

Cleo scoffed. "Unless they were leaving bait."

"Bait does not pummel people into unconsciousness," rung out the spores, finally speaking. Lamia stepped forward, six legs shifting like clockwork. "Tell us again, who is it you work for?"

The young man stared at Lamia, statuesque. "I told you, the agency doesn't have a name. Those aware of it… they generally call it The Secret Service."

Cecille felt his ear twitch. He flashed a look to Cleo who flashed a look back. He felt the spores on his fur shiver. There had always been rumours, amongst every agency, paranoid conjecture and drunken assumptions; they had all listened as someone tried to convince them that 'The Secret Service definitely exist.' Cecille still wasn't sure if he should believe.

It made logical sense: an agency secret to all other agencies, loyal only to The High Chancellor. But for it to actually remain a secret, be that good at its job, be impervious to any search for proof… until now… and for the proof to be this…

Cecille tightened his grip on his gun, trying to ground himself. He was getting worked up. Looking the boy over again, he tried not to meet his eyes; everytime their eyes met, Cecille could feel tendrils in his mind, forced flashes and unintelligible whispers. Whoever or whatever this thing was - it really was psychic, knitted jumper and bare feet be damned.

He needed a cigarette.

The Meowth exhaled aggressively, slinging his gun over his shoulder and lighting a cigarette. "Noxos, watch him. The three of us need to have a conversation."

"I will watch," began Noxos, a bubbling bout of awe and horror in its voice. "But having seen what only I have seen… I doubt I could constrain this creature… if it came to violence." The Muk shifted closer to the human. "But I will watch."

Cecille took another deep breath and tried not to panic. "Good. Watch." He gestured and his armed companions followed.

Standing several feet away, lit by the torches on Cleo's cannons, they whispered.

"What the fuck do we do?" asked Cecille.

"I don't know. Do you believe him?" asked Cleo.

"I don't know." replied Cecille. "All I know is that Taylor is unconscious, has what looks like a broken leg and a dislocated shoulder, and that Noxos says he got that way-"

"Because the kid threw him against the ground with his mind," replied Cleo. "It's tricky."

"Tricky?!" Cecille cracked again, wanting nothing more than to point his gun at her. "Tricky?! It's a lot more than fucking tricky, Cleo."

"Alright, calm down, I'm just-"

"You're just what?"

The spores shuddered. "We have never found evidence suggesting the existence of The Secret Service, and Lamia assumes that neither have either of you."

Cecille and Cleo both grumbled. It annoyed Cecille they did it in unison.

"No."

"Yeah, no."

The spores drifted, dancing through the air like firing neurons. "Still… A waifish human with psychic powers potent enough to defeat a Pikachu… and with ease… We believe, if such an agency existed, these would be the kind of agents they would utilise."

Cleo raised an eyebrow. "The government has a public policy for human psychics."

The spores twitched, chuckling. "They have a public policy for Ditto as well."

Cecille sighed, finished his cigarette and lit another. "And what if the human is in cahoots with the Alakazam?"

Cleo nodded, "Not impossible."

Cecille matched her nod, "Not implausible."

The spores were unsettled. "Not likely."

Cecille took a long drag and began pacing. "So then what? There's a government agency that no one is aware of, at least partially staffed by young psychic humans - who have what? Been stolen from their parents as babies, not been given names, been trained to a power level no one would expect of a human, and sent out into the world, strange but inconspicuous, on secret missions known only to the highest level of government - with no loyalty to or experience of the actual outside world, only beholden to their shadowy masters - a secret army of psychic children, both devastating and disposable… that… they… Oh."

As the words left his mouth Cecille began to believe them.

"Fuck…" Cecille looked at Cleo. "That doesn't sound like something that couldn't be happening."

Cleo grimaced and looked away. "No… It does not sound like the worst explanation."

The spores relaxed. "A better explanation than the Alakazam hiding and raising a human child for decades before abandoning it."

Cleo snapped back. "What if they were a contact from the outside?"

"We would have known." The spores tensed. "A human with this kind of power, not hidden by deep government apparatus, we would have known."

Cecille could not help but laugh. "Oh, it wouldn't have slipped through your net? Hmm?" He stepped towards her, lighting a third cigarette. "Whatever that thing is, regardless of how it got here - something has slipped through your net. That…" Cecille swung an accusatory paw towards the darkness, pointing at where the boy might be. "That does not look like Social Order, Special Agent Lamia."

Cecille's anger and instinctive smirk suddenly collapsed; something was caught in his throat. Coughing, heaving, trying to breathe, he realised it was the spores. Cecille felt them speaking in his lungs.

"Do not mock us, Cecille Freys."

Cecille pounded his chest, wretched and pointed his gun at Lamia. "St- GAH- ST- LAMIA!"

Cleo blew a gout of flame between the two, scorching the earth and sending a sphere of fire into the air.

The parasite stepped back and Cecille's airways cleared.

"This is absurd!" exclaimed the Growlithe. "Regardless of our theories, we're in this situation. And Cecille, you may have asked us to walk off a little, but I'm certain that kid - one way or another - has heard everything we've said." Cleo huffed, the ruby around her neck catching the light. "Hey kid! Have you heard everything we've said?!"

A voice resounded in the darkness. "More."

Cleo chuckled. "More… Great… He sure knows how to sound ominous." She stomped towards Cecille, fielding a confidence only soldiers could conjure. "Cecille- No, what is it Taylor calls you? Freys. Freys, you started this whole fucking shitshow. You convinced us to come here and start this." Cleo growled, rolling her shoulders and leaning forward. Cecille could not help but point his gun at her. She didn't flinch. "Take control of the fucking situation. Act like a fucking leader you limp-dicked stray cat. Because, if you don't take charge right now, we are all going to fucking die. Or I'm going to shoot you all, take your car, and try to pretend like none of this ever happened." Cleo smiled. "I love you Freys, but you're acting like a bitch."

Cecille Freys - Senior Executive Taxation Officer, Trained and Registered Financial Field Agent, Dr of Economics - let go of his gun. As the weapon hung from its sling, he rolled his shoulders, leant forward and growled. "There's only one bitch here. And if they wanted to kill us or run away, either we'd be dead or they'd be gone - or some attempt at either would have transpired. But none of that has transpired. So…" Cecille puffed his chest, tensed his face, turned all his blood to stone, and swung around. Marching back to the human, he locked gazes with them. "So, if we're to believe all the insanity you've told us: we must also believe something else: you want to work with us, or we've trapped you."

The human glanced over at Taylor's unconscious body. "Trapped?"

Cecille cocked his rifle and stepped back. "If you're confident enough to take us all on, then do it, human."

The human swallowed, a small fracture appearing in its certainty. "I'm not here to take you all on."

Cecille smiled. "So you want to work together."

The human's eyes shifted from side to side, its fracture cracking further. "You found where Alakazam- the Alakazam had been." The human stepped forward, resolidifying. "It would be foolish to not learn how… and why you were searching. A group of… of Skarmory found the Alakazam. You do not look like…" The human took a deep breath; Cecille could feel something being snatched from his mind. "This is not a legal… government… group. You weren't sent here to do this."

Cecille felt his claws curling out, scratching at the rifle. "So you're just gathering information?"

"I…" The human put his hand out, attempting to maintain calm. "I assume you appreciate the fact that none of us have caught the Alakazam. The only thing left to gather here is information."

Cecille calmed, but raised his weapon. "Do you want to work with us or not?"

The human forced a small smile; it could have been fear, but Cecille saw the arrogance inside it. "If I refuse, you will try to kill me?"

He could not help but shoot a look over his shoulder; Cleo and Lamia stood, half masked in shadow, a few feet behind him. "We don't want to kill you."

"I don't want to die."

Cecille gripped his rifle and locked eyes with the human. "So, you want to work together?"

A pause rippled through them; all was eyes and subtle sounds; Cecille caught Noxos shifting in the distance. "Yes," said the human. "Let's work together."

Cecille had heard what he wanted to hear, but still did not know how to feel. "Good. And once this is done…" Cecille searched for something subtle enough.

The human spoke first. "You want a reward. You don't really care about catching Al- the Alakazam. You just want a reward."

Lamia crept towards them. "That is the second time you have corrected Alakazam for The Alakazam."

The human huffed, clenching its fists. Cecille did not feel safe. "Don't change the subject. You are looking for a reward, aren't you?"

Cecille took back control. "Yes, we are, so what?"

Unclenching its fists, the human sighed. "I'm sure you will get it. From what I have been told… this really- truly… This is the last Alakazam."

Cecille could not stop his heart from swelling. He looked at each of his companions, even to Noxos - who seemed to be trying to smile. Still, seeing Taylor's body gave him pause. "That's good to know. But we need to get Taylor back to the car… or someone needs to go back to the car and get the medkit. Unless you've also got healing powers?"

The human smiled, and it unsettled everyone. "No, I don't have healing powers."

"Cleo!" shouted Cecille, trying to be soldierly. "Go get the medkit!"

A brief pause punched back. "Oh, so I won't be part of the decision making. When you plot our next move."

Cecille felt his stomach twist. Luckily it didn't last.

"We will go," spoke the spores. "We have nothing to add to the next decision. Further, Lamia has begun to worry for Taylor." Speaking nothing more of its magnanimous offer, the great insect and its greater infection, crawled itself and its cloud of consciousness away and out of sight.

Cleo was still visibly upset. Cecille did all he could to stop his stomach twisting once more. He looked at her, suggesting as loudly as eyes could that she should speak.

Thankfully she acquiesced. "I assume, even with Lamia gone, this human will be part of the decision making. Even more, I assume you're going to ask them to initiate."

Cecille was a little unsure of what she meant; he was a lot keen to hear her say it. "Initiate?"

Cleo rolled her eyes. "You're going to ask it, 'Oh, what do you think we should do next?"

Something new inside him cracked, something that had never cracked before, something emergency. Cecille strode towards her, one clawed digit pointing. "Didn't you tell me to take charge of the situation? Didn't we agree to believe him? Most importantly: do you have a plan for what we should do next?" He paused. He watched her mouth open a moment. He watched her mouth close. "Your tough soldier routine, it's pretty much only good for stopping people acting like dicks. I'm trying very hard right now not to act like a dick - largely because you told me not to. And you acting like a dick, after everyone has stopped, is not helping!"

Cleo did nothing but smirk. "It's not my fault Cecille, if take charge, and that's a bad decision, are both valid."

Cecille could barely comprehend this conflict; his mind was nearly overloading. "Okay. Go on then, you tell me, what should we do next?"

He heard her cannons lock and load. He smelt her mouth ignite with flame. He watched her take position. Cleo faced the human, unrepentant in aggression. "We kill him," she said.

Cecille was only drowned deeper in bewilderment. "What?!"

"Regardless of who he is or where he's from, it's safer if we eliminate him. Look what he's done to Taylor - even if you don't believe in vengeance for fallen allies - it's logically safer."

"You do know he can hear us."

Cleo smirked. "Oh yeah, he's right there. But if he goes for me, Noxos is next to him, and you're not far either. He can't take us all down."

Cecille fumbled for a cigarette and dropped the packet. "Where the fuck is this coming from? Before-"

"I knew Lamia would side with the spook. She's more interested in finding out where this fucker is from than keeping us safe." Cleo began growling, flames licking between her teeth. "I knew if I complained, she'd go get the medkit. This is our chance Cecille, this is our only chance to completely neutralise the-"

"NO!" screamed Cecille. "No. We are not- Cleo, stand down. Stand. Down. STAND DOWN!"

With a glare she wished not to relinquish, a twitching stance, and a final growling turn, Cleo stood down.

Cecille watched her step away, a deep disappointment broiling within her. "Great…" he began. Glancing over at the human, who had stood like stone through the entire ordeal, Cecille tried to show remorse. The human gave him nothing in return. "Great, well now they're certain at least one of us wants to kill them."

Cleo chuckled as she walked away. "So what, Cecille? If they are who they say they are, and especially if they're not, I'm sure they've got a plan to kill every one of us." Without stopping, she shot him a look, "You think The Secret Service don't want to stay secret?"

Cecille watched her as she prowled into the darkness. He looked over to the human, stationary and silent. He glanced at Noxos, uncertain eyes caught in an uncertain mass. He considered Taylor, beaten, broken and still unconscious. He searched for something else… but there was nothing. All Cecille had left was himself and the questions he feared to answer. What the fuck has happened? What do I do now? Is that kid really from The Secret Service?

Cecille left a pause unbecoming of a leader.

"Oh just ask it, Cecille," spat Cleo from the shadow. "Ask it what to do."

Cecille stepped forward, looking down, still searching, still uncertain, still gripping his rifle.

Then the human spoke. "Johto Province. They've gone to Johto."

Every eye snapped focus on the self-claimed secret agent. Even Taylor gasped himself awake. "Johto?!" he croaked, before crying in pain.

Cecille rushed over to the Pikachu. "You're- Oh buddy you're awake."

"I think my leg is broken," replied Taylor, struggling and failing to sit up.

"Yeah…" said Cecille, kneeling so he could cradle Taylor's head. "It's pointing in a direction I really don't think it's meant to point."

Taylor winced. "My arm, it also-"

"Your shoulder is dislocated."

Taylor gave the smallest of nods and sweetest of smiles. "I really got my ass kicked, didn't I?"

"You did," added Cleo, having approached. "Cecille wants to take advice from the ass-kicker."

Taylor coughed, wincing at the pain it caused. "The kid? It was a kid? It wasn't Alakazam in disguise? Please tell me it was Alakazam in disguise."

"It wasn't," said the human, having closed in on the scene.

"Great…" replied Taylor, giving the smallest of nods and no smile. "So you didn't kill them."

"I suggested it," stamped Cleo.

Cecille wanted nothing more than to scratch her across the eyes. "They want the same thing we do. They could help."

Taylor cringed. "So what, they're… Who are they?"

Cleo rolled her eyes and walked away. Cecille held him closer. Taylor tried to take control but only hurt himself.

"Where is she going?" demanded Taylor.

Cecille forced a smile. "She's not exactly thrilled by the current situation."

Taylor looked down at his body, then back up at Cecille. "Buddy, as someone who can't move - I'm not exactly thrilled by the current situation either. What's going on? Why is the weird human with no shoes who beat me half to death WITH THEIR MIND just stood there?!"

"They work for The Secret Service."

"This is a fucking dream. Or I'm dead. Or this is the dream I have before I die."

Small arcs of electricity began to spark from Taylor's body, but Cecille did not let go. Shocked over and over, Cecille gripped his wounded friend, and eventually shouted "This is real, Tales!"

Taylor calmed down. "Is someone getting a medkit?"

"Lamia is."

"And she believes in this?"

"She does."

"The Secret Service… and we're still going after the Alakazam?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"We need to go to Johto Province."

"Fuck me, Freys."