Pokemon: Radical Redux

Ash walked down the hallway, with the lead grunt guiding him. The other two grunts followed behind, walking on either side of him.

As he walked, he saw a lot more grunts than before. It was strange, especially since the cafeteria had been empty, but he was starting to understand what was happening.

When they reached the room, the grunts stopped at the door and gestured for Ash to go in. Ash didn't have much of a choice. He stepped inside, and the door closed behind him.

Inside the room, a few people were already gathered. Sitting in the center chair behind the desk was the Masked Man, fully clad in his mask and black cloak.

Standing behind him were two familiar figures, Carl and Sham. Ash glanced to the side of the room. She had ended up here… and these two had escaped capture.

And finally, in the corner of the room, stood someone Ash didn't expect, Archer. But he was wearing one of the Masked Man's masks. In case you've forgotten, those masks contain mind-control tech. Which meant Archer was under the Masked Man's control.

Despite what he saw, Ash kept his face neutral. Most of it was hidden under a scarf, just for this reason. He looked forward and spoke in a monotone voice.

"You called for me, sir?"

The Masked Man didn't respond right away. He simply tapped his gloved fingers together, elbows resting on the desk, as if weighing D's very existence in his hands.

Carl and Sham flanked either side of the desk, standing just a little too tall, too stiff, and yet somehow too casual. Archer stood like a lifeless doll.

"Agent D," the Masked Man finally said, his voice calm and distorted by the mask's voice changer. "Your performance in the field has been noted. You have yet to fail a mission."

"I do what I can," Ash replied, watching everyone's movements closely.

The Masked Man held something in his hand, another mask. He didn't mention it at first.

"Yes," he continued. "You've proven quite valuable. That is why I called you here. Valuable people shouldn't have to waste their time with the inferior members."

Ash said nothing. He remained silent as the Masked Man went on.

"I find myself short one Executive. My fourth… let's say has been eliminated. Out of the picture. I need a replacement. So, how would you like to be one of my Executives?"

Ash didn't answer immediately. He kept his hands folded in front of him.

The Masked Man leaned forward slightly. "Do you understand what I'm offering, Agent D? Authority. Access. Power. No more crawling through ducts or babysitting grunts. I could give you anything in my power. Just name it."

Ash's eyes flicked briefly to the mask in the Masked Man's hand. It was different from the standard grunt model, custom-built. Instead of covering half the face vertically, this one covered the lower half entirely.

"That's… a lot to consider," Ash said carefully, his voice still neutral.

Carl chuckled, tilting his head. "You'd be a fool to say no. You've already proven you're more competent than most of the trash around here."

Sham tilted her head as well, her gaze unnervingly sharp. "Unless… you're afraid of the responsibility?"

Ash didn't take the bait. His tone remained flat, almost bored. "I'm not afraid of anything. But I know better than to accept a promotion without knowing the fine print."

The Masked Man chuckled softly, mechanically, thanks to the voice modulator. "Smart. I appreciate caution in my agents. But understand this, refusal is not… wise."

He didn't need to spell out the threat. This wasn't a question.

He picked up the mask again and looked directly at D.

"You know," he said, "I read your report. What happened to your face… it's a shame. But I could help you."

He stood up and walked slowly forward. His footsteps echoed, sharp clicks against the hard floor, until he stood in front of Ash.

"I read that you're only after money for surgery, to repair your face. Well, I can give you that. And so much more. But only after my plans are complete."

Then he lifted the mask and held it out. "And as a sign of goodwill, I made this for you. I even custom-designed it to fit your aesthetic," he said, lying as easily as he breathed. "Why don't you try it on?"

Ash took the mask and examined it. It was a half-mask, but not in the usual way. Unlike the standard white ones, this one was black, matching his outfit perfectly. It was clearly made to appeal to him. But he could also tell… this wasn't an ordinary mask. The moment he put it on, he'd be under mind control, or at least, that's what the Masked Man thought.

Ash looked up at him, then calmly set the mask down.

"Sorry, but I have to refuse. I don't want that kind of commitment. I'm already close enough to my goal. Just one more year and I'll have enough money. I'll probably leave Team Rocket after that."

For a moment, the room was dead silent.

Carl's expression flattened. Sham's smile sharpened, her eyes flicking toward the Masked Man like she was waiting for permission. Even Archer, blank and unmoving in the corner, somehow seemed more unsettling now.

The Masked Man didn't move, at first.

Then slowly, he placed the mask back on the desk with a soft, deliberate clack. His gloved hands folded together once more.

"That," he said, "was the wrong answer."

Ash didn't flinch. "It was the honest one."

"You misunderstand," the Masked Man said quietly, his voice disturbingly calm. "I wasn't giving you a choice, Agent D."

"Well," Ash said, opening his eyes slowly, "I don't really recall caring. I guess all the Fs I give blew off along with my face."

"Hm. A shame, really. I don't like getting my hands dirty for things like this."

The Masked Man stepped back and snapped his fingers.

"Maybe you should start seeing things my way."

Carl and Sham stepped forward, hands going to their Poké Ball belts. Archer turned, reaching for one of his as well.

"Oh, so you're gonna jump me? Really?" Ash exhaled sharply and cracked his neck. "Well, looks like I have no choice but to use my ultimate technique, the one passed down by my ancestors."

The Masked Man narrowed his eyes. "Oh? And what is that? You think you can fight your way out?"

"No," Ash said.

—

Outside the door, two grunts stood guard, not doing much.

One looked over lazily. "So… how's the divorce going?"

But before the awkward conversation could continue, D burst through the door, drop-kicked the same grunt, used his body as a platform, and vaulted down the hallway at a full sprint.

For a moment, the Masked Grunts stood in stunned confusion.

Then the Masked Man strode out of the office, cloak billowing, and pointed after him.

"All grunts under my command, I have a new mission. Capture Agent D!"

Ash sprinted down the corridor, coat flaring behind him, scarf whipping with each stride. The alarms hadn't gone off yet, but he knew it was only a matter of seconds before the entire base lit up like a Christmas tree.

Behind him, the hallway door burst open with a mechanical hiss, and the echo of thundering boots followed.

"Target is fleeing! Mobilize all units!" one grunt barked into his comm.

Ash ducked into a sharp turn, narrowly dodging a clipboard-wielding admin. He raised his arm and elbowed a grunt square in the nose, snatching the clipboard and then hurling the grunt's body forward to knock over three more.

As he ran, he spotted one big grunt blocking a door. Without slowing down, Ash hurled the clipboard like a dart. It smacked the grunt in the nose, making him wince and instinctively close his eyes. In that moment, Ash extended his arm, and a Muk tentacle shot out from his sleeve, grabbed the grunt by the head, and slammed him into the wall.

But just as he did that, a burst of fire zipped past, he dodged left, barely avoiding an [Ember] attack from one of the grunts' Pokémon. They were starting to use their Pokémon now.

Ash kept running.

You might wonder why he wasn't using his own Pokémon, why he hadn't just teleported out with Hypno. Well, there's a reason for that… but there's no time to explain right now. All of his Pokémon were in their Poké Balls. Only Muk was out, half-hidden in his sleeve. And even then, Ash wasn't using him as much as he could.

Instead, he kept moving and yanked out his phone.

He needed to make a call.

-

Back in the office, smoke and dust still swirled through the air. The Masked Man stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed behind his emotionless mask.

"He's faster than I gave him credit for," Sham muttered, brushing ash off her coat.

Carl cracked his knuckles. "Still stupid, though. One man against this whole base?"

The Masked Man turned toward Archer, who had frozen mid-reach, still blank-faced under the mind-control mask.

"Archer, initiate Protocol Fennel. He'll try to reach the lower hangar. Shut down all access points… except Gate C."

"Understood," Archer said flatly, turning and striding away like a machine.

The Masked Man turned to Carl and Sham. "You two. With me."

"Yes, sir!" they said in unison and moved to follow him, boots echoing down the corridor.

—

{Meanwhile...}

Anabel had woken up a few days ago, recovering from her injuries in the ship incident. Her ears were still bandaged, but she'd been lucky, she'd used some of her psychic powers to shield them in time, sparing herself from permanent damage.

She'd had several visitors since then, some high-ranking officials, others who were on the ship with her, wishing her well and encouraging her to rest as long as needed. Her Espeon hadn't left her side once, curled up faithfully in her lap day and night.

But of course, the one who visited the most was Looker. They were partners, and he was the closest thing she had to a father figure.

Looker had explained everything that happened after she lost consciousness. A second prison ship had arrived, rescuing the crew and collecting the captured Team Rocket members. The ship they were on had been sinking, but Looker and the others had managed to prevent it from being blown up.

But he also confirmed what Anabel already suspected. The only ones who escaped were Carl and Sham. The only ones they had to stop.

Anabel sighed. Today, finally, she would be discharged. She had traded her hospital gown for her usual outfit, it felt more normal, like a layer of safety wrapped around her.

There was a knock at the door.

Looker stepped in, a cup of coffee in one hand and a worn file folder in the other. His trench coat was more wrinkled than usual, and there were bags under his eyes.

"Morning, sunshine," he said with a half-smile. "You sure you're up for leaving today?"

"I've been up for hours," Anabel replied, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I can't sit in that bed any longer. Besides, we need to get back to work. Carl and Sham are still out there."

Looker frowned, but handed her the file. "Figured you'd say that. But promise me you'll take it slow. You're no good to anyone if you push yourself too hard."

"Right… so, any call from… him?" Anabel asked.

Looker smirked. "Ha, don't tell me you were expecting D to send you flowers and a get-well-soon card. Sorry, but no."

Anabel blushed and punched Looker on the shoulder. "Not like that! I swear, you sound like him now. I meant, did he give us any leads on where Carl and Sham went?"

Looker sighed and shook his head. "The answer's still no. You know you're usually the one he calls, but I haven't gotten any calls either."

Anabel sighed. "I see…" She still remembered D's warning before she lost signal. He had seemed more worried than usual, at least, his tone of voice had.

As she was thinking, her phone suddenly started to ring, shaking her from her thoughts. She held it up and looked at the screen, it was D's number again. Anabel frowned and showed it to Looker. He nodded and moved to the door to keep watch through the window.

Anabel tried not to look like she'd just woken up from a coma as she answered. "It's about time, D. So what do you have for us?"

But what came through wasn't what they expected. They heard panting, and the sound of footsteps.

"Hey, darling. Sorry I couldn't send you any flowers."

Anabel froze, her brain catching up to the voice. It was D, his voice tight and low between panting breaths, like he was running for his life.

"D? What's going on?" she asked, more concerned than she wanted to sound.

Looker turned at the tone in her voice and stepped closer.

"Hehe, sorry darling, but I'm being chased down by the boss of the Johto branch, along with every grunt under his control right now," D said between breaths, just as they heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh.

"What? D-did they find out you've been helping us and leaking information?!"

"No… this isn't about that."

Anabel's grip on the phone tightened. "Then what is this about?"

"Sorry, darling. I can't go into specifics, I am being chased down," D said, followed by a grunt and the sound of something being kicked. "The fastest way I can put it is, the boss here, he wants me to work for him. Directly."

"What do you mean by that?" Anabel mumbled. When D didn't immediately answer, she raised her voice. "What do you mean?!"

"He's using mind control," D said and both Looker and Anabel felt their blood run cold.

Looker leaned toward the phone. "Mind control? Are you serious? Why? How? When? How many Team Rocket members are innocent people who just got forced into this?!"

"I wish I could tell you everything I know, but I don't have time, and I don't have all the answers either. Looks like this is the end of the line for me. I've barricaded myself, but they're getting closer," D said, giving a humorless chuckle.

"No, don't say that! Where are you? We can pick you up, put you into witness protection or something! Just tell us!" Anabel nearly screamed into the phone, though she kept her voice low. They were still in a hospital, and if anyone heard, it'd be hard to explain.

"Sorry, darling. No can do," D said as the sound of people slamming on a door echoed behind him. "Looks like it's too late for me. I'm sorry we couldn't share that cake I promised."

"Shut up…" Anabel managed to mumble. "Don't say that… We can still help you. Like you helped us… like you helped me," she whispered, remembering what had happened in just one year, D helping her recover her memories, helping at the Battle Tower, and everything with Aster and the other Rocket members.

"Sorry. But I do wish we had one last dance, darling. I'm going to send you the last bit of information I can… then I'm going to destroy my phone. If they find it, they could find out about you guys…"

Anabel bit her lip, blinking back the sting in her eyes as D's voice started breaking up with static. Her hands trembled slightly, even as she gripped the phone tighter.

"D… please, just tell me where—"

"I'll send the files… you'll know what to do," he interrupted. The sound of fists pounding grew louder, something metal creaking under pressure. "Tell Looker to keep his coat clean. And Anabel… enjoy the future for me."

Then—BOOM.

A loud crashing noise rang out from the phone's speaker, followed by shouting, muffled grunts, and then… silence.

"D?!" Anabel shouted, her voice cracking. "D!"

But there was nothing. The line went dead.

She stared at the phone in stunned silence, her own reflection in the black screen staring back. Her legs nearly gave out, and she gripped the edge of the hospital bed to steady herself.

Looker placed a hand on her shoulder, but said nothing. Moments later, a file appeared on the phone, named only: 'last dance'.

Anabel didn't understand why she cared so much. D was part of Team Rocket. She should be happy… right?

And yet, the sting in her eyes returned. But she refused to let the tears fall. She took a breath and turned away.

"Looker, we have more work to do…"

Looker watched her retreating back, frowning with concern. He didn't stop her. But he knew things had just become a lot more complicated.

Meanwhile, as Anabel stepped out of the room, she quickly checked that the hallway was empty. Once alone, she leaned back against the wall, covered her mouth with her hand, and muffled her sobs. The tears came anyway, and this time, she let them.

—-

{Back with Ashtwo}

Ash was captured. Both his arms were being held behind him, but not before he'd left about fifty grunts with a few broken bones.

The Masked Man emerged from around a corner, flanked by Carl and Sham, surveying the scene with a casual air.

"Hm. Not bad. I'm almost impressed," the Masked Man said as he approached. "But there was really no need for all this."

Ash glared up at him. "Then tell these two to let me go, and I'll show you how much more I can do."

"No, I don't believe I will," the Masked Man replied coolly, now standing in front of D.

"You should've just accepted when I made you the offer. Would've made things easier. You were never going to escape."

He reached into his coat and pulled out the mask.

Carl circled around and yanked down D's scarf, revealing his scarred face.

"Ugh. No wonder you hide your face under that scarf," Carl muttered.

"Idiot. Didn't you even read his file?" Sham rolled her eyes. "He was caught in a gunpowder explosion. Of course his face is nearly destroyed. If anything, the Boss is doing him a favor giving him that mask."

The Masked Man stared down at D, who continued to glare up defiantly.

"Yes… maybe in the end, I am just doing you a favor. So stop resisting. You've already lost."

He slowly brought the mask closer. The two grunts holding D forced his head still so he couldn't move.

The mask was pressed onto his lower face. D stopped struggling. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes vacant.

"What is your order, Boss?" he asked.

The Masked Man's face was unreadable behind his own mask. He gave a slow nod, "Better. You are now my fourth Executive. You take orders from me. Understood?"

"Yes. It shall be done," D responded with a mechanical nod.

"Good. Then resume whatever mission you were on." The Masked Man turned and began to walk away. The grunts released him and dispersed. Carl and Sham lingered only a moment.

Carl smirked. "Welcome to the club~" Then the two of them followed the others.

Ash watched them go, And beneath the mask, he smiled, a wide, toothy grin.

Everything was going according to plan.

He could have fought back. Muk was hidden up his sleeve, ready. He had other Pokémon. He could've even teleported away with Hypno. But he didn't. Because he wanted to get caught.

All he had to do was make the act convincing.

As for the mind control? Why would it work on a clone?

This body was synthetic. There was nothing real to control.

And everything... was going exactly as planned.