"Has the fighting started?"
Vance came out of the training room, and when he reached the street he looked off at the far horizon. Even at that distance there was no missing the commotion.
A great many people were in that fight, and a disturbance like it could not be hidden.
The people on the street hurried past with anxious faces, and squad after squad of police were out on patrol.
"So the League's counterattack has come. No telling how this one will go."
Vance thought it as he made his way to the shop, where he found Ambrose and Emery both in the office.
Ambrose was cradling his phone, looking at something or other, while Emery sat at the computer with both hands going at the keyboard.
"Boss, you're here. Do we need to go and support them?" Seeing Vance arrive, Ambrose put the phone down and asked.
"There's been no word yet, so I don't know. I can't get hold of the Division Commander or the others either."
Vance answered, and sat down in the owner's chair.
"I hope we don't have to. We can hear it from here — no telling how many will die this time. The League is in earnest about this one."
A flash of fear crossed Ambrose's face. In a battle on that scale, if your luck was out and you ran into someone Elite-class or Gym-class, you were finished on the spot, without so much as the strength to hit back.
Their own side had its masters too, of course, who would move to intercept when the other side's masters went in — but there was a margin of error in that.
The margin was this: one of the enemy's masters comes onto the field right beside you and kills you in passing, and the time it takes him to do it in passing is the margin. No small number of poor devils had gone down at exactly that point.
During the ambush on the League's transport personnel last time, Ambrose had watched several poor devils die in front of him in just that way.
"Mm. They are in earnest. Let's hope fewer people die, or there'll be that much more of the after-work falling to us."
That was Vance's hope as well.
Whether things would in fact turn out the way he hoped, he had no idea.
The commotion outside Celadon City went on a long while before it slowly died away.
Who had won and who had lost, and how matters actually stood, Vance did not know.
Contact with the branch was cut off for the time being as well; perhaps the few of them there had gone to take part in the fighting too.
"Today, under the leadership of Chief Xander, our city carried out a sweep of Team Rocket's strongholds in Celadon City and achieved a complete success. A number of strongholds have been cleared, striking a powerful blow at the forces of darkness. In the course of this operation..............."
That evening the television was showing the news, and on the screen Xander appeared with his injuries, speaking stirringly into the camera, declaring the battle won and announcing that from this moment the state of alert in Celadon City was lifted and Trainers and residents were free to go about as they pleased.
The screen also showed more than a dozen people in bonds: Team Rocket members who had been taken.
"Is that true or not? We lost? Is the old devil really that fierce?"
Having watched the news, Ambrose could hardly believe it.
"We lost, most likely. But how badly is hard to say. Look at the people they've taken."
Vance said it, pointing at the people on the television.
Ambrose and Emery had a look, and both said they did not recognise them.
"These two are Squad Leaders. I don't know the rest either — and not knowing them tells us that the few important people above us weren't taken." Vance pointed at two of them and explained it for the other two.
"Ah, I see. In that case the old devil is doing a fair bit of boasting."
"That's how it is. Plenty of them like to make more of their merits than they should."
There had been no commotion at the Game Corner, so it was presumably untouched, and there were no important figures among those taken. Vance judged that the Celadon City branch would be affected, but not crippled.
Late that night Vance got through to his superior, Sylas, and had his guess confirmed.
Over the days that followed, good news came in from the other cities — so many Team Rocket strongholds successfully uprooted, so many people taken, so many killed, and so on.
Everything looked to be flourishing, and all that good news won the League back a good deal of face, added to its credibility and made something of a show of its strength.
Over those days Vance and the other two went on with their intelligence-gathering work as usual.
Vance sat in the shop now and then, but spent most of his time in the training rooms, keeping his Pokémon company while they trained.
Then one day a police car pulled up outside the shop, and Delaney and several others got out and came in.
Only Ambrose was inside. Seeing them come, he went forward with a smile to meet them.
"Is the owner not here?"
"He isn't. Is there something you need, officers?"
Ambrose answered respectfully.
"It's like this. Tomorrow afternoon we're holding a public-safety event, and we need you to attend. There are one or two things we'll be announcing while it's on. It's a matter of some importance, so be sure to come."
It was the secretarial man again who came forward to speak.
"Of course, of course."
"If the owner can't come, send someone who can represent the company — but it would be best if he came himself. This matters a good deal to people like you. It may even be an opportunity for you."
Ambrose stood there smiling obligingly.
That said, the men did not linger, but got back into the car and left — off to notify other companies, presumably.
Once they had gone, Ambrose let Vance and Emery know, and told them what the visit had been about.
"Tomorrow afternoon? Fatty, have you heard anything?"
In the shop the three of them sat round together in the office, talking it over.
"It'll be about the counterattack, I should think. There's nothing else it could be." Ambrose rubbed his chin, thought a moment, and said it.
"I'll go and ask around."
Ambrose went on, picking up his phone and waving it about.
"Do that."
Vance nodded. Ambrose was no good in a fight, but he was a fine hand with people; most of the business was his doing, and he heard things sooner than the rest of them.
It was not until that evening, while the three of them were eating, that Ambrose came back with what he had found.
"This event is being run by our Inspector Delaney, and the purpose of it is the after-business of this battle: raising a fund of compensation money for those who died."
Ambrose brought out what he had learned over the meal.
"If he's running it, it seems we'll be bleeding again."
Hearing it, Vance knew exactly what it meant. The fellow certainly knew how to put on a performance — one round before the battle, and now another after it.
"Damn it, again? Is there nobody to deal with a man like that?"
Emery grumbled and swore beside them, still smarting over the five hundred thousand Delaney and his party had squeezed out of them last time.
"Tomorrow, then, I'll go and see. Let's see what's so important about this so-called public-safety event."