Part Two
I pressed my hands against the hard cold window, my slow steady breath baring fog upon its surface. What a wonderful view I had from up here. People hurrying by were just small specks slowly inching across the ground below me, while cars were colored rectangles moving slightly faster. But despite this feeling of being lifted up into the air, I couldn't forget that I was still in a helicopter with some stranger.
The stranger. I still didn't know her name. If my memories weren't so fogged up, I should've been able to remember her name. But of course I didn't. The woman hadn't spoken at all since our small conversation in the city. She did tell me to get inside the helicopter and put on my seatbelt, but that was it.
"We're here." She said softly.
I turned to look through the other window to my left. Finally, after wandering through a large barren field, we had come to a large black building. On the front above the huge glass doors was a blood-red R. I should've recognized that too, as I grasped my golden locket tightly and shut my eyes, taking a deep shuddering breath.
The woman must have seen me. "What's wrong?" She asked, smirking. "Airsick?"
My eyes flashed open as I stood up. "Sure. That's it." I muttered. Shoving the door open, I jumped onto the ground, my legs shaking for a moment. I took a deep breath of fresh air, and then continued on towards the building's front doors. The woman was close behind. As we came to the front door, she stepped in front of me, quickly tapping a code of numbers into the small mechanical device attached to the wall. A small laser of green light then swept across her eyes, the huge glass doors finally opening. All I could do was just stand there and watch in awe.
As they opened the woman took one step backwards so we were walking side-by-side. One of her hands was tightly grasping my right shoulder the whole way. I tried shrugging it off once, but she kept a firm grip. I sighed, staring at the ground, the woman leading the way. This might have been a mistake. But it might not have. All I knew was that this woman was somehow connected to my mother's death.
Even one simple chain can make a difference.
"Boss, I have the girl." The woman said. I looked up to find her speaking into a small speaker attached to the wall beside another large door.
There was silence on the other end for a moment, as the only thing I could hear was the rapid pounding of my heart in my chest. Then, they spoke.
"Come in." Came a sharp reply full of static. The person on the other end was an adult male. The door in front of us slid open with a soft hiss. I paused for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the large open room before me. But the woman eagerly shoved me forward, forcing my legs to move. We stepped up to a large rosewood desk, a man with dirt-brown hair sitting in a tall jet-black leather seat, slowly stroking something in his lap.
"I've been waiting a long time, Clare." The man said in a whisper, whirling around in his chair. He had cloud-grey eyes, and his hair was slicked back. In his lap lay a Persian, purring contently with every long stroke. The man grinned.
Clare. Of course. Seven years ago. Eighteen years old. Just standing there, gazing. Gazing at me. Gazing with those mud-brown eyes. Eyes sparking with an emotion I couldn't make out. An emotion. Clare.
"Sorry, boss." Clare hastily apologized. "But the girl came to me rather late."
"I see." The man murmured, now scanning my appearance with hungry eyes. They stopped once they reached the sight of my golden locket. That cloud-grey color sparked with the same emotion of desire, just as Clare's had. But this time it was much stronger, more of a greedy desire. "If you could step outside for a moment, please."
Clare nodded and stepped out of the room, the door quietly shutting behind her. Looks like there was no turning back.
The man took a deep breath and shut his eyes, pausing, as if to savor the moment. Then his eyes flashed open. "Kira, do you know what Team Rocket is?" He asked, staring intently at me. I quickly turned away. I couldn't bear his sharp gaze any longer. Those cold eyes almost seemed to pierce my soul.
"How do you know my name?" I asked softly, hardly daring to breathe.
"Answer me first." He said, rather sharper and louder this time. I took a small step backwards, but tried not to show any emotions of fear.
"No, I don't." I answered, staring at the ground.
The man smirked. "Team Rocket..." He said slowly in a haunting whisper. "...is a criminal organization, girl. And I am the founder of it. I am the leader."
I just stood there for a moment, gawking. Criminal organization. The words buzzed through my head, making me feel dizzy.
"What do you want with me?" I asked slowly.
The man chuckled. "Too many questions, too many questions. First let me answer your first one." He said, continuing to smirk. "First of all, my name is Giovanni. And how do I know your name? Because I knew your parents, that's how."
My breath was taken away. This man knew my parents. Perhaps he could help clear up my memories, to not act blind, and to actually catch them. But he was the head of a criminal organization, and I couldn't forget that.
"And?" I replied in hardly a whisper.
Giovanni leaned in close, his hot breath brushing down against my face. "If you join Team Rocket, I'll tell you all you want to know about them. All you want to know about your parents and your past."
I didn't even have to think about my answer. "No." I said firmly.
I expected Giovanni to frown at my answer, to perhaps shout at me, to take me by the arm and throw me hard against the wall. But instead his mouth grew into a small, evil grin. Why was he looking at me like that?
"Come with me." He ordered, dragging me by the wrist out the door. His grasp was even firmer than Clare's. I tried to hold back, but he didn't even glance behind. Instead he just jerked his hand forward, forcing me to move once again. After quickly walking a little while, we came to what appeared to be a trophy room. Tons of gold sparkling trophies and medals sat on desks and were hung on walls, baring awards such as "Team Rocket Grunt Of The Year" and "Hardest Mission To Be Accomplished". Finally we stopped at a rather large gold trophy, standing tall only a few feet away from the ceiling. Engraved into its surface were the words "This Award Goes To The Barer Of Ten 'Team Rocket Grunt Of The Year' Awards:" in neat letters.
We just stood there for a moment. I was breathing heavily.
"Look at the name, Kira." Giovanni whispered into my ear. My eyes wandered down to the first and last names also engraved into the trophy's surface.
John Markus
John. That was the name of my father. Markus. And that was my family's last name. For my name was Kira Markus.
My father had been part of a criminal organization. My father had been part of Team Rocket.
I shut my eyes and shook my head in disbelief, my tangled hair brushing against the sides of my face. But when I slowly opened my eyes back up, the name was still there, engraved on the trophy's golden surface, engraved into my mind. John Markus. I couldn't get the name out of my head.
"No. My father wasn't part of Team Rocket. He might have left my mother when I was three, but I know he wasn't a criminal. He couldn't have been." I choked out. That's what I wanted to believe. But my spoken words were battling against the engraved words on the trophy, and they were losing. I gulped down the worries that seemed to be drowning out my heart.
"Your father was great, you know. My best Team Rocket member ever." Giovanni continued, an amused look in his eyes.
"Liar!" I spat.
"If he was still alive and if I died for some reason, he'd probably be my replacement. Not that I'd mind. In fact, if the last words ever spoken to me were that your father would be the new leader of Team Rocket, I'd probably die grinning."
One memory of my past I did have was an image. An image of a look of pure emptiness and terror etched on my lifeless mother's face as she just continued to lay there on the cold ground in my room.
"How can somebody die grinning?" I whispered softly, gazing at the ground. I raised my head to find an angry frown etched on Giovanni's face. He seemed disappointed in me.
"Kira." Giovanni said, sighing. He leaned in close to whisper into my ear once again. A shiver ran down my spine as he did this. It always made me uncomfortable to have him so close. "You could be great too, you know."
I stepped away from Giovanni and stared intently into his cold eyes. "Someday I may become great. But I will not become great by joining a criminal organization. Becoming a criminal is not my destiny." I said firmly.
Giovanni's eyes wandered down to the golden locket I was tightly grasping in my now sweaty hands. "And being together forever with the person who gave you your locket is your destiny instead?" He asked, smirking.
I glared at Giovanni for a moment, anger surging through my veins. Then I spoke. "This locket was a promise, not destiny. But there was no way my mother could keep it because she got killed seven years ago." I replied through gritted teeth.
There was silence, a deadly cold and choking silence. As Giovanni's eyes filled up with a delighted emotion, I knew that he was ready to speak. But he did not, at least for now. There we were, just the two of us, a female pre-teenager and a male adult, trying to stare each other down.
Then he spoke. "Kira, do you know when your father died?" Giovanni asked in a slow whisper.
"No." I answered simply, continuing to stare into his eyes. Giovanni took a deep breath, as if he had been practicing this conversation for years and now it all came to this.
"Your father died the exact moment you were given your locket."
My breath was taken away. All I could do was just there and gawk. My father and mother divorced when I was three. My father died when I was four. And then my mother died when I was five. Only now, at the age of twelve, had I learned about my father's death. For years there had been that deadly gap between age three and age five. But now I knew. Now I knew almost everything. Giovanni could've been lying. But I didn't care. All I knew was that he knew about my parents and my past, and those last words of his was all it took.
"I'll join you. I'll join Team Rocket." I whispered.
Giovanni's face grew into a wide grin, the widest grin I will ever see in my life.
As I whirled around to walk out the doors that had led to the trophy room in which we stood in, the last shouted words I heard from Giovanni were "A broken promise is a broken promise, no matter how it shattered! Your mother betrayed you and your father!"
Betrayal.
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A hard cold round object was placed in my hand. My eyes flashed open, revealing the sight of a pokeball. I looked down at the tight black uniform that my body bared. My naval was exposed. The same large blood-red R that was above the front doors of the building was etched on the front of my shirt. The typical female Team Rocket uniform.
"Have you ever held one of these in your hand before? Have you ever battled using pokemon?" Clare asked in a whisper.
I shook my head no, now staring intently ahead at the open battle field before me.
"Answer me out loud!" Clare ordered sharply.
"No." I said hastily. Clare gazed at me for a moment, and then walked over to the opposite side of the battlefield.
"If you ever want to be a good member of Team Rocket, you need to know how to battle well." Clare said firmly, her hand sweeping from behind her back, revealing another pokeball. "I'm sure you can at least let the pokemon out of that pokeball." And with this she lazily tossed her pokeball up into the air, revealing a blinding flash of red light. I shielded my eyes for a moment with my left hand, and then dropped it. There stood a Murkrow, cawing at the air, frantically flapping its jet-black feathery wings. I gritted my teeth. I knew the moment I decided to join Team Rocket that I'd have to learn to battle. Whether I'd be able to do it well or not, I didn't know. But the words Clare had whispered to me were still etched in my mind along with Giovanni's past words. "You have your father's blood in you." The thought made my stomach seem to twist. I wondered if this was true or not, if I'd really be a great Team Rocket member just like my father had been, if I'd be able to battle well.
I shook my head rapidly and then followed Clare's actions, tossing my pokeball up into the air. This time I resisted the urge to shield my eyes once again and watched the figure of a Houndour emerge in the red light.
"This Houndour shall be your own pokemon that you and only you can use." Clare said loudly from across the room. "It's not so strong now, but if you succeed to follow through with my training and follow the boss's directions, it shall get stronger and hopefully evolve into a Houndoom. Do you understand?"
I was going to nod my head, but then quickly remembered Clare's past sharp order and instead spoke out loud. "Yes." I answered firmly. I continued gritting my teeth, a nervous feeling pricking my throat. I would've been even more nervous if I hadn't been thinking of the betrayal I went through when I was young. "A broken promise is a broken promise, no matter how it shattered! Your mother betrayed you and your father!" Betrayal. Just then I felt the anger surge through my veins, as my stare turned into a glare.
"Good. Now, order your Houndour to attack my Murkrow. Any attack at all." Clare ordered sharply.
I nodded and shut my eyes. Attacks. I had often spent my free time sitting and watching pokemon battles on TV, staring wide-eyed at the flashing colors. I was pretty familiar with attacks.
My eyes flashed open. "Houndour, trap it with Fire Spin!" I ordered quickly.
I watched as my Houndour stood firm in the middle of the battle field and gazed at the ground for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, its head shot up revealing a large beam of glowing and burning red fire. Sweating, I could feel the heat from where I was standing as the fire shot around the Murkrow, continuing to sweep around the pokemon in circles, only stopping a few seconds later. My Houndour barked triumphantly. But there was no time to waist.
"Now get above the Murkrow and use Flamethrower!" I followed through.
My Houndour bent its hind legs for a moment, glaring at its target, and then took a flying leap and soared through the air above the Murkrow's head. Opening its mouth the pokemon revealed yet more large licking glowing flames, this time unleashed all at once in one mad furry at the poor Murkrow. The flames swept around through the air for a moment, trapped inside the wheel of fire I had ordered my Houndour to make before. The only signs that Clare's Murkrow was even there was some small flashes of black now and then. Then the flames faded, just a few small ones here and there licking the edges of the Murkrow's wings lying limp at its side. The bird pokemon was on the ground. Black feathers were drifting down from the air, seeming to have been plucked one by one. And there were charcoal-black scorch marks everywhere. I had won the battle.
Clare just stood there for a moment, gawking at me. She shut her eyes and held her breath for a moment, and then let it out. Her eyes flashed open. "Um... good job, I guess." She shouted across the room weakly, not her usual sharp and strict self.
I couldn't help it. I grinned. Little did Clare know that anger was my secret weapon.
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"The boss seems to favor her." The woman whispered quietly, leaning against the wall along with Clare. Out in the distance fire attacks were being shot randomly into the air. The back of Giovanni's head was barely visible as he continued to stand there, carefully watching Kira's battle.
"Duh." Clare replied, rolling her eyes. "Katie, come on. This is Kira. The one we've been searching for. The one with the golden locket."
There was silence for a moment as Clare and Katie gazed out into the distance. Katie then sighed, shattering the silence.
"Yea, I know. But why not just take the thing right now while we've got her? What's the point in making her one of us?" Katie muttered.
"Because we can put her to good use. The boss knows what he's doing. Just look at how good she battles."
"You think I haven't noticed already? It's so darn annoying! I mean, come on... the little brat is only twelve!" Katie spat, glaring at Kira as she ordered yet another attack.
An image of Kira five years old, her horrified pale face full of fear and staring raced through Clare's mind.
"But what the boss told me to tell her is right." Clare replied softly.
"And what was that?"
Silence.
"She has her father's blood in her."
Of course.