Chapter 54: The Sleazy.
#54 of Pokemon Rangers 2: Eddies: A pokemon story.
Many things about the entire situation remain confusing, even to this day.
As an example, after the initial fallout following their arrival had subsided, where did the creatures go? Given only speculation remains as to their eventual fate, was the government involved, or had they simply vanished as mysteriously as they arrived?
Or are they living amongst us still, hidden from the prying eyes of the general populace by those sworn to protect them?
Perhaps we'll never know, just as it's as unlikely we'll ever be told the real truth as to their mysterious presence in our world. The government has covered it up, the people involved remain mute, and the creatures themselves; these pokemon; are the biggest enigma of the lot.
At least their presence here has answered one important question that's plagued humanity since the dawn of its creation.
We are not alone.
Perhaps we never have been.
Eddies
Chapter 54: Not quite the Bates Hotel.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Eddies 54
"It wasn't a request, General. I want you off this property within the next forty eight hours."
"Or what, Masters? You'll evict us?"
Jobes glared at Paul Masters as the farmer stood before him, arms crossed and a grim expression on his face. In contrast, the General was furious, and it showed; steely eyes glaring at the man who deigned to defy him.
But Paul wasn't fazed, and let a slight smile curl his lip. "Oh, it's very simple, General. My friends and I will remove you."
The General laughed harshly, and gave Paul an incredulous look. "You can't be serious..." he started, but stopped as Paul stepped forward and hissed "I've never been more serious, arsehole. I'm going to give you a choice. Either you leave within the time period specified, or I'm going to take you bastards on with every resource I have. However, understand the repercussions of this. I've already contacted the media, advising them there is a "situation" occurring here, and several are sending journalists and news crews out to investigate. What I'm planning on doing, mate, is give you an audience you're going to be forced to confront, like the performing monkey you are."
With his grim look returning, Paul stepped back and said quietly "I'm going to expose you, General, for the cunt you are. Every dirty little thing you've done here, I'm going to shove square up your arse."
As the General stood, speechless in impotent fury, Paul flicked a cigarette out of its pack, lighting it nonchalantly before returning his gaze to his adversary.
"Now, I'm sure you think you can block this. I'd suggest you think again. We've already sent out comprehensive material to a large number of friends, all of whom have instructions to release it to the world media should anything... untoward... occur here. Photos, video, statements from witnesses; more evidence than you can contemplate glossing over. Anything at all happens here, and I'm going to Wiki leak all over your sorry hide. No matter how hard you try, you'll never stop them all, mate. You have my assurance, I will fuck you up in every way I possibly can, and when I'm finished, you can scrape together whatever minute traces are left of your military career, and go fuck off back down whatever hole you crawled out of."
Tapping his cigarette against a nearby post, Paul watched as the ash dropped into the garden bed below, before he finished. "You've hurt my family, and my friends, with no care for the consequences. Like my son, Jobes, I can't stand a bully, and you're one of the worst. Now it's my turn to return the favour. You have forty eight hours. After that, I'm getting my payback on the lot of you."
Turning away, he dismissed Jobes with another flick of his cigarette, and returned to the farmhouse, leaving a white faced General to pick up the pieces of his operation.
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Cameron knocked on the tacked together door of Jobes trashed office, where he found the General giving orders to his aides regarding the closing down of operations at Darken Ridge. Flanked by a pair of his own officers, Cameron didn't wait for an acknowledgement, but entered and approached the army commander, who halted his discussion to glare at him coldly.
"I have nothing to say to you, apart from the fact you're going to regret this, Marshke." Jobes threatened, as Cameron's support stiffened at the implied threat.
Cameron shrugged, dropping to a chair opposite the general and leaning back casually. "Oh, I very much doubt that, Jobes" he replied, eyeing his officers who settled down, but remained watchful. "In fact, I'm here to make you an offer to salvage what you can from all this."
Dismissing his aides, Jobes leaned back in his chair and laughed harshly. "Oh, that is rich. As if we need your assistance..." he began, only to pause in surprise as Cameron slammed his fist on the general's desk.
"What, are you a fucking imbecile? This operation is history! You've fucked it up from the moment you interfered, made enemies from potential allies, and quite possibly destroyed any chance of a friendly first contact with people from another world! How do you think that's going to look to the powers that be, General? Because, while you and your cronies might think to shelter from the fallout, nothing is going to stop this getting out now! I'm here to try and see if we can scrape something positive together from this dog's breakfast you've created, and all you can think of is to threaten me, too? You're a fool!"
The General didn't reply for a long moment, letting Cameron wind himself down. Finally, he beckoned his aides back into the room, giving Cameron a long, cold stare, and said "If you've finished, I have things to do. This isn't over until I say it's over!"
Cameron sighed, getting slowly to his feet and turned from the stubborn fool. "No, Jobes. I'm not the one whose finished here. You've made this nest you've shit so thoroughly in. Now live in it!"
Nodding to his officers, the trio left the room, as Jobes shot a hate filled look at his retreating back. But once Cameron had gone, he turned to his aides and muttered "Get me the staff sergeant on duty. I want the men ready to depart at a moment's notice."
Leaning back as his staff left, his hands balled into fists which he slammed on the table, and hissed "No, you police fool. This is a long way from being finished! This isn't ending until I say it's ending!"
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Cameron joined Paul on the rear deck of the farmhouse, where he declined a beer, instead accepting the offer of a coffee from Gwen, who headed back into the kitchen for it.
Turning to the farmer, Cameron could only shake his head at the questioning look, which was all the confirmation the farmer needed. Paul sighed, rubbing his face and sat back against the padded seat cushion.
"It's going to be a real shit fight, isn't it?" the farmer asked, and was unsurprised at the Police Commissioners wry nod.
"He won't back down now, Paul. He'll throw everything he has at those guys now, including your sons I'm afraid."
Paul sighed again, taking a long pull from his beer. "No accounting for stupid." he muttered, grinning suddenly as Cameron let out a bark of laughter.
"Military sometimes breeds this sort of idiocy into them. I've checked out Jobes history thoroughly, through my own contacts. The reason he's out here, instead of commanding proper military deployment, is his own department is sick of dealing with him. His xenophobic and bigoted attitude had him removed from command in Afghanistan, and they'd thought to send him off out here on a wild goose chase to get him out of their hair. It's just pure bad luck we're now dealing with him, and not someone more reasonable."
Paul considered the reply sombrely. "So, can his superiors stop him making this an even bigger mess?"
Cameron shook his head. "Not likely. He's a loose cannon, and by the time they really get wind of how bad this situation truly is, it'll be too late. We're on our own, I'm afraid."
Sighing, Paul muttered "What about from your end? Can we expect any further assistance?"
Cameron nodded, gripping him on the shoulder. "Everything I have, my friend. But it's going to get messy, you understand?"
Chuckling suddenly, Paul grinned at the police officer. "With Raikou and his brothers, not to mention those Rangers as Jobes' adversary, I think messy is going to be the understatement of the century. Still, if there was anyone I'd trust to protect Chris and Jimmy, it's that lot."
Accepting his coffee from Gwen, who returned with a steaming mug and saucer, Cameron nodded. "I'm pooling all my resources now, and calling in every favour I can. Whatever Jobes has planned, I intend to make sure it's made as public as possible."
Gwen sighed, receiving a sympathetic look from Cameron. "If it's any consolation, Gwen, I'd trust those Rangers with my life. The kids will be as safe as possible, and I know that Raikou and his friends will be right there for them too. They're in good hands. Err, paws!"
Still, he turned away and left the pair quietly, as Gwen buried her face in her husband's shoulder, sobbing deeply.
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Chris, Jimmy and Skyy lay against Raikou's flank as the jostling truck hit another pot hole, threatening to send them flying across the timber flooring yet again. Azil had earlier chosen to return to his pokéball after turning a rather unflattering shade of green as the rocking truck made him increasingly nauseous.
Scott had joined Rodney in the cab, trying to make sense of the maps the aboriginal man had provided of the city towards which they were headed. It was still daunting for the Ranger to come to grips with the size of the place. Just contemplating nearly five million people crammed into one urban centre had him bewildered, and Rodney gave him a wry look as he pointed a long finger at the map, stabbing the area Scott had been searching for.
"Big place, Sydney" he said quietly, tracing his finger across the paper surface before poking it again near the margin of the map. "Gonna take us a few hours to get there, especially if we go on a walkabout tour to try avoiding those guys lookin' for us."
Scott nodded absently, following their route with his own finger. They'd been travelling several hours already without rest, and the Ranger could only guess at how exhausted the group in the back were getting. With the goal so near, he was reluctant to risk giving their opponents any further opportunity to plan their attack, which could only work against the group.
Still, there was no point in tackling the company when exhaustion would rob them of their edge, so he gave the nod for Rodney to pull into a shabby looking highway hotel/motel, where the truck could be effectively hidden from passing eyes behind the dilapidated concrete block structure.
The manager, as shabby as his complex, wasn't pleased to be woken so late to process guests, but he brightened when Scott, with the assistance of Chris, booked four entire rooms. Handing out the keys, Scott filled in the registry book with a fabricated address, glad that the man hadn't asked for ID. Then again, looking at the water stained carpeting and mildew-streaked peeling wallpaper of the rooms they'd been given, it was probably the sort of place that anonymity was the norm.
Smuggling the legendary pokémon into a room sight unseen was difficult, but they managed it without being caught out. A surprised human had stumbled onto them as the three circled from the back of the building to squeeze into the shabby room interior, but while the man's eyes widened, he simply stumbled drunkenly away, taking a long pull from his brown bagged bottle of bourbon before throwing the remainder away in disgust for causing such lucid hallucinations.
Pink elephants were one thing, but giant furry monsters were simply too much!
Rodney joined Scott and Storm in the second room, while Chris and his brother were left with the third. Bill waved goodnight as he and Shadow slipped past the group into the last room, and they finally all retired for the night.
Jimmy jumped on the bed several times, before dropping to his back side, laying back heavily with a sigh. Chris sat on his own bed more gingerly, eyeing the shabby looking sheets and quilt cover somewhat dubiously. They looked clean enough, but he didn't hold any delusions that such cleanliness could be deceiving, given the nature of what likely occurred in these sorts of places.
Releasing Skyy, who seemed to share his concerns with the health and safety of the bedding, they dropped back to sit facing his brother, as Jimmy let loose Azil, who gave the room a snort of disgust. But when the younger pair were distracted by the cheap CRT television huddled in the corner, Chris gave his friend a hug, surprising the lucario who was quick enough to return the favour.
"Didn't go for the big spend on luxury accommodation, did he?" Skyy joked, as he dropped back to lie spreadeagled on top of the sheets, before giggling as Chris poked him in the furry belly.
"Consider yourself fortunate there's even a mattress here. I thought we'd be huddling out in a field somewhere!"
Sniggering, Skyy curled up beside him, before wrinkling his nose involuntarily. Surprised, Chris sniffed himself, cringing at the rank sweat and cattle stench that came from his shirt. The truck had been bloody hot, not to mention disgustingly filthy. While some attempt to wash out the cattle stink had obviously been made, the smell lingered unpleasantly, and Chris rose, reaching into his duffel for a change of clothing and underwear, as well as a towel and his toiletries bag. Poking the lucario again, he made for the grimy bathroom, but was surprised as Skyy reached for another towel.
"Jimmy's just there!" Chris hissed worriedly, but didn't object further as Skyy followed him into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
"He's a big boy, and not as naive as you think, Chris. I overheard Azil talking to him about us over a week ago, telling him a whole lot of stuff that would likely make you blush furiously. Pokémon don't worry about that sort of crap like you humans; I've told you that before! Given I still need someone to clean my back, and you certainly need someone to wash yours, I think they'll be fine on their own for a while!"
Spluttering, Chris didn't stand a chance as the lucario pushed him into the shower cubicle, drawing the curtain closed behind them.
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An early morning shriek from the adjacent unit sent Scott staggering from his bed, leaving a confused typhlosion blinking from where they'd been sleeping. Glancing at the clock while he struggled with his shorts, he tripped over the boots he'd left on the floor the night before, landing hard on his side and knocking the wind from himself.
"Rawwwrrrr...what?" growled the typhlosion, blinking large red yes in the darkness, even as his burners let off a shot of steam at the rude awakening.
"Fuck...dunno!" coughed out his partner, still struggling to get his feet into his pants, while his battered lungs battled for breath.
Storm made the unit doorway before him, but he paused before opening it, giving his partner a nod. Rodney emerged from the adjacent room, white teeth and wide eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness, making the filthy windows and drawing the curtain aside, squinting into the darkness. Leaving the safety catch attached, Storm opened the door a slit, pushing one eye against the crack as he gazed out at whatever, or whomever, was making all the noise.
On the ground outside, huddled against the veranda pillar and sheltering behind her overturned cleaning cart, a human in a blue dress cowered, crying out in a language unknown to those within, and making genuflections towards the next room.
Eyes wide, Storm gave Scott a confused look, shrugging as he said "Can't understand a fucking word she's spouting! What's that she speaking? Idiot?"
Chuckling despite himself, Rodney interrupted "Sounds like Italian, or Greek. Certainly Mediterranean."
Stunned, the typhlosion turned to him and said "You understand that gobbledegook?"
Shaking his head, Rodney flashed him a smile. "No, bro. But seen enough movies to get an idea what it sounds like."
Having finally dressed himself into some semblance of decency, Scott joined Storm, slipping the catch on the door to have a better look. "The way she's carrying on, she'll wake the entire damn unit complex! Shit, I bet she went in next door to clean, not knowing the room was occupied! I'll see if I can go shut her the hell up!"
When Storm made to follow, he pushed the protesting pokémon back in the room, praying the cleaning woman hadn't seen him. "Stay inside, furball!" he hissed, shutting the door in his surprised fuzzy face.
Rolling his eyes as he imagined her further yells when comforted by a misguided typhlosion, Scott stepped to the woman, squatting down beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder, causing her to yelp in panic as she rounded on him. Whether it was the look of reassurance he gave, or the calm grip on her arm, she stopped yelling and pointed a shaking finger at the room shared by the legendaries, stuttering "Mostri! Ci sono mostri dentro!"
Scott groaned inwardly as he caught a light flicking on in the managers apartment from the corner of his eye, but tried making sense of her words. She'd clearly walked in on the three legendaries, who thank Arceus hadn't left the room after her. Still, all they needed was a further problem to handle.
A tap on his arm had him whirl, to confront Chris, who stood bleary eyed behind him. Skyy at least was smart enough not to have followed, and the Ranger gave Chris a shrug, not knowing how to handle the woman.
To his amazement, Chris dropped before her and began talking in a language that sounded similar to her own.
"Calmati! Sei andato in quella stanza?" _ (Calm down! Did you go into that room?)_
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Giving Chris a wide eyed look, she nodded vigorously and said "Sì! Dovuto pulire, ci sono andato e c'erano i mostri!" (Yes! I had to clean, and I went in there, and there were monsters!)
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Reaching out, Chris rested a hand on her own, and tried to reassure her "Mi dispiace, ma sono i costumi. Molto realistico." (I am sorry, but they are costumes. Very realistic.)
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Unconvinced, she stared uncomprehendingly. "Ma si muovono! Li ho visti!" (But they move! I saw them!)
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He shrugged, giving her a smile. "Hanno macchine in loro! Computer. Li fa muovere!" (They have machines in them! Computers. Makes them move!)
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Waving her arms towards the room, she protested "Ma erano così reale! Ero molto spaventata!" (But they were so real! I was very frightened!)
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Chris nodded. "Lo so. Siamo spiacenti. Non sapevamo che stavi per pulire e metterli lì sicuro ieri notte. Non vogliamo lasciarli nel camion, se essi sono stati rubati." (I know. We are sorry. We didn't know you were going to clean, and put them there safe last night. We didn't want to leave them in the truck if they were stolen.)
Sighing, she put her face in her hands and stammered "Capisco! Mi dispiace per fare tante storie." (I see! I am sorry for making such a fuss.)
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Chris laughed, giving her a broad smile, that was tentatively returned. "Non è un problema. Basta lasciare la stanza da solo finchè ci lascia, per favore." (Not a problem. Just leave the room alone till we leave, please.)
With the situation apparently under control, Scott turned his attention to the manager, who bore down on the group, an angry look on his face for being woken up early. Scott stepped in front of him, blocking off his access to the pair still in conversation behind him.
"What's the bloody problem!" the man shouted, gesturing wildly at the cleaner, causing the Ranger to narrow his eyes at him.
"She got a fright when she saw some robotic costumes we'd hung up in the room to air" Scott fabricated, inwardly wincing at what the legendary's might say if they'd overheard him.
"That crazy woman! If it's not one thing, it's another!" Raising his fist, he leaned past the Ranger to yell at her "I've a mind to...."
But what mind he had froze, as Bill, who had slipped up behind them in his police uniform, grabbed his shoulder in a vice like grip, dragging the startled man to face him, as he said ominously "I'd be very careful what you say now, my friend. She had a shock. It's understandable, given the circumstances. Now, no one was hurt, so how about we all go get some sleep?"
The manager nodded vigorously, shocked to find himself face to face with the police, and Bill released him, letting him rise as he patted him heavily on the shoulder where he'd gripped him.
"Yeah... I... uh... You're going today, later, aren't you?" the manager stammered, and Scott, who'd been watching, nodded abruptly.
"We'll be gone, and you can get back to running this place in peace. That'd be best for everyone."
With his head nodding hard enough to make his body shake, the manager backed off, as Chris finished talking to the cleaning woman, who seemed to have accepted his story somewhat dubiously.
"Robotic costumes?" Chris said, trying to avoid breaking out in laughter, as Bill snorted in amusement.
Scott shrugged, and shot him a grin. "It worked, didn't it? Now, let this woman go back to her job, and you and I will check out the "costumes" to see how they're fairing."
Chuckling, they left the bemused cleaner to continue her rounds, and entered the room in question, reassuring the bemused occupants they were not, in fact, in any way animatronic.
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Authors note:
Shit. Had a odd time of it lately.
How you can have writers block when you have the plot summary already worked out is odd, but I've had a hard time getting back to this chapter. Plus, works been a bitch, as has been the work I've been doing at home.
Not going to change in the near future, unfortunately, so things might be a bit sporadic for a while. But it will progress, I promise.