In about five minutes, Valtor found himself sitting beside Kenta at one of the biggest round tables he’d ever seen in his life. The diameter must have been about forty or fifty feet, and at every seat, a member of various pokémon-using rogue organizations gazed on at the Daitan brothers intensely. Trying to distract himself from his unsteady nerves, Valtor silently named off the teams as he looked from uniform to uniform, noticing that every advocate was present except for Team Aqua. However, the members of Team Rocket, Magma, Galactic, Innuendo, Snagem, and Cipher took up every chair and all possible floor space of the large underground meeting room. There wouldn’t have been room for anyone else anyway. The Spokesman Rocket who’d first greeted Kenta stood up from his chair at the far opposite end of the table, and any chattering in the room was silenced abruptly. He waved his hands in an upward motion, and six people in different uniforms rose to their feet and stood with him.

“A reminder, gentlemen,” declared the Spokesman Rocket, “that we are together in temporary unity. Leaders, repeat your stances for the late arrivals.”

Kenta twitched angrily beside Valtor, and he saw what was wrong; Basho had straightened up. “Neo Team Rocket Administrator 006, Basho.”

“Representing Team Magma,” announced the woman in a red hood decorated with fake horns, “Magma Admin, Kagari.”

She looks like an occultist, thought Valtor, slightly intimidated. Allies or not, these people are freaking me out.

“I’m here on behalf of Team Galactic,” said a second woman, dressed in a stiff skirt with tight black pants beneath. Valtor found himself reminded of Cindy-Lou Who from the Grinch movie . . . if Cindy-Lou had died and come back from Hell. “Codename, Commander Mars.”

“The Chief chose me as Innuendo’s delegate,” uttered a man in a duster cloak, who’d styled his long black hair to have it cover his left eye. “My title is Second Wind. Call me Sariel.”

“Gonzap,” grunted a giant of a man, with his bare muscles bulging at his sides. “Leader of Team Snagem.”

He looks like Atilla the Hun, thought Valtor, feeling a strange compulsion to laugh in spite of his fear, -if Atilla had designed his moustache to resemble a spider.

“I’m Ein,” spoke the last man in a labcoat, not really looking at anyone but keeping his eyes down at the floor. He seemed a lot less enthusiastic to introduce himself than any of the other representatives had been, and almost out of nowhere, Valtor felt strangely sorry for him. “I’m ashamed to say that I was once part of Cipher. Now I’m in charge of the small remnant who, like me, broke away.”

Valtor checked around the room. He couldn’t see any uniforms aside from those of the first five representatives, and wondered just how sparse this remnant must be. A moment later, his survey jerked to a halt as hundreds of eyes turned on him, causing him to cower back in trepidation. Thankfully, most of the Team members were not gazing directly at Valtor, but at the young man to his left. Kenta gave no signs of stage fright, but clasped his hands together and returned the stare of the Spokesman Rocket. The latter smiled.

“So, now that the introductions are over . . . what have you got in store for us, Daitan?”

Kenta raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” The Spokesman Rocket gave a short bark of a laugh. “You should know better than I do!” He held up his arms enthusiastically. “Wherever you go, things happen. We know you’ve been rallying trainers to fight the law, and urging them to cooperate with us. For god sakes, the news is spreading like wildfire to those of us underground! So here we are, working together, just like you said we should.

“We risked sending Yosuke and a couple other boys out this morning, just so you might hear about us on the news and drop by the area.” The spokesman grinned mischievously. “You took longer to arrive than expected. But of course, it’s understandable why. That little robbery in Orre would delay you, wouldn’t it?”

A great uproar of laughter resounded through the chamber. Kenta waited until it had died down, then got to his feet, stone-faced. “I’m not as used to stealing as you probably are,” he said firmly, “so it’s crucial that I make up for this weakness, ‘if the tide is to turn.’” He was greeted with a few confused faces, and continued on steadily. “One day in the near future, there is going to be a decisive mass pokémon battle, in which agent forces of the government will mow down our resistance. I’m not oblivious to my enemy. Any hastily-trained pokémon that we rebels capture now will serve no purpose, except to buy time and wear down their super pokémon.”

This wasn’t Valtor’s first time hearing these words, yet it disheartened him all the same. After all of his recruitment visits and “can-do” encouragement to the masses, in the end, Kenta didn’t have faith in his own troops to finish off their oppressors. What he was about to announce wasn’t the back-up plan; it had been the battle strategy all along.

“Our only chance of winning is to do what we should have done before G.R.I.P.’s little privacy invasion: fight them with OUR pokémon. On the day of battle, I intend to snatch trainer-owned uber pokémon right back out from their grubby hands, and use those against them.” Kenta’s eyes sharpened. “But to do that, I must have the Snag Machine. Krane Laboratories used to have a real one, but since then, they’ve replaced it with a fake. I have no idea where they hid the true invention, and I’m running out of time to find it.”

Someone cleared his throat. Everyone’s attention in the room shifted to the giant musclebound man called Gonzap, whom Valtor had likened to Atilla the Hun. He had a distant look in his eyes, but smiled as though he was recalling a fond memory. “You know, kid,” he said, “in any dilemma, there’s always a backdoor route that leads to the solution. Do you think those suits are the only ones with a Snag Machine?”

Kenta glanced at him intently, eyes alert. “You mean you’ve been keeping a spare stashed away? You know how to make them?”

“Well, you’re half-right.” Gonzap crossed his arms, in his own little world. “You see, Team Snagem used to be a legitimately feared organization back in the Orre Region, but that was largely because of one talented rogue we used to have, who later quit. No, ‘quit’ isn’t the word. He flat-out betrayed us, even blowing up our base as he fled. His name was Wes.”

Valtor stared at Gonzap in wonder. He was expecting outrage in the big man’s voice, yet Gonzap almost seemed to be basking in the memory of his treacherous former teammate.

“I suppose it’s mostly my fault for what happened,” he sighed, “and it just took me a while to accept it. Our team had gotten a proposition from two elderly gentlemen named Evice and Greevil Cipher- brothers born into great fortune. They were going to offer us more money than we’d ever seen in any of our desert-wandering lives, in exchange for the blueprints to our infamous Snag Machine. I was all for it. When you’ve lived in an arid wasteland your whole life, and Survival comes knocking at your door, you don’t turn him down. It was always about the money.

“Wes differed on the matter, and he told me so quite readily. Said he didn’t trust the Cipher brothers one iota, and I shouldn’t, either. I was too short-sighted at the time to realize that they would later try to conquer the region with their ‘Shadow Pokémon Plan,’ and if possible, the rest of the world- twice. We got into a shouting match over it, and Wes just stormed off, threatening to take matters into his own hands. I didn’t think he’d really do it.

“As the team Snagger, Wes held the most responsibility for our Snag Machine. I guess he felt convicted about Cipher conquering the earth using his baby, on his watch. He could’ve just taken it and left, but instead, he blew a large hole in our wall and drew attention to himself. I don’t know when or how he planted all the explosives around our base, but he obviously wanted the blueprints destroyed. As soon as we were all out of the base and chasing him, he sent the whole thing up in flames.”

Gonzap shrugged, staring at his own feet. “Good kid. A little rough around the edges, but he knew what was going on when the rest of us failed to see it. And he made sure we all got out alive. Fool that I was, I ended up siding out team with Cipher anyway. We didn’t accept that they were evil until long into their second attempt at world domination.”

He must’ve been waiting a long time to get that off his chest, Valtor observed, as a pregnant silence lapsed in the room. Looks like there’s more complexity to the stereotypical bad guys than the media has given them credit for.

“So,” Kenta finally said, somewhat awkwardly, “that’s interesting and all, but you say that Wes left with your Snag Machine? Where is it now?”

Gonzap smiled and shrugged. “I can’t tell you that for sure. I can’t even be certain of where Wes is.” He clasped his hands together, looking serious. “But I can tell you about his favorite haunt. He likes to hang out in an old diner on the outskirts of the Orre Region. It looks like a disfigured steam locomotive. You can’t mistake it when you find it.” He grinned. “I met him there a couple of times. He still has gray-dyed hair, reflector shades, and that stupid blue duster cloak of his. But no Snag Machine on his arm. Not anymore.”

***

There would be no going back to Violet City for Kenta and Valtor that night. Now that they were on Japan’s “Most Wanted” criminal list, everyone above ground level was on high alert for the legendary thief with the Zapdos. After sending Mismagius to inform Marina that they were safe, the Daitan brothers retired to a small room that had once served as a shinobi Black Ops meeting area. With no windows, and only cramped living space, the place was somewhat claustrophobic. However, Kenta wasn’t complaining, nor would Valtor. They had a door between themselves and the criminal organizations outside, and even though it had no lock, it provided some consolation.

Kenta hummed as he spread out his sleeping bag, showing cheer for the first time since the two had entered the Rocket hideout. Valtor caught his eye, pleased to see that his spirits were up, and Kenta smiled in return. “We’re back on track, bro,” he said jubilantly, fluffing his pillow. “I didn’t think it would happen so fast. We’ve got our next lead, and Bolt is feeling better already. Best of all, this new task is nice and safe. If all goes well, we’ll be eating lunch with Wes by tomorrow.”

“D’you think he’ll give the Snag Machine to you?” Valtor asked, settling into his own bag. “I mean, have you thought about what you’ll say to him?”

Kenta turned off the light, but not before Valtor caught a last look at his face. His smile was still there, but it had faded. “You heard what Gonzap said,” he replied, his voice neutral. “Wes doesn’t let himself be seen with the Snag Machine. He may not even have it anymore. But . . .” The smile returned in his voice. “If there’s anyone who understands how it works, it’s him. We’ve already got his sympathies. All we have to do is convince him that our government has become the new Cipher.”

Valtor yawned, suddenly tired. “You make this sound so easy.”

Kenta issued a short laugh. “When you rough it for long enough, you forget what hard is.” He heaved a long sigh. “But we do still have one more Herculean Labor to go once this is done, and it’ll be like trying to catch smoke. We’ll need to hire a professional for this one. I just hope Marina never deletes her phone contacts.”

***

The morning sun had just barely crept into the sky when Marina came out through the double-doors of Mahogany Town Pokémon Center. Standing under a lamppost, waiting for her, were two young men in brown traveling cloaks. The taller one, who was wearing his long, white- dyed hair in a loose ponytail, nodded a silent greeting to her. Marina stared, then put a hand on her hip, bemused.

“What’s with the getup?” she said in an ironical tone. “Do you guys think you’re cool now, or something?”

“Nah.”

In a dual sweep of hands, both Kenta and Valtor pushed a pair of dark glasses over their eyes, and grinned identically. “Now we’re cool,” stated Kenta matter-of-factly. Next to him, Valtor shrugged. “In all honesty, Marina, we need to look bizarre for where we’re going. The Team Snagem remnant and the Cipher dropouts warned us that there were a lot of weirdos in the Orre desert. The best way to avoid trouble is by fitting in.”

Marina looked at them uncertainly. “Okay, then,” she said, brightening up a little. “So, where’s my cloak?”

Valtor coughed automatically, uncomfortably, and glanced at his brother. Kenta removed his glasses and looked Marina in the eye. “I need you to do something for me, before I leave you,” he said in his most serious voice. Marina looked at him, her face reddening a little, and glanced away. “Wh-what would that be, Kenta?” she asked timidly. Kenta pointed over her shoulder, at the mountains to the east, and his voice became deep and soft. “Promise me you’ll do your best to make it happen,” he crooned. “Only you can do this for me, Marina.”

“Of course,” she said, looking very taken aback, completely red-faced. “Anything for you, Kenta. What do you need me to do?”

Kenta winked and gave her a thumbs-up, and his voice returned quite suddenly back to normal. “Thanks, Marina! I need you to find me that guy we ran into, back during the Raikou incident. What’s-his-name . . . Eusine.”

“Uhm . . . oh.” Marina relaxed, looking disappointed. “You’re referring to that guy in the half-cape? Strand of hair constantly in his face? The one who drives like a twelve-year-old?”

“Bad manners? Unhealthy obsession with Suicune? Yeah, that guy.” Kenta tossed his Friend Ball, and a moment later, Bolt’s enormous Salamence body was standing between them. He hopped on, pulling Valtor along with him. “Find him however you can. Tell him that his goal is within reach. We need to get going- thanks again!”

Then they were in the air, and shooting for the clouds before Valtor could even fully catch up on what had just happened. However, as he pieced it together, he shifted his weight and kicked his brother in the back of his leg. “Not cool, Kenta,” he said, as the other turned around to give him a what-the-hell-dude look. “You shouldn’t toy with a girl’s emotions like that. You seriously sounded like you were about to propose to her just then, in case things didn’t work out.”

Kenta turned away, with an odd smile on his face. “You obviously don’t know Marina,” he said, “even after all those times you talked with her on the phone. If I hadn’t put her on the defensive back there, she would’ve gotten really indignant over the fact that we weren’t taking her.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Marina may act happy-go-lucky, but she’s actually quite a competitive battler. In fact, I almost regret not bringing her.”

“Really?” asked Valtor, feeling confused. “So what’s the issue, here?”

“It’s the same dilemma that Osama Bin Laden faced,” mused Kenta. “We can travel in numbers for safety. But we travel in limit for stealth. If we get caught, I can only hope that we wouldn’t need Marina’s extra strength to get us through.

“Let’s just pray that Wes is with us, if things get bad.”