A Spy Story


Disclaimer: This is a Pokemon fanfiction; the author makes no claims of ownership of Pokemon. No profit was made in the creation or presentation of this work.


     And so it came to pass that agent Thorndyke of Viridian City police department's special operations, after months of espionage, was about to crack down on Team Rocket. He rushed through the hallway towards the wooden double doors which certainly led to Giovanni's office. He burst into the room.

     "Alright Giovanni, the jig is up!"

     "Ah, Thorndyke, I thought you might come. I've been watching your progress using an ingenius tracking device planted in your right pocket."

     "Yes, I thought you might try something like that. That's why I changed my pants earlier today."

     "I thought you might. That's why I paid your maid to give you those same pants back, while telling you they were different."

     "Just as I thought. That's why it wasn't me changing pants at all. It was really just an old man dressed up like me."

     "It figures. That's why I've had my associates watching you themselves every step of the way."

     "Typical. That's why I had the old man lead them away from my trail."

     "Yes, and I soon realized that, and so I assigned a second team to the task so I could watch the two of you."

     "Not bad, but I still made it to your hideout without being noticed."

     "Oh, I knew you were coming. That's why I lessened my security, so you wouldn't know that I knew."

     "Yes, but I suspected something was amiss. That's why I hired another double to sneak around in the building with me."

     "Well that was obvious. That's why I split my security into two teams, to continue to watch the two of you."

     "That was the plan all along. It made my sneaking that much easier."

     "As would be expected, but my surveillance cameras recorded the whole thing."

     "Oh, I figured you would have cameras. That's why I stopped by the security office and ran recordings of empty hallways to all of the monitors."

     "Hah, like that fooled anyone for long. The cameras also send video to my office here. One phone call to security had things straightened out."

     "Sure. Unfortunately, I tinkered with your phone switch, and so that call actually went to your maid in the laundry room, who I paid to pretend she was on the security team."

     "Of course. That wasn't hard to figure out, since there are no females on the security team. That's why I subsequently sent a memo down the vaccuum tube here."

     "Which I also rerouted to the laundry room."

     "Of course. It was all just a diversion. You were kept busy rerouting things while I had my two security teams seal off every exit and every door, trapping you where you were."

     "Except for the ventilation ducts."

     "Which I conveniently left open, knowing they would be your only means of movement."

     "So that would be why the duct broke away from the ceiling, leaving me to dangle sixty feet above your warehouse floor. But you didn't expect I would survive."

     "But of course I did. While you were preoccupied with your dangling, I went out to fix the phones and vaccuum tubes myself."

     "Clever. Perhaps too clever? For you see, while I had you running around doing maintenance, I called for backup from the Viridian City police department. In fact, here they are now." And lo, the double doors burst open, and two dozen blue-clad officers wearing miniskirts rushed into the room with pokeballs drawn.

     "Ah, yes, the telephone conversation I picked up through the bug I had your maid plant in your left pocket. That's why I took the liberty of reuniting my security force and calling them up here using the newly fixed vaccuum tubes and telephones." And lo, the double doors burst open, and two dozen black-clad rocket thugs in heavy woolen sweaters rushed into the room with pokeballs drawn. The Jennys promptly turned around to face them. "A stalemate, eh? I was not expecting this."

     "Oh, but I was. And the agent I've had hiding behind your statue over there will tip the odds in my favor." One more pokeball-weilding Jenny joined the group.

     "Not bad. But what you didn't know was that I always have two of my own agents stationed behind their respective Aloe plants." Two more pokeball-weilding thugs joined the group.

     "Ah, but you didn't know that--"

     "Enough! Gentlemen, call out your pokemon."

     "Fair enough. Go for it, ladies."

     The room was filled with the deafening sound of fifty-one pokemon being called out, and with the blinding light of fifty-one pokeballs opening, and with the deafening sound of the thin wooden floor cracking. The entire party of one-hundred two plummeted down to the room below, except of course for Giovanni, who sat a comfortable distance away from the collected mass of pokemon and people. He rose to his feet and stepped leisurely over to the brink. He looked down to see a pile of flesh, and Thorndyke still gripping the edge of the hole.

     He pulled a gun from his coat and aimed at Thorndyke's chest. He paused dramatically, then fired. A small explosion, then nothing.

     "Ha, I knew you would try something like that," Thorndyke said. "That's why I'm wearing a metal plate under this shirt."

     "I know you know. That's why this is a mere toy gun, which leaves you needlessly weighted down."

     "What?!" His grip finally slipped, and he joined the groaning pile of bodies.

     Giovanni trudged back to his desk. He opened a drawer and removed a small orange bottle. He shook two small pills into his hand. He was about to swallow them when his phone buzzed. Irritated, he pressed a button. With a click, he was greeted with a tinny male voice.

     "Uh...hi boss. This is--" Another voice cut him off.

     "Wait! We have to do the motto."

     "Oh, right! To protect the w--"

     "Shut up!" Giovanni roared. He pounded the button again, and finished ingesting his painkillers. The phone immediately buzzed again. Click.

     "Hi, uh, Meryl? I was wondering if my uniform is clean yet. Because I have t--" Click.

     So he sat, rubbing his temples and his Persian, and waiting for his headache to fade.


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