Ash and the gang were chilling on the ship. It had been a few days, and they'd started to cover up more. Yellow had put on her long pants again and wrapped a scarf mottled like a Doduo around her neck.
Misty zipped up her hoodie and put on some boots, along with actually keeping her pants on. Brock had thrown on a fluffy coat and zipped it up. Ash was fine; he just zipped up his hoodie.
Eventually, they reached the edge of a town near Mahogany Town. The first thing they noticed was that it was snowing hard. That was normal for the time of year, but the problem was that toward the mountain, it was snowing even harder.
"Huh, I guess it's that time of year again…" Brock mumbled.
"Yeah, but the snow does always look pretty," Yellow said as she watched Chuchu and Pikachu jump into the snow and play around.
Vee looked at the snow and tried to touch it, but he immediately shivered and jumped back to Ash, snuggling inside his hoodie with him. "Vee…"
Ash just sighed. "Yeah, I don't know what I expected. This is your first time being in snow, right?"
"Vee-Vee!" Vee nodded.
"Well, I'm just glad we're here and don't have to go up that mountain. Seriously, it looks like a bad Ice Age movie," Misty said, shivering at the thought. "At least we get to stay nice and warm here. Speaking of which, let's go, come on!" She took Yellow's hand and pulled her along, waving for the boys to follow.
Ash and Brock looked at each other at her comment.
"Who's gonna tell her?" Ash asked.
"If I do it, she'll kick me in the stomach. You do it."
Ash crossed his arms. "No, I've got my no-hit run going. I'm not gonna lose it just because you don't want to."
He meant a no-hit streak from Misty, she hadn't hit him in over a year.
"Rock, paper, scissors?" Brock held out his hand.
Ash held out his. "Deal."
They both counted together. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"
Brock had scissors. Ash had paper.
Ash groaned. "Nooo! Why do you always pick rock? It's in your name. It's in your blood."
"And I knew you'd think that. That's why I changed it, so you're stuck in it," Brock said smugly, planting his hands on his waist like he just won a championship.
Yellow, a few steps ahead with Misty, turned around and tilted her head. "Are you two coming?"
Misty, already tugging Yellow toward a small inn at the town's edge, called back, "What's the holdup? We're gonna get hot cocoa!"
Ash shoved his hands into his pockets, grumbling. "Fine, I'll tell her after the hot chocolate. No point ruining the mood now."
Brock gave him a thumbs-up. "Smart man."
They followed the girls into the inn, the warmth inside a sharp contrast to the biting cold outside. Pikachu and Chuchu shook off the snow at the door, while Vee poked his head out from Ash's hoodie, eyes wide at the roaring fireplace.
Inside, the innkeeper, an elderly woman with thick glasses and a wide smile, waved them in.
"You're lucky you made it today, dears. Weather's turning worse up by Ice Path. We're expecting a blizzard tomorrow night. Come sit down, I'll get you some nice hot chocolate."
Brock and Ash inhaled deeply, and Ash looked like he wanted to shrink. Of course they needed to move through the blizzard. Why wouldn't they? Things were already bad enough with Ash stressing about what might or might not happen with Pryce. Now he had to hope he didn't get knocked out.
He just hoped Misty had mercy.
Misty was busy pulling off her boots and laughing as Yellow flopped into an armchair.
"Ahh, this is perfect! We can relax here all night, no worries, right Ash?"
Ash scratched the back of his neck, exchanging a glance with Brock.
"Uh… yeah, about that…"
But just then, the innkeeper set down four steaming mugs of cocoa on their table, the scent of cinnamon filling the air.
Misty practically beamed. "Best trip ever!"
Ash deflated. "…I'll tell her after cocoa."
Brock patted his shoulder sympathetically. "You're just delaying the inevitable."
"Let's go shopping for snow gear later today, alright…" Ash mumbled as he sat down in another chair.
Misty, holding her cocoa with both hands, looked over at Ash and smiled.
"Hey, you okay over there? You should be happy! We're not on the road, we're inside and warm for once."
Ash forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, I know… just thinking."
Yellow peeked over the edge of her mug. "Thinking about what?"
Brock, snickering behind his drink, muttered, "About how to break bad news without getting hit."
Ash shot him a sharp look, mouthing, Dude, not now!
But Misty narrowed her eyes. "What bad news?"
Ash froze. Vee, still tucked inside his hoodie, peeked out nervously.
Misty set her mug down and crossed her arms. "Ash…?"
Ash rubbed the back of his head.
"Okay, okay. Technically… we're gonna have to cross Ice Path tomorrow to reach Mahogany Town. You know, the route through the mountains. Through the… uh, blizzard."
Misty's eyes widened. "WHAT?!"
Yellow winced and ducked behind her mug. Brock braced himself, already turning slightly away.
Ash put up his hands. "Hey! Hey! I didn't make the map! Don't hit me!"
Misty let out a long, frustrated groan, falling back into her chair dramatically.
"Ughhhh… why is it always us with the crazy weather, the caves, the dangerous stuff? Can't we just… I don't know… take a train or something?!"
Brock, trying to calm things down, offered,
"We'll go into town this afternoon, get snow gear, crampons, thermal wraps, whatever we need. We'll be okay."
Yellow brightened a little. "We could even get special boots for Pikachu and Chuchu!"
"Pika!" Pikachu hopped up eagerly, shaking his little paws. Chuchu squeaked in agreement.
Misty sighed, taking a deep breath, "…Fine. But you", she pointed at Ash, "are carrying half my stuff if I have to drag myself through waist-deep snow."
"Yeah, yeah, alright, Mist," Ash shrugged. He was just happy she didn't immediately try to punch him.
Brock stretched and stood up. "Alright, cocoa break's over. Let's hit the town before the storm locks us in."
Yellow bounced up excitedly.
"Let's find scarves that match! And mittens! And maybe cute earmuffs—"
Ash groaned. "Please, no earmuffs…"
Misty laughed, grabbing his arm. "Too late, Ash. You're officially on shopping duty."
Ash sighed. "Fine, I'll get you guys some earmuffs…" but he smiled anyway, "Let's go shopping before the snow picks up so we're ready to leave tomorrow. Sound good?"
Everyone nodded, well, except Pikachu and Chuchu, who wanted to stay behind for… reasons, So they left them in the inn, curled up by the fire and happily watching the snow fall.
—
{Meanwhile}
Anabel and Looker were sitting on edge.
Anabel had, of course, told Looker everything that "D" had revealed to her, but it wasn't exactly the kind of intel you could just share with everyone else. What were they supposed to say? "Hey, I know there's going to be an ambush."
"Oh? How do you know?"
"I just do. Trust me."
Yeah…that wasn't going to work.
The best they could do was keep watch. Unfortunately, according to what D told them, the attackers were coming by submarine. That meant they could be right underneath them already. Worse, Anabel couldn't use her psychic abilities to detect them. Water made it tricky to sense through, and if Team Rocket had any sense, their submarines were probably lined with lead to block out any Psychic-type probing.
How did she know that? Well, it's what the International Police did too. It would've been stupid if Team Rocket hadn't thought of the same.
Still, she knew if they were here, they'd try to board. For their targets, Carl and Sham, the two executives currently in custody. What she didn't understand was why the Johto branch leader would sacrifice so many grunts just to retrieve two people. It didn't make sense.
Looker leaned back in the creaky chair of the observation room, eyes scanning the stormy footage from the port's thermal cameras. One screen showed the cell where Carl and Sham were being held. He frowned.
"Still nothing. I don't like it. It's too quiet."
Anabel stood near the window, arms folded tightly, staring out over the water, "I hate waiting… They're probably just waiting for the perfect time."
Looker rubbed his temple. "If they're coming by submarine, there's nothing to detect unless they surface. And with the blizzard rolling in tomorrow…" He trailed off, eyes flicking back to the screen. "Perfect cover for an extraction. And we won't be able to follow them."
Anabel clenched her jaw. "We need to get those two transferred before the weather traps us."
"The transport ship from Kanto's still coming," Looker muttered. "But that's it. We can't call for backup. We're stuck between international waters with no signal, and even if we could get through, we're too far out for anyone to reach us in time."
"So that means they'll come for them tonight," Anabel said, turning to him. "Before the storm hits. So they can escape."
Suddenly, the thermal cameras flickered.
It was brief, barely noticeable, but it looked like someone was either trying to turn them off or manipulate the feed.
Looker straightened. "What was that?"
Anabel crossed the room in two quick strides, eyes narrowing at the screen. For a split second, she thought she saw a ripple. A blur on the surface.
"Rewind that!" she barked, pointing.
Looker keyed in the commands, scrubbing the feed frame by frame.
There.
A faint distortion. A shadow, Someone… climbing on.
"Divers," Anabel breathed. "They're already here."
Looker grabbed the comm on his belt, "All units, all units, lockdown protocol is active! Seal the prisoner block and secure the transport route, now!"
—--
{Down in the cell block}
Carl sat casually, legs kicked up, a cocky grin stretching across his face.
Sham, by contrast, looked bored out of her mind, sitting stiffly on the bench and flicking her fingernails.
"How much longer until these useless grunts get us out?" she muttered.
Carl shook his head with a smirk. "Relax, Sham. You know the Masked Man, he doesn't leave his top people rotting in a cell. They're coming for us. Doesn't matter how many grunts we burn getting there."
Sham huffed, arms crossed. "They better. I'm tired of sitting here like bait."
Suddenly, a faint clunk echoed through the ceiling pipes above them.
Carl's grin widened, "See? Right on schedule."
—-
{Above Deck}
Anabel sprinted down the narrow corridor, barking into her earpiece, "I want guards at every access point! Sweep the lower hull for breaches, if they're coming from below, we cut them off before they reach the main corridor!"
Looker jogged behind her, clutching his coat as he puffed, "And this is exactly why I hate sea missions…"
They burst onto the upper deck just in time to see the first shapes pulling themselves up over the starboard railing, dark, slick figures in black wetsuits, barely visible in the howling storm and crashing waves.
"Confirmed breach!" crackled a voice over comms. "Starboard side! Repeat, they're on the starboard side!"
Anabel's eyes narrowed. "Not on my watch." She hurled a Poké Ball forward with practiced ease, the familiar gleam of red light revealing her Espeon, who landed softly, fur already bristling against the cold wind. The gem on its forehead pulsed with light.
"Espeon [Psychic]!"
Espeon's eyes glowed fiercely. With a psychic shimmer, the boarding grunts were yanked mid-climb, suspended in the air like puppets. Their wetsuits slipped just enough to reveal black Team Rocket uniforms beneath, and strange half-masks covering one side of their faces.
Anabel frowned. 'New masks…?'
Looker followed up fast, throwing his Poké Ball. "Croagunk use [Poison Jab]!"
Croagunk let out a raspy croak and launched upward, his hand glowing with venomous energy. He struck each of the immobilized grunts, delivering paralyzing poison strikes that left them limp. Espeon gently tossed the subdued intruders into a nearby janitor's closet with a SLAM, then telekinetically shut and locked the door.
Anabel exhaled. "That's just the first wave," she muttered. "This feels like a diversion."
Looker adjusted his coat and nodded grimly. "Yeah… and I'll bet anything there's a spy on board feeding them our patrol patterns."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Anabel said, then her earpiece crackled again with a new voice.
"Hull breach detected, Maintenance Hatch Theta-7. Infrared scrambled. Repeat, IR feed compromised."
Anabel's face hardened. "They're already inside."
She turned to Looker. "Splitting up gives us the best shot. I'll head to the prisoner block, if they're here for Carl and Sham, I'm not letting them leave."
Looker gave a curt nod. "Then I'll secure the engine bay. If they take out propulsion, we're stranded, even if we stop them."
They split at the forked corridor, boots clanging against metal as the ship lurched with a crash of waves. The storm outside was getting worse.
—-
{Below Deck – Cell Block}
A low hiss echoed through the air vents.
Sham stood sharply, brushing invisible dust from her coat. "That's the gas line," she muttered. "They're using the knockout gas trick again."
Carl smirked from his reclined position. "You always get so crabby when you're not the one in charge."
"Shut up."
With a metallic clang, the vent cover in the far corner dropped open. A grunt, face partially hidden by one of those half-masks, crawled through, eyes alert. He crouched low, glancing over his shoulder as he slipped inside.
"About damn time," Sham hissed.
The grunt reached into his belt pouch, pulled out a pair of small canisters, and passed them to Carl and Sham. Both executives took them without a word, calm, focused, ready.
"Status on the extraction?" Carl asked, already striding toward the vent.
The grunt held up two fingers. "Two minutes."
Sham sneered. "That's two too long. Let's move."
But before they could climb in, the door to the cell slammed open.
Anabel burst in, fury in her stride and Espeon glowing beside her.
"Freeze!" she snapped.
The grunt cursed and fumbled for a Poké Ball, too slow.
WHAM!
Espeon's eyes flashed, and the grunt was yanked from the floor and slammed against the wall with bone-jarring force. He crumpled instantly.
Carl, however, was quicker. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled a smoke bomb from the bag and flung it at Anabel's feet.
FWOOSH!
The cell exploded into a thick cloud of blinding fog. Anabel staggered back, coughing as the sharp, acrid smoke burned her lungs.
"Espeon, [Reflect], around us!" she managed between coughs.
A shimmering barrier wrapped around her and Espeon, shielding them from the worst of the smoke. Through the haze, Anabel saw the shapes of Carl and Sham vanishing into the vent like shadows.
"No!" she snarled.
Espeon fired a psychic blast toward the vent, BANG!, the metal groaned under the pressure, warping visibly. But it wasn't enough. The two were already gone, slipping deeper into the belly of the ship.
Anabel slapped her earpiece. "Cell block breached! Targets are on the move, vent access, maintenance shaft Alpha!"
Up in the engine bay, Looker's voice crackled back through the comms, "I've got at least fifteen here, they're trying to flood the ballast tanks! If they sink us—"
Static.
"Looker?! Looker, do you copy?!" Anabel's voice sharpened, rising above the fading fog. "LOOKER!"
Only silence.
Grinding her teeth, she forced herself to focus. Panic was a luxury she couldn't afford.
"Espeon, with me!" she barked.
She sprinted toward the vent, still swirling with smoke. The Reflect barrier shimmered around her as she crouched, examining the warped metal. It was too late. They'd bought just enough time to vanish.
She tapped her comm again. "Command, do we have any trackers on Carl or Sham? Any signal pings?!"
A moment of delay, then, "Negative. Their suits must have jammers or countermeasures. We can't get a lock."
"Damn it!" Anabel slammed her fist into the bulkhead. Her breath came fast, not just from the chase but from the sheer frustration. She closed her eyes for half a second, grounding herself.
Then, movement outside the porthole. She turned, and her stomach sank. Beyond the glass, the horizon had vanished covered by the clouds, the blizzard was coming
—
{Engine Room – Below Deck}
BOOM!
Looker staggered as a deafening bang erupted behind him, one of the ballast tank valves had ruptured under pressure. Water surged in, covering the floor in seconds.
Croagunk darted between steam-pumping pipes, jabbing grunts with his glowing, venomous fists. Sparks flew from a nearby console as Looker ducked, narrowly avoiding a chunk of shrapnel.
Around him, other officers scrambled, fighting to stop the chaos. But the Rockets didn't seem to care about survival. They moved in terrifying unison, like drones, placing charges and mounting strange black devices along the walls, some kind of magnetic demolition tech.
"Stop those bombs, you idiots!" Looker shouted, his boots skidding across the water-slicked floor.
Croagunk lunged at a Rocket grunt, but another figure stepped forward, a Drowzee, eyes glowing.
"Croagunk, watch out—!"
Too late. A wave of psychic force slammed into Croagunk, hurling it back into a crate with a sickening crunch.
"Croagunk!" Looker rushed to his partner. Croagunk groaned, staggering upright, clearly dazed, but still standing.
Water kept rising. Electrical panels flickered dangerously above them. And still the Rockets kept planting explosives, fully committed to sinking the entire ship.
Why? Looker couldn't understand. This ship held dozens of Rocket grunts too, maybe 50 to 100. Were they just… expendable?
He dove for a control console, wrenching off the emergency override panel with his bare hands, "Come on, come on, give me something—"
Sparks danced across the panel. Circuits were already shorting out.
That's when he saw it.
A small metal canister clattering across the floor, beeping rapidly.
His eyes widened.
"SCATTER!"
He dove behind the nearest engine as the device erupted in a crackling burst, an EMP.
The lights died instantly. Control panels sparked and died. His comms fizzled out with a shriek of static. Croagunk stumbled from the discharge, dazed again.
"EMP… damn it!" Looker growled, fumbling for his handheld scanner. Dead. Completely fried.
Around him, the chaos intensified. Grunts swarmed over the ruined machinery, placing shaped charges with ruthless precision.
"Looker!" a voice cried from the noise, a young engineer, pale, sweat pouring down his face. "They're collapsing the ballast tanks! If they go, the whole ship—"
"Will flood and sink. I know!" Looker barked back.
He grabbed a wrench and slammed it into the arm of a Rocket trying to trigger a detonator. Croagunk, recovered now, surged back in, its hand glowing with [Poison Jab] It jabbed a Rocket in the gut, they dropped like a rock.
Looker's mind raced, "They're not just sabotaging. They're using this as a cover," he muttered. "Keep us busy… make us panic… so they can extract the Executives."
And they didn't care how many of their own they buried to do it.
He clenched his fist, soaked to the bone, surrounded by damaged equipment, unconscious Rockets, and flickering emergency lights. His only hope now—
Stall.
Long enough for the Kanto exchange ship to arrive.
That was the plan. That was the only plan left.
He didn't know how far out they were. He didn't even know if the comm blackout had killed the distress signal.
But he wasn't giving up.
"We hold this line!" Looker bellowed, looking at the other members of the international police, "All we need to do is stall them for as long as we can, so let's remind these Rockets why we are the world's finest!"
Croagunk croaked in agreement, fists glowing, and soon the other officers nodded and stood ready to keep fighting for as long as they could