I suppose breaking into a Rocket hideout is meant to be difficult. In actual fact, it was disturbingly easy.
By this point, I don't think there's anyone who doesn't know that Professor Oak got kidnapped last month – by Team Rocket of all people. God knows what they were planning to do with him; he didn't really have all that much to offer them. But kidnap him they did, and since we go a long way back, I thought I'd do him a favour and bust him out of there. I mean, it's not like the cops were going to do anything. We have a saying in Kanto about the police: 'If it ain't tea, they don't care.' Sure, they'd cordoned off the lab, but since they didn't react when I smashed in a window, set off the alarm and climbed in, I was pretty certain that they were going to be as much help to Oak as a bull in a kitchen.
I'll admit, I had a bit of an ulterior motive in doing it: I wanted to see if I could. I knew there'd be guards and such outside the Rocket hideout, and that they'd have guns as well as Pokémon – so I'd decided that my usual team were out of the question; most of them weren't bulletproof, and I couldn't mount a frontal assault with only one with me. That left me with the option of bringing just one or two smaller, subtler monsters, and trying to sneak in – which was very appealing for some reason. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to save Oak, too. It's just that I wanted to infiltrate a criminal lair as well.
And so it was that I found myself crouching in wet grass in the middle of the Safari Zone at ten o'clock at night in September.
Ahead of me was a low concrete bunker, screened by undergrowth and by the spreading boughs of the forest trees; they'd picked a good spot, I had to admit. It had taken me two hours to find it – I knew it was in the woods, but considering the Safari Zone is actually bigger than the town it's located in and contains about a hundred acres of woodland all told, that didn't really narrow things down.
Actually, it hadn't been easy getting into the Safari Zone in the first place. It closed at six, so I'd had to break in here as well. I guess they'd probably have made an exception in this case, but where would the fun be in that? Instead, I'd sneaked over the fence using the one Pokémon I'd brought with me, conveniently missing the razor wire, and spent a long time dodging patrolling Zone guards. They weren't actually looking for me in particular, which made it a lot easier; after all, who'd break into the Safari Zone? There was nothing you could get in here at night that wasn't more easily and legally obtained during the day.
"All right," I muttered to myself, watching the lone Rocket sentry move around the back of the building. "Vinnie, let's have some Haze."
He bobbed silently next to me and rose up a little out of the thicket he'd been hiding in. His globular body expanded slightly – then contracted again, a steady stream of dense whitish fog rolling out of his pores.
"Good," I said. "Keep it up."
The fog kept coming, and soon the whole area was thick with it; it spread out close to the ground, built up and filled the air. The Rocket base disappeared, and I heard a yell from the distance, oddly muffled by the mist.
"Where the hell did this come from?"
I got to my feet and crept closer, Vinnie floating along beside me and pouring out more fog as he came. He could keep it up for hours, I knew; it was one of the least draining of his moves, and before coming I'd made sure to practise it with him.
"Don't know," came a reply. "It's not normal – a Pokémon, maybe?"
"You think someone's here?"
The first voice sounded a lot closer now, which meant it was time to get out of their way.
"Vinnie," I whispered, "stop Hazing now. It's time to fly."
The fog stopped flowing, and he began to swell up, lighter-than-air gases building up within his body; when I judged he was big enough, I wrapped my arms around him and leaned forwards as far as I could. He swelled a little larger beneath my hands – and then floated upwards, and I felt my feet leave the ground. That was how I'd got over the fence, of course: Vinnie was a Koffing, silent, buoyant and extremely versatile. He could flood a room with smoke, conceal an infiltration with mist – or carry a small, light person onto the roof of a Rocket hideout.
For a few glorious seconds I drifted, weightless, through a sea of fog; it was like flying through a cloud. Then my feet touched cold concrete, and I dropped off Vinnie to land lightly on the roof. The whole operation had taken less than half a minute, and as Vinnie shrank back to his normal beach ball size, I was already looking around for a ventilator.
I found one near the middle of the roof: a square steel tube curled over on itself, the opening covered with a metal grate.
"OK," I said, "can you do a tiny little Flamethrower for me? Not like the one you did when Danny sat on you, a really small one. On the corners."
I tapped where I meant, and four tiny squirts of flame later, the grille was loose enough for me to pull it out of the way and lay it quietly by my side. That TM had been a good investment.
"Found anyone?" called one of the Rocket guards below.
"No," returned the other. "Maybe a wild Pokémon got spooked or something."
"Maybe."
"That reminds me," I said. "Vinnie! Keep up the Haze."
He bobbed and icy mist started pouring out of him once more. Meanwhile, I lowered myself into the vent, looked around to see if it went anywhere, found it did and beckoned for him to join me. Giving out one last pulse of mist, Vinnie contracted to fit into the gap and followed me within. Once he was past me, I picked up the grille and leaned it against the opening, so that it would – hopefully – look like it was intact.
And that was it: we were in. The whole thing was far too easy, really. I mean, you'd have thought security would be tighter. They'd kidnapped a celebrity scientist, transported him to a secret base, presumably preparatory to making some sort of ransom demand – and then they didn't bother to guard him. I suppose they weren't worried about the cops, but they must have known that Oak had a lot of Trainer friends – everyone from the new kid superstar, Red Pastelle, to the venerable Professor Maxwell Blaine.
But back to my mission. I had no idea where I was going – Oak might be anywhere – but I wanted to get out of the vents as soon as possible, since crawling through them would make a ton of noise and I had a plan for getting through the corridors. Consequently, I took the first exit, dropped quietly down into what seemed to be the boiler room, and had a look through the window in the door. A long concrete tunnel stretched away on either side, punctuated only by the occasional tube light; I couldn't even see any doors.
"Whatever," I murmured, and turned back to Vinnie. "OK," I told him. "Haze again. Flood the place!"
He bobbed again, then floated up into the ventilation duct and began Hazing once more. A few moments later, I saw the first curl of mist through the glass pane in the door, and knew that the ventilation system was doing its job. Now all I could do was wait.
To cut a long story short, it wasn't fun. I was acutely aware of how helpless I would be if anyone found and attacked me; all I had was Vinnie, who was slow, weak and only really trained in supporting moves. If I met a Rocket one on one, and got him by surprise, then maybe I could do something, but if they came in a group...
The mist was pretty thick outside now; I heard a few people stumbling and swearing out there, but no one had tried to come in here yet.
"The hell is up with this fog?"
"Someone leave a window open or something?"
Vinnie wheezed from above my head, and I glanced up to see that he was almost completely deflated.
"Ah, crap!" I cried. "Stop Hazing!"
He did, and I caught him as he drifted down, unable to maintain a regular height.
"Damn," I said. "Sorry. I totally forgot."
"Where the hell am I, anyway?" someone asked from outside; I crouched beneath the window in the door and held Vinnie down as he started to inflate again. A moment later, I heard muffled footsteps move away, and I straightened up, letting go of Vinnie as I did. Since he was mostly full of air with traces of poison, he hadn't taken very long to recover; he wouldn't be able to fly high until he'd successfully regenerated his lighter-than-air gases, but he was at least airborne and mobile.
"All right," I whispered. "You ready to go?"
Vinnie made a noise halfway between a hiss and a burble that I took to mean yes, so I pushed open the door and crept out into the corridor. All was quiet. The fog deadened the sound like a coat of fresh snow, and I noted with satisfaction that I could barely see anything at all. Now all that remained was to find Professor Oak.
I kept one hand on the wall, working my way down the corridor and listening for any voices in the fog; a minute or two later, I heard some and shrank back against the wall, hoping no one would see me as I eavesdropped.
"Ariana thinks this is a cover," someone was saying. "Someone's in the building, trying to rescue Oak."
"Really? I bet someone just left a window open and let in all that fog."
"No, you moron, fog can't come indoors. It's too warm in here. Therefore someone's generating it artificially – from the inside."
"OK, so there might be someone in here. What am I supposed to do about it?"
The first person sighed.
"Just go and look for people, and send them to the cell," he said. "We need as many guards there as possible."
"All right, all right," grumbled the second person, and I heard them walk away. The first person was still there, I thought, and I really didn't want to move and give away my position to him. Despite the chill mist, a few beads of sweat appeared on my brow; if he found me, and if he was armed...
Then I heard retreating footsteps, and let out a silent sigh of relief. Undetected – and now I knew that Oak was being kept in a cell, wherever that might be. Still, it was better than nothing, I supposed.
I walked on and eventually found a corner; I turned it, and collided headfirst with a Rocket going in the other direction.
"Ah!" he cried. "What the—?"
Crap.
I couldn't move. I was held in the grip of the terrible realisation that I was probably about to die—
"Oh, right," he said, squinting at me through the fog. "Lost your hat?"
Then it hit me. For a second I saw myself through his eyes: an indistinct shape in the mist, wearing dark clothing and accompanied by a Koffing. I could only look more like a member of Team Rocket if I had a Rattatta and a Zubat with me as well.
"Uh... yeah," I said hesitantly. "Dropped it and with all this fog I can't find it."
"Ah, it'll turn up. Listen, head down to the cells, would you? Ariana's on my back about getting more guards down there. Thinks someone's breaking in to rescue Oak."
"Sure," I said. "I'll do that." Then, feeling that I might as well milk the situation for all it was worth, I added: "But which way do I go? I can't see a damn thing, and I've been wandering for forever."
"Feels like it, doesn't it?" The Rocket laughed hollowly. "OK, keep one hand on the wall, take the first left and the second right, then you'll be at the top of the stairs."
"What, so I'm down near the boiler room?" I asked, suddenly thinking of a way to increase my credibility.
"Yeah, that's it. Anyway, got to go. Need to find more people."
"All right. Thanks."
"No problem."
What a nice guy, I thought. Shame he was a Rocket.
Now that I knew I could pass for a member of the Team in the fog, I made much better time, and even exchanged remarks about the situation with a couple of other goons I passed; there was no need to sneak around, and so I found myself at the top of the stairs within five minutes.
"All right, Vinnie," I muttered, "we're going in. Get some gas ready."
He bobbed, and began to hiss quietly to himself. He was a little dull, really; Koffing were useful, but owing to the fact that they were ninety per cent gas, they didn't have much in the way of brains, and tended to respond quite mechanically to training.
They were difficult to descend – not being able to see the steps was a serious drawback – but I managed it. At the bottom was a door, and beyond the door was a short corridor terminating in another door – this one sealed.
I knocked on it.
"Hello?" I called. "Another guard here, as requested."
"All right," came the reply from the other side. "I'll open it up."
The door swung open with the slow creak of the extremely heavy, and I stepped in to see – amid more mist – four looming shapes around the room, presumably Rockets, and a fifth one sitting in the middle. My pulse quickened: it had to be the Professor. Now all I needed was a way to get him out.
Behind me, the door clanked shut again, and the Rocket who'd opened it spoke.
"Does it look like anyone's trying to rescue Oak?" she asked.
"Yeah, it does," I replied. "This fog isn't natural, and spreading it through the vents like that... I think Ariana has a point."
"Maybe."
She lapsed into silence, and I took the opportunity to step a little closer to the Professor.
"So, this is Professor Oak," I said. "Huh."
"Yeah, I can hardly believe we got him myself," one of the Rockets said, implicitly confirming that this was indeed the Professor.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Now, Professor, I want you to shut your eyes, take a deep breath and hold it until everything's clear."
The Rockets started.
"What the—?"
"Vinnie! Gas everywhere!"
I squeezed my eyes shut and gulped down air, a split second before—
In an instant, Vinnie went from beach ball to burst balloon; a toxic purple miasma filled the room in an instant, and before the Rockets could so much as reach for guns or Poké Balls they were on the floor, coughing and spluttering.
"Now all back in!" I hissed, using up precious air; I got a mouthful of his gas by accident, and spat it out before I breathed it in.
And then the toxin retreated, dwindled – and was gone. Vinnie was once again normal size, hissing quietly to himself.
I looked at the Rockets, but detected no signs of consciousness; I checked the one next to me to see if I'd timed it right, and found to my relief that I had. No one was dead. They'd be throwing up blood for a week, but they'd all survive.
Now I turned to Professor Oak. I ordered Vinnie to suck the Haze out of the cell so I could see him – and there he was, looking pretty much as normal. He had a black eye, and he was bound and gagged, but this was the same old Professor Oak I'd always known. An immense surge of relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but grin as I cut his bonds.
"Siegfried!" he gasped, as soon as I'd got the gag off. "Well, this certainly comes as a welcome relief."
My grin broadened. That was Oak for you: place him in a potentially fatal situation and he'd still maintain his peculiar brand of dry wit.
"Good to see you too, Professor," I told him. "But for now we have to get out of here. More Rockets will be coming, since they think you need more guards."
"Evidently, they're right," he replied. "The security here is shameful. They can snatch an old man from his lab, it seems, but can they keep him?" He shook his grizzled head in despair at the inadequacy of his captors.
"Uh, yeah, there'll be time for that later," I pressed, "but now we need to go."
Someone fell down the stairs outside, swore violently, got up and knocked on the door.
"Another guard here," she said. "Let me in."
"Uh – yeah!" I called. "Just give me a minute to find the damn switch!"
"All right."
Think, Siegfried, think. There had to be a way out... ah, of course! If the fog had got into this room, it must have been through the ventilation system – which meant there must be a vent here somewhere.
"There," I said, pointing up at the far wall, near the ceiling. "That vent. Professor, are you ready?"
"I suppose."
"Good. Vinnie, Flamethrower the screws on the grille!"
"Look, are you going to let me in or not?" asked the Rocket outside.
"One moment!" I called back. "Vinnie, hurry! And remember – a little Flamethrower, please!"
Four times the little blowtorch flame appeared; four times the corners of the grating melted, and with the last one it fell away. I caught it so it wouldn't make too much noise and pushed the chair over to the wall.
"Go, Professor!" I said urgently. "I'm right behind you."
"What's going on in there?" asked the woman outside.
"Nothing," I replied unconvincingly.
"Not even a breakout attempt?"
I paused.
"No?" I hazarded.
"I don't believe it... Hey! You there! I need help to get this door open!"
"Quickly, Professor!" I hissed; he was halfway into the vent now, but he was old and physically inflexible, and it was taking him a while.
"I'm going as fast as I can!" he replied.
Someone started banging on the door. Actually, not someone – something. I could tell because whatever was doing the banging was leaving claw-shaped dents in it.
"Get that door open!"
I abandoned decorum and jumped up onto the chair, pushing the Professor bodily into the shaft; he crawled a couple of feet ahead and the door buckled on its hinges.
"Vinnie!" I hissed. "You next!"
He floated swiftly up, and I followed, kicking the chair away as I went. I tried to replace the grille, but only succeeded in wedging it awkwardly into the mouth of the vent before whatever was slamming its talons into the door broke it down.
I didn't stay to see what it was. I followed Oak and Vinnie and crawled like the hounds of hell were after me.
---
See, I meant it when I said that breaking in was easy. The getting out was quite a bit harder.
Still, we managed. After some wandering through the vents, trying to retrace the path I'd taken earlier, we ended up back at the boiler room – from where we were able to get onto the roof. And from the roof it took only a little more Hazing and some floating around to get us out of there.
So, despite everything, it all ended well – except for the Rockets, of course. I think they were probably executed for failure.