A Reminiscence

Chapter 16

Preparations

()()()

As the valet stood before us, gun in hand, ready to shoot at any moment, I admit I was very nearly about to faint, but still refused to back down in the face of such threat.

"What is the meaning of this, then?" I asked, trying to keep my fear from coming through my voice.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you," the valet said, in a statement I desperately hoped was true, "but you're getting in over your heads. This is way bigger than you, so just give up now and stay right there, and you won't get hurt." He began stepping backwards towards the door, keeping his gun aimed at us.

"And what if I do not want to stay here?" I asked, no, demanded. "What if I would prefer to figure out exactly what is going on around here and why somebody in the government wants to spy on us?"

The valet chuckled. "Oh, don't even kid about that, bucko. You don't stand a chance against what we're doing here."

I grimaced. "I must say, you are the absolute worst valet I have ever had."

"How many have you had, then, old man?"

"Enough to know that you are an embarrassment to the craft!" I cried. The valet flinched, but did not fire, instead taking another step back.

"Don't try anything funny or I blow all your brains out!" he yelled.

"Funny?" Slick asked. I turned to him, scared of whatever it was he was planning. "You mean like…THIS?!" He snapped his fingers, producing a blinding flash of light. I turned away in time for it to not affect me, but the valet was not so lucky, recoiling in pain and shock as his eyes burned. I turned back in time to see that Slick had taken good advantage of the opportunity he created, running forward and twirling his cane like a Bo staff, placing several expert strikes against the valet and sending him straight to the floor.

"Bloody hell!" I cried. "Where on earth did you learn how to do that?"

"You pick it up in my line of business," Slick answered, tucking the cane under his arm with a flourish. "Everybody all right?"

"In a way…" Anne said, shaking her head. "That light kind of hurt. I'll have to remember that for battles…"

"That was AWESOME!" Jon yelled. "Oh, man, the way you—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, buddy," Jack said, pushing past him. Jon sulked, but did not seem particularly upset by it. "Okay, now I'm mad at whoever's running this circus. Nobody tries to kill Jack LeBoure and gets away with it!"

"Worry not, Jack, we will figure out who is doing this and put an end to it." I looked around, and noticed the one person who had yet to add in a contribution: Ralph, who was staring straight ahead, as if he had turned into a statue somehow.

"Ralph?" I asked, stepping up to him. He had no reaction, even as I waved my hand in his face. I then snapped my fingers, which seemed to break him from his trance.

"Sorry about that," he said, shaking off. "Survival technique. You know how it is."

"Quite," I said, eyeing him strangely.

"Say, that might come in handy," he said, pushing me aside and picking up the valet's gun. After a small search, he found a few more magazines of ammunition as well, a worthy find. "Okay, this is good…"

"That makes me think," I began. "Jon will probably be in danger. Simply keeping hidden might not be enough, we will need to protect him somehow."

"Oh, cool! Can I have the gun?" Jon asked.

"That strikes me a as remarkably terrible idea," I said. "Besides, guns are loud and will get you noticed. You will need a silent weapon, like a blade of some sort."

"Ooh! I can be a ninja! This is awesome!" Jon began doing a series of complex flips and kicks, as Slick stared in bemusement.

"Well, he certainly seems excited for it," he said, seeming excited himself. "Now, where to get a bladed weapon…the kitchen! Of course!"

"Slick, I hardly think the kitchen staff is about to let us just borrow one of their knives so we can turn a Furret into some ninja stereotype. They would think us mad."

"But what fun is there in being normal?" Slick asked. "You do have a point, though, they won't just give us the knife. We'll need to distract them and steal one somehow…"

I suddenly recalled a recent individual who would be very helpful indeed. "Slick, how would you feel about turning us into a camera crew?"

"Camera crew? How would that…oh, I get it!" In an instant, his face lit up, realizing what I wanted to do. "One Clive Warren camera crew, coming right up!" He closed his eyes again and performed his illusion once more, although he did leave Jon out of it.

"Congratulations!" he said when he was finished. "You are now a complete camera crew for whatever show Clive is doing right now!"

"But we don't have a camera," Anne noted.

"Oh, right." Slick waved his hands about, and in a few moments, everybody was gifted with an illusory television camera. Anne looked hers over, impressed by how convincing it was, despite weighing nothing at all.

"Excellent!" I said, before realizing something. "Wait…they have cameras…Slick, did you turn me into Clive Warren?"

"I might have…" he said, faking innocence.

"Well, I am flattered, but I hardly think that is an appropriate choice for me. Of course, I could probably do a convincing imitation…"

"No need!" Slick said. "I can also change your voice to be more convincing, too!"

"Now, wait a moment—" My voice trailed off as it became much higher pitched, as if I had just inhaled a vast amount of helium. "Slick, what the hell have you done?"

"Oh, crap, sorry, I did that wrong…" Slick waved his arms around, desperately attempting to rectify the error. "Did that work?"

"I don't know, you tell me." I pause as I realized my voice had now changed into that of Anne. "Slick, you idiot, stop this tomfoolery at once!"

"No, no, keep it up!" Jack insisted. "This is fantastic!"

"You do all realize that Ralph left, right?" Anne asked. I looked behind and saw that Ralph had indeed returned to his room, likely out of annoyance with the recent antics.

"Capital job, Slick," I commended, clapping my hands. My voice was finally back to normal, and I fully intended to keep it that way. "We are now back to where we were, and my voice is yet unchanged."

"Look, I can figure this out, just let me—"

"NO!" I interrupted. "I will handle it myself. I do not trust you to do anything further."

Slick pouted and looked away from me. "Oh, fine," he muttered. "Dick."

"Very mature. Now, then, how is my impersonation of Clive Warren?" I cleared my throat and readied myself, hoping I could manage such a task. "Say, have you seen my latest hit movie?" I said, knowing already I had somewhat failed.

"Well, if Clive Warren had a cold and got punched in the face, that might be accurate," Jack noted.

"Then I suppose that will have to do for a cover story." I sighed and turned back around. "Come on, let us go to the kitchen. Jon, you stay here."

We all took a good look at each other, quite uncomfortably, and then slowly filed out, leaving Ralph and Jon on their own.

()()()

As expected, the kitchen, which was just on the edge of the lobby's main restaurant(which, luckily for us, currently had no customers) was large and quite stately, with numerous stations, as well as a great number of chefs manning them. That was all I could glean from outside the main doors, especially with all of us crammed together and trying to look inside.

"So, now what?" Slick asked, trying to push past Jack's head.

"We go inside," I said. "At that point, Anne, Jack, and I will call the head chef out, which should distract everybody enough for us to start grabbing weapons. Try not to grab anything ridiculous."

"Sounds good," Jack said. "Let's do it!"

I pushed open the doors, Jon and Slick ducked away, and the remaining three entered, trying to look as imposing as possible.

"Where is the head chef?!" I announced, as Anne and Jack took positions beside me.

"Eh?" a distinctly French voice called, its rather overweight, sweaty owner pushing past a few of the chefs and coming up to us. "What is ze meaning of zis?"

"I am Clive Warren," I said, "and I'm hear to clean this hotel up, starting with the kitchen!"

"Clean it up?!" the chef cried in indignation. "Absurd! This is the finest hotel in ze world, and I run a very efficient operation! You are wasting your time here!"

"The only time being wasted is the time of the customers!" I cried. "Show me around the kitchen, I want to know how you're running this operation!"

The chef grimaced, but acquiesced, convinced that he had me. "Very well, please come this way," he gestured over to the other end, which was quite excellent for our plan. We all walked over, where he began his explanation at a man who was stirring a pot of something.

"Rochester here is the one who prepares the soups," he said, gesturing to what was obviously Rochester, who looked rather angry that his work was being interrupted. "What are you preparing now, Rochester?"

"A truffle soup with shallots and sea salt in a reduction of vinegar," he explained, sounding as if he wanted to pour it down our trousers. "Please go away."

"Let me taste that," I said, getting up next to him and grabbing a spoon to take a sample. At first, it did indeed taste quite nice, but then I realized it was still in the process of being cooked and thus scalding hot. I very nearly spit it out, but pushed through and swallowed, trying not to look like I was in horrible pain.

"Excellent work, Rochester," I said. "Perhaps this kitchen is better run than I thought." I coughed and we moved on, but Slick stayed behind to grab something. I paid no mind to this and looked at another man who was slicing vegetables with astonishing finesse.

"Well, well, your staff is in an excellent state!" I commended, genuinely impressed. "You may be an arrogant bastard, but you certainly know how to pick them!"

"I have every right to be arrogant!" the head chef cried, pointing a finger up. "I am in control of the finest kitchen in all of Black City!"

"You certainly seem to be," I said, noticing that Slick was slyly picking out a few more implements, yet unnoticed. "Honestly, I see no major problems here. Just fix your attitude, and we will be in a very good place."

"I should think that I already am!" the head chef said, before his eyes widened as he realized something. "Why was I not informed of your visit, Mr. Warren?"

"Uh…" I stammered, only now realizing the flaw in our ingenious plan. "Well, it was a surprise visit! If you had known beforehand, you could have cheated and I wouldn't have helped at all!"

"My contract with ze hotel clearly states I am to be informed of any and all celebrity guests, and that would include you, impostor!"

"I am no impostor!" I cried unconvincingly. "How dare you accuse me of such a ludicrous thing!"

"I do indeed dare, sir! Now, get out of my kitchen before I get you out myself!"

I grimaced, but realized we had gotten what we came for, and decided to accept a small defeat. "All right, fine, but just you wait, you'll be hearing from my lawyers!" I immediately stormed out, my "camera crew" following me.

When we were back outside, I took a deep breath, and turned to Slick.

"Okay, what did you get?" I asked, somewhat fearing the answer.

"What did I get?" Slick asked. "What didn't I get? I got knives, a wooden spoon, whatever the hell this thing is…" he held up a whisk, "I don't know what this is for, but I'll bet it hurts if you shove it up somebody's eye socket!"

"Give me that!" I said, yanking the whisk from his hand. "I cannot think of a more worthless weapon than this."

"Okay, Patton, how's this tickle your fancy?" He then pulled out a bottle of Tabasco sauce, original recipe, in fact.

"Tabasco?" Jack asked, letting his false camera drop harmlessly to the ground and taking the bottle. "What made you think Tabasco and a whisk would be useful ninja weapons?"

"Well, I was in town about a year ago looking for food, and I noticed one of those big-screen televisions in a window, and it was playing this really kickass show about warriors beating each other up, and they mentioned that ninjas would throw something a lot like Tabasco in people's eyes to distract them, and I thought 'hey, there you go!'"

"What, Warrior Science?" I asked, not bothering to hide my disdain for the show. "Those imbeciles? They would not know proper scientific method if it walked up and stabbed them in the chest!"

Slick rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, yeah, it's not hugely accurate stuff, but still, if you throw this at somebody, it's got to hurt."

"It may well, but ninjas never did anything like on that stupid show, not to mention all the other stuff. A siege weapon in single combat, honestly…"

"Can we please focus?" Anne asked. "I'm kind of starting to question this idea. Are we really going to try to turn a Furret into some kind of cartoon ninja?"

I thought for a moment, and realized that we must have looked quite silly doing this, not to mention what we were doing it for. "This is absolutely ridiculous. What the hell were we thinking?"

"I don't know," Jack said, scratching his head. He stopped the instant he heard a very unpleasant sound: the whirring of powerful helicopter blades, just outside. A few of the people milling about also seemed to notice it, and were very alarmed, to say the least.

"What the hell is that?" Jack asked, running for the restaurant's windows at an astonishing pace. I was barely able to keep up with him as he looked up to see a terrifying sight.

"Why is there a Chinook on the side of the hotel?!" Jack yelled, looking up at the dual-rotor model of such infamy.

"They're really going all-out with this, aren't they?" Slick said.

"We have to get up there, now!" I cried.

"We'll never get up there in time, we have to stop them somehow!" Anne argued.

"Stop them from here?" I asked. "You're mental! We have no chance!"

Unbeknownst to me, Slick had begun doing another one of his clever illusions while the rest of us argued. Just before I wrapped my hand around Jack's neck, I noticed that the helicopter was encased in a cloud of black smoke, and had stopped going up to our room.

"Slick, what did you do?" Anne asked, fascinated.

"I'm making it look like they're somewhere completely different, and it'll take a while to figure it out," Slick explained. "I can try to hold it, but I don't know for how much longer, just go up!"

I nodded and grabbed the weapons he had acquired, then ran for the elevator as fast as I could go, hoping he could hold them off long enough.

()()()

It seemed we had arrived just in time when we finally reached the top floor, as the helicopter was nowhere to be found while Jon and Ralph looked very concerned.

"Okay, seriously, they're pulling out cargo helicopters in civilian areas?" Ralph said. "Why are we at peace with these guys, again?"

"I am starting to ask that very same question," I said, walking to the window and looking down. To my horror, I saw that the illusion had broken and the helicopter was coming up. "Quickly, hide, hide!" Everybody dispersed to their rooms, but Jon stood fast, and I realized he would not let something unpleasant happen if he could help it. I intended to assist him in that endeavor, and so gave him the materials we had collected, which he gladly took and hid behind him.

The helicopter easily came up to us, just outside of the great windows, filling the entire suite with wind. A rope was thrown into it, connecting and allowing the crew passage: Two more secret agents, along with Mr. Zerus, who was very pleased with the recent development.

As the agents closed the window to prevent the wind from bothering us further, Zerus clearly had different plans. "Professor Berkeley Larch!" he said, walking up to me and extending a hand. I refused the gesture, causing Zerus to replace his joyous expression with a scowl. "Come on, Berkeley, show some decorum, huh? You nearly did me in back at city hall, and I'm not about to let you act rude to me."

"You brought a helicopter up to my room, sir!" I cried, pointing at it. "Not to mention your little plan to do…whatever it is!"

"Oh, right!" Zerus said, snapping his fingers. "You think I want to assassinate Greeley and blame you for it!"

"That was the working theory, yes," I said, suspicious. "Wait, how could you have known that? I disabled the bugs!"

"What, those things?" Zerus asked. "Oh, please, those were completely fake. The real ones were stuck in the walls. After all, a listening device isn't much good if it's blatantly obvious where it is."

"All right then, fair enough. But why do you mention my working theory?"

"It'll probably help if I inform you that you're wrong. Like, completely wrong. I don't want Greeley, I've just been using him as a pawn. No, I have bigger fish to fry than that limp-wristed idiot. Shall I explain?"

"I would like if you did, I am completely for a loop."

"Oh, but there's a problem there, you see: I want Slick to be here to. I'm very interested in him, and I nearly died of heartbreak when he disappeared like sand in my fingers after I put so much effort into tracking him. So, where is he?"

The elevator behind us dinged, and out stepped Slick, who looked very upset indeed.

"All right, I want to know what's going on here, and I want to know it now!" he yelled, sounding genuinely angry for once.

"Well, don't worry, now that you're here, I can explain." Zerus cleared his throat and finally began telling us what was going on. "Larch, your invention is frankly…incredible. It's one of the most famous things in the world right now. You and your friends are all over the news with your little…exploits, and I knew it would be the perfect opportunity to initiate what I like to call Operation: Capture the Flag."

"A curious name for such a thing," I said. "Why that?"

"Well, everybody wants one of your translators. Everyone. It's the thing right now, even above the latest smartphone or Pokedex or whatever. So naturally, there's a lot of attention. But there's also a lot of fear. A lot of it. With the borders opened up, people are wondering what's going on, what's going to happen. And when people are afraid for themselves, they stop thinking."

"Get to the point!" Slick yelled.

"Be patient," Zerus said, annoyed. "I was getting there. What's going to happen is, I'm going to kill all of you." I tensed up upon hearing this grim news. "After we do, we're going to announce that you were killed in a military raid when it was discovered you had multiple prototypes containing samples of polonium, and intended to distribute them en masse as the greatest terrorist attack in history."

"A false flag operation, then?" I asked. "This is absolute madness! Nobody will believe you!"

"You'd be surprised at what the Unovans would believe. They're like putty: easily molded to whatever you want, as long as you say it right. And I've carefully molded them to worry about psychotic foreign radicals that would gladly destroy our way of life!"

"You are insane!" I cried. "You are actually insane!"

"Insane, or brilliant?" Zerus asked. "It can be so hard to tell the difference sometimes. Anyway, with this little 'false-flag' as the catalyst, we'll restart the war, as a war on terrorists! And with the diplomatic relations crumbled, along with the military might I've been readying, I'll have absolutely no difficulties in crushing the other countries and taking over the entire world!"

"I do not know how you managed it, but you somehow managed to have an even more absurd plot than Wolfgang did," I said. "This is utterly mental!"

"I agree," Slick said. "This would never work! The other countries would crush you easily!"

"Would they?" Zerus asked, ominously turning to Slick and putting his hands together. "Would they…brother?"

In a single terrifying instant, Zerus' illusion was dispersed, revealing his true form: that of a Zoroark, incredibly similar to Slick.

"W-what?" Slick stammered, shocked by this sudden twist.

"Yes, Slick," Zerus said, stepping closer. "This is what I wanted you to see. I wanted you to see that if you had applied yourself instead of stealing bread from street vendors, you could take over the world!"

"But…but you disappeared ten years ago!" Slick said. "I thought you were dead!"

"No, no, I was alive and very, very well," Zerus explained, returning to his human form. "In fact, when you thought I had moved on from this life, I was already in disguise, coming into political office and gaining huge popularity. Of course, it wouldn't have happened without some…convincing."

"You mean brainwashing," I corrected. "You are absolutely the most unpleasant person I have ever had the misfortune of knowing."

"Well, then, I intend to keep that record," Zerus said, producing a handgun and pointing it at my forehead. "Goodbye, Larch. It's been fun, but… I have places to go."

"You will never get away with this!" I said. "We will stop you!"

"I'd like to see you try when you're six feet under!" Zerus readied his shot, but just as he pulled the trigger, Jon leapt up with incredible speed and pushed the gun away, sending the bullet harmlessly into the wall. As Zerus stumbled, surprised by such a display, Jon produced his Tabasco bottle and threw it at Zerus' face, shattering it and sending the hot mixture everywhere.

"JESUS CHRIST!" he cried, collapsing to the floor and clawing at his face in a desperate attempt to remove it. "IT'S IN MY EYES! HELP ME!"

The secret agents pulled out their weapons, but Jon, in a display even more impressive than the last one, threw the small knives at their hands, striking the guns dead-on and sending them flying off to the side.

"You little shit!" Zerus cried, standing up and removing his hands, revealing his inflamed, bloody-looking face. "I'll rip your fucking head off!" He attempted to leap for Jon, but the Furret merely jumped over him, bounced off the pillar, and headed straight for the agents, taking both of them out in nearly an instant. Zerus, now realizing he was outmatched, ran back to the window and yanked it open, looking back at me with hatred and hot sauce in his eyes.

"I'll get you, Berkeley!" he cried, barely heard over the roar of the helicopter. "You'll pay for this, and your little weasel friend, too!" He turned his head to look straight at Slick, who steeled his expression, refusing to show fear. "You'll see, brother. I'll come out on top!"

"Stop right there!" Ralph yelled, coming out of his room and pointing his gun at Zerus, who started to panic and very nearly fell out the window. However, he managed to grab onto the rope connecting the helicopter and pull himself up to it, an impressive feat considering that his eyes had nearly been incinerated. Ralph, realizing he had little time to dawdle, ran for the window, but unfortunately did not make it in time; Zerus had already gotten away, and would probably be coming back.

"Damn it!" he cried, cursing himself. He pointed his gun at the Chinook, but realized it would do no good; it was already too far away. "He got away."

"You have a brother?" Anne asked, running into the room alongside Jack.

"Yeah," Slick said. "He was always kind of an asshole. Never liked me much. Said I was 'wasting my life' or some crap. I guess now he wants to rule over everybody for some reason."

"And he will do it by killing us!" I cried. "We must stop him!"

"But how?" Anne asked. "He has access to stuff none of us could even imagine! There's no way we can stand up to an army!"

"Couldn't we?" I asked. "You have some very powerful Pokémon, and an excellent wit, not to mention the rest of our skills. Really, I think we are in an excellent position to face them."

Anne tensed. "Look, we're out of our league here. I know that you kicked Wolfgang's ass, but that was just some dork in a lame Halloween costume. These guys are official government agents. You're probably going to get shot."

"Well, they certainly tried, didn't they?" I said, pointing at their unconscious forms. "Fat lot of good it did them, eh?"

"Larch, be serious!" Anne cried.

"I am being serious!" I yelled back. "We clearly have them outmatched! If we work together and use our heads, we can collapse this entire plan and save humanity!"

Anne stared at me, disbelieving. "I...you think so?"

"Who else is in a position to do so but us?" I asked. "If we do not do this ourselves, then nobody else will. It must be us, or else he will still succeed. Besides, we have been in very dangerous situations before, this is not a huge step up."

"It's a pretty far-fetched plan, though," Slick noted.

"Do you really want to take that chance?" I asked. I did not get any answer, but I did not have to; we knew what had to be done.

"Let's go get the Horizon," Ralph suggested. "We might still be able to chase after that helicopter."

"Can we all fit in there?" I asked. "It is not a very large car, after all."

"I'm sure we can make it work," Ralph said. "Come on, we're wasting time."

We wasted no time in going to the hotel's underground parking garage, hoping there would still be time enough for us to get Zerus and stop him once and for all…