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"And taxpayer dollars, right?" Gunner offered as an attempt at another joke. "At least, that's what Councilwoman Anderson might say."[break][break]

Penelope was right, though. Trust was hard to come by. Especially when it became clear that Team Rocket was hiding among the populace, disguised as ordinary people, who could the average citizen trust?[break][break]

The government, of course. They had to.[break][break]

Gunner thought back on his argument with GIDEON GRAVES. They still weren't on the best terms, though weeks had passed. Gunner knew he had to reconcile with his brother soon; the loneliness at not even having Gideon to turn to was eating away at him.[break][break]

"Do you have people you trust, Miss Livy?" the agent asked, wondering if the question was too out of line. "Like really trust, I mean. People you know you can count on no matter what?"[break][break]

He hoped, more than anything, to be that person for Gideon.

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The tap on Gunner's shoulder came out of nowhere. Sure, the bar was crowded, especially with the club music blasting at the highest volume. But he had gone there to be alone. He'd expected no one wanted to mess with a lone man trying to drink himself into oblivion.[break][break]

Gunner turned to confront the person trying to get his attention. The face that greeted him, however, would have totally sobered him if he hadn't been as far gone as he was.[break][break]

"Mila?" he blurted out, the syllables of her name slurring together on his tongue. "What the fuck are you doing here?"[break][break]

It was obvious what she was doing there. She was young, pretty, and dressed in fashionable clothes. Clubbing clothes.[break][break]

A pang of resentment hit Gunner, worsening his mood. After not hearing her from so long, he just had to run into her at a bar. Clearly, she was doing just fine. And if he'd heard her right, she was back to her usual business, too. Not that she'd ever stopped.[break][break]

Gunner made a face at the thought. "Picking up drunkards now? Did you lose all your charm between now and when you ghosted me? How fucking far you've fallen."

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Gunner slammed back another glass of vodka tonic, his third one of the night. Barely an hour had passed since his arrival at The Bitter End, a bar in Slateport City's upper district. He'd never been there before, but it was close to his apartment — just a couple of blocks — so he could stumble home in a drunken rage whenever the bartender kicked him out.[break][break]

Gunner was not normally the kind of man to drink himself into a stupor. But his argument with GIDEON GRAVES, still vividly fresh in his mind, had infuriated him more than expected. How could his brother not understand the reason for his deception? Everything Gunner had done during these past five years had been for his family's safety. Nothing was more important.[break][break]

Gunner replayed the heated confrontation over and over in his mind, his bitterness deepening with every repeat. And the fact that he could still pick at every small detail and every word said told him he wasn't drunk enough yet.[break][break]

As he looked up to seek out the bartender, the world around him rocked gently — a sign, at least, of the alcohol's grip closing around him.[break][break]

"Another vodka tonic," he said, raising his glass before putting it down with a heavy thud onto the counter. Gunner missed the skeptical look the other man gave him, but even if he'd seen it, he didn't care.[break][break]

At that moment, he wanted to destroy something. And he might as well destroy himself.

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Even though Gideon had already called him out for lying, Gunner's instinct and training only made him double down on it. He stood stiffly in his brother's living room, forcing himself to look Gideon in those umber eyes as he lied through his teeth.[break][break]

"I don't know," he said, pissed that Caleb Harcourt was stupid enough to let something like that slip. What part of my brother doesn't know had the other man not understood? Part of being a Ranger meant keeping the League's secrets from the average citizen.[break][break]

Gunner made a mental note to confront Caleb about it later. Otherwise, he had no reason to accept missions with the other man again.

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Gunner nodded gravely, his eyes fixed upon Greyson's face. "We do."[break][break]

The agent recalled their battle against THEO BECKETT, Rocket Underboss. Theo's words at the start of it had echoed in his mind ever since.[break][break]

"If you want us to stop, you'll have to kill us."[break][break]

Gunner rose to his feet, picking up the tablet as he stood. "When Pokémon go feral, like the Shadow Pokémon in Team Rocket's possession, the surest way to remove them as a threat is to exterminate them. The people who work for Team Rocket are no different."[break][break]

It was an opinion he hadn't had the chance to voice to many. Most wouldn't be able to stomach it, after all.

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Red? Was that Knox's nickname for Summer? He wondered why that was. Nothing about her was red — not her hair nor her eyes.[break][break]

Gunner put aside that interesting comment for now and focused on Knox's question. "We met in December, but we've only been dating since March," he explained. "So yeah, it's only been a couple of months, really."[break][break]

He offered the other man an apologetic smile, though he had a hunch Knox wouldn't care. Gunner was starting to see why the late Mr. Prescott hadn't had a great relationship with his son.[break][break]

"Sorry I didn't reach out to meet you sooner. Work's been crazy."[break][break]

Especially in the wake of Elinor Anderson's and annalise henderson's kidnappings. A girl named luka chêne had gone missing too, though he only recognized her name from the RONDEZ-VIEW OF LUV game.

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Gunner balked at the enormous pile of reports Penelope set down on her desk. But instead of coming up with an excuse to retreat to his own cubicle, he leaned forward and pulled one from the pile. Flipping open the folder, he scanned the top page.[break][break]

"People will try to do anything to win an advantage over someone else," he muttered, shaking his head. "This guy is complaining about his neighbor building a shed in his yard as if it were some kind of crime."[break][break]

With a final gulp of bland coffee, Gunner settled into his chair. It was impossible to get comfortable, but he'd be damned if he didn't try.[break][break]

"I can't decide if I should be glad these are the worst of the common citizen's problems, or if I should be exasperated by how small they are," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if we'd be a little better off as a region if people trusted each other more."[break][break]

He wasn't one to talk, of course. He'd spent the last few years lying to the most important people in his life about the kind of work he really did.

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Gunner expected the surprise on Penelope's face. They didn't normally speak like this, even though the nature of their relationship didn't exactly forbid it. His fake boss at the law firm often tried to engage him in social conversations, but that simply wasn't Gunner's style.[break][break]

Perhaps it was the troubled atmosphere within the councilwoman's office. Perhaps it was the esoteric ritual of sharing coffee at such a late hour.[break][break]

When she cracked the joke, Gunner — normally the stoic and unlaughing sort — made a sound that could have been a chuckle. A corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile.[break][break]

"Drag her back here with handcuffs still on and chain her to her desk," he joked. "'This is your punishment for getting kidnapped' — or something like that, huh, ma'am?"

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