Vance was starting forward when Ambrose put out an arm and stopped him.
"Heh heh, leave this one to me. You keep an eye on the field, boss — I'll have these two down in a minute." Ambrose volunteered himself and went forward to take the pair of them.
"All right. Be careful."
Vance nodded his agreement and turned his attention elsewhere.
"Hee hee hee. Why don't the two of you come quietly? Best behave yourselves, or you'll have a bad time of it." Ambrose walked toward them with the Quagsire beside him and a swaggering grin all over his face.
Better to take them alive if he could. Whether it was information to be got out of them or some other use, a living man was worth more than a dead one.
"Nothing else for it. I'll have to send out the Breloom."
Just as Ambrose was deciding the thing was settled, Idris produced a Poké Ball and threw it, and a Breloom appeared on the field with no ordinary presence about it: an Elite-class Pokémon.
The Breloom was not his own Pokémon either. It belonged to one of his elders, sent by the family to protect him, and now there was nothing else for it but to bring it out.
"Oh, mother of — there's another one!"
Ambrose nearly fell over and scrambled to back away, but the Breloom had already fixed on him. It was in front of him in a moment, quick on its feet, a faint light gathering on its fist, and it drove out a Dynamic Punch. The Quagsire threw itself in the way and was blasted aside, and the blow came on at Ambrose with no strength lost.
"Done for! I'm done for!"
In that instant it was the only thought in Ambrose's head. What a day of ups and downs it had been. They were on the point of winning and the other side got reinforcements; when his own side was losing, the Division Commander turned up to help; and now, when he was about to finish it off for good, out jumps a Breloom and floors the Quagsire with one punch.
By the look of it he was about to die under that fist himself. A fist the size of a sandbag — he was a dead man for certain.
"If I'd known, I'd never have put on the act. What the hell was I showing off for......"
"Boom—"
"Fatty!"
Emery shouted it, his eyes starting out of his head.
With Ambrose caught in that killing force there was nothing he could do but watch the Breloom's fist come closer and closer to his friend's skull.
Ambrose was the first person he had met after joining Team Rocket. The man was a bit useless, a bit too fond of a handsome woman, a bit too fond of his own skin and of any small advantage going — but he was a very good friend indeed!
To watch him about to lose his life under a Breloom's fist was agony.
"I— ...! I'm not dead?? Hahaha, I'm not dead! What did I tell you — a menace like me doesn't die that easily."
Ambrose had Teleported all at once and appeared behind Emery. He patted himself over and found he was not dead.
"Stop gawping and get up."
Vance called it out. He already had his two Pokémon engaged with the Breloom; things had come to the point where he could act openly.
"Oh — oh, it was you who saved me, wasn't it, boss? Thank you! I knew there was a future in sticking with you."
Ambrose scrambled up off the ground. In front of him Vance had let loose a powerful psychic force, his eyes glowing blue, and was using it to hold the Breloom.
Seeing it, Ambrose understood that Vance had saved him.
"Hahaha, my boss is a Psychic! Back from the dead again. What a day this has been. Haha — Emery, are you crying, you little sod? Don't worry. You haven't lost your virginity yet, so how could I possibly die?"
"Get lost. Get ready to help."
Emery swore at him with a laugh, glad enough that his friend had come through alive.
"Ah — but all my Pokémon are gone. How do I help?"
"Watch our backs."
"Oh. Right."
The moment Vance let loose his power as a Psychic, Idris called the Breloom back to stand guard at his side.
Idris knew perfectly well what a Psychic of no small strength meant, and so he had no choice but to bring the Breloom back to protect him.
Idris was close to choking on his own frustration. They had been on the point of winning and the other side had pulled something out of the bag again — a Psychic, and by the look of him a strong one.
Life really did come at you fast.
At the same time he was thanking his luck that he had kept something back to protect himself with; otherwise it would certainly have been him lying dead.
"A Psychic like that — why isn't he with the League? How does he end up with Rocket?"
The young man beside Idris looked as though he could not believe it. This was a Psychic, and they were extremely rare. Had he joined the League he would certainly have been brought along with care and would have gone far.
A Psychic was naturally stronger than an ordinary person, and had more advantages where Pokémon were concerned.
Having a Psychic for a teammate was very comfortable; having one for an enemy was dangerous. Both men were swearing under their breath now, cursing this rotten mission for a rotten mission, in which every sort of monster had come crawling out.
For the moment the situation had locked up again. Both sides had fallen into a strange sort of stalemate, and neither would move first.
All round them moves went off one after another with a roar, and yet here an uncanny quiet had settled.
And that quiet was broken by a figure falling out of the sky.
"Whump—"
Out of the dust a Dragonite rose, shielding the Trainer behind it.
"Sir, are you all right?"
Idris and the other man hurried forward to join the man who had fallen.
Vance did not dare go forward. He made his decision on the spot, took Ambrose and Emery and the Pokémon, and quickly opened up the distance.
This was an Elite-Four-class being. He had not the slightest inclination to fight it; his psychic power counted for nothing in front of an Elite-Four-class.
And blundering into a fight between Elite-Four-class men would do him no good at all.
"Boom—"
The next moment a terrible force came down on the place: both Chiefs had arrived together and launched their attack on the League's Elite-Four-class man.
Out on the field the League side was fighting a cornered fight, but anyone with eyes could see that the defeat was settled; their one hope of turning it around had been knocked out of the sky.
"Go! Break out! Dragonite, use Outrage — take them with you! One for one, and I'm still not out of pocket."
There was something wild in the face of the League's Elite-Four-class man as he sent the Dragonite up at the two of them, to open a way for the men below.
The League men seized the chance and threw themselves at the encirclement.
"Don't let them get away! Forget taking them alive — anyone running, kill them." The Division Commanders shouted it.
"Hmph."
The League's Elite-Four-class man gave a cold snort, traded a few more moves, and then took his chance and pulled back fast. The situation was past saving, and he had done what he could.
"After him — the old dog's running!"
The two Chiefs went after him at once.
With the League's Elite-Four-class man beaten and gone, the collapse of the League side on the ground came all the faster. The Team Rocket men had them surrounded; those who resisted were taken one after another, those who resisted hard were killed on the spot, and a few found a gap in the confusion and broke out through it.
Among them was Idris, the man Vance had been fighting a moment before.
In the crowd Vance's eyes narrowed. He had seen it.
"You two stay with the main body. I'll be back."
"Better not, surely. Don't chase a cornered man." Emery tried to talk him out of it; as things stood they could finish the mission in safety.
"It's all right. You two be careful."
With that Vance went after him. There was nothing to be got by staying here; go after him, and there might be a pleasant surprise in it.