“So it seems the Pokémon has once again alluded you…”

 

The two executives stood silently in the partial darkness of the Boss’ office. The female executive was looking more nervous than usual.

“Our guards were powerless to stop it, sir,” she murmured.

“Not even with their enhanced Pokémon?” the irritation in the man’s voice was evident. The woman took a breath and continued her explanation.

“No sir. It came from nowhere and knocked them both out.”

“Then I suggest you use more guards, and train them better,” the shadowed figure replied simply. The woman raised a hand.

“Well, there is always the option of a security system.”

As soon as the words had left her mouth she regretted even saying such a thing. Even in the darkness the executives could sense a welling of anger from their boss.

“And where do you think the finances would come from to fuel that, Bonnie?” he inquired in his well-known dangerously calm manner.

“Ah…”

“YOUR WAGES, you ingrate! Now you and Clyde get out there and find that Pokémon!

 

It’s costing me too much to keep repairing the damage it keeps making!”

 

As Bonnie dragged her husband from the scene she muttered something about “wrenching the power out of his grasp” before disappearing to the patrol quarters.

“Incompetents. I am surrounded by incompetents,” the man told a figure standing in the deeper shadows. “You know what I mean, don’t you. You actually have a sense of direction, a motive. It is why I chose you to field the most important part of my plan.”

“I won’t fail you, sir.”

The man leaned back in his chair and gazed through his window at the empty auditorium below.

“This moral insensibility won’t last forever, Darius. Soon, even the most useless grunt will be the most efficient, powerful fighting machine at my command. I, Giovanni, will strike the world when they least expect it, and claim all as my own!”

“Certainly, Sir.”

“But first, we must find these troublemakers. Rumour has it that somewhere in my organisation, someone is plotting a mutiny.

 

And when I get my hands on them..."

 

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

Look…he’s coming round…

            Thank goodness, it’s been hours.

            What are we going to say to him? It’s not exactly the easiest thing to tell someone, that they’re…

            I know, I know…just leave that part to me, Caley.

 

Three disturbed figures sat upon the bed on the opposite side of the room and watched their sleeping companion began to shudder and stir. They had been pondering all morning over the methods of revealing the devastating news to him once he came out of unconsciousness.

“Uhhh…where…what’s going on?" James mumbled, putting a hand across his eyes in an attempt to block out the light. Upon noticing the extra figure in the room he sat up in such a hurry that he almost hit his head on the shelf above.

"Denise?"

"Hello, James," the girl responded with a faint smile at her friend's clumsiness. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

She only wished they could have been reunited on better terms. James made a move to leave the bed but Caley hurriedly put a hand on his shoulder to hold him back. When the man responded with a confused glance, Denise uttered a heavy sigh before throwing her arms around James' shoulders.

“What’s up? Why are you so glum?” James inquired, still cheerfully but now with a hint of concern. “Don’t tell me they’ve taken you off active duty too.”

“It’s much worse than that," Denise told him. "We have a serious problem, and it concerns you.”

“Me?” Suddenly all notions of happiness had disappeared from James’ voice. He gazed back at Denise who was fiddling with the golden half-moon shaped charm that hung about her neck. "Whuh-what have I done?"

“Nothing deliberate," the girl replied. "Caley told me about what they've been doing to you in the laboratory. But those injections have affected you a lot more than you think.”

The man stared at Denise in anxious anticipation as she screwed up the courage to tell her long-suffering friend his latest blight.

“James..you’ve been turning into a Houndoom.”

“But...but that doesn't make sense!" James whimpered, while Adam muttered under his breath to no one in particular and gazed at his bandaged arm where he had been bitten. "I don't remember being anything other than...well... myself!"

“When your body mutated your mind could well have reverted to basic instincts,” Denise theorized. “It would explain why you can't recall any information of your time as a Pokémon once you returned to normal.”

James' face had now become incredibly pale. He reached down and clutched at the edge of his duvet with a grip so strong that his hands began to shake.

“I don’t wanna be a Houndoom!” he whined miserably. “You’re the scientist Denise; do something!”

“If I could, I would help you myself," Denise replied with a sad shake of the head. "But I'm an inventor, not a genetic engineer. What we need is someone who can concoct an antidote; someone with the knowledge and equipment to do so.

 

Sadly in that field our options seem pretty sparse.”

 

The canteen was deemed out of bounds and all lessons were cancelled yet again while the executives tried to seek out the ‘non-existent’ Pokémon so Adam led the others back to the Intermediate Common Room. Caley could see that the rookie was puzzled over his lack of assignments, but had mentioned nothing more about it. After all, why would he when it was apparent the boy was enjoying the friendly company.

“Even though James cannot remember anything he did as a Pokémon, I get the feeling that some of the Houndoom’s reactions may have been governed by his deepest feelings,” Denise whispered to Caley as they walked through the corridors, avoiding the legs of some of the more unscrupulous operatives who had positioned themselves in doorways and were attempting to trip up unsuspecting people for a laugh.

“Why’s that?” the trainer asked.

“Recently, Jessie has been acting really nastily towards James and treating him as inferior. Even though James says he understands that Jessie’s promotion has gone to her head I bet there’s a bitter anger he’s feeling inside at the way she’s been treating him.”

Denise leant a little closer and lowered her voice.

“I think that was the reason he attacked Jessie in his Pokémon form two nights ago; James would never do such a thing, but Houndooms are naturally violent creatures.”

“It would also explain the Houndoom being drawn towards targeting Adam last night,” Caley murmured.

 

“He hasn’t been the friendliest to James since we met him and I can't figure out why.”

 

There was an air of cautiousness hanging over the other members, as if they could sense something lacking among the entrants. Denise showed the Aquarill she rescued to Mondo, (though Caley could clearly see that her heart wasn’t in it) while James sat hunched silently upon a chair in the corner. Caley gazed at the man's blanched face with its worn-out expression before returning to the window once again. The view beyond the glass helped him to consider his options.

“I really have let myself in for far too much…” Caley murmured sadly, placing his head upon his arms and gazing into nothingness. “There’s no way I can do this on my own.”

"Do what?" a familiar voice inquired from beside him. Caley flinched in alarm; he was certain there hadn't been anyone at the window besides him a moment ago. Errol had managed to position himself beside the trainer without any signs of doing so. Caley looked up at his unexpected company with an awkward expression. He was desperate to tell someone of his dilemma, but revealing his motives and true identity to a Team Rocket member could easily land him in a much deeper mess than he was already in.

"Ya seem troubled," Errol remarked, a spark of curiosity lighting up his battered face. "What's buggin' ya, kid?"

“I just…" Caley began shakily. "I’m having trouble making a decision.”

“In what way?” Errol tilted his head to one side, still not averting his gaze. Caley removed his hat and stared at the Team Rocket insignia it displayed.

“What would you do if you knew you were covering up your true identity?”

Errol looked back at Caley and a flush of realisation passed over his face. It was quickly smothered by childish confusion while Errol pondered the deeper meaning to this inquiry. Caley replaced the hat and gave an apologetic shake of his head.

“I'm sorry," he responded in monotone, standing up. "I shouldn’t be putting my troubles onto your shoulders."

“Dat's okay, kid,” Errol replied slowly, watching as the figure crossed the room and turning back toward the window before lowering his voice considerably. "Its jus’…I wish I could remember what my true identity was.

Oh, an' by da way," he added, as Caley turned to leave. "T'anks."

"For what?" the disguised trainer blinked.

"For da chocolate ya gave me two days ago," Errol's expression didn't alter an inch, but Caley rapidly caught on that the man had worked out his true identity. That was it. The youth decided upon his course of further action and promptly pulled Denise away from Mondo long enough to explain a point that would change her view on him. For better or worse, he was soon to find out.

“What is it Caley?” Denise gave her companion a slightly worried look.

“I have to tell you something important,” the disguised trainer blurted out hurriedly. “I’m not part of Team Rocket. I came here to get a little girl's Pokémon and the Pyra City Generator back to their rightful owners, but the situation dragged me in deeper than I thought it would. I never realised just what horrific things were going on here.”

Denise’s gaze softened as Caley's sentence sputtered out into broken humiliation, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a thankful smile.

“I knew it.”

“You did?” came the stunned response. The girl nodded, almost pleased.

“I knew you were too kind to be a Team Rocket Agent.”

Caley scratched the back of his head the way he always did when he was a little embarrassed.

“You don’t seem the type to be here either.”

Denise sighed and looked away.

“No…well I was sorta tricked into joining by another member. My contract states I have to stay here forever, all Team Rocket members do. Once you’re in, you’re in. There’s no other way about it.”

“Yeah, but Team Rocket is always breaking the rules,” Caley sniffed. “It’s time they got a taste of their own medicine. You don’t wanna be here, right? Well, come with me.”

Denise pondered this idea for a while.

“You'd have no problem leaving the way you came in, so long as no one tagged you and asked for an identification card between now and making your escape," she responded. "But have you thought of the consequences for me? I'd be hunted down; never having a moment free from worry.”

“Surely that's better than staying here watching both people and Pokémon suffer," Caley frowned. The mention of Pokémon suffering caused Denise’s expression to darken.

“You’re right,” she murmured after a short silence. “The Pokémon must not go through any more torment. They need to be set free.”

Caley blinked. Letting the experiments go hadn't exactly been on his list of immediate things to do, but before the trainer could say another word Denise grasped hold of his arm excitedly.

“Everyone here deserves a better life than this. We should all leave...tonight! We must- but what about James? We need to stop his mutations but if we tell any of the Team Rocket scientists they’ll probably dissect him or…something worse!”

Caley took another breath, scanning Denise’s hopeful gaze. He knew now that he had revealed his secret, nothing could be held back. Nothing.

“I do know of a scientist outside this HQ that specialises in chemistry. His name is Professor Gordon, and maybe he would be able to mix up something to counteract whatever's harming James. Though persuading him to help us may be the hardest part.”

“That won’t be the half of it,” Denise remarked. “Getting the message to this professor of yours will be harder. This HQ, the entire city in fact, is covered by a massive psychically-generated field. It's mostly to stop outsiders from getting suspicious about Team Rocket's presence in Coyna by tweaking their perception to make them think we're not here at all, but it also acts as a blocker for communication signals that aren't sent out by our contact department."

"A psychic field?" Caley gasped. "So that's why the people in the city were so oblivious! But what about all those Police?"

"All Team Rocket operatives," Denise shrugged. "With a project as important as this, you can't skimp on protection. No idea why the field didn't work on you, though. Maybe you're like Mondo."

"How?" the disguised trainer blinked.

"No psychic Pokémon can tamper with his mind," Denise commented, almost admiringly. "It's something to do with his aura signature, or apparent lack of it. Scientists were adamant that no life form could survive without aura running through them, but Mondo's living proof that apparently, you can!"

"Weird..." Caley marvelled. "So 'Mondo'...is that his real name?"

"No one knows his real name," Denise shook her head. "The operative that discovered him when he was still a baby was the one who gave him the nickname that everyone calls him by today. You wouldn't believe he was an orphan with no knowledge of his past by the way he's so cheerful and optimistic all the time though, would you?"

Caley shook his head, before Denise sat up excitedly.

"Wait, that's it!" she cried. "Mondo can help us to get a message to that professor of yours."

"Really?" Caley looked hopeful.

"All I require are a few items to create a transmitter which can attach to Mondo," Denise explained. "In theory, if we pass the communication signal through him, his lack of aura should prevent it being detected and blocked by the psychic field."

"Wouldn't that hurt him?" Caley asked worriedly.

"No more than normal radio waves do passing through organic objects," Denise shook her head. "The only risk is if the signal doesn't 'fly under the radar', as it were. But if Mondo's willing to give it a go, it's worth a shot."

"Alright!" Caley grinned. "So what kind of items do you need?"

"Well that's the thing," Denise bit her lip. "A communicator would be simple enough to obtain, but other things are a little more tricky. Take the Cranial Synapse Bypass Unit - that kind of equipment is only available in the medical bay and I'm pretty sure the doctors would notice if one of those went missing."

"Anything you could use as a substitute?" Caley persisted.

"I might be able to make do with everyday materials, if I had the schematics," Denise looked uncomfortable. "Those would be accessible from the Team Rocket Intranet, but only by someone with Class 1 permission rights. You'd have to be a really experienced hacker to break through that firewall."

"And why do you need a Cranial Synapse Bypass Unit?" Kevin asked from behind Caley's shoulder. Denise glanced back at the man in surprise. Glancing round, Caley realised that it wasn't just Kevin that had been eavesdropping on the conversation. Every member of the ICR had their attentions firmly trained upon him and Denise.

"Let me guess...you're a trainer, huh?" Jenna inquired with great interest.

"Well that didn't take long," Denise commented bemusedly, while Caley began to blush at the sudden influx of unwanted attention. Jenna simply giggled at the figure's awkward expression.

            “I could tell," she commented smoothly. "You’re attempting a plan that’s way over your head, that’s a dead giveaway. So spill - what's with the CSBU?"

            “Well…I…" Caley stammered. "I was hoping I'd be able to help out your friend James. He’s been pumped so full of Pokémon DNA, he's been mutating into a Houndoom."

            "He's been the one prowling the corridors at night," Denise added. "We can’t let him suffer any more like this, running on instinct and being at risk of capture and possible dissection. We have to stop him becoming a Houndoom again.

 

It’s not right for a human to be a Pokémon, especially against their will.”

 

Everyone's attention swung immediately in James' direction, causing the man to look almost ashamed as he slowly pulled up the sleeve of his white shirt to reveal the red raw injection marks underneath.

"I don't understand," he asked Caley curiously, pulling the sleeve back down again. "Why did you, a Pokémon trainer, go to all this trouble to sneak into Team Rocket? It couldn't have been to help us."

"At first, I'd only come here to get back the Pyra City generator," Caley admitted. "But then I met Adam. I never realised that people like you, people who just don't seem to fit here, were trapped in the most diabolical organization known to man. And I wanted to make things better."

"You're nuts," Adam murmured, but there was a strong note of admiration in his voice. It was almost as if the boy longed to own the sheer blind determination that Caley must have had.

"Certainly are some high hopes you've got there," Mondo seemed to agree. "Have you any idea how well guarded that generator is? The high technicians don't intend to let go of it easily."

"We wouldn't just be after the generator," Denise explained. "I want to release those poor tortured Pokémon too."

            “Well that's way too big a job for just you two to tackle by yourselves!” Jenna exclaimed. Noting the concerned expression upon her face, Caley decided to try his luck.

            "Then would you guys be willing to help me?" he asked. Silence fell as the rest of the intermediates exchanged surprised expressions with one another. It appeared this idea hadn't even crossed their minds.

            “You know that if we volunteered for this, we'd all have to leave Team Rocket before they discovered us,” James informed.

            "Then do it!" Caley exclaimed, becoming rather animated. "Come with me! None of you want to be here, right? What have you got to lose?"

            "Our lives?" Adam snorted.

            "You could just as easily lose those by staying," the disguised trainer insisted. "At least by running from here, those Team Rocket superiors have less of a chance of doing to you what they did to James, or worse."

            "He has a point there," Mondo nodded, while the others murmured uncomfortably. It wasn't sure whether the response was due to a reluctance to take risks or the thought of being labelled potential organic fodder for a science experiment. Eventually, Jenna stood upon the sofa to make her own personal announcement.

            “It’s about time the Intermediates stood up and did something worthwhile for a change,” she stated, casting her hand into the air dramatically. “Isn’t that right, Kev?”

            “Yeah, that generator took ages to hook up, it needs someone with experience to unhook it,” Kevin nodded, thumbing his chest proudly. "I'm in."

            "In that case, count me in too," Mondo decided. "I don't want my efforts ruined by someone with a ten second attention span. How about you, Adam?"

            "Well if you think we got a better chance out of here than in..." the boy responded hesitantly. Everyone turned to James, who hadn’t voiced his opinion yet. He looked indecisive.

            “Well…uhh…this is all so…sudden!”

            “Come on, James! No one else but us wants you around here at Team Rocket, and if they do its only for use as a specimen,” Jenna exclaimed.

“I guess,” the man responded softly. “But…Jessie-”

            “Jessie’s too wrapped up in her 'career' as an Elite to care about what we do anymore. You know that.” Kevin snorted.

            “I know…but…”

            “I’ll give you till this afternoon to think about it,” Caley stated firmly. "That should be enough time to get a message to Professor Gordon, right?"

            "Yes but in the case of the resources we'll need to send that message, we still need help getting those schematics," Denise reminded him. "And since no one here has enough experience to hack such high level security, we either find some other way of getting a CSBU, or we're going nowhere."

Outside the door of the Intermediate Quarters, Errol stood gazing distantly into a space beyond the opposite wall, clasping his shaking hands together to try and steady them. It looked as if he was desperately trying to bring back something from the unreachable depths of his mind. James...why had that name sounded so familiar?

Still, the opportunity to leave hung tantalizingly just out of his reach. Looking down at the white intermediate uniform he was wearing, Errol shook his head deflatedly. He didn't want to be a part of this syndicate any longer. It felt as though he had worked away the best years of his life at Team Rocket, even though he could not recall when he joined, or why. There were many sore spots within himself that ached for unknown reasons - maybe if he left, there would be a chance to discover why he was hurting so.

But first, there were others to look out for. A message needed to be sent and he knew just the woman who would be able to help them send it.

 

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

            Keeping his eyes firmly affixed on the corridor ahead, Errol strode silently onward, occasionally weaving round passing groups of operatives or office workers carrying large bundles of papers. It had been some time since he'd plucked up the courage to travel above the main floor to where the medical bays and the admin departments were stationed. He knew he'd been here before, but as for when...that part of his memory was a blank, or at least seemed to be.

            Either way, that did not matter - so long as he could remember exactly which area Rose worked.

            Rose was one of Jessie's closer friends and had once been a highly-respected member of the Elite forces, but her self esteem dropped and never recovered following a mission in which her work partner was tragically killed. Since then she had been assigned a position as a nurse in the Team Rocket medical sector, and had dropped in on the Intermediates now and then. However, this behaviour petered out following Jessie's rising animosity towards James, whom Rose was known to have a distinct fondness for.

            Errol flinched as he took note of the sign affixed over the double doors he was approaching. Of course! Rose worked in the minor physical injuries unit. There was no chance on earth the man would possibly get within two feet of her without having something to be attended to. But he couldn't just give up so easily - James needed medical help, even if it meant Errol inflicting hurt upon himself to gain access to it. Still, that would hardly be an easy task in itself  - he was made of pretty strong stuff, after all. Errol uttered a faint groan at this thought.

            Drastic measures would have to be taken.

 

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

            "Heads up, Rose," one of the nurses called through the break room doors, almost causing the aforementioned woman to spit cappuccino down her apron in the process. "New victims."

            "How many?" Rose replied, putting her mug on the sideboard and tying back her curls of golden hair.

            "Three or four," came the casual response. "Reports of heavy bruising, a couple of nosebleeds, fractures...seems one of these buffsicles even got hit by a coupla flying dumbbells. I'm gonna need your help to tackle this lot."

            "Flying what?" Rose pulled a face, following the nurse through the door in an attempt to see what she had written on her clipboard. "Just what exactly happened, Marge?"

            "Some fight broke out in the gym," the woman passed over the clipboard for Rose to have a look. "A weird-looking skinny I-Ranker guy came out of nowhere and started insulting the S-E trainees. He was just begging to be whaled on, if you ask me."

            "I-Ranker..." Rose scratched her head, tossing the shorthand definition of an Intermediate around in her head. Just who amongst that group of misfits would be outlandish enough to do such a thing? As if in answer to her question, the alert to the medical bay sounded, prompting Marge and Rose to dash to the assessment room where they would find their patients. No sooner had she arrived, Rose's mouth dropped wide open.

            There was not three, nor even four injured subjects to contend with. Instead, Rose's eyes were met with six athletic young men draped across stretcher beds, covered in cuts and lumps. These were bad enough in itself, but hardly as painful to look at as the figure that had been wheeled in at the end of the procession. This man's legs were bent back in such a way that they were positioned unnaturally at opposite angles, while he clutched a cloth to his face with one shaking hand and gently massaged the top of his head with the other.

            "Owf... da t'ings I do fer friends," he muttered. Rose flinched at the familiarity of the voice before dashing over and flinging the dividing curtain across the area which this bed was stationed. As she did so, the man lowered the cloth to reveal cheeks blighted with two sets of thin whitish scars and a somewhat disfigured, bloody purple nose.

            "Errol?" Rose spluttered. "What in the world were you doing picking fights in the gym?"

            "Well I had ta get in here somehows," Errol shrugged. "No pain, no gain, eh?" He chuckled faintly, then rapidly pressed the cloth back against his face upon realising his nose was bleeding yet again. Rose uttered a loud groan of disapproval.

            "Good grief. What could possibly be so important as to have the snot beaten out of you?"

            "Hey, it wasn't entirely beaten outta me," Errol insisted, somewhat offended. "I mean, c'mon...dere ain't many operatives capable o' puttin' da boin on six muscleheads at once."

            "That's not the point," Rose hissed. "Why did you come here, Errol?"

            "We need a breacher," the man told her in lowered tones. "T'ings are heatin' up down in da ol' ICR. Dere's fresh meat, and its puttin new ideas inta veteran heads."

            "For Taj's sake, stop speaking so cryptically!" Rose snapped. "How am I meant to understand you when you're-"

            "Is dere a Cranial Synapse Bypass Unit youse could get'cha hands on?" Errol rolled his eyes. Rose stared at him like she couldn't quite believe what she had heard.

            "A CSBU?" she reiterated. "Sure, they have those on the psychostudies ward. But...what do you want one of those for?"

            "Bring one, an' you'll find out," Errol flashed Rose a mischievous grin that was barely visible under the folds of the cloth covering his nose. "I'm doin' a favor fer a friend, okay?"

            Rose paused, before a faint smile crept onto her face and she nodded in approval. Ah, Errol - the man's generosity seemed to know no bounds when it came to supporting a cause or person he firmly believed in.

            "Now if it'd be no trouble, could'ya do a favor fer me?" the man continued, breaking into Rose's train of thought.

            "What's that, Errol?" she cast an admiring glance.

            "Put my legs back da right way round, if ya don't mind. It'll be awful tricky gettin' back to da ICR if I'm walkin' like a Krabby."

           

***~~***~~***~~***~~***

 

"Mondo, would you stop fidgeting and try to clear your mind?" Denise exclaimed somewhat exasperatedly as she tried once again to run the calibration program on the device in front of her. "We aren't going to get any kind of signal with you thinking so much."

"Maybe if I didn't look like such a moron, I wouldn't keep thinking about it," Mondo grumbled, looking up at the contraption atop his head. It consisted of a metal colander attached to some elaborately-shaped coathangers and the transmitter from a paging unit. Caley sat on the sofa nearby, watching James getting his needle wounds anxiously tended to by an otherwise unfamiliar golden-haired woman.

"So that's Rose, huh?" he asked Jenna, a few minutes later.

"The one and only," Jenna chuckled. "Used to be a regular around here, but since Jessie and James went their separate ways, so to speak, she kinda retreated into her job. Denise was happier with that, at least."

"How come?" Caley blinked. "Do those two not get on?"

"Their relationship is...tentative at best," Jenna put her hands behind her head. "Rose was the one who pulled Neesee into Team Rocket in the first place, while working undercover at one of Johto's Pokémon Centers. Neesee has resented her for that ever since, even though she's tried not to let it show.

Still, if it hadn't been for this harebrained scheme of yours, this reunion wouldn't have been possible!"

"Did Errol really have to get himself hurt to get her to come here, though?" Caley bit his lip, looking over the other side of the room. Errol was sat back in his usual spot by the window, only now his nostrils were crammed with cotton wool swabs and one of his hands was bandaged from where it had been trodden on in the scuffle. Somehow the disguised trainer felt like the man's injuries were his fault.

"Well they sure wouldn't have let him in the medical bay if there was nothing wrong with him," Jenna shrugged. "Gotta take one for the team, and in this case, it was a good one. Rose brought the CSBU, as requested."

"Isn't much use to us if aerial boy doesn't stop disturbing the signal," Kevin commented, before Denise held up one hand in a silencing motion. Unusual humming, wavering noises could now be heard emitting from the speaker portion of the communicator that had been wired to the other side of Mondo's helmet. Mondo was sitting bolt upright now, blank dark eyes wide and staring out at nothing.

"Hush, guys," Denise murmured. "I've gotta make a lock on the telephony network rim."

"So long as you know what that is, its all good to me," Jenna remarked, none the wiser. The noises from the speaker grew steadily louder and more digital as Denise continued to make adjustments to the controls on the Cranial Synapse Bypass Unit.

"I've managed to make a latch on the rim, but the connection is a weak one," Denise relayed. "You'll have five minutes, at best. Accessing com link assigned to the house of Professor...Gordon..."

Caley quickly made his way over, desperately trying to ignore the zombified expression upon Mondo's face. More familiar sounds could be heard now - the thrums of a dial tone shortly followed by the melodic exclamations that occurred when someone inputted a phone number. Faint, crackly ringing followed and Caley leaned forward in an attempt to listen out for a handset being picked up.

"Professor?"

"Caley? Is that you?" Alistair inquired, his once cheerful air turning to one of slight worry. "I can barely hear you, boy...where on earth are you?"

"It's a long story, and I don't have much time to tell it," Caley replied firmly. "I've met someone who has been contaminated with Pokémon DNA and badly needs an antidote or something. Whatever has been done to him is causing him to turn into a Houndoom.”

"What?" Alistair choked. "Who could possibly have subjected this fellow to such an immoral treatment? This is unspeakable!"

"I know...and if he doesn't get help, who knows how much worse this could become," Caley cast a glance over his shoulder at this point to James, who now wore a heavily downcast expression at the thought of such consequences. A short silence followed.

"How soon can you make it to my house?" Alistair inquired solemnly. Caley gulped, as the eyes of the others locked tightly upon him. He had no idea how long his plan was set to take! There was so much left to do - find the generator, rescue the Pokémon and help a group of misfit operatives to escape the clutches of an evil organization. It had to be done all in one fell swoop, and fast. With these things in mind, Caley needed to make a rapid estimate.

"Tonight," he said at last. Everyone else in the room tensed, struggling to withhold their exclamations.

"Fair enough," Alistair agreed. "But you have to understand, Caley. This formula will be purely experimental - nothing like this has been covered in the field of legitimate Pokémon sciences before."

Caley gave James one more look, in expectation of his approval. James nodded - he was willing to take the risk.

"Okay, professor," the trainer concluded. "I shall be there."

"Oh, and Caley?" Alistair quickly spoke up, noting the signal was getting worse. "Be careful, boy."

 

"Be...careful?"

 

Mondo uttered a cry and fell forward, the helmet toppling to the floor as he did so. Denise squealed in response and rapidly shut off the Cranial Synapse Bypass Unit before running to his side. But Caley continued to stare into space - Professor Gordon's last words seemed ominously knowledgeable somehow. Was it possible that the old man had worked out what the trainer was up to, at least to a degree?

"Owwww...my head," Mondo groaned. "Please tell me that worked...and that I don't ever have to do it again."

"You did great," Denise smiled thankfully. "James should get his antidote soon enough."

"Too soon!" Jenna panicked. "How are we supposed to do all those things Caley planned in just one day?"

"Less than one day," Kevin murmured, glancing at his watch. It was a little after 2pm.

"That's even worse!" Jenna cried. Rose stood up from where she had been bandaging James' arm and looked intrigued.

"Sounds like your little outsider friend has some big plans up his sleeves," she commented. "And no planned course of action, apparently." Caley looked somewhat uncomfortable as Rose approached him. "What were you expecting to do? Run out there and hope things would fall into place? It's not like a Pokémon battle, you know. It's fatal to think you can rely on luck."

"So are you going to help us, or just stand there and gloat?" Denise snapped. Rose lifted an eyebrow at this sudden, if rather forceful offer.

"Do you have a diversion set up?" she asked. Everyone shook their heads, to which Rose heaved a sigh. "Sheesh...one would think you lot had never taken a Stratagem class in your life, the way you're going about this."

"Hey, cut us a break. We've not been on active duty for months," Kevin snorted.

"Well you're about to get pretty active now," Rose began to grin deviously.

 

"Get me a piece of paper and a good pen - our planning starts this instant!"