Chapter 65

"Justice for a Small Town"

When news of the fall of Team Rocket's Tehran headquarters and the capture of Madam Boss broke, it spread quickly around the globe, but no more so than in the town of Lockerbie itself. A town still reeling from a 747 crashing down on it one week ago today was now in the process of finding a sense of closure.

When he woke up and listened to his morning radio, Farmer Jones, like all the other residents of Lockerbie, felt a sense of relief.

"Reports are coming in this morning that International Police and FBI agents raided and arrested 30 agents belonging to the organization Team Rocket in Tehran, Iran along with the capture of Maria Sakami, also known as Madam Boss in a Viridian City hospital in Japan," he heard the BBC reporter say. "This, of course, is in response to the terrorist bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland one week ago. As of this moment, the captured are being flown to West Germany where agents from the United States will be turned over to the authorities."

"About damn time," the elderly man remarked as he prepared to go out to tend to his animals. "About damn time."

Getting dressed and stepping outside, Farmer Jones was about to make his rounds when Farmer Frederick came driving up the driveway.

"Jones!" he cried, running towards his friend. "Did you hear the news? They got the bastards!"

"Yes, yes they did," Jones replied as he prepared to fill a bucket of chicken feed. "A sense of closure for the town after all we went through. But, uh, there's something that you need to understand…"

Farmer Frederick could see what his friend was about to say.

"Aye, I think I know what you are going to say, Jonesy. That this isn't the end, only the beginning. Just like when those Jerries bombed London."

Sighing deeply, Jones took the bucket of chicken feed and brought it over to the chickens, dumping it in a large bowl.

"In a way," sighed Jones. "This was just a battle we won, but the war has only begun. As long as that bonnie prince son of hers is in power, Team Rocket will never be defeated so easily."

Still, Jones began to think back to one night earlier when he discovered the bodies of Nancy Conn, Charlotte Parks and several other passengers from Flight 103 lying around his farm. To him, this was no longer considered just as an accident, but an act of terrorism. As Jones proceeded to get his horse ready for work, those memories continued to play out over and over again.

"Something else comes to mind, Fred," Jones sighed. "I can't help but think that its likely Pan American is also to blame here….putting profit over the safety of its passengers and crew. I mean, British Airways would have done better at addressing this issue than they have."

"What makes you say that?" wondered Frederick.

"You know that our national airline would never endanger it's passengers and crew. If the threat in Helsinki would have been directed at a British Airways flight, they would have canceled the flight altogether. Come on, Frederick, see sense. Remember how we would always fly the Carlisle-London route three times a month to sell our product? They always put safety over everything else."

Of course, Farmer Jones wasn't no nostradamus, but he had age and experience for a man of almost 83 years.

…

Meanwhile, having done our morning report from the downed cockpit, I decided to take a moment and pay God a visit just as Father Keegans was lighting the candles for a funeral service.

"Miss Stevens," he asked, somewhat startled to see me praying. "I wasn't expecting to see you and your…duck here."

"Psy?"

"Well, I just wanted to thank God for guiding me in bringing the news of Team Rocket's arrest to the world. At least a small amount of justice for this town."

"True," sighed Father Keegans. "But I'm afraid it's going to take a long time for our community to fully recover from such an atrocity. The scars of December 21st are going to be here forever."

I then noticed the cafaloque lying at the foot of the altar, a sign that a funeral was imminent.

"Whos that for, may I ask?"

"One of the townsfolk who died in the bombing is being laid to rest here on the grounds of the church today. Another victim who was on the plane is also being buried here."

"Father, I must ask you…do you epitimize Team Rocket as the devil's soldiers?"

I don't know how I thought of it, but I did and the fact that Team Rocket was branded by me as the soldiers of the devil was spontaneous, yet shocking for me to say it in a house of worship.

"After all," I remarked. "They used explosive Pokemon to bring down the plane over Lockerbie."

Father Keegans said nothing for a moment, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Miss Stevens," he said quietly. "I can only say one thing…that anyone affiliated with Team Rocket will be judged according to our lord when their time comes. It will be up to him who enters the kingdom of heaven or the kingdom of hell."

Amazed to hear a man of the cloth say those words, I couldn't help but agree with him on that remark. Everyone has a judgment day when they pass from this world into the next and the captured Madam Boss and her followers…were no different.

"Um, father, if you'll excuse me," I said, gesturing Psyduck to come by my side. "I have to go cover the Prime Minister's conference at Lockerbie Town Hall. I don't leave until tomorrow morning, so…"

"I understand, my child,' he remarked. "Thank you."

Acknowledging, Psyduck and I left the church and rejoined our crew to cover the Prime Minister's response to the captures in Tehran and Viridian City.

…

Meanwhile, the prison plane carrying the captured Team Rocket agents from Tehran was about to land at Ramstein Air Force Base in West Germany.

…

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