Weeks of planning, scheduling, and debating with my conscience boiled down to one decision: that I had to find them, and at all costs. It would open new possibilities for the team, some way or another. And if a needless murder had gone on, I wanted to know. But trying to find it in the first place.....netted me more trouble than I could ever imagine.

Because the file was so secret, I couldn't risk it being found by minions. The best way to find the file without them knowing it even existed was to mingle among them. Known for my conservative nature and my reputation for treating my members as dirt, you would probably not expect me to do it. But the significance of these files were great, containing a lot of important information, information that would help Roketto Dan complete its ultimate goal. You're asking to know what it is? I won't tell you! You might be Officer Junsa in disguise. And I could not risk that, could I? Knowing how much I did risk that week........

Persian watched me from the doorway, as I removed my red jacket, pants, tie, and my other clothes, replacing it with black and white ones, the front covered by our symbol: an R.
It wanted to go with me; I could tell from its eyes, but that was out of the question. I would surely be recognized, and they might get some kind of impression, and then God knows what would happen?

I left my office dressed in the standard Roketto Dan uniform, better known as Dan'in. My men guarding the corridors regarded me as one of them, and greeted in an informal address. I was relieved that they didn't recognize me, because if they did, they would probably get the idea that I was trying to kill them. We trusted each other, but we also doubted. It was an uncertain relationship.

I suppose I should tell you how I found the files in the first place. Looking through the endless pile of paperwork, mostly agreements with trainers we cheated, taxes and bills, and dealings with the law. I was loathe to look through it, but it would never get done if someone didn't do it.

It fell out, from between the paperwork, right in front of my eyes. It wore the Roketto Dan colors, and instead of one R, two R's. That probably meant that it was meant to be seen by two people. I opened it up, and every paper that was supposed to be in there was missing, suddenly ripped out, except for one. It read,

"Addressed to -------- Deliver this promptly to Sakaki. No questions, just deliver. I have cameras in the walls, to secure evidence if you tried to peek at them.

At the bottom of the letter was written various facts and figures, and a reference back to page one. That suggested the fact that there was more to the folder, and what was missing might help us to attain our goal. But that's all that was readable, since there was dry blood splattered on the rest, including the name of the delivery boy.

So, the one who delivered these files was stopped, somehow, and the rest of the files were taken. I presumed it was one of Roketto Dan, because of the lack of fingerprints. My men always wore gloves. So whoever had taken them must have been with us. If the police or an outsider had taken it, we would be finished by now.

Since all this information was very secret, I couldn't let any of my men find out about it. That's when I decided on a disguise, to go amongst my members and find it, as well as the dead body and the murderer, without anyone knowing they even existed. Then there would be panic, and even more trouble. But I wanted this matter over with, and no one knowing it took place. It would become just another event in time.

But, before I descended the stairs, I wanted to make absolutely sure it would work. I rushed back into my office, and Persian hissed in anger and fright. It was only then, that I knew it would work. So, I left again, Persian settling down on the bed.

I consulted the long list and profile of members, and was shocked to find out that one of them had been scrawled out with blood. It wasn't going to be as easy as I thought. I slipped the profile back into my pocket, and entered the nearest room, deafening with yelling and Pokémon calls.

My men were hard at work, removing the shipments of stolen Pokémon from bags, PokéBalls, crates, or cages. Some were docile, the kind that had been taken from the good life.

"Hito...Hito..."

"There, Hitokagé......you'll be fine...."

"Hito...kagé......Hitooo......"

Others were vicious, the kind that had been in the wild or under a brutal trainer.

"Iwakuuuuuuuuu....."

"Damé, Iwaku! Back!"

"Rrrrrrrrrrr........Iwakuuu....."

The Iwaku was hard-headed and was about to crush the trainer it was stuck with. I decided to help him.

"You won't get it to obey you by just yelling at it," I said.

"Doushité?"

He spoke with more detatchment than I did, which disturbed me.

"You need to show it you want respect, baka!"

"You should give ME some respect!"

Until now, I didn't realize that he was superior to me: He had the higher-ranking uniform of Yamato and Kosaburo. I had the standard one, but also the lowest rank. But, rank had nothing to do with giving suggestions, did it? I tried again.

"Why should I? You're doing it wrong."

I then figured out I shouldn't have been so confident, because faster than I could react, he grabbed his whip and opened my face up. The blow was quick and stinging, drawining a stream of blood, and no one seemed to notice; the crack of the whip wasn't loud enough to draw them from their business, which seemed to suit that...as well.

"Itai!! Chikushou!!!"

My pride was already hurt, and now I knew better not to question ranks. Though I was the boss, the top, and untouchable, I had let myself sink to the bottom, at where I once was. As I painfully walked out of that noisy room, I was beginning to think I had made a mistake in undertaking this. Little did I know that I did, and more so than I thought. But I'll explain that later.

One of the older members followed me out, grabbing my shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Hai."

"That's a freak the Boss should take care of."

I was tempted to reveal myself, but I didn't.

"Démo, he isn't here."

"I wonder where he is..."

Right in front of you, I thought.

The man gave me a bandage and some water, then smiled. But it wasn't a kind smile. It was the kind that's twisted, and no happiness could be found in those smiles.

"Ja na."

He walked back into the room, and winked. I couldn't help staring at him. No matter how friendly he seemed, there was something wrong with him, but I couldn't place it. Before he left, I asked him a question, but he was tense after.

"Do you want me to watch your backpack?"

He nodded, sweating, and unslung the heavy thing. He dropped it on the ground, a picture frame of a golden R shattering on the floor. The man was startled, and ran back into the room, slamming the door again.

I ransacked the backpack, finding only a sick Ratta with no teeth, and blank pieces of ripped paper.

"Ratttttaaa......Ratt....."

I didn't care much for the things: they had ragged features, and usually couldn't be kept as a pet. But, as a fighter, it tore anything and everything up. It-----also had the potential to kill a human. Then again, any Pokémon could, if the trainer was weak.

Very few of Roketto Dan had Ratta, and those that had them couldn't raise them to their potential. Speaking of those kind of Ratta, Yamato and Kosaburo's one came, staring strangely at the sick one in the bag. It then scampered off again, its owner running after it in anger.

After looking through the bag, I tore apart the room searching for it. It wasn't in there, so I left the room and checked all the rooms on that particular floor, and when members asked what I was doing, I answered them that I was cleaning. They shrugged their shoulders, and then one pulled out a table from behind him.

"Too bad the Boss ain't here."

"Doushité? He wouldn't be any fun."

"Iié, he's the best player in the house!"

"We'd better wait until the cleaning lady's done."

"Yo, will ya hurry up?"

I lost my temper, at both their endless squwaking and my inability to find the files.

"Iké, Koiking!"

"Koi-Koi-Koi-Koi-Koi..."

That was most embarassing. I hadn't raised it to a high-enough level to even teach it an attack, and I don't know why I brought it along. For some reason, Koiking always flopped on their side. "Koi-Koi-Koi....."

"Koiking?! You baka!"

By that time I was boiling, but I retained my temper. When this was all over, I would be able to order them around as usual. I left the room, my own members laughing at me in disgust. The Ratta greeted me with a snarl, it seemed to be wanting food. I was tempted to feed it my Koiking, but since it would eventually evolve I fed it a wild Koratta instead. Doing that, I left for another room.

The meeting area, now deserted, was filled with traces of the R files, and also evidence of the dead delivery boy, something I don't want to describe, and to my horror, evidence of an investiagtion of the death, including a dropped badge. I rushed back into the room, where the Ratta had just vomited on the floor. It seemed to lose its stomach for all kinds of food. Someone walked into the door, slipping on the mess.

"Agh, shimatta!"

"Gomen, that was Ratta."

"Yuck..."

He walked away in disgust, and when he wasn't looking, I grabbed his handbag. To my disappointment, there was nothing in it except briefs. I threw the bag down, angrily, and decided to try outdoors. I grabbed a macheté, but suddenly one of my officers stopped me.

"Hey, you're late! Squad 15 was supposed to attack several HOURS ago! You kept us waiting! Now hurry up and don't be late again!"

"Nani kuso?!"

"Aren't you part of Squad 15?"

I grew nervous, but answered yes.

"Good, then get your big ass over to Hanada City, and get moving!!"

I suddenly remembered: this was one of my "better" officers. I ran foward as fast as I could, but was far behind. He continued to bark at me until I reached the city, and by then my squad was already assembled and stealing Pokémon, and some were attacking humans.

"Your Nyoraban, or your life?!" someone snarled.

"My life!"

Being shady, he took both.

This attack put my search on hold for at least two hours, and the only Pokémon I was able to steal was a Nyoroban, Showa, Rudgura, Zenigamé, Camier, Kamex, Azumao, and a strange but rare-looking Mantain. What? You say that's good? Not good for this organization's standards. Now what are you saying? That I'm being more modest than usual? Enough!

I could have caught more, but my mind was filled with those accursed files. The rest of the squad did better, capturing sixteen Gyarados and one obtained ten Freeza from three trainers.

I returned to Headquarters, weary, but with no further clues to my self-appointed mission. The sick Ratta was still waiting, and it seemed to be more agitated by the moment.

I sat down next to it, waiting for a sign of anyone suspicious entering. I didn't have to wait too long.

Another member ran into the room I was in, and looked at the broken picture frame. He seemed to have found something inside of it, and ran off down the stairs, into the laboratory. I forgot everything and ran after him.

"Yaméro!"

"Nani---?!" The member was startled by my appearance.

"What's in your hand?"

He revealed what was in it: his cap. I looked at his head, and he had another cap.

"Why do you have two?"

"Will you just-----go away? It's none of your business."

"I want to know. One of us might have been---"

"So......you know! Masaka?!!"

I walked closer to him, and he stepped backwards. "How can you know?! No one knew about that affair! It was top secret!"

"Tell me what it is!"

"You can't...know!!"

He then rammed into me, and I fell out the door. He slammed it, loosening an occupied PokéBall from a hole in the wall. Before it could release its contents or before I could pick it up, it disappeared into the hole again. I rushed back to the door, banging on the glass. The bastard didn't want to answer, and I continued banging.

Banging on the door didn't seem to help, so I barked,

"OPEN THE DOOR!!" It still didn't work, so I looked through the glass instead. The still-shaking member was dialing a number on a phone. I scrawled the number on a piece of paper in my pocket, and charged up the stairs to my office. But then I encountered another obstacle.

"Pidgeeeooon.....Pidgeooo!!! Pidgeo-Pidgeonnnnn!"

A wild Pidgeon had somehow escaped and was now blocking the stairway. It didn't let me pass, and pecked my face, which hadn't recovered from the earlier lash.

"Iké, Golonya!"

"Golllll........."

"Golonya, Rock Throw!"

It jumped into the air onto Pidgeon, which made it faint. But I hadn't thought ahead on how weak this stairway was, and you could guess what happened.

"Golonya, come back...."

The rock Pokémon disappeared into my PokéBall again, as I fell through several floors into the laboratory, breaking a few test tubes.

Dim lights and a bloody, pounding head woke me several hours later. The laboratory phone had been pulled from its socket, and muddy footprints led to a wide-open door. I staggered up, almost crawling to it, dizziness attacking my eyes.

This door I never knew about. Not even she told me about it. It makes me wonder why.....it wasn't that discreet. I dragged myself up the stairway, the stone steps digging into my knees. I pulled the phone number out of my pocket, that number trying to register in my cloudy mind. Finally, on the thirty-fifth step, it clicked. That was the phone number of the police headquarters! At that I almost fainted, and fell backward several more steps. Thoughts started racing through my mind again, and my sweat mixed with the blood running down. I tried to hurry, but I was about to collapse: I could barely hold myself up.

The stairway ended after an eternity at another wide-open door, and I was horrified to see where it led to: my office!

Immediately I knew something was wrong. At first glance, everything was in disorder, and there was a general mess on the floor. The window was smashed, and the door was still open. As soon as I set foot in the room, Persian pounced onto me, about to slash my face. It didn't catch my scent. Dogs could do that, but not cats. And Persian was above me, about to kill its master.

My thoughts raced. I thrust my hands foward, throwing it backward. It was about to charge again, when I threw off my blood-stained cap.

"Mrrrrrreooow......?"

It started foward again, this time to lick me.

"Persian....." I asked weakly. "What the hell happened here?"

"Mreeeowwwww..Mrrrrrr!" It hissed at the window, and led me to a disgusting sight on the floor. It was a dead man, with the Roketto Dan uniform ripped off of him, and blue cloth showing underneath, barely covering the torn skin and severed muscles. It was to my horror that it was a police officer, and he was the one that picked up the cap from the picture on the wall. And now two were dead because of the double R files. And still there was no trace of them. But the killer would have them, and once I found them.......

On the officer's body lay an ugly bite mark. It was deep, not as shallow as an Arbok's but not as deep as a Gyarados. The mark was made by two long teeth, and despite my aching head, tried to figure out what kind of Pokémon made that kind of bite mark. It had broken through the officer's bone, and had torn apart the muscle and blood vessels surrounding it. The sight was sickening: the officer's eyes still open, and his Pokémon, a Coil, grieving beside him. The Coil had not gotten hurt at all: whatever made the bite mark was weak to Pokémon attacks.

"Mrrrrrreeeeeowwwww....."

"What is it, Persian?"

"Mrrreeeowww...Mrrrr..."

Persian sat by a piece of fur on the floor. I picked it up, and saw that it was brown, coarse, and matted. Looking at the fur, it was then that I decided to pay Kosaburo and Yamato a visit, and this time, not to bail them out of jail.

To Be Continued......

Comments? Questions? And.....Flames? Send them to Blue9Tiger@aol.com Phew, done. Hoped whoever read it liked it! I'm sorry it was so short. See, the little bar at the right is really big. Normally, I'll make the bar so small that you can't see it! (readers scream) But, you know how it is when you can't think up of enough fillers. Maybe I'll make the next one longer..featuring the object of Jess' hate, and her green-haired partner......well, anyway........ Look out for Part 2 of this and Part 11 of ATRRG coming soon! Farther in the decade (:), my next crossover! Farther in the century, my insult to American pop music! Farther in the millenium, a new fanfiction that I haven't even thought up, yet! Are you annoyed, yet? And, gomen nasai, but I just couldn't refer to Persian as Mr. Fluffy. I'm just too-----weird for that. Until we meet again.............Blue9Tiger, aka: a lot of things.