Story Notes:
This story at some point will contain mild drug use, some violence, some ethical qualms, and a touch of lasciviousness in future chapters, after which I'll upgrade the rating to XXX.
Taking off
Baggage
It's a beautiful sunny day in Olivine City, a cool harbor in the Southern US. This Tuesday morning, three adventurers pack up their belongings to get ready for a long transatlantic flight. As custom permitted, Greco Delaney packed the least of everyone, mostly a briefcase with 30,000 dollars and his various books. In a small bag, he magically inserted a weeks' worth of clothes and toiletries. Melissa Mench also packed light, adding only a few night blouses. Kaz Jergan couldn't decide what to take, finding it difficult to take along 150 pounds of equipment around.
"Pack lighter, Kaz," Melissa urged. The kecleon took a quick glance in her direction as she walked by, noticing that she chose to wear tight fitting jeans that hugged her still feminine curves nicely and wore a matching jacket and cream blouse. His stare lingered almost too long as she suddenly doubled back down the hall carrying her own stuff.
"You know what... you pack it, you carry it."
"I need this stuff," he said, struggling to even lift it up. Sighing, the mawile picked it up with ease, carrying it in his stead. Embarrassed, he followed her, looking down at the floor in obvious humiliation of his lack of physical strength.
Greco just laughed at this exchange. "Ok Kaz, who can tell me when we are supposed to be at the airport? The Bagon pilot might take off if he thinks no one will show."
"You mean Alda Bathings?" clarified Kaz. "You know something? I don't think Melissa has seen him ever. She's only been with use for 2 or so years."
"I've... heard of Alda Bathings in my previous line of work." Melissa tossed the equipment in the back of the SUV, wiping her forehead of sweat. Lugging around equipment always did that to her. "He's a kid you know... a kid..."
"And?" retorted Greco. "He's a kid who is living his dream. How cool is that?" He tossed a few loose things into the car, including his passport and cell phone. He opted to wear a gray wife-beater covered by a light-cotton button down shirt left flying open and some cargo pants.
"Maybe the lack of concern for safety?" Melissa contested.
"Eh, I'm sure time has only improved his flying skills. Nothing to worry about, nothing at all."
"If you say so..." The mawile picked up the remaining bags and tossed them in the back.
While the two were bickering about Alda, their kecleon friend had already strapped himself into the jeep. "Yo Greco, we have to get to the airport in 20 minutes. You don't want to be late... again. You know how Alda is about those things."
-----
An "Old" friend
The trio arrived at San Domingo, an airport nestled by the sea. Although among the country's smaller international airports, it housed scores of domestic and international flights for primarily private flyers. In the sheds to the outside of the airport were many luxurious and lavish jets, great for flying world-class movie stars, businessmen, politician, the whose-who of the States. Of course, Delaney didn't own any playing emblems of wealth, but he and Kaz just so happened to "know a guy"
They drove up to one of the terminals and came to a stop next to one very fancy plane dubbed Sky Dreams. The pilot, a formidable pint-sized young Bagon, came out from his office wearing WWII-era aviator goggles, a bomber jacket, and some nice loose pants. If any faith was to be shaken by his generally goofy appearance, now would be the time. He signaled for Greco to wind down the window of his jeep.
"Late as usual, Greco. It's been a while and you can't even show up on time still?" Bathings said in a mock Irish accent.
"You seem to be around early... plus do you know how long it takes to traverse a two-lane beach highway? And with all the silly let's take the scenic route people. Anyways, I have the flight plans if you need them. We are hitting up Florence for a bit." Greco smirked a bit.
"Well Greco," commented Melissa. "You caused the hold up crossing the solid lines." She hopped out of the car and started taking stuff out of the back. Jergan followed her, carrying the non electronic stuff... as much as he could carry anyway. Greco, carrying a small briefcase, and Alda Bathings went into the office to discuss the terms of their flight.
Once inside the office, Greco took up position in the client chair while Alda sat on his desk, next to a five-color globe. The
"So...what will you be paying in this time?" asked Bathings, jumping straight to the point. In spite of his youth, he was always about business. He rarely engaged in long drawn out discussions. That determination always got him places. He is only approaching twenty and he is already living his dream. Even with his lofty ideas, Greco admired that he stayed grounded.
"Mighty impatient, are we?" he said. "So Alda, how's life been the last two years since I have been able to fly with you?"
"I am Just living out my flying dream, scraping up enough money as a crop duster all while attending high school in order to purchase this beauty. I am in the hole a bit but I can honestly say that I love this plane that much to work so long for it. Now, about that payment..."
"Hold on, hold on," Greco said, smirking a bit. "Don't you want to know what we are looking for?"
"Aww come on Greco. You know I don't really want to know what your dealings are. That way I can't get into trouble with it. But I do have a question. Who is that new girl anyway?" he pointed out the door to Melissa who was still moving very heavy equipment with ease.
"Don't mind her. She is the new muscle of our outfit." He waved his hand.
"Do you like her?" asked the Bagon.
"Not in the way you are thinking. I wouldn't hire anybody I was attracted to. Besides, she is a bit too tomboy for my liking. Now about that payment..." Greco lifted up the briefcase and popped it open. Inside was about $50,000 in 20's and 10's. The bagon looked at the briefcase then at Greco then back at the briefcase, with his mouth wide open.
"Best of all, there is no paper trail for you Alda. Enjoy spending it all on your dreams!"
----
The Flight
"This is your captain Alda Bathings, speaking to you. Thank you for flying Sky Dreams, the number one private plane proprietorship at San Domingo Airport and she's a pretty awesome ride to. Arrival time is estimated at 12 hours. As you are well aware, this is a humongous plane with all sorts of entertainment features as well as a bar in the back of the plane. I must tell you, however, that there will be no smoking. That means you, Greco. The temperature at our destination is 75 degrees, cool for a September on the Mediterranean. Once again, thank you for flying Sky Dreams and enjoy,"
Greco had an unlit cigarette in his mouth already when the announcement came on. He couldn't believe he still had that dumb rule and for so many hours nonetheless. He flicked the white stick into the trash can along with the rest of the box. If he had to spend any more time looking at it, he would go berserk. In the end, he decided to just go to sleep.
Jergan sat at the open bar with his A9000 Leppa Laptop, surfing the nets for black market tech only someone as geeky as him would show some interest. Until Mench's addition, Kaz was never able to keep track of his purchases, most of which he never needed and were oft considered junk. Gadgets and doohickeys cluttered his room. Even now, he packed more than what was necessary in hopes of being able to barter for more useless illegal stuff. As he searched diligently, he sipped on a dry Martini the bartender had prepared him.
"For the love of God, the cops busted another operation. Now where am I going to get my nitro? "His fingers flew about the keyboard as he continued his search for new trinkets. The racket of the keys drove the bartender mad that he had to step out for a moment to gather his nerves. The kecleon was unaware of the racket he made.
Mench spent her time browsing the many channels offered by the satellite-connected large screen television. Not much interested her in television and for the most part was only flipping channels to keep busy. Without any gym equipment or room to do real running, she was stuck on the couch. She passed news channels, movies and pay-per-view channels, nature shows, cartoon, old school drama, and a miscellaneous package of rubbish. Soon enough, she was drawn into the one thing she enjoyed on television: fighting. No one was going to change this channel, she thought. With a flick of her arm, the remote was flung to the far opposite side of the couch she sat on, behind a decorative pillow.
The announcers sounded ecstatic as they introduced the contenders. One was the plasmoid ghost Doug the Rotom and the other was a farfetch'd named Chick. The rotom wore nothing but an announcer's microphone and farfetch'd dressed in a karate man's gi. A tyrogue faced off against a makuhita champion in a freestyle type fighting tournament. Makuhita won last year, but this sensational Tyrogue came from out of nowhere to challenge him and fought is way up to this point.
"BZZZT LOOK AT THE POWER IN THAT ROUNDHOUSE!!!" shouted Doug in an electronic voice. "THAT TYROGUE KNOWS HOW TO TAKE VETERANS DOWN A NOTCH!"
"I know Doug. His lack of reach is more than made up for by the immense crushing force in his little limbs. Boy I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that stuff." The Farfetch'd pointed at the makuhita in the ring. "But look, he just seemed to shrug it off as it was just a love tap!"
Melissa watched intently as the two competitors circled around the field, checking each other for weaknesses in their stance, waiting for one to attack. Finally Tyrogue burst forth, using a fake out, followed by multiple rolling kicks, trying to trip up his foe, but Makuhita was one step ahead of him, blocking his fake out technique and unleashing a barrage of bullet strength punches Tyrogue's side. Melissa bit down on her lip and her fists clenched as she watched the smaller competitor fly across the ring, crashing into the side with a lot of force. Suddenly it didn't seem too fair for a heavyweight and lightweight to fight each other, instantly casting the Tyrogue as the underdog. And it drew her in.
Makuhita moved over to his downed opponent and got ready to finish him and started winding up his massively powerful Focus Punch. Before he could launch his attack, Tyrogue sprung up and unleashed a barrage of mach punches forcing his opponent off balance, opening him up for several rolling kicks to the face followed by a clean sweep, sending the big sumo crashing down with an audible thump.
Melissa jumped for joy along with the crowd, doing a one-two punch in the air for her underdog. She was shouting so loud that Kaz had come to see what the ruckus was about. He watched her clench her face in pain then began cheering again with a sympathetic right hook and left punch just like the Tyrogue.
'Melissa, could you keep it down a bit?" asked the kecleon. "I am trying to recall all the things Greco told me we needed.
"Oh sorry about that," she said half-facing Kaz. "Just that I am so happy my favorite fighter is so close to winning the ... oh my god, that makuhita didn't!' Onscreen, makuhita was tired of getting hit around and just managed to use a Reversal technique, bringing the Tyrogue close to unconsciousness and making his cheeks bruise up as well. The round bell rang and the show cut to commercial break after a word from Chick and Doug.
"What's the danger this time?' Melissa asked, fully turning her attention to the patient kecleon. Kaz beamed at the opportunity to tell her what he had been doing.
"Well... first of all, based on what Greco has already looked up and compiled, we will mostly be dealing with an underwater retrieval, which means we need something like a sub. We already have boats and we could technically dive but he doesn't know how deep in the ocean the shoes could possibly be. We will also need very low-grade hydrophobic 'explosives' in order to dislodge it from the sunken hull which I bet has been rusted at this point."
"That sounds great..." she mumbled, frowning a bit. She didn't like water retrieval missions because of a very nasty accident the last time. One rival raider of theirs tried to take the emperor's clothes from them in the Sea of Japan only to get himself shot by his own spear gun and consumed by sharpedo. All the blood just clouded the water and she had a complete meltdown. Blood wasn't something she could stomach. She started looking a bit pale. Kaz handed her a cup of water, apologizing for reminding her of the incident, bowing his head repeatedly.
He was about to return to the discussion of their target when the commercials ended and the Rotom began discussing the point totals so far. Melissa had turned to the television and would not be as receptive as she was just moments ago, much to Kaz's chagrin. Silently he turned to leave.
"Wait, Kaz," she spoke out. "Stick around and watch the last round with me."
"Okay!"
----
A Xanax-Dream
Smoky clouds filled a room in a downtown Amsterdam pot hub. Faceless customers sat around listening to slow jazz, possibly the same song for several hours. Greco found himself at a table with a pair of aces in his hand. He looked around, checking to see if he was only holding someone's hand. He could barely see across the table as it was clouded with the hashish haze but a coarse, croaking voice carried over from the mysterious beyond.
"Come, lad. Let us play a hand." the stranger said, calling out to Greco. "Mr. Delaney, you a betting man?" Greco smiled a bit and tossed forward a few kroner onto the table. Immediately, the mystery person threw his own money on the table. He could see that the guy on the other side had purple, relatively stiff-looking fingers.
"Mr. Delaney, why do you hang out in places like this?" the stranger asked.
"I dunno, why ask? I don't even know who you are and you know my name somehow?"
"But think about it some, Greco."
The dealer flopped out 2 club, 5 spade, and Ace club. Greco checked his hand and looked over at his invisible foe. Right now, he had three Aces and plenty of hope the stranger had little to get in the way of his win. Whatever reason he had for sitting down to play this game, he didn't give it much thought, only focusing on winning the hand.
"How much money do you have stranger?"
"As much as you allow me to have, Greco. Now then, with your teaching tenure almost secured, why would you want to hang out in this place?"
Not the answer he was looking for and certainly not the questions he desired. The grovyle bet an additional 250 kroner and passed the bet over to the stranger, who met his bet. He uttered a gurgling sound followed by a crass laugh, a laugh Greco remembered very well
"So, Croagunk... that's your species isn't it, stranger?"
On the turn, the dealer flopped a Queen of diamonds. He could see the frog's creepily-static grin. No one laid a bet, but the two men's eyes were locked on each other as a new game developed off the table.
"You see Greco," the croagunk said. "This game will end much like the last few ones. I will win and you will lose, in spite of your supposed superior talent for things archaic. And might I add that your inability to recall my name makes me disappointed."
"Pay attention to the game I'll take from under your slimy nose," Greco retorted. By now, the fog had lifted from the room and for the first time, he could plainly see his opponent, dressed in a tan suit with a custom made cane resting against his chair. And it was someone whom he knew. The river brought a Jack heart to the table. Neither raised the bet and Greco laid down his hand.
"Triple Ace."
The croagunk smiled and tossed away his hand to the dealer, snickering to himself. For one reason or another, this annoyed him. What was so funny that this croagunk couldn't stop smiling and laughing at every opportunity? Just as the dealer reached over to collect their hands, the purple frog flipped over what he had, revealing a king of clubs and 10 of diamonds, giving him a straight. Since he had folded just moments before, Greco technically won.
"Gregory Ranasky..." Greco finally said.
"CROAAA..." was all the poison frog said back. The fog started settling back in and soon he couldn't see anything once again. The clouds of smoke turned purple then faded to black.
THUUUDDD!!!
Greco fell out of his bed to the sound of Kaz and Melissa cheering loudly. With no memory of his dreams, he went out to join them.
----
Dark Room Meeting
The stock room housed the floor's only copier and printer in addition to a fax machine and reams of paper. A flaafy looking to be in her mid 20's sat by the printer waiting for something important. Her hand trembled just a bit in anticipation, evidence of a coffee spill on the left wrist of her light blue power suit. Co-workers came and went and yet she exchanged not a word with them. The pink sheep would merely shift her posture if she was in the way of any of the other machines to give them minimal access
Soon, the fax turned on and started printing out the pictures of several individuals along with general info. If anyone had seen her at that moment, it would have looked like she won the lottery. Her smile quickly faded as she returned to the moment, stuffing the papers into her folder and departing from the room. Her boss came over to her just as she returned to her office, asking about her whereabouts for the past 3 hours. She simply told him that she was ready to present her newest case. She entered the fax into her presentation and hurried to the meeting room.
.
The sheep pokemon walked into a crowded dark room full of her peers and commanding officers. She made her way to the front and using a remote, turned on the projection unit. As it warmed up, she took a look at the audience in the murky black. Some looked pretty bored and still others were antsy, tapping their pens in a chaotic cadence that really annoyed some of the more senior personnel.
Finally, the projector finished turning on and her power point was up and ready to do. The last thing she did was close the door as the one other light in the room made it difficult for people in the audience to pay attention to her, not to mention the added distraction of seeing people walk by.
"On December 2, 2003, an American named Dr. Greco Delaney, currently age 31, was released from prison after serving six months following a conviction in the charges of reckless endangerment and possession of explosives without a license, and charged in March of the same year. The court could not prove back then that he had any malevolent intent. The court also did not take into account that a 4.4 earthquake was triggered in the same spot, with the epicenter located less than a quarter kilometer away. It stands to reason that the government needed to keep track of this individual. However, he fell off the map as soon as he left prison, shedding his ankle bracelet immediately. "
Some noise could be heard in the audience and even her immediate superior boss couldn't help but grumble.
"... It turns out that he has continued purchasing and using these explosives along with new persons. Kaz Jergan, age 25, a German native who until recently lived in Japan started working with Delaney in March of 2004 and according to this latest report they have been amassing wealth from the sales of priceless ancient artifacts. Jergan has a clean record save an arrest during an online black market sting."
"Melissa Mench, age 27, joined his crew in late July 2010. Little is known about her except that she is a Mawile from either Hungary or Romania. Together, these three continued to profit over our history for another year."
"Get on with it, Morneau!" shouted one of the agents. Some of the others snickered in the back but she couldn't tell who it was.
"What are you trying to get at? Why should we pay attention to these guys now?" asked one senior operative.
"If you wouldn't interrupt, I could tell you!" she yelled into the darkness. "Anyways... there were two explosions that happened in a city known for being a safe haven for the Knights Templar, causing several blocks to crumble to the ground. Forensic evidence just came in today and indeed, the compound used there is the same as the compound found in the explosives that triggered the 4.4 in 2003. Only this explosion cost roughly two million euros and two injuries. It is my intention to bring these three to justice. Do you have any questions?"
The lights were turned on at that moment ad she caught a few eyes closed among the audience. Of course, her superior, a Grumpig, had his hand up.
"Ok Eliza..."
"Agent Morneau."
"Right, Agent Morneau, I was wondering why you decided to pursue this case considering that the last investigation team was turned back by Spanish authorities."
"He has things he needs to answer to and it is our job to catch those that evade justice."
"Ok then. How much will this cost?"
"Roughly 15,000 Euro only. I am more efficient than the bureaucracy."
"Go for it then."
"Sir, as the Thunder Arm of Justice, failure is not an option, Inspector Griswold."
"No one calls you that..." Her commanding officer left as did she to clear out for the next case presentation. After a salute, Griswold left her with some parting advice:
"Look Eliza. You are a decorated Interpol Agent. This guy is very elusive. If you don't stick to him, he'll disappear like when he left prison."Chapter End Notes:I actually wrote all the way up to chapter 5 but im a very slow typist
It's a beautiful sunny day in Olivine City, a cool harbor in the Southern US. This Tuesday morning, three adventurers pack up their belongings to get ready for a long transatlantic flight. As custom permitted, Greco Delaney packed the least of everyone, mostly a briefcase with 30,000 dollars and his various books. In a small bag, he magically inserted a weeks' worth of clothes and toiletries. Melissa Mench also packed light, adding only a few night blouses. Kaz Jergan couldn't decide what to take, finding it difficult to take along 150 pounds of equipment around.
"Pack lighter, Kaz," Melissa urged. The kecleon took a quick glance in her direction as she walked by, noticing that she chose to wear tight fitting jeans that hugged her still feminine curves nicely and wore a matching jacket and cream blouse. His stare lingered almost too long as she suddenly doubled back down the hall carrying her own stuff.
"You know what... you pack it, you carry it."
"I need this stuff," he said, struggling to even lift it up. Sighing, the mawile picked it up with ease, carrying it in his stead. Embarrassed, he followed her, looking down at the floor in obvious humiliation of his lack of physical strength.
Greco just laughed at this exchange. "Ok Kaz, who can tell me when we are supposed to be at the airport? The Bagon pilot might take off if he thinks no one will show."
"You mean Alda Bathings?" clarified Kaz. "You know something? I don't think Melissa has seen him ever. She's only been with use for 2 or so years."
"I've... heard of Alda Bathings in my previous line of work." Melissa tossed the equipment in the back of the SUV, wiping her forehead of sweat. Lugging around equipment always did that to her. "He's a kid you know... a kid..."
"And?" retorted Greco. "He's a kid who is living his dream. How cool is that?" He tossed a few loose things into the car, including his passport and cell phone. He opted to wear a gray wife-beater covered by a light-cotton button down shirt left flying open and some cargo pants.
"Maybe the lack of concern for safety?" Melissa contested.
"Eh, I'm sure time has only improved his flying skills. Nothing to worry about, nothing at all."
"If you say so..." The mawile picked up the remaining bags and tossed them in the back.
While the two were bickering about Alda, their kecleon friend had already strapped himself into the jeep. "Yo Greco, we have to get to the airport in 20 minutes. You don't want to be late... again. You know how Alda is about those things."
-----
An "Old" friend
The trio arrived at San Domingo, an airport nestled by the sea. Although among the country's smaller international airports, it housed scores of domestic and international flights for primarily private flyers. In the sheds to the outside of the airport were many luxurious and lavish jets, great for flying world-class movie stars, businessmen, politician, the whose-who of the States. Of course, Delaney didn't own any playing emblems of wealth, but he and Kaz just so happened to "know a guy"
They drove up to one of the terminals and came to a stop next to one very fancy plane dubbed Sky Dreams. The pilot, a formidable pint-sized young Bagon, came out from his office wearing WWII-era aviator goggles, a bomber jacket, and some nice loose pants. If any faith was to be shaken by his generally goofy appearance, now would be the time. He signaled for Greco to wind down the window of his jeep.
"Late as usual, Greco. It's been a while and you can't even show up on time still?" Bathings said in a mock Irish accent.
"You seem to be around early... plus do you know how long it takes to traverse a two-lane beach highway? And with all the silly let's take the scenic route people. Anyways, I have the flight plans if you need them. We are hitting up Florence for a bit." Greco smirked a bit.
"Well Greco," commented Melissa. "You caused the hold up crossing the solid lines." She hopped out of the car and started taking stuff out of the back. Jergan followed her, carrying the non electronic stuff... as much as he could carry anyway. Greco, carrying a small briefcase, and Alda Bathings went into the office to discuss the terms of their flight.
Once inside the office, Greco took up position in the client chair while Alda sat on his desk, next to a five-color globe. The
"So...what will you be paying in this time?" asked Bathings, jumping straight to the point. In spite of his youth, he was always about business. He rarely engaged in long drawn out discussions. That determination always got him places. He is only approaching twenty and he is already living his dream. Even with his lofty ideas, Greco admired that he stayed grounded.
"Mighty impatient, are we?" he said. "So Alda, how's life been the last two years since I have been able to fly with you?"
"I am Just living out my flying dream, scraping up enough money as a crop duster all while attending high school in order to purchase this beauty. I am in the hole a bit but I can honestly say that I love this plane that much to work so long for it. Now, about that payment..."
"Hold on, hold on," Greco said, smirking a bit. "Don't you want to know what we are looking for?"
"Aww come on Greco. You know I don't really want to know what your dealings are. That way I can't get into trouble with it. But I do have a question. Who is that new girl anyway?" he pointed out the door to Melissa who was still moving very heavy equipment with ease.
"Don't mind her. She is the new muscle of our outfit." He waved his hand.
"Do you like her?" asked the Bagon.
"Not in the way you are thinking. I wouldn't hire anybody I was attracted to. Besides, she is a bit too tomboy for my liking. Now about that payment..." Greco lifted up the briefcase and popped it open. Inside was about $50,000 in 20's and 10's. The bagon looked at the briefcase then at Greco then back at the briefcase, with his mouth wide open.
"Best of all, there is no paper trail for you Alda. Enjoy spending it all on your dreams!"
----
The Flight
"This is your captain Alda Bathings, speaking to you. Thank you for flying Sky Dreams, the number one private plane proprietorship at San Domingo Airport and she's a pretty awesome ride to. Arrival time is estimated at 12 hours. As you are well aware, this is a humongous plane with all sorts of entertainment features as well as a bar in the back of the plane. I must tell you, however, that there will be no smoking. That means you, Greco. The temperature at our destination is 75 degrees, cool for a September on the Mediterranean. Once again, thank you for flying Sky Dreams and enjoy,"
Greco had an unlit cigarette in his mouth already when the announcement came on. He couldn't believe he still had that dumb rule and for so many hours nonetheless. He flicked the white stick into the trash can along with the rest of the box. If he had to spend any more time looking at it, he would go berserk. In the end, he decided to just go to sleep.
Jergan sat at the open bar with his A9000 Leppa Laptop, surfing the nets for black market tech only someone as geeky as him would show some interest. Until Mench's addition, Kaz was never able to keep track of his purchases, most of which he never needed and were oft considered junk. Gadgets and doohickeys cluttered his room. Even now, he packed more than what was necessary in hopes of being able to barter for more useless illegal stuff. As he searched diligently, he sipped on a dry Martini the bartender had prepared him.
"For the love of God, the cops busted another operation. Now where am I going to get my nitro? "His fingers flew about the keyboard as he continued his search for new trinkets. The racket of the keys drove the bartender mad that he had to step out for a moment to gather his nerves. The kecleon was unaware of the racket he made.
Mench spent her time browsing the many channels offered by the satellite-connected large screen television. Not much interested her in television and for the most part was only flipping channels to keep busy. Without any gym equipment or room to do real running, she was stuck on the couch. She passed news channels, movies and pay-per-view channels, nature shows, cartoon, old school drama, and a miscellaneous package of rubbish. Soon enough, she was drawn into the one thing she enjoyed on television: fighting. No one was going to change this channel, she thought. With a flick of her arm, the remote was flung to the far opposite side of the couch she sat on, behind a decorative pillow.
The announcers sounded ecstatic as they introduced the contenders. One was the plasmoid ghost Doug the Rotom and the other was a farfetch'd named Chick. The rotom wore nothing but an announcer's microphone and farfetch'd dressed in a karate man's gi. A tyrogue faced off against a makuhita champion in a freestyle type fighting tournament. Makuhita won last year, but this sensational Tyrogue came from out of nowhere to challenge him and fought is way up to this point.
"BZZZT LOOK AT THE POWER IN THAT ROUNDHOUSE!!!" shouted Doug in an electronic voice. "THAT TYROGUE KNOWS HOW TO TAKE VETERANS DOWN A NOTCH!"
"I know Doug. His lack of reach is more than made up for by the immense crushing force in his little limbs. Boy I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that stuff." The Farfetch'd pointed at the makuhita in the ring. "But look, he just seemed to shrug it off as it was just a love tap!"
Melissa watched intently as the two competitors circled around the field, checking each other for weaknesses in their stance, waiting for one to attack. Finally Tyrogue burst forth, using a fake out, followed by multiple rolling kicks, trying to trip up his foe, but Makuhita was one step ahead of him, blocking his fake out technique and unleashing a barrage of bullet strength punches Tyrogue's side. Melissa bit down on her lip and her fists clenched as she watched the smaller competitor fly across the ring, crashing into the side with a lot of force. Suddenly it didn't seem too fair for a heavyweight and lightweight to fight each other, instantly casting the Tyrogue as the underdog. And it drew her in.
Makuhita moved over to his downed opponent and got ready to finish him and started winding up his massively powerful Focus Punch. Before he could launch his attack, Tyrogue sprung up and unleashed a barrage of mach punches forcing his opponent off balance, opening him up for several rolling kicks to the face followed by a clean sweep, sending the big sumo crashing down with an audible thump.
Melissa jumped for joy along with the crowd, doing a one-two punch in the air for her underdog. She was shouting so loud that Kaz had come to see what the ruckus was about. He watched her clench her face in pain then began cheering again with a sympathetic right hook and left punch just like the Tyrogue.
'Melissa, could you keep it down a bit?" asked the kecleon. "I am trying to recall all the things Greco told me we needed.
"Oh sorry about that," she said half-facing Kaz. "Just that I am so happy my favorite fighter is so close to winning the ... oh my god, that makuhita didn't!' Onscreen, makuhita was tired of getting hit around and just managed to use a Reversal technique, bringing the Tyrogue close to unconsciousness and making his cheeks bruise up as well. The round bell rang and the show cut to commercial break after a word from Chick and Doug.
"What's the danger this time?' Melissa asked, fully turning her attention to the patient kecleon. Kaz beamed at the opportunity to tell her what he had been doing.
"Well... first of all, based on what Greco has already looked up and compiled, we will mostly be dealing with an underwater retrieval, which means we need something like a sub. We already have boats and we could technically dive but he doesn't know how deep in the ocean the shoes could possibly be. We will also need very low-grade hydrophobic 'explosives' in order to dislodge it from the sunken hull which I bet has been rusted at this point."
"That sounds great..." she mumbled, frowning a bit. She didn't like water retrieval missions because of a very nasty accident the last time. One rival raider of theirs tried to take the emperor's clothes from them in the Sea of Japan only to get himself shot by his own spear gun and consumed by sharpedo. All the blood just clouded the water and she had a complete meltdown. Blood wasn't something she could stomach. She started looking a bit pale. Kaz handed her a cup of water, apologizing for reminding her of the incident, bowing his head repeatedly.
He was about to return to the discussion of their target when the commercials ended and the Rotom began discussing the point totals so far. Melissa had turned to the television and would not be as receptive as she was just moments ago, much to Kaz's chagrin. Silently he turned to leave.
"Wait, Kaz," she spoke out. "Stick around and watch the last round with me."
"Okay!"
----
A Xanax-Dream
Smoky clouds filled a room in a downtown Amsterdam pot hub. Faceless customers sat around listening to slow jazz, possibly the same song for several hours. Greco found himself at a table with a pair of aces in his hand. He looked around, checking to see if he was only holding someone's hand. He could barely see across the table as it was clouded with the hashish haze but a coarse, croaking voice carried over from the mysterious beyond.
"Come, lad. Let us play a hand." the stranger said, calling out to Greco. "Mr. Delaney, you a betting man?" Greco smiled a bit and tossed forward a few kroner onto the table. Immediately, the mystery person threw his own money on the table. He could see that the guy on the other side had purple, relatively stiff-looking fingers.
"Mr. Delaney, why do you hang out in places like this?" the stranger asked.
"I dunno, why ask? I don't even know who you are and you know my name somehow?"
"But think about it some, Greco."
The dealer flopped out 2 club, 5 spade, and Ace club. Greco checked his hand and looked over at his invisible foe. Right now, he had three Aces and plenty of hope the stranger had little to get in the way of his win. Whatever reason he had for sitting down to play this game, he didn't give it much thought, only focusing on winning the hand.
"How much money do you have stranger?"
"As much as you allow me to have, Greco. Now then, with your teaching tenure almost secured, why would you want to hang out in this place?"
Not the answer he was looking for and certainly not the questions he desired. The grovyle bet an additional 250 kroner and passed the bet over to the stranger, who met his bet. He uttered a gurgling sound followed by a crass laugh, a laugh Greco remembered very well
"So, Croagunk... that's your species isn't it, stranger?"
On the turn, the dealer flopped a Queen of diamonds. He could see the frog's creepily-static grin. No one laid a bet, but the two men's eyes were locked on each other as a new game developed off the table.
"You see Greco," the croagunk said. "This game will end much like the last few ones. I will win and you will lose, in spite of your supposed superior talent for things archaic. And might I add that your inability to recall my name makes me disappointed."
"Pay attention to the game I'll take from under your slimy nose," Greco retorted. By now, the fog had lifted from the room and for the first time, he could plainly see his opponent, dressed in a tan suit with a custom made cane resting against his chair. And it was someone whom he knew. The river brought a Jack heart to the table. Neither raised the bet and Greco laid down his hand.
"Triple Ace."
The croagunk smiled and tossed away his hand to the dealer, snickering to himself. For one reason or another, this annoyed him. What was so funny that this croagunk couldn't stop smiling and laughing at every opportunity? Just as the dealer reached over to collect their hands, the purple frog flipped over what he had, revealing a king of clubs and 10 of diamonds, giving him a straight. Since he had folded just moments before, Greco technically won.
"Gregory Ranasky..." Greco finally said.
"CROAAA..." was all the poison frog said back. The fog started settling back in and soon he couldn't see anything once again. The clouds of smoke turned purple then faded to black.
THUUUDDD!!!
Greco fell out of his bed to the sound of Kaz and Melissa cheering loudly. With no memory of his dreams, he went out to join them.
----
Dark Room Meeting
The stock room housed the floor's only copier and printer in addition to a fax machine and reams of paper. A flaafy looking to be in her mid 20's sat by the printer waiting for something important. Her hand trembled just a bit in anticipation, evidence of a coffee spill on the left wrist of her light blue power suit. Co-workers came and went and yet she exchanged not a word with them. The pink sheep would merely shift her posture if she was in the way of any of the other machines to give them minimal access
Soon, the fax turned on and started printing out the pictures of several individuals along with general info. If anyone had seen her at that moment, it would have looked like she won the lottery. Her smile quickly faded as she returned to the moment, stuffing the papers into her folder and departing from the room. Her boss came over to her just as she returned to her office, asking about her whereabouts for the past 3 hours. She simply told him that she was ready to present her newest case. She entered the fax into her presentation and hurried to the meeting room.
.
The sheep pokemon walked into a crowded dark room full of her peers and commanding officers. She made her way to the front and using a remote, turned on the projection unit. As it warmed up, she took a look at the audience in the murky black. Some looked pretty bored and still others were antsy, tapping their pens in a chaotic cadence that really annoyed some of the more senior personnel.
Finally, the projector finished turning on and her power point was up and ready to do. The last thing she did was close the door as the one other light in the room made it difficult for people in the audience to pay attention to her, not to mention the added distraction of seeing people walk by.
"On December 2, 2003, an American named Dr. Greco Delaney, currently age 31, was released from prison after serving six months following a conviction in the charges of reckless endangerment and possession of explosives without a license, and charged in March of the same year. The court could not prove back then that he had any malevolent intent. The court also did not take into account that a 4.4 earthquake was triggered in the same spot, with the epicenter located less than a quarter kilometer away. It stands to reason that the government needed to keep track of this individual. However, he fell off the map as soon as he left prison, shedding his ankle bracelet immediately. "
Some noise could be heard in the audience and even her immediate superior boss couldn't help but grumble.
"... It turns out that he has continued purchasing and using these explosives along with new persons. Kaz Jergan, age 25, a German native who until recently lived in Japan started working with Delaney in March of 2004 and according to this latest report they have been amassing wealth from the sales of priceless ancient artifacts. Jergan has a clean record save an arrest during an online black market sting."
"Melissa Mench, age 27, joined his crew in late July 2010. Little is known about her except that she is a Mawile from either Hungary or Romania. Together, these three continued to profit over our history for another year."
"Get on with it, Morneau!" shouted one of the agents. Some of the others snickered in the back but she couldn't tell who it was.
"What are you trying to get at? Why should we pay attention to these guys now?" asked one senior operative.
"If you wouldn't interrupt, I could tell you!" she yelled into the darkness. "Anyways... there were two explosions that happened in a city known for being a safe haven for the Knights Templar, causing several blocks to crumble to the ground. Forensic evidence just came in today and indeed, the compound used there is the same as the compound found in the explosives that triggered the 4.4 in 2003. Only this explosion cost roughly two million euros and two injuries. It is my intention to bring these three to justice. Do you have any questions?"
The lights were turned on at that moment ad she caught a few eyes closed among the audience. Of course, her superior, a Grumpig, had his hand up.
"Ok Eliza..."
"Agent Morneau."
"Right, Agent Morneau, I was wondering why you decided to pursue this case considering that the last investigation team was turned back by Spanish authorities."
"He has things he needs to answer to and it is our job to catch those that evade justice."
"Ok then. How much will this cost?"
"Roughly 15,000 Euro only. I am more efficient than the bureaucracy."
"Go for it then."
"Sir, as the Thunder Arm of Justice, failure is not an option, Inspector Griswold."
"No one calls you that..." Her commanding officer left as did she to clear out for the next case presentation. After a salute, Griswold left her with some parting advice:
"Look Eliza. You are a decorated Interpol Agent. This guy is very elusive. If you don't stick to him, he'll disappear like when he left prison."Chapter End Notes:I actually wrote all the way up to chapter 5 but im a very slow typist