Chapter 42: Another Kidnapping

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Perpetual illumination made Cipher's underground hospital look more like a casino. Spotless silver waiting rooms were dotted with new members promised free healthcare and others injured by Shadow Pokémon. They waved to Wyatt and shook Trip's hand.

Trip wasn't looking forward to this. He expected a barrage of unwanted congratulations upon seeing Kamron again, but he was brisk in asking only medical questions. His congratulations were only for the minor fractures in Trip's right leg healing enough to put weight on it again.

'We're looking at another two months, at least, for your left. You'll begin physio with my colleague, Parry. Twice a week. Is there anything else I can help you with?'

'...Are you OK, dude?'

'Excuse me?'

'Sorry. You just don't sound yourself.'

'Don't worry about me.'

He forced a smile. 'Are you enjoying Cipher?'

'He won't blab,' Wyatt said bluntly, 'If there's something you want to say.'

'Oh, dear... is it that obvious?'

Kamron sighed. 'It's really not your problem, but... my wife never made it out of the lab.'

At first, Trip felt no pity for any member of Cipher. Though he sometimes doubted his own reflection, he knew now it wasn't so black and white. Kamron might have been evil, or he might have been like Trip or Wyatt or somewhere in the middle. What did it matter? They were all being used, whether they believed it or not.

'And she's definitely...?'

'Absolutely. She managed to call me...'

Rage suddenly distorted his voice. 'While she was suffocating to death, trying to get to the tunnel before Znider blocked it. And you know who risked their lives to reach her? Who brought her body home, no questions asked? The fucking International Police. The people we're supposed to hate. Blab if you want. I don't care. If Verzant or Znider or the big boss himself wants to kill me, so be it. They killed my wife and our unborn child. Why not me? You know, boys, I'd tell you to get the fuck out... but you can't. No-one leaves Cipher alive.'

'Unless Cipher gets taken down.'

Trip startled himself. Impulsively trusting Kamron with the fact that idea had even crossed his mind was irresponsible. Wyatt was pale. Kamron shrugged.

'Yeah... not gonna happen. Cipher have had 17 long years to plot and prepare. Even Michael wouldn't be able to take them down. Not this time. And it'll be too late by the time anyone tries. Go. Or you'll be late for Parry.'

Trip asked Wyatt what 'too late' meant, but he didn't know. He asked who the 'big boss' was. Wyatt replied that no-one really knew that, either. Parry was running late. Sitting in the waiting room where silver chairs circled a cloud-print carpet, Trip unfolded his note again.

#11, these Pokémon are yours now. Raise them well.

It wasn't Laila's handwriting. She never knew him as #11, anyway. He knew, really, that those Pokémon could only have come from the person who found them when he arrived too late.

Daddy's coming.

On the one hand, he didn't want to get his hopes up but on the other, he wondered if his hopes were already slashed to pieces; because if his father knew he was here, if he knew he was #11 and even ordered Kamron to protect him, why hadn't he approached Trip himself? Did he know his son would be disappointed? Or didn't he care beyond a vague feeling of responsibility? How could he remain a member of Cipher when they murdered the mother of his child? Maybe he had no choice. There were inevitably others as cruel and ruthless as Rosen. That might explain why he couldn't approach Trip, too. He hoped it was that...

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