Chapter Four: Hack In
I've always been proud of my skill with a sword. Especially since my teacher had only been trained in the very basics of swordplay herself, and only passed those basics on to me. Everything combat related comes naturally to Maylene after all. She doesn't know the proper terms for this technique or that, the names of any given stance or form. She just holds the blade and it does what she needs it to do. She's like that with everything that relates to fighting. I'm not, for the most part. My ability at hand to hand, so much less than her's, came about through long hours of bone-cracking effort. Luckily for me, I do have a similar instinct with a katana. Especially lucky, at times like the one I was facing in Ecruteak City.
I ducked, twisted, and parried, barely keeping up with the speed of the slashes seeking out my tender hide. My opponent was smart and quick, never over-committing to an attack in such a way that I could throw him off balance, never under-committing to a point where I could slip inside his range. And he knew the terrain like I know the back of my hand. If I were even a step slower with my feet or sword, it'd have all been over already.
The man facing me was middle-aged, bearded and balding, but roped with muscle. He reminded me of Razor, the Veteran who forged my sword back when I was first getting into business as a PokéMercenary. He even had a similar form of hard-edged friendliness to him, despite the scything attacks he wove ahead of him as he advanced on me again. As I ducked a swipe that would have otherwise taken me right below the jawline and then forced him back and a step to the side using a quick thrust for the chest, my peripheral vision kept an eye on our surroundings looking for an edge.
We were dueling in Ecruteak's Kimono Dance Hall, where the famous Kimono Girls perform. It had expanded a tiny bit over the years, mostly by way of adding a bar in one corner near the door. The stage had also grown since Team Rocket's time, if only to allow for more dancers as the Kimono Girls trained apprentices to take over their roles as both dancers and priestesses of the mighty Lugia.
The room was largely empty, as early in the day as it was, but a pair of the famous dancers and a handful of customers stood at the edge of the stage watching. I couldn't take the fight in that direction for fear of getting them in the mix. The bar itself was too confining, my biggest advantage in this fight so far had been my height and range. My opponent had tried to herd me there multiple times already, and only frantic circling of the open floor had kept me from getting cornered. But wait, I thought to myself as my foe slipped aside from a horizontal cut aimed for his belly, if he wants me to go there perhaps I can use that and bait him.
I feigned fatigue, letting his blows come closer before parrying them, stumbling backwards rather than taking smooth flowing steps to avoid his attacks. It took only seconds for him to pounce on the perceived weakness, herding me back towards the bar and its confined space. I played it up, seeming to try and dart around him to safety only to be "forced" back into position by a thrust or slash. Finally, I felt the small of my back come to rest against the marble bar top, just between two of the luxuriously cushioned bar-stools. My blade was far off to the left, held in one hand and trembling as if my strength was flagging to badly to keep it steady. The swordsman facing me couldn't resist such a target. But he wasn't stupid either.
He whipped his sword around to my left, angled to point at the floor as it passed through the air. Clever man, the motion would assist his windup and give him power on the inevitable down-stroke while also parrying almost any attack I could launch from my current position. He definitely spotted a potential trap... but it was the wrong trap.
As the downward slash came, targeting the center of my skull in what I believe is called a "men" in kendo, I dropped to my knees and bent forward suddenly. His sword smacked hard into the edge of the bar as he followed through on the blow and stopped inches above my head. Suddenly the smile on his face was gone and he found himself looking down at the sword-point resting against his chest where I had thrust it upward just short of skewering him. He blinked in surprise a few times before finally stepping back with a guffaw of genuinely pleased laughter.
"Good fight, good fight," he grabbed the point of my sword, which was of course just a shinai rather than the good steel the owner was holding for me or even a hard wood bokuto, then used it to haul me to my feet. "Thought I had you today."
"You damn near did," I grinned, slapping the big man on the back. "You saw it coming, just didn't see which way it was coming from." The two of us leaned our training blades against the bar while the few spectators applauded the show. "Looks like drinks are on you again tonight Johnny."
"Haven't had a free sake in three days," he grumped good naturedly. "That girl Maylene you told me about taught you well kid." I stayed politely silent rather than correct him on how much Maylene had really taught me. You don't go around telling people you're better than your master.
"Well, its only been a week. If I go on lacking leads like this much longer, you'll have plenty more chances to beat free alcohol out of me." My own grumping was more sour than good natured by then. I'd been renting a tiny room above the Pokémon Center in town for eight days, roaming out around Johto on foot only to fly back on Big Bird empty handed every night. There hadn't been a sign of my quarry as of yet.
"Well, at least you've got help blowing off your frustrations. Too much rage and you won't notice the trail even if you find it." My new friend spoke true. He was a Pokémon collector, he would spend months seeking out new species to grab up and train. He made it harder on himself than perhaps need be, as he tended to select a specific Pokémon and trail it for weeks if need be to make the catch. The methodology was similar enough to mine, even if the targets were not.
"I know it, been down this road before. Just wish I had even the beginnings of a clue where to look next. Nothing is paying off. I'm headed out," I waved to Johnny to forestall further discussion. "Need to think now that my head's been cleared out."
I retrieved my real sword and set off across Ecruteak, heading west towards route 38. Despite the enjoyable sparring match with Johnny, I must've been scowling if the way folks on the street avoided me was anything to go by. I idly flicked a Poké Ball into the air and let Spitpyre out to walk alongside me, getting a companionable snarl from the fighting bird. Walking with a free Pokémon is traditional in Johto these days, not everyone does it but its not looked down on as it is in some regions. I'd attract less notice with him out than without.
As we walked, I stuck my hands in the deep pockets of my trench coat and thought furiously. I don't know Johto the way I know Sinnoh, most times when work takes me out that way its to a specific spot with a specific problem. Still, I was pretty sure I'd checked the obvious spots around the region. I'd tracked down a handful of ex-cons I knew of in the area and worked them for intel. Dug up one or two old Rocket haunts that might've been in use. Nothing doing with any of it. If these assholes were still hanging about Johto at all, they were better at hiding than I'd been at seeking so far.
So maybe I needed to look at this different, just like I had during the fight with Johnny. The crooks had stolen fifteen Lapras, too many to carry around even spread among a reasonable number of crooks. I'd been looking among areas with plenty of storage space or water, especially cold spots. But then, you didn't need real space to keep a number of large Pokémon in did you? Literal tons of Lapras could easily be stored in the PC Box network.
I'd not thought of it up to then, since criminal teams typically don't have much use for the PC network. The average grunt only has access to two Pokémon, maybe as many as four but often as little as one. And those are usually assigned to them by the higher ups, who themselves only have a handful of the poor beasts under their command (albeit much more potent ones). But thinking it through, storage of a large number of stolen Lapras might require it considering the situation. The raid on the preserve had been extremely well planned, executed fast. That spoke to me of a relatively small, but heavily trained force. Trainers with access to more than one Pokémon apiece, with a certainty. So if they weren't keeping the stolen Lapras in any of the secretive places I'd checked on...
A second thought hit me. To plan an operation like that, you'd need all sorts of intelligence on the target location. The strike-force had known exactly where to find the dive spots deep enough to conceal them from above. They'd known which wall of the tower to burn through to have immediate access to the guards and their equipment. They'd disappeared with the tower's boat in a hurry, before backup from the other towers could arrive to check on the communications failure.
"Son of a bitch, they knew exactly where they were going when they went in," I said aloud to Spitpyre. "And the only way you could know all that they knew was if someone told you." I growled aloud, and watched as the grass at Spitpyre's feet browned and smoldered with his response to my anger. "They had an inside man. Hop back in your ball buddy, I need to see Bird. We're going to see Bill."
It was good and dark by the time we made it over Mount Silver and across Kanto to Cerulean City, landing at the Pokémon Center as usual. Switching Spitpyre back into the lead, we headed north along route 24 on the way to Bill's cottage at the end of route 25.
Bill is an odd one in any circle he moves in. He's a self described Pokémaniac, but he doesn't go in for the Pokécosplay or custom t-shirts that are popular fashion among that trainer class. He's a spectacularly talented programmer and inventor who maintains the PC network in both Kanto and Johto all but single-handed, yet he'll drop his focus entirely if someone so much as holds up an Eevee in his presence. He's a weird dude. But he's also friendly, helpful, and very good at what he does. Besides which, he's the only person I know in the two regions involved who has full access to the entire network.
I knocked on the door, a bit louder than might normally be polite. It was somewhat late, after all, and I wanted to make sure he heard me. The door opened wide all in one go, and I found myself facing the man who built the first example of what is undoubtedly the most important computer system in the world. Bill is a smallish man, not much over five feet in height and probably 110 lbs tops. He doesn't look like a computer nerd so much as a very enthusiastic and friendly average guy. His hair is perpetually messy and uncared for, and his clothes are often wrinkled or even stained. He's the sort of driven, focused guy who can't spare too much attention for appearances.
"Hey Bill," I gestured towards the sky, "sorry for coming by so late, but my buddy and I were hoping you could help us with something." I waved in Spitpyre's direction as I spoke, and the mildly irritated look he'd been wearing as I opened the door melted into bright eyed wonder. Bill really does love Pokémon with the intensity of a small child. The sight of something like a Blaziken will soothe over almost anything with him.
"Sure, sure, Devil wasn't it? Come inside and we'll talk." I'd met Bill just the once, during a trip to Blackthorn City some years prior. I was almost surprised he'd remembered my "name," I guess I make an impression. I stepped inside the cottage, eyes scanning the darkened space automatically despite the implausibility of any threat lurking within. An Exeggutor grinned at me with three faces from its own bed in the corner, but nothing else moved within. I let Bill usher me into his kitchen and sat down while he began bustling about making tea.
"Nice place you got here. I envy you, living in Eterna City starts to feel sort of crowded after awhile." I blinked a few times, surprised at my own ability to make small talk when my mind insisted I make haste.
"I like it, yeah. Couldn't handle the city long-term, too many distractions," Bill said over his shoulder as he guided hot water into cups. "How do you take yours?"
"Steeped till its almost black with a drop of milk and all of the sugar," I watched as he quirked an eyebrow at that before shrugging and guessing the amounts. He guessed high, which is what I wanted, so he did pretty well for having gotten such an obtuse answer. Only when he'd settled cups and saucers on the table and had a sip did he bother broaching the subject of why I'd come. "So, how can I help you Devil?"
"I'm working over in Johto, tracking down some Pokémon thieves. Not having any luck running them down at the moment."
"Well, they're not here. Haven't seen any sign of anyone like that. Team Rocket isn't making another comeback are they?" He was mostly joking, but there was a degree of actual worry there. For all the threat they most definitely didn't represent to a strong trainer, the Rockets really were a nightmare for the average folk of Kanto and Johto.
"No, nothing like that. I think they've gone to ground in Johto, but they stole a large number of Pokémon. Fifteen in total, to be specific. I'm thinking they might be using the storage system to keep them under wraps until they're ready to leave the region." I hoped he'd go with it and let me keep the details under wraps, Oak and Lorelai were expecting some discretion after all. But Bill is ethical, in his way. He'll gladly test a new style of teleportation device on himself, but he's not so big on invading people's privacy. Come to that, neither am I, but Bill looked especially unhappy at the prospect.
"You want me to go pawing through people's boxes looking for stolen Pokémon? Not gonna happen pal. Even if I would do that, and I won't, you'd be better off walking down the street shouting. There are millions of people in the network with dozens of boxes each." He stood up and walked angrily to the window over his sink. "Even discounting the empty, unused boxes, that'd take years to search."
"Oh come on Bill, you're Bill," I shook my head. "You and I both know you could throw together a search program or something that'd get it done in no time." I could see his eyebrows go up as he realized this was true, but flattery alone wasn't going to get this done. "Look, let me lay out some details here. I'm working for Oak, and he wants this kept quiet," I stressed quiet subtly, "but this is a little bigger than I made it sound."
I spelled it all out for him, sparing him the descriptions of the attack site. He looked a bit too squeamish for that sort of thing. He turned green enough as it was, once I mentioned the dead and injured guards, as well as the dead Lapras.
"Who would do something like that?" he finally asked, after a sickened silence had passed.
"I think I know at least one of the bastards behind this," I said, shooting 'pyre a look to keep him from burning through the floor in reaction to my anger. "He's a sniveling piece of shit who'd stand aside and let his bosses kill a little boy's Treecko," I suppressed a growl so as not to give the identity of that little boy away, "but he must've taken a level in badass to pull a job like this. I need your help to find him."
"I'm on it. I actually already have a search function in the system, left over from the early days when Pokémon used to glitch into the wrong box," he said as he walked over to a bulky console in the living area. I just need to redefine it to go system wide," he was typing fast, already focused on the task. I wandered over to have a look at the rows of Pokémon books, figuring I'd need to keep entertained while the computer whiz did his thing. I was just pulling down an encyclopedia of Fighting-types when Bill chuckled and said "Alright, I'm in. Want me to start scanning with Johto or Kanto? And don't forget, the Sevii Islands are technically on a separate network."
"Um..." I paused, flummoxed. I hadn't expected it to go quite that fast. "How long will the searches take, do you think?"
"Hmmm, I'd say about one day per region. Less than half that for the Islands." He craned around to look at me. "You got something to narrow it down? That'd help."
"Yeah, maybe. But this has to stay quiet, not even Oak can hear about this until I'm sure and have someone in custody, if it pans out. You good with that?"
"Sure, sure. I don't really hear from the Prof. that often, unless he's sending some kid with a Pokédex up this way. Whatcha got?" Satisfied, I dug into my memory and gave him five names. The names of Lapras poachers I'd caught and kicked the stuffing out of during my time as the preserve's sole guard, back during construction of the defenses. They'd been the best of the bunch, the most difficult to catch and the hardest to subdue. And against my advice, Prof. Oak had decided that anyone who gave me that much trouble had plenty of potential to be a guard.
"Check those five. Not a single one should have a Lapras, Oak and Lorelai agreed to let them have a hatchling once the population got high enough but that's projected for like five more years off." I paced over to glare at the screen over his shoulder. "If one of them has a Lapras, he's probably involved."
"Got a hit," Bill said. "Right here, Guard Jolson. Deposited a Lapras via the Fushia City Pokemon Center. That tracked, Jolson had been one of the more aggressive poachers back in the old days and he'd owned a Magnemite. I hadn't seen him with it since he hired on at the preserve, but he no doubt still had it.
"Can you shift it into a secure box for safe-keeping while I go find Jolson?" I asked, already headed for the door and reaching for Big Bird's Premiere Ball.
"No can do."
"What? Why?" I demanded. I badly wanted the gentle beasts away from anyone who would throw in with the raiders, let alone actually turn his Pokémon on his fellow guards.
"Because I just watched him withdraw it from the center in Cerulean City, just south of here," he smirked at me. "What are you gawping at? Go get him."
"Already gone!" I called, already out the door and airborne.
Author's Note: Sorry this one is so very, very late. A lot happened between chapter three and four, over here in the real world. I have a baby girl now, that'd be the biggest thing. But after all that, chapter four is finally a go. And it looks like Devil finally has a target to shoot for.