Abandoned Power Plant. Archer, short cyan hair, slid his phone into his pocket and stared at the front gate.
"Captain Archer, what are our orders?"
A Rocket elite in black uniform strode up, standing ramrod straight, waiting for Archer's word.
Behind him, a cluster of Rocket elites lined up.
They'd come for one reason: to hunt Kanto's Legendary Bird—Zapdos.
According to an informant, Zapdos came to the Power Plant every year during the heavy rainy season to recharge.
And the team's scientific scans said this was the likeliest time for it to appear.
Overhead, thunderheads pressed low.
If Zapdos showed up, their sheer numbers might be enough to dogpile it to death.
One and done—capture complete.
"By Farfetch'd… that's Zapdos we're talking about…"
The elites whispered behind him.
Just imagining it—seeing Zapdos with their own eyes, even capturing it—had them daydreaming about the future.
From then on, they could tell anyone in Rocket, "I've thrown hands with Zapdos."
Still, before they could grab Zapdos, they needed to clear the Electric-types blocking the door.
"Even if Zapdos doesn't show, bagging a few of these would punch our tickets for promotion, no?"
Staring at the likes of Electabuzz, Raichu, and Magneton—none of them looking weak—the elites rolled their shoulders and licked their lips, fingers tightening on their Poké Balls as they waited.
All talk, no moves.
Team Rocket lived and died by orders from above.
Ranks were rigid.
Low ranks obeyed high ranks.
Until one of the Four Executives—Archer—spoke, no one moved.
Tap, tap, tap…
Archer paced, eyes on the thickening ceiling of cloud. His nerves ticked up a notch.
Lightning flickered behind the curtain of cloud.
Not long now. Zapdos would arrive.
He'd said he was going to rescue Petrel, sure—but what he really wanted was to capture Zapdos first, then go save Petrel.
After all, one man's credit wasn't the same as splitting it in two.
Helping a colleague beat the Dojo Master and capturing Zapdos together wasn't worth as much as catching Zapdos first and then mopping up the Dojo Master afterward.
The latter paid out better.
But…
Archer had heard of Grey.
The S.S. Anne op was wrapped tight—and somehow he still managed to "summon" Lorelei of the Kanto Elite Four.
What was he, the Reinforcement Whisperer?
As for that rumor about Lorelei "just passing by"?
Yeah, right.
Someone tipped her off. Only then could Grey call an Elite Four to the scene.
Which meant Grey had to go.
"Form up. We're going to help Petrel."
Archer yanked a Poké Ball and hurled it skyward.
"Chacha!"
A huge purple bat Pokémon with two pairs of wings appeared. Archer grabbed its claws, picked a bearing, and took off.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
Tearing wind echoed as Flying-types of every stripe flashed into the air. Rocket elites seized their talons and streamed after Archer.
"Swear to follow Team Rocket! Swear to follow Captain Archer!"
Chants snapped in unison. The Pokémon sped up.
Had a bit of a cult vibe to it.
——
"Didn't expect Dojo Master Grey's gift of gab to be that slick. But talk isn't power. In under a week, could your Pokémon really hit Elite-tier?"
Petrel grinned, edging in little steps toward the water.
If he faced Grey head-on, he gave himself maybe a sixty-forty edge. Who knew what dirty surprises this guy might pull.
He and his decoy both kept hands hovering at their belts, waiting for Grey to make the first move.
Two-on-one, and he was Elite-level.
What did Grey have that could possibly match that?
Still—best not to fight if he didn't have to.
Best of all would be to pull Grey over to their side.
"Dojo Master Grey, I was in the wrong last time. I shouldn't have handed you an empty promise."
Petrel pressed a hand to his chest, eyes shimmering as he said, full of feeling, "Look, you already sent me to jail once yourself. We can call it even, right?"
"You and I together—maybe we carve out our own slice of Kanto."
Gritting his teeth like it hurt, Petrel set a Poké Ball on the ground and released the Pokémon inside.
A long, serpentine Pokémon—fins like white wings at either side of its head—coiled on the earth.
Jewelled eyes blinked. It glanced at Petrel and tried to slither toward the water.
Kanto's pseudo-legend, a late bloomer—Dratini.
Same starter line as Lance's ace. A future worth betting on.
"Wuu!" (You rotten crook! Let me go!)
Petrel scooped up the Dratini. It thrashed in his arms, fighting to break free.
"Heh-heh. Look, Dojo Master—this Dratini's lively. Not sickly at all."
"This is the opening stake to buy you a say in Saffron. If you're willing to let bygones be bygones and help Team Rocket 'grow together,' consider this a small, private token."
Petrel sounded very sincere. In his excitement he even plucked the Ditto off his head, as if to lay his truest face bare before Grey.
"Come on—grow with Team Rocket. We'll crush the League together, and you and we will split the Kanto League!"
He painted the biggest picture yet.
The whole of Kanto—divvied up together.
It made Grey's fingers itch.
If he recorded this…
Wouldn't his bounty go up?
He thumbed his phone, quietly started recording, then said to Petrel, "Thing is, the wind's pretty loud—I didn't catch that. Could you repeat it?"
"…?"
Petrel's pupils tightened.
But seeing the "confusion" in Grey's eyes, he grit his teeth and nodded. "Fine. I'll say it again."
"Dojo Master Grey, last time I was in the wrong…"
"…and you and we will split the Kanto League!"
"Perfect. Exactly that. Once I arrest you, my payout should be higher. Thanks, Mr. Petrel, you're a peach. When you're in the little black room, I'll bring you something nice."
"Grey! You little— you set me up?!"
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