Chapter Twelve: Special Agent Lincoln Lethe

The smouldering wreck of the abandoned warehouse lay there like a corpse. City police, fire brigade, local citizens, and all other manner of hang-ons, crowded the scene like so many scavengers. All the while, this colossal necrosis, exhaling a last that was long since spent, refused to move. It couldn't move. It was dead.

Agent Lethe stared, desperately longing for this silent witness to tell them something - asking over and over, What did you see?

Agent Krin came stomping out of the charred cadaver. With ash all over her suit, she coughed and tried to shake herself clean. Placing her torch in her pocket, Krin began to compose herself, before locking eyes with Lethe.

"Don't. Please don't give me that look. Lincoln, everytime you give me that look I end up with a disciplinary."

Agent Lethe turned to the side. "It just doesn't seem right."

Krin placed herself beside them and watched the charred ruin. "Go on. I know you want to. So, just go on."

Making sure their telepathy reached no one but Krin, Agent Lincoln Lethe went on. "A ditto is killed, a bullet conveniently destroys its XP Share unit, local police get a complaint from a port side bank about a young woman - whose description matches Harrison's assistant - loitering outside every night for two weeks, then an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city suddenly burns down, some local citizens reporting they saw a young woman of the same description in the area that day…"

"We staked out the bank the day we heard the complaint - yesterday. She wasn't there. Local citizens also claim they saw a Charizard and a young man in denim."

Special Agent Lincoln Lethe shook their head. "Forensics also found a half torched computer with what appears to be a TM plugged inside. And you and I both know some of those scorch marks didn't come from fire."

Krin placed a heavy, needle covered hand over her face. A tired groan left her cracked, shadowy maw. "You want me to say it, don't you?"

The statuesque bird pivoted. "I want you to say it."

Krin slumped in defeat, her needles wilting. Turning to look at Lincoln with stressed botanical features, she said, "Ghost attacks caused some of those scorches."

"They must have."

Stepping closer and gently placing one cactine hand on their shoulder, Krin appealed. "This is above our paygrade, Lincoln."

The Xatu twitched. "So, you admit it."

"Admit what?"

"You think something bigger is going on?"

Krin wrinkled with frustration. "You're going to get us fired with this one, Lincoln. Or fucking killed."

Lethe pushed forward - a few inches physically, a few inches mentally. "What's our job, Krin?"

"Don't do this."

Concentrating the power of their telepathy, they did not relent. "Special Agent Krin, what is our job?"

Krin hung their rachissian head. "To keep people safe."

Agent Lethe nodded slowly. "To keep people safe." Shifting closer, they whispered without words. "A young woman, with no criminal record, has, within a few weeks, been linked to the death of a Ditto, the surveilling of a financial institution, and an arson where evidence of both Spec Ops involvement and classified government technology has been found." The Xatu moved even closer. "And I wager, if we return and speak to her employer, Mr Harrison-"

"Hank 'The Tank' Harrison," added Krin, trying to bring some levity.

"If we return and speak to Mr Tank, and ask him to contact his assistant, he will be unable to reach her. If we go to her home, she will not be there. If we contact her next of kin, they will not have heard from her. A young woman will prove to be missing, caught up in something far beyond her control."

Krin sighed. "You think her boss forced her into this?"

"Someone forced her into this, whatever this is."

Falling into a fit of agonised frustration, the Cacturne growled. "I told you we should have tailed her. But you wanted to canvas the DTD. You were convinced she had nothing to do with it; she had fired off a few shots and unfortunately hit the XP Share unit. But she couldn't have killed it. Something else was going on, someone else was there; Sapphire was in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the crossfire - no pun intended. That's what you said."

Lethe felt the guilt welling up inside them. "Well… I still believe something else was going on, and that she couldn't have killed it. But in regards to her general involvement… I was wrong."

Special Agent Krin exhaled and nodded; "It's just nice to hear you say it." Brushing off what ash remained, they straightened their suit. "So what do we do about it? I mean we check with her boss, and at her home, and with her next of kin, because there's always a chance you're wrong again, and all this rage you've caused me was for nothing."

Lethe gave out a psychic chuckle. "Yes, of course we check. Dramatic conclusions do not exclude due diligence."

Krin responded with verbal kind. "Your own death would not exclude due diligence."

"Not from-"

"Your own," snapped Krin. "Your own due diligence- it was a joke. Oh just… Let's just go."

They checked in with Hank, swung by Sapphire's place of residence, and contacted her next of kin. No one had heard from her, she wasn't home, and her phone was either switched off or destroyed. Special Agent Lincoln Lethe was right so far.

During this time, the forensics team had sent them a preliminary report. Scanning through it, Lethe didn't find anything that stood out - except for the fact that they had found an abundance of burnt feathers. Meanwhile, as she raged at the traffic, Special Agent Krin was struck by epiphany.

"We probably won't move for another ten minutes, but take the wheel just in case, and tell me to accelerate if we have to." She delved through her pockets and pulled out her notepad. Flicking through it, she murmured to herself. Her nodding began as a cautious and contained jaunt, but soon became a joyous paroxysm. "I said it before, and I just let it lie, but it came up over and over again in witness statements."

"What?" asked Lethe, trying to grip the wheel without crushing it.

"The young man, the human, seen arriving with the Charizard, he was wearing denim."

"So?" Lethe pushed, still uncertain how much psychic force a steering wheel required.

"Why would denim be such a sticking point for everyone?"

"Krin, please just tell me so you can take the wheel back before I accidentally tear the car in half."

Krin laughed, placing her hands on the wheel, letting the same old needles sink into the same old holes. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Thank you." Regaining their composure, Lethe sat back. "Please continue."

"You know who wears denim?"

Special Agent Lincoln Lethe waited for an answer, but apparently they were expected to give one themselves. "I do not do this to you," they said.

"You do," replied their partner, snickering. "Field workers, country labourers, non-city folk. So many people mentioned it, not because they were describing the individual's clothes, but because they were judging their person. 'They were wearing denim' means 'They were a bumpkin'."

Lethe sighed, unconvinced. "And assuming you are correct, and they weren't all simply describing someone's dress. How does this help us?"

Krin smirked before slamming on the horn and shouting for someone to MOVE IT!

"Do a quick search for agricultural institutions in the general vicinity who have called in a missing persons, or a… there was a Charizard with them, so locating a dangerous unregistered Pokemon, they burnt down one building, so property damage - Lincoln just search to see if any major agricultural institutions near here have called in anything unusual."

Lethe would have objected to this waste of time, but they knew they'd be stuck in traffic for a while. They pulled out their phone and began to search the Federal Police Recent Reports Database for Kanto Province. They filtered for agriculture, and though expecting nothing, quickly found themselves frozen with shock. This is impossible, they thought.

"What is?" asked Agent Krin, fear strangling her voice.

Apparently Lethe hadn't kept that thought to themselves.

"Someone has called in a Johto Order on the Gnarl Estate."

Krin looked over, still frightened, but now also confused. "A what?"

"Watch the road!" snapped Lethe.

Krin turned to face forward. "Oh yes, sorry, I forgot the gridlock sometimes turns out to be a drag race with an exceptionally long count down. What is a Johto Order?"

Lethe sighed. "I had forgotten you were born after the war."

"And you were a child during the war."

"I still remember what happened to Johto Province."

Krin fell in on herself, trying to fight her frustration. "Sure, yes, you've told me; it sounds horrible, I'm very sorry. I'll listen to you talk about it again over drinks later. For now, Lincoln, you're bloviating."

Lethe tried not to take it to heart. "Someone has used an obscure federal act meant to flag and cease war crimes, or at the very least bring attention to a natural or industrial disaster, to… I don't know what they've used it to do… but they've enforced it on the Gnarl Estate."

Krin mustered a kind of curious but dispassionate calm. "And what does this act entail?"

"It disbands all private and federal enterprise, and enforces a general evacuation."

Krin struggled to keep that calm. "That seems like a pretty powerful act. Insane, some might call it. And someone has just enforced it on one of the largest farms in Kanto, and no one has been informed?"

Lethe hesitated, still in shock. "The FCPH are supposed to manage it… but I suppose all local agencies are only updated digitally."

Finally losing their calm, Krin slammed their hands against the steering wheel. "So what, the FCPH are fumbling around with it, while we see nothing. Oh, of course, unless you look at that database, that database so crowded you could spend all day going over what's been uploaded onto it in the last twenty-four, and still only catch ten percent. And there, on that database, is a report explaining how someone has enforced an act on the Gnarl Estate which now defines the area as… Go on Lincoln, you explain."

"Inhospitable due to violent catastrophe."

Krin shook themselves back and forth while holding onto the steering wheel. "Inhospitable due to violent catastrophe!? Do you hear yourself?!"

Lethe tried to control their breathing. "I would like it on record that you requested I search for incidents at nearby agricultural institutions."

Falling still and closing the three metre gap between them and the next car, Krin's expression went taught. "What do we do? Seriously, what do we do? Do we call up HQ, demand to speak with Crinly, and tell them that a war crimes act has been placed on Gnarl farms? Do we just go there ourselves? Do we just ignore this information, recognising it as tangential to our investigation- an investigation, might I remind you, that is not actually our investigation. We were sent here to look into a Ditto's killing, not chase a conspiracy including Ghosts, Charizard based arson, and now… What did you call it? A… A Johto Order." Krin closed a few more metres. "Do you remember about a week ago, when Crinly called us, and asked if we were done, and you said we needed more time because we weren't finished canvassing the DTD? Do you remember that? Do you remember how I suggested for a second time that we tail that fucking girl?"

Lethe snapped. "Alright! I understand. I should have listened to you. I am sorry. But do not pretend like we have never ended up in dire circumstances because you did not listen to me."

Krin smiled. "Yes, but we're not talking about that right now."

"So what are we talking about?"

"What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

Lethe thought it over for a moment. "With all available evidence leading either nowhere or to federal difficulty…"

Krin laughed and shook her head. "No, no, no. You don't get to just say federal difficulty; don't pretend like this is a matter of paperwork and not… Follow the Ghost angle: fired or dead. Follow the TM angle: fired or dead. Follow the Hank angle: probably just eventually reassigned… though honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if that guy was having people killed."

Lethe let out a frustrated breath, and tried to maintain their dignity. "As you say. Still, with what avenues that are left to us, there is one piece of evidence we have not explored."

Their partner cocked a sceptical eyebrow. "And what is that?"

"The feathers."

"The feathers?"

"The burnt feathers found at the scene."

Krin was entirely unimpressed. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"It's the best we have," replied Lethe, letting a treacherous silence follow their words.

And for several moments after, every sound seemed ten times louder, glorified and demonised by that sadistic silence.

Unable to withstand it any longer, Lethe spoke. "Then what would you have us do?"

Krin flipped the lights and sirens, forced her way out of traffic, mounted the pavement, took a left, and found a federal parking spot.

Lethe was mostly certain they had not hit anyone.

Turning off the engine, Krin faced her partner and shouted. "If we have silently decided to shelf this Johto Order information, which may be for the best. Though you better have written down the name of the agent who called it in, and-"

"Cecille Freys, Ministry of Finance."

"Good- Wait. Someone from the Ministry of Finance has declared Gnarl farms inhospitable?"

"It appears so."

"This is… We need to find the name of their supervisor. This is…" Krin shook their head rapidly. "Still! If we are deciding to put the Johto Order business on the shelf!"

"On the shelf."

"Then, I would, for at least the third time, suggest we follow the fucking girl."

Lethe stammered in shock and confusion. "We are… But… The thing… The problem is… She is now gone. She's gone now."

Krin lent forward. "We go to her house."

"We've already been."

"We go inside!"

"We-"

"She is missing-considered-dead, we don't need a warrant!"

"We-"

Krin slammed a fist into the driver side window, fracturing the glass. "I swear to fuck, Lincoln! We should have gone in the first time, but you didn't think it necessary, and I followed, just as I followed with every other-" The Cacturne did all she could to not punch the glass a second time. "You have proven yourself, many times in the past, to be a genius… but on this case, for some reason, every single one of your instincts have been wrong. Every. Single. One. The only reason I am going along with this is anymore is because you trapped me on a moral level." Krin sighed, trying to calm herself down. "You're right, we should try to find this girl. But if you haven't been hiding some secret break in the case, then we go back to her apartment and break down the door."

Somehow both humiliated and invigorated, Special Agent Lincoln Lethe nodded. "We go to her house."

"I can't believe you genuinely proposed we follow the feathers"

"Apologies. No feathers."

"You can bring your own."

"No, no," replied Lethe. "I'll go naked. No feathers."

Krin laughed. "It's unhealthy how quickly my anger for you subsides."

"That may be the most eloquent thing you've ever said."

"Yeah, it's like you put it in my brain."

"I wouldn't dare go near your brain."

Getting out of the car and assuming their natural formation, the pair began to walk down the street. Lethe tried to not fixate on the reaching tendrils and tempting pitfalls of the case - if they were even part of the case. Krin was right; if the girl was what mattered - and Lethe had stated the girl was what mattered - then searching the apartment was all that should matter.

As they stepped past citizens, Lethe was reminded of their position; with gazes, postures and stumbling footfalls, the people of Cerulean City showed their respect, their fear, for the Federal Police. Yet Lethe could not help but wonder how they would have felt if they knew. If the general populace could comprehend how bloated, ignorant and self-absorbed the government really was - or more than that, how incompetent. Lethe bet they wouldn't have stepped aside in the street.

They arrived at Sapphire's apartment building. Taking it in for the second time, Lethe appreciated the cramp and rot more than they had before. A huge building of brown stone, it presented itself well from the outside; within, it was a damp maze of dark, narrow corridors and dirty staircases; her door was a sad grey sheet infested with rust. And behind it… Sapphire lived in a well marketed box.

You could have argued that there were four rooms, but you would have been lying. In truth, the living, cooking, washing and sleeping areas were barely separated. Sapphire's belongings lay strewn across everything, clutter on clutter, the carelessness of necessity and inecessity of care.

It made Lethe a little sad, how the girl was forced to make do. But at least she had made do. Until recently.

"I'll take the area near the sink, you take the one near the bed."

Krin scoffed, "Really, those are the same area."

Lethe had been rummaging through unwashed clothes, food packaging and CCPR client files for less than five minutes, when Krin shouted. "Lincoln! You're going to want to see this."

Making their way over to their partner, Lethe found Krin stood over the bed with a piece of paper in her hand. Krin's expression was incredulous.

"What's on that piece of paper?" Lethe asked.

"Th… No, you know what? I don't have a clever quip for this. Just look at the damn files on the bed."

Lethe cocked an eyebrow. "But what about the one in your hand?"

Krin slapped the sheet amongst its hundreds of bedbound counterparts. "Lincoln, if you do not start reading, gloating, and panicking, I am resigning."

Lethe rolled their eyes and began scanning the papers.

It took about thirty seconds before their entire being froze.

"And for the second time today, I ask you, what the fuck do we do?"

Special Agent Lincoln Lethe looked up slowly. "We read, we gloat, we panic… and then we find whoever gave these documents to Sapphire."

"And we tell fucking no one."

"Agreed."