It was, Delia Ketchum had to admit, a very nice prison. Yet it was a prison nonetheless. And after so much time there, she was ready to try something a little desperate to escape it.
She took one last look around the suite from where she laid in her bed, covers tucked up to her chin, gathering her courage. It was a beautiful, undoubtedly expensive suite in a working hotel as far as she could determine. The colorful interior stucco walls, lively paintings, decorative jungle plants, and breezy rooms gave her prison an authentic Spanish flavor she actually liked. She'd never lacked for necessities, much less comfort. Delia could move about her suite as she wished; spending most of her time in the open-air bedroom and living room combo, naturally. She was free to use the small, short hallway to reach the fully appointed bathroom whenever she needed.
Ultimately there were only a few jarring reminders she was imprisoned and not on vacation. The empty telephone and computer ports in the walls stared blankly back at her, mocking her inability to call for help. Guards armed with ready Pokéballs were another problem. Some brought her meals and a fresh choice of clean clothes every day. Some patrolled the grounds regularly outside the glass double doors leading to the pool off of her bedroom. The blinds over those glass doors had been removed, obstructing her privacy. Delia always slept fully dressed as a result. She was not about to perform a free lingerie show.
Also, one permanent guard was in the tiny lobby connecting her suite to the rest of the facility, just one wooden door outside her hallway enroute to the bathroom. I haven't even tried the pool or spa because of those guards, Delia mused to herself, What kind of service is that?
How she wished her son and future daughter-in-law were here. Her talented trainers would show these penny-ante thugs a thing or two about how to fight with your Pokémon. Barring that, she would gladly settle for her partner Mimey. The self-defense courses every single woman should take had focused on working with her Pokémon partner. Without him, Delia was all too aware of how relatively vulnerable she was.
Well, there was nothing for it. Neither Ash nor Misty had arrived yet and Delia had finally found a way out herself. All she needed was the opportunity, and tonight she should have that.
As casually as she could, Delia turned her head from the droning television to peer out the glass double doors. The clear sky allowed the full moon to shimmer brightly off the pool's glassy surface. The man she'd nicknamed Private Guard stepped into view across the manicured plot, right on time according to her watch. She'd given him the moniker because he seemed the most nervous about her privacy; he never really stared right back at her like the others but only checked quickly to make sure she hadn't disappeared into thin air.
Which was precisely what she hoped to do. Delia felt a rush of pleasure as the guard, seeing she was indeed still there, turned his attention back to the jungle surrounding the suite as he ambled along his patrol route. Even better, Private Guard's shadow fell sharply back toward Delia's prison. At that angle, Delia's own shadow shouldn't give her away when she was loose. Private Guard moved out of sight around the corner. She had perhaps thirty seconds before the man made it to the other side of the wall and to her bedroom window.
It was now or never. Delia threw off the covers, revealing the simple black t-shirt and matching jeans she'd selected. The outfit resembled the guards' uniforms enough for her to get by. From a distance. In the moonlight's dimness. Or so Delia desperately hoped.
Her sneakers combined with the television's noise and distance to cover Delia's run to the closet from the guard just outside her suite. One spare pillow placed on the bed to be her legs, another atop it to form her torso, and the blankets thrown back over it all. With the TV providing the only light in the room, the classic movie disguise of Delia slumped into bed and dozing off before the boob tube was complete. Just as she'd fooled Private Guard with for two weeks now anyway. Delia fluffed the pillows a bit, fussing to try and get a more believable human shape under the covers.
Private Guard's flashlight gleamed off the side of the house a split second before streaming in the window. Delia recoiled instinctively away, flattening herself against the window frame. The probing beam roved over the shape in the bed, laying kitty-corner to the guard's position. Delia held her breath, along with the rest of her body, stock-still.
Satisfied, Private Guard withdrew and resumed his patrol. Sighing, Delia tried to push her hammering heart back inside her ribcage where it belonged. Good thing the bed's bulky headboard always kept him from noticing the sleeping figure didn't have a head itself. Nerves restored, Delia peeled herself off the wall. She didn't head for the bathroom; she'd never fit down the shower drain or (yuck!) the sewer pipes.
The chimney, on the other hand…
Delia had spent most of the last two weeks chipping, bending, and cursing in a very unladylike fashion at the chimney's metal flue every night. Yesterday she'd finally pried one side loose from the surrounding brick and pushed it back on itself, up the chimney, enough to try squeezing in. To her chagrin, her hips had barely made it. But fit they had, so Delia was convinced that the old brick chimney's rough mortar would provide enough purchase for her to climb up, up, and away. Exhausted from hours spent removing the flue and morning already near, she'd elected to recover that day and flee the following night.
Delia stepped around the bed's headboard and to the chimney directly behind it. Tucked between the glass doors and the window, the chimney was invisible to anyone not actually in the suite with her. And so would she be once she got in. As she pulled four kerchiefs from her pocket, the television caught her eye. The late movie show was playing the prison movie classic, "The Great Escape", dubbed in Spanish. Figures.
The last detail of her plan laid in the kerchiefs. She tied them in pairs, one atop another in each set, across her mouth and just above her eyes. She hoped that would be enough to keep the thick chimney dust from choking or blinding her during the ascent.
Then, with nothing left to do but try, she stuck her arms up the square chimney flue. Her torso followed; that firm, girlish bosom she was normally so proud of made it tough to breathe in the tight confines but at least it was pliable. The hard bone that underlaid her hips and thighs was not. Her own width kept her from doing more than just standing in the chimney at first. She couldn't wiggle her legs more than a fraction of an inch; couldn't get enough purchase.
Soon she discovered she could brace her thighs quite well. Using her legs as a stop to prevent slipping back down, Delia began slowly, painfully pulling herself up the shaft using primarily her arms. At least the kerchiefs were doing their job; she was huffing and puffing but her lungs weren't collapsing. The older woman did her best to focus on the small square of light above; her freedom if she could make it just a few more feet, just a few more…
As she got closer, she got more eager. Pushing through the pain, Delia's fingertips caught on the lip of the chimney's flue. A fresh breeze caught on the lip too and wafted down the shaft around her. She stifled her urge to take a deep breath of that fresh air and coughed on her dust-laden kerchief instead. Delia had to stifle that too. If the guards heard the noise and caught her stuck in the chimney, she'd die of embarrassment. Done swallowing her cough as best she could, she froze to listen for signs of alarm.
The only sounds reaching her ears were those of a normal jungle night. Delia inched herself up just enough to peek over the chimney's edge at the grounds below. Her escape route was, after all, on a corner of the outside wall. She had a great view of Private Guard making another trip around the pool. The older woman forced herself to hang on in the chimney until he'd made it all the way around this side of the building, disappearing behind a corner.
Stiff and sore, Delia could finally pull herself up onto the chimney's sill. She took a second to tug the kerchiefs off and wipe her face and hair with their inside edges. Then she ditched the kerchiefs back down the chimney.
Her lips pulled down into a sharp frown as Delia realized moonlight reflected wonderfully off the bright white tiles coating the roof. Her black outfit had been intended to help her blend in, not make her stand out like she was waltzing across Antarctica. Well, she certainly wasn't going back down for a change of clothes. And on the other hand, the building was much, much smaller than she'd expected. Delia now knew she'd been stuck in one half of a private villa. Instead of sneaking across some huge hotel, all she had to do was slink over to the other side, wait for Private Guard to come around to this one, and get off the single-story roof to terra firma. She'd blend in well once she reached the jungle's shadows. Gingerly, she stepped onto the roof tiles.
The clay terra cotta tiles crackled loudly against each other under her weight.
Just as the side door directly kitty-corner to her opened. The female guard stepping through looked up instantly at the sharp sound. For a second both women froze as their brains registered what they were seeing.
But only for a second. Even as the guard reached for her belt and yelled, "Go, Ariados!", Delia was off and running across the rooftop. Behind her, the thrown Pokéball landed on the roof and released its charge before rolling right back off. Ahead of her, Delia saw the building turn ninety degrees. She pelted toward the gap between her side and that one, throwing herself into a flying leap across in hopes of slowing her Pokémon pursuer down.
She didn't. It was an easier leap for the poison spider Pokémon to make than for her. Ariados nearly landed on Delia, brushing her legs with its own. She yelped at the creepy contact and turned, running in the opposite direction. Ariados paused at a distant cry of, "Spider Web, now!" Responding quickly, Ariados shot a thick stream of silk from the spinnerets beneath its jaws, aiming between the rooftop and the next chimney's flue.
Right in Delia's headlong path. She ran smack into the spider's web even as it formed. The large Pokémon quickly followed its projectile, scuttling up, over and around Delia, more silk flowing from the spinnerets on Ariados' rear to trap her securely. Delia struggled and even tried to smack Ariados away; but the skilled spider deftly avoided the human's attack even as she finished spinning her web.
Caught and trussed like a Beautifly, Delia could only gasp for breath and inwardly curse her luck as Ariados' owner was joined by another female in peering up at her from the manicured lawn. Both were perhaps a decade junior to Delia in age. She recognized the rank of General in Lawrence's Army from the unique cut of the uniforms adorning their sleek, athletic curves. Yet she didn't recognize the women themselves. It had been a different girl and her guy partner who'd last had those suits when she was captured. This blonde was evidently a big Star Wars fan, as her hair was done up in absolutely gigantic Princess Leia/ox horn buns. The silver-haired minx next to her preferred a short, sharp-edged, modern style.
Convinced the trouble was over, Fake Leia called casually to her Pokémon. "Good girl, Ariados. You've caught a real prize this time. Get her down here; gently, please." Ariados chirped back an affirmative in a high-pitched, cuddly voice at odds with her menacing arachnid looks. Within seconds Ariados had secreted enough silk solvent to pry Delia free of the roof. Delia's arms were still bound, but not her legs, which allowed Delia to stand on her own as Ariados lowered her gently off the rooftop.
Ms. Silver Hair turned on her flashlight to study Delia closely through Ariados' bindings. Shortly she remarked to Fake Leia, "Unharmed, but not exactly presentable. Back to her suite for a quick shower. And we'll have to stand outside her door."
"Yes, she did ruin that outfit," Fake Leia agreed as she turned to address Delia. Continuing her lazily casual tone, the blonde added, "It was just your bad luck that we came to invite you to dinner tonight. Nice trick with the pillows. Too bad those roof tiles are so noisy, huh?"
Not feeling in the mood to offer a polite response, Delia opted for saying nothing. Instead she considered pushing past the girls to make a run for it anyway. Sensing Delia's sudden tension, Silver Hair called out her Espeon to join Fake Leia's Ariados at encircling her. Delia could only shrug as the younger women marched her back to her prison. Silver Hair made a stay-put motion with her arm to Private Guard in the background. "I'll deal with you shortly," she promised him, making the grown man's knees shake.
Once back inside the bedroom, Silver Hair smirked as she pointed toward the closet. "Pick out something nice that won't show your age too much, Grandma," she commanded Delia, "You'll be dining with Mr. Talbot himself."
"Grandma, huh?" Delia took a couple of firm steps over to face her. She was pleased that the younger woman had to tip her head back slightly to meet her gaze directly. Delia snapped, "Put away that Espeon, little girl, and we'll see who gets a spanking."
Silver Hair's eyebrows arched, but Espeon stayed put.
The blonde admonished, "Show some respect, Oakley. Underestimate her and she'll give us the slip just like the others. Even you wouldn't get off the hook for that one." Oakley shrugged and pursed her lips, but she backed up one step anyway. Past Oakley's arm, pointing firmly at the closet again, Delia could see Fake Leia peering up the chimney. The blonde's voice lost some of her nonchalance in place of a note of newfound respect when she continued, "Wow, you really went up this thing. Very impressive."
Oakley snorted, "Nothing we couldn't do, Annie."
Delia glared as she moved to the closet. Raising her bound arms, she reminded, "What about this?" Annie dismissed the trouble with a lazy wave of her own arm, assuring Delia, "The web's water-soluble." Delia had enough movement at her elbows to pick out a loose, long-sleeved purple blouse and matching floor-length skirt. The sleeves would hide the many bruises and scrapes now coating her arms from climbing the chimney. And maybe let her slip something up them during dinner for another escape attempt later.
A short shower later and Delia had to admit she felt better. She eschewed makeup and a formal hairdo for just retying the short bun. Maybe, if her luck changed, she could let her long hair down as part of a disguise during an escape. The constant thoughts of earning freedom cheered Delia up greatly as Annie and Oakley led her out of her prison.
In the distance, the warm lights of the hotel's main building gleamed through the jungle. Fully-lit, stone-paved paths wound tastefully through the jungle all around her. Their charm was spoiled by the many Pokémon-armed guards patrolling each and every path, although none of them had Lawrence's Army uniforms on. They seemed to be regular hotel staff to her.
Oakley leaned close to her ear, whispering, "They don't speak Japanese any more than you speak Spanish. But they'll understand me; talk to them anyway and I'll tell them you're not in the witness protection program. We just discovered you're really the Shining Path terrorist they've been looking for. Know the meaning of the term 'firing squad'?"
Without her passport or any other way to prove her real identity, Delia had no choice but to take Oakley at face value. Despite Oakley's threat, Lawrence's Army didn't take any chances. Espeon and Ariados stayed out to help the women guard the fuming Delia all the way to the main building's back entrance. The hotel guards merely nodded politely to the women as they passed.
Once inside, the Pokémon were recalled and Delia was quickly ushered into a large, private dining hall. A sumptuous meal was already set before the gentle candlelight filling the elegant room. Only four places were set, however, at the far end of the long, rectangular table. The sole occupant of the room awaited his guests there. Oakley and Annie prodded her that way, exchanging nods with the Army guards who closed the doors and shut themselves outside.
As the three women approached, their host rose to meet them. He had to prop himself up on the table with both hands to do so, but he managed. "Mrs. Ketchum," he greeted warmly, "A pleasure to see you again. It's been far too long. I apologize that my business dealings consume so much of my time; otherwise I would've greatly enjoyed keeping you company at my villa."
The voice, soft and smooth as silk, was strong. The painfully thin frame, long and tall like a scarecrow, was not. Bone-white hair still clung in a tenacious ring around his balding dome; a trio of backwards-pointing spikes lay at both temples. Blue eyes too young and strong for the skeletal face and pencil-thin eyebrows surrounding them studied her intently as Delia approached.
In a genteel fashion, Sir Lawrence Talbot the 3rd gestured to the seat at his left hand. As Delia moved to take it, he moved to pick up her hand and kiss it. She yanked her limb free before his lips made contact.
Wheezing slightly from the effort, Lawrence III let the snub slide. His next movements indicated his desire to pull out Delia's chair for her. Oakley, with surprising tenderness, moved quickly to intercept him. "Allow me," she said, then threw in a soft kiss to Lawerence III's dry, sunken cheek. Smiling quietly, Lawrence III retook his own seat as Oakley deigned to assist Delia in sitting. At Lawrence III's gesture, Oakley took the seat at his right hand afterwards, opposite to Delia. Annie settled into the seat next to Delia, watching her prisoner closely beneath her casual facade.
Nodding slightly at Annie, Lawrence III addressed Delia, "Forgive the rather close accompaniment; I'd have preferred a more informal dining experience. But I understand you've made a fair spot of trouble for my employees here. So you'll understand if I require their presence, hmm?"
Delia glared at him from under her brown bangs, saying nothing.
Lawrence III scoffed lightly, stuffing his napkin into his suit's collar as he did so, "Such venom. I'm surprised at you, Mrs. Ketchum. Have I not treated you well? Not many people of your acquaintance can afford a simple room in the luxurious Inkaterra Hotel, much less a private villa. Far fewer, ah, indentured guests enjoy such comfort. Not to mention this private dining experience. There's no reason not to be civilized about this."
With quiet anger, Delia responded, "There's every reason. You've trapped me as bait for my son. You've made no bones about your hatred of him in the past. I don't know what your plan is, but you can't imagine what I'll do to you before I let you harm a hair on his head."
For a second Lawrence III's eyes widened with shock at her calm ferocity. He tried to play it off by casually inclining his head toward Oakley, adding candidly, "My, my, we seem to have pushed somebody's buttons." Oakley sneered at Delia, plainly wishing the older woman would make a physical move and give her the excuse right here. Annie watched the drama with outward calm but her tense muscles were ready for anything that might happen.
Regaining his composure, Lawrence III reached for the main course. Oakley beat him to it again, cutting the Tepig ham and serving onto Lawrence III's plate, while her partner kept watch over Delia. Nodding thanks to his lover, Lawrence III addressed Delia once more. "Hatred, you say, Mrs. Ketchum. For your son. Yes, that would be the correct word, I must confess. Perhaps you'll understand if you knew the background of it, hmm? Has your boy never thrilled you with the tale?"
Delia snapped back, "Are you so self-involved that you really think I would care?"
Lawrence III sighed heavily as he turned to stare into the candelabra adorning the table. "I had so hoped to make your last days pleasant, Mrs. Ketchum. I came so close too. Just twenty-four hours to go; precisely. The least you could do in return was enjoy this pleasant dinner."
A bolt of fear pierced Delia's anger at his words. She trembled slightly, still staring at Lawrence III as he continued absently, "Ah, well. Perhaps you should hope that your boy does not appear on time, madam. That will provide you with a stay of execution. Then again, getting the deed done may ultimately be preferable to languishing under an indefinite sentence."
Her hands were trembling anew; but with the sure knowledge she had nothing to lose replacing her earlier fear. "You coward," Delia spat as she angrily shoved her plate away with one hand-and slipped the knife, backwards, up her sleeve with the other. Oakley started to her feet at Delia's violence, but Lawrence III's grip just as quickly stopped her. Oakley was stuck half-standing, glaring. Annie stiffened visibly into battle-readiness.
Delia had eyes only for Lawrence III, who still stared into the candlelight despite her and Oakley's movements. Without need to fake another outburst to cover palming the knife, Delia's anger cooled into a glacial calm cold enough to burn as she said, "You can't even meet my eyes. You won't dare face my son alone anymore than you'll execute me with your own hands. That's why you hide behind your army, brave Sir Talbot. But my son is a real man. You'll get what you've bargained for; I know you won't be able to handle it. I just hope I'm there to see it."
Lawrence III let go of Oakley to rest his chin on his interlocked fingers before him. The only visible evidence of his own building rage was the white-knuckled grip of each hand against the other. In a very low, very deadly voice, Lawrence III wondered, "Coward? Coward, you say, Mrs. Ketchum?"
The confrontation was suddenly broken by a loud electronic beeping coming from Lawrence III's jacket pocket. Simultaneously he lost himself to a wretched, hacking cough; Oakley finally found her feet at last. "Get her away from me, Sis. Now," Oakley barked. As Annie firmly pulled Delia out of her chair and away, Oakley shut off the medical alarm. Then she retrieved an oxygen tank and mask cleverly hidden nearby for just such an occasion.
Annie stopped only briefly at the door, touching Delia lightly on the elbow. Smiling sweetly, she asked, "The knife, please." Her warmth was met only with a disappointed snort as Delia forked over the silverware, handle-first. Then both women left Oakley to her patient.
Oakley turned an admonishing glare on her lover as she checked his pulse. "You know better than to get so worked up," she reminded forcefully, "Don't forget that Ketchum isn't your true focus. Without you, the main project will fall apart. Are you going to let this low-born family send your fortune up in smoke again?" She prepared an injection to help calm Lawrence III's racing heart next.
Leaning heavily into his seat, Lawrence III found the strength to pat her arm and smile reassuringly behind his oxygen mask. "Never fear, my love," he rasped slowly, "Our reward will come, I swear it." The beautiful woman favored him with a truly dazzling smile at the thought of all that money and power coming their way. Soon.
As evening drew dusky wings over Viridian City's Columbo International Airport, the huge transport plane Fallen Angel taxied down the runway in preparation for takeoff. Within the vehicle's guts, Misty used her broken English to politely refuse a crew member's offer to let her sit at the tiny passenger compartment's window. This would be her first flight since developing her full-fledged teleport sickness. She already knew, to her great relief, that the variant of motion sickness was not triggered by being on a boat; even in rough waters. Despite that and her new anti-sickness prescription, Misty wasn't taking any chances. The American quickly got the problem when she showed him the bottle, pointing to one of his own mates popping his identical pills.
Ash sat next to her despite clearly longing to see out the window. It was hard to say who was fidgeting more; the young trainer or Pikachu (in accordance with airline takeoff/landing regulations) in his Pokéball at Ash's waist. Misty could feel Togetic squirming in his Pokéball against her side too.
Rudy, looking calm and composed, was across the aisle directly beside her. His command of English seemed excellent to her; Rudy was winning over those around him with a warm, friendly conversation and winning smile. His glances at her were polite, but she couldn't help noticing that Rudy avoided Ash's gaze whenever Rudy checked on Giovanni in the row ahead of them. But then again Ash was also desperate to avoid locking eyes with Rudy too as his own curious gaze studied the workhorse plane's visible ribs, cables, and other guts.
Add in Giovanni and Misty's group filled up what few spare seats the transport plane had to offer. Giovanni also seemed to possess a fine grasp of the Americans' tongue but his clipped responses in it made them leave him to his stony silence. That fact didn't surprise Misty. Ever since Giovanni had clarified the boys' relationship to each other, all of the men had lapsed into painfully polite language during the quick planning session for smuggling themselves out of the country.
Despite her language barrier, Misty had little trouble identifying the pilot's PA announcement for an impending takeoff. Soon everyone felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and velocity as the plane threw itself bodily into thin air. Not long thereafter, the pilot let them know it was safe to unstrap and amuse themselves. Misty was greatly pleased to feel not a pinch of motion sickness at all of this.
As the crew unstrapped and began going about their business, Giovanni brushed past them and into the central aisle. Rudy was there to meet him. To Misty's surprise, Giovanni broke the ice first with a quiet request in Japanese, "We need someplace to talk." Rudy nodded his assent as Ash and Misty joined them. Just then the forward compartment's door slid open and the plane's owner stepped through.
Rachael "Rocket" Racer strode over to her guests with a warm smile lighting her angular face. The beautiful young speed demon might've been decked out in her dress clothes, but the breezy blouse and skirt combo didn't disguise her wiry strength or strong, confident movements. Behind her trailed her handsome boyfriend (and chief mechanic) Don Socket. Since he hadn't been needed for a interview before takeoff, Don was dressed comfortably in his well-worn mechanic's overalls and green sweater.
Pulling near, Rocket's smile dimmed slightly at the sight of Giovanni looming over her. "Now I recognize you. Giovanni Columbo! Fancy taking off from your own namesake airport just now," she observed in Japanese, "Or was it named after your mother?"
Resisting the urge to sigh, Giovanni remarked, "It was named after her."
"I'm not surprised," Rocket returned, "She was a very honorable trainer." Her polite smile suddenly contained a razor's blade matching the sharpness of her gaze, fixed to Giovanni's countenance for his response. Without matching her subtle malice, Giovanni replied with a thin smile, "Everyone makes mistakes, Ms. Racer. I wasn't the only Gym Leader hornswoggled by Team Rocket."
"Twice?" she snorted ever so slightly.
Now a touch of black humor did creep into Giovanni's tone when he replied, "Ironic that you're so interested in the goings-on of Team Rocket, Ms. Racer, considering your infamous nickname."
Misty realized that neither Ash nor Rudy had any intentions of getting their father off the hook. She stepped into the breach to defuse the situation herself. Offering her hand, she added, "Thanks again for letting us hitch a ride on such short notice, Ms. Racer. We can't tell you how much this means to us." Ash joined in with, "Here, here!" Rudy even threw in, "Rest assured that Interpol seconds Ms. Williams' sentiments. And may I add your Japanese is flawless?"
"It's nothing," Rocket waved away the compliment casually as she shook Misty's hand, "Granpop made me pick up a couple of languages; he had some good times abroad. A few of 'em involved Interpol, too! As for the ride, think nothing of it; I owe the agency a favor or two myself. Of course, the reverse is also true, Agent Silver, and I'll be collecting on those markers sooner or later!" She laughed and Don joined in. Misty had to giggle also, but the best her male companions could come up with were wan smiles.
Don, as eager to avoid confrontation as Misty, laid a hand on his lady's shoulder while suggesting, "Mr. Columbo wouldn't be here if it wasn't important, dear. Let's trust his famous companions to know what they're doing, okay?"
Rocket nodded gamely. Her friendly, generous nature restored, she laughed again as she took Ash's handshake this time. She added, "Famous companions indeed! I've followed the international Pokémon League circuit as long as I can remember; it's an honor to meet two of Japan's best."
Ash replied just as eagerly as she, "Now that's a real compliment, coming from you! I lost count of how many trophies I've seen you win over the years. You always run a great race, Rocket. Uh, I mean, Ms. Racer."
She waved the titles away, "Call me Rocket. Everybody does."
"Then it's Ash," he returned. His love chimed in, "And Misty!"
Rocket wondered, "So what brings a batch of famous trainers aboard my little plane, huh? Couldn't get tickets to the Andes Grand Road Rally? Did you know they're loaning us Peru's first national highway for that? It's gonna be a blast!"
Rudy interjected firmly, "Sorry for the interruption, but we have agency business to discuss." His stern gaze flickered across the cramped launch compartment and Rocket's crew still lingering there, who were trying not to let on how interested they were in the conversation. Even those who didn't speak Japanese. Rudy added in a much softer tone, "Is there somewhere private my team could access our equipment?"
Rocket's arched eyebrows caught Don's answering nod of confirmation. "I threw your stuff into the vehicle bay," he explained, "No time for anything else." Rocket seemed greatly pleased at the thought, clapping her hands to say, "Great! Any excuse to show off my baby! Oh, and Don's pride and joy, too." She led the way deeper into the aircraft, her charges falling in behind and Don bringing up the rear. Misty was surprised anew at how compact the plane's interior was for such a big, bulky aircraft. Giovanni and Don had to duck to keep from banging their heads on every hatchway.
But, she reminded herself, the plane wasn't built for carrying passengers. Instead it was designed around the vehicle storage bay that took up more than half the craft's length. Stepping into the bay, Misty's eyes roved briefly over the compartment. The entire back wall of the bay doubled as the retractable loading ramp. It was also the only wall free of carefully secured maintenance equipment, tools, fuel lines, and the dozens of other things necessary to support the primary purpose of the custom cargo plane.
Said primary purpose was the Mach 8, Rocket's custom racing car. Ash and Misty gasped. The car looked different in person than it did on television. Misty realized it had not been repaired from Rocket's last road rally yet. Although the Mach 8 had received a quick rinse, its gleaming white finish was still marred by stripes of ground-in dirt all around its wheel wells. Not to mention scratches, scrapes, and even traded paint from the roughhousing of the race disrupting its red racing stripes and circular '8' symbol.
Nevertheless, even strapped securely into the hold, the Mach 8's trim yet distinctly hourglass shape looked ready to roar off the starting line and blaze into the winner's circle with the slightest brush on its gas pedal. Misty thought she knew where Don had gotten the inspiration for the Mach 8's lines when the equally curvy Rocket moved next to her machine.
Rocket laid a hand on her mechanical friend and whispered, "Ain't she a beauty?" Ash was almost too stunned to agree. Misty oohed and aahed; even Giovanni looked mildly impressed.
Rudy only had eyes for a pile of luggage dumped on the floor. "Thank you for bringing our equipment aboard," his business-like tone let them know, "This will be perfect. Please close the door on your way out."
Rocket's ire immediately returned. "You say that like I haven't helped Interpol. Like I can't be trusted. And look who you're traveling with," her meaningful gaze fell on the still-silent Giovanni.
"No slight meant to you, Ms. Racer," Rudy interjected smoothly, "Inspector Detector swears by your fidelity. I owe him my life; I believe him. Please believe me when I say we've imposed enough by getting this ride from you. Once we touch down in Lima, we won't have to bother you again."
Rocket folded her arms in a stubborn move that reminded Misty strongly of Ash. She added, "I've heard that from the agency before. I always seem to get dragged in anyway; if I know what's going on I can help that much more."
"Ms. Racer, I've seen Detector's files. I apologize for how often your family racing business has been interrupted by my agency's work and thank you deeply, again, for your aid," Rudy explained, "You feel strongly about your family's business. So do I." A little wave of his hand indicated first Giovanni, then Ash with Misty, and finally himself. "Family business can be very touchy," Rudy reiterated carefully.
Rocket's slight widening of her eyes revealed she'd gotten the hint. She shared a communicating glance with Don. He inclined his head slightly in deference to her. Finally Rocket nodded; just once. "Yeah, I know that song," she admitted, "I'll be back in six minutes; my crew will need to start repairing the Mach 8. Make sure you've got it all ironed out by then." To the mutual thanks of Misty, Ash, and Rudy, the Americans left them sealed in the bay.
The Interpol agent, still trying to avoid his newfound brother's eyes, moved quickly to the trunks. A small smile graced his features at the first couple of things he pulled from within. "Your translators; already set for Spanish, Mr. Ketchum, Ms. Williams," he said, proffering one each to Ash and Misty. Ash, distracted by releasing Pikachu to stretch his legs for a minute, finally caught Rudy's gaze for the first time since boarding the plane. The contact reduced both men to a moment's frozen immobility.
With Togetic now released also, Misty took her translator and prepared to prod Ash into action. Before she could, Ash took a deep breath and began anyway. "What's the next step, Rudy?" he wondered as he took his translator, "We land in Lima, then what?"
Rudy started back to the here-and-now also. Slowly, he replied, "I think…I think I might prefer Agent Silver after all."
Firmly, Ash returned, "If Mom's life is on the line, I can't waste time in the middle of a Pokémon battle yelling for 'Agent Silver'. Like it or not, we're…we're family. We can at least call each other by name. Including you, Giovanni." Misty's chest swelled with pride at her man's mature, thoughtful actions, especially since she knew calling your father by his name had to feel weird anyway. But 'Father' or 'Dad' was just too close. For now.
She was surprised at the little half-grin on Rudy's face that appeared for a second. He admitted, "The agency's been my only family for a very long time now." Sobering, the agent spared a long, hard look at Giovanni. Giovanni returned it, his expression steadily inscrutable. Giving up, Rudy sighed heavily, "You're right…Ash. Let's get down to business. The trunks I brought aboard have some disguises for us. We'll look just like part of Rachael Racer's pit crew when we land in Lima. That's the only international airport in all of Peru; hopefully the disguise will slip us past any Lawrence's Army spies watching for you two."
Misty asked with sudden suspicion, "Hopefully?"
Rudy could only spread his hands in resignation. "There are few guarantees in this business, Misty. You rely on the intel you've got to make a plan and hope for the best. Much like a Pokémon match. The only guarantee I've got right now is that Lawrence III has laid a trap and he's expecting both of you to take the bait. He'll be watching at Lima, certainly."
Misty snorted and Ash shot her a glance; reminding her silently they had already checked Rudy's references before they'd left. She had agreed, however reluctantly, to follow Ash's lead and trust him. She was pleased, however, when Ash pointed out, "I've been wondering where this tip came from, anyway. How reliable is this, uh, intel?"
Finally Rudy smiled. "I may not have guarantees, but I've got quite a few advantages in this case. First, the tip came from a undercover agent inside Lawrence's Army. It led us to the Army operative in Japan who was supposed to give you a clue that would send you to Lake Titicaca. Second, a independent investigation after another objective immediately, albeit accidentally, confirmed that Mrs. Ketchum is not at that lake. We can skip right to Machu Picchu."
"Machu Picchu?" Misty repeated, "I've heard that name somewhere before…" Ash nodded agreement with her, but said, "Okay, but why there? Did you get it out of the goon Lawrence III tried to send after all?"
Their conversation actually cost their notice of a few seconds' break in Giovanni's control. Pikachu did notice, however, when Giovanni's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. "Machu Picchu," he whispered to himself so softly that only Pikachu could even hear it, "What a coincidence…"
Pikachu promptly began tugging on Ash's pant leg from his spot at his trainer's feet. Ash brushed Pikachu's arms away, eyes fixed on Rudy's face so he wouldn't miss anything as Rudy explained, "I'm not surprised you've heard of it; it's a famous Incan religious site. No, the Japan agent only had the false clue to Lake Titicaca. But getting off the path Lawrence III wants us on is also our advantage. So why Machu Picchu? Still another investigation trying to follow the paper trail financing Lawrence's Army did expose a front company of his. Tracing that back shows that Lawrence III's been putting some money into the Machu Picchu ruins for a couple of months now."
Ash broke in with, "Have you checked any volcanoes around there? The Hurricane-Maker set up on Sternbreak Island was right inside the volcano itself."
Rudy quickly reassured, "The Lake Titicaca team now has two tasks: They've already accomplished the first, which is pretending to be you following the false trail Lawrence III has set up. This should keep Lawrence III from moving Mrs. Ketchum long enough for us to find her."
Misty cut in, "You hope."
"We all hope," Rudy reminded her archly, "Second, they're investigating the local volcanoes, which are also the closest to Machu Picchu, just in case the recent data from them has been forged. But that's not likely for once. Peru is very active volcanically; many international studies constantly watch the sites. Even when they're erupting. Not even Lawrence III's bankbook could bribe that many people easily."
Feeling much better about the whole thing despite herself, Misty nodded and had to admit, "It does sound like Machu Picchu is the place to start. Any other ace in the hole we've got going for us?"
Rudy jabbed a thumb against his chest. "Me. And Giovanni. Lawrence III is not expecting or watching for us at all. Once we make it through customs at Lima, all of us will change disguises and catch a flight to Cuzco City. The train from there to Machu Picchu is the only non-foot land route to the ruins and its surrounding tourist village. Not even that new highway Ms. Racer mentioned connects there; just to Cuzco."
Ash wanted to know, "What's our new cover going to be?" Misty could feel her love's body tense with excitement next to her; he was getting into all this spy stuff. Not to mention finally getting closer to saving his mother.
Their nominal leader gave that quick little half-grin again. "Believe it or not, I'd decided on a father taking his three children on vacation before I'd arrived at your house." Ash and Misty couldn't help but add their own ironic grins to his at that. Giovanni was apparently unimpressed at this revelation. Ash admitted, "It does sound like a good bet. Instead of Misty and me as a couple, we might be camouflaged in the larger group."
"Exactly," Rudy continued, "If you both knew the local language, I'd prefer we all split up at Machu Picchu, but there you have it. So once we're at the village, you three stay low the first day. I'll make some local contacts, see what intel I can dig up, and we'll go from there."
Giovanni finally joined the discussion mildly, "Machu Picchu Village is not very large at all. I can easily establish a few contacts as well; we will find out what we need to know quickly once we arrive."
Rudy's good demeanor vanished in a challenging pose. "Don't ruin my efforts; we can't afford to work at cross purposes. I'll do the fieldwork; you stay out of sight. Remember you're just here for your muscle."
Giovanni shook his head slowly, "We can't afford to waste any time or resources."
The Interpol agent started to reply, but was cut off by Ash. Gritting his teeth, Ash nonetheless insisted, "Giovanni's right, Rudy. Remember we're trying to save my mom." Rudy relaxed visibly, admitting, "Yes. Yes, I can't blame you for that."
Ash continued, turning to his father, "Which reminds me of something else. My victory conditions for the Blackthorn City Gym Match. That I earned fair and square, I might add." Misty and Rudy joined in casting equally curious glances back and forth between their companions' faces at this.
Giovanni almost rolled his eyes, "You really want to do this now?"
A great surprise; Ash wasn't getting angry. He finally got it through his own thick head that strong-arming Giovanni was no use. He was trying a mellow approach. Calmly, earnestly, Ash stated, "Yes, if it means you don't get another chance to wheedle away from me. Keep a lid on most of it until Mom's safe, fine. All I want is this: Please, tell me why you could leave a woman-your wife-that you still care that much for, all these years later. I've got to know; the rest of my family deserves to know." The gentle nod of his head took in Misty, Pikachu, Togetic…and even Rudy. The Interpol agent's face went blank with surprise. Ash nodded to him, "Especially you, Rudy. Did he abandon you and your mother too?"
Rudy and Giovanni alike stopped cold; eerily similar masks of stone adorning their faces. Giovanni looked to the side, away from Ash's gaze, for a few seconds. Coming to a decision quickly, Giovanni then looked back squarely as he said, "The four of us need to get along for the sake of our mission. In that spirit, consider this a freebie: No; Rudy's mother and I separated by mutual agreement. In addition, I did not even meet the lady until nearly two years after I left Pallet Town. And yes, that makes you the older sibling by three years."
Muscles Ash had not realized were tensed to the snapping point relaxed all across his body. Rudy deflated visibly as well; unlike their father he still avoided Ash's eyes. Also unlike their father, a slight blush of angry embarrassment colored his cheeks over all this public fuss over such a private matter. As if everyone present wasn't family, Misty mused, noting herself as more than close enough.
Giovanni's sharp gaze didn't miss the release of all that pressure. He cocked an eyebrow in a resurgance of his dark brand of humor, continuing drolly, "We live in Japan, not China. There is no law restricting anyone to just one child. Besides, I don't see what you're complaining about. Doesn't every Pokémon Trainer live for adventure and intrigue? Would you rather I was just some unseen office wage-slave who never got home from his job in the city? Or an arrested adult embarking too late on his own childhood Trainer journey, as your friend Brock Harrison's father did? Either way, the absentee parent results would've been just the same for both of you…Ash."
The name sounded nearly as strange to their ears from his voice as it must've felt on his tongue. For a brief moment everyone, including the Pokémon, paused to study the weird sound ringing in their ears and wonder if titles wouldn't be better after all. Eventually all present silently rejected the notion. For once, they were of the same mind. As Rudy had said earlier, it was just something they would all have to get used to and it was time to start.
A little bit of Ash's usual hardheadedness showed through as he roused himself, "Thanks for the freebie and all that, but you still haven't answered my original question."
Giovanni, finally out of ways to stall, opened his mouth.
Rocket stepped back into the bay, announcing, "Time's up!"
What little good mood had spread among the troupe vanished instantly. Giovanni could only shrug helplessly at the unfortunate interruption guaranteeing there'd be no time to spin his yarn. Suspicion that Giovanni's attitude was a little false made Ash throw him a look so hard it should've speared Giovanni to the bulkhead. Any fight was postponed as the entire plane rolled sharply to one side. Rocket's sharp reflexes left her the only human standing next to Pikachu as the pilot's PA blared a command to strap in.
Yet even as the pilot issued her command, the plane righted itself for the moment. Rocket launched herself into the corridor; Giovanni and Rudy mere steps behind. Misty and Ash gave each other a quick check for damage before following, Pikachu and Togetic at their heels.
All aboard had ignored the pilot's request to stay put and were instead crowding the way to the cockpit. Rocket had to push her way through her pit crew. Misty's own crew took advantage of her path-clearing and squeezed into the hatch directly behind Rocket. Misty blinked at the calm, empty sky visible through the windows. Not even a light cloud covering obstructed her view of the Pacific Ocean thousands of feet below.
Rudy whispered a translation of Rocket's discussion with the pilot for their benefit. "It what?" the racer was demanding. The pilot pointed at the radar screen as she answered, "You can see it on the recording, boss! It came straight down from the stratosphere and buzzed us at mach five!"
"A meteor," Rocket said.
The pilot shook her head. "Meteors don't stop falling and keep pace directly under our fuselage for a minute. Or go back above our operational radar limit afterwards."
Rocket stopped letting her jaw hang open to ask the pilot, "Did you see it at all?"
The other woman could only shake her head sadly. "I only saw it on the radar; we were reacting purely on instruments."
Don quickly stepped into his area of expertise. "Are you sure the radar's functional?"
It was the copilot who answered, "Yes, sir, just confirmed the object's flight path with the commercial flight proceeding us to Lima. The object reentered their radar range from their aft vector, slowed and took a look at them also, then left on a heading of…there!"
All eyes turned to a distant, and disappointing, speck of bright green light far in the distance. The only thing that kept Misty from chalking it up as another star in the sky was its sweeping movement. The loops, the rolls, the twists all leading into one another even as the object disappeared into the distance… Misty glanced at Togetic on her shoulder. The movement reminded her strongly of her little friend's energetic, happy midair whirls for the sheer fun of flight.
The pilot was not so entranced. "I hate UFOs," she growled, "They think they're so funny."
The crowd dispersed. Giovanni doggedly kept to the public areas despite his continuing short responses to the crew; Rudy and Rocket keeping a perpetual eye on him and each other. Without another shot at a private conversation with him, the triangle of tension made it a very, very long twenty hours of flight to Lima for Ash and Misty.
Text, original characters, and events Copyright © 2011 Keith E. Kimball. This is a fan work and not for profit.
All other characters, events, and trademarks Copyright © their respective holders including but not limited to Nintendo Company Ltd., Tatsunoko Productions, GameFreak, The Pokémon Company, Shogakukan Production Inc., 4Kids Entertainment, etc.