She advanced the screen again. This time it showed an organizational chart of PSIA and police, with red X's and question marks on many positions. "Finally – and most critically – we must address the enemy within. Internal traitors. We know for a fact that moles and double agents are embedded in our intelligence agency, in law enforcement, even in the bureaucratic offices that oversee security policy. Some were part of the lab heist conspiracy; others are newly turned or recruited."
At this, a heavy silence fell. Seeing the chart, with so many unknowns and possible traitors, hammered home why they alone were gathered here. Trust had become a rare commodity.
Makima's gaze was like a blade as she swept it over the room. "That is why you are all here, in secret. As of now, I trust no one outside of this room." She let that sink in. The agents absorbed the declaration: they were it – the last line, the only ones above suspicion.
Denji exhaled slowly. Even he grasped the severity in Makima's tone. "No pressure, huh," he mumbled, attempting a shaky grin towards Power. Power gave him a toothy smirk and cracked her knuckles, trying to act fearless, though a bead of sweat betrayed her excitement-nervousness. In truth, many of them felt a mix of pride and dread – pride that Makima believed in them, dread at the enormity of being the only ones.
Makima's expression softened just enough to not be entirely foreboding. "I know this is a lot of information. But you deserved to hear the full scope directly." She clicked the remote once more. Now the screen displayed a simple bullet-point list titled "Objectives" and "Resources" – but the details were blurred out to anyone without clearance. It was more symbolic than informative for them at the moment.
She stepped aside slightly and extended her hand towards Hiroshi, almost like a ceremonial gesture. "As of this moment, command of all daily field operations is being transferred to Assistant Director Hiroshi Kobayashi."
Hiroshi, who had been standing to Makima's side, straightened in surprise. They had discussed this privately, but hearing it formally declared gave him a jolt of adrenaline. Fifty or so pairs of eyes shifted to him, and he felt their weight.
Makima continued, her tone brooking no argument: "Hiroshi will lead the fight on the ground. He has the most comprehensive understanding of our enemies' tactics from his years abroad. He also holds invaluable knowledge – data on 56 different Pokémon species and associated technologies that he personally gathered during his global missions. That is more than any nation on earth possesses , even the United States." She allowed herself a small, proud smile in Hiroshi's direction. "Hiroshi's work has given Japan a fighting chance in what's to come. Now he will direct that fight here at home."
Many heads nodded. Arai looked particularly impressed – 56 species! The enormity of that research dawned anew on him and others who hadn't known the exact number. Denji whispered to Power, "I didn't even know there were that many Pokémon." Power shrugged as if unimpressed, but her eyes were wide.
Kishibe murmured, "The kid's been busy," with a touch of admiration. Himeno flashed Hiroshi a supportive smile; Aki placed a hand briefly on Hiroshi's back in a gesture of solidarity. Hiroshi himself inclined his head to Makima, accepting the responsibility with a calm he did not entirely feel. Inside, his mind raced: This is it. It's real. But outwardly he met the eyes of his peers with steady resolve.
Makima wasn't finished. "I will remain in charge of high-level strategy and political coordination," she said. "I'll handle the Prime Minister, the intelligence directors – those few we believe we can trust – and manage our overall policy approach. Consider me your shield against any bureaucratic interference. I'll be fighting that battle so you don't have to."
There was a fierce confidence in her voice that reassured them; Makima was nothing if not adept at controlling a situation, whether by politics or other means. Yoshimura stepped forward at this juncture, his hands resting on his cane (though he hardly needed it; his presence was more vigorous than any man his age had a right to be). "I'll be assisting Director Makima and Hiroshi in a more… advisory capacity," Yoshimura announced warmly. His tired eyes crinkled at the edges as he looked over the team. "Think of me as an old owl perched in the rafters – I'll hoot if I foresee danger or if you need guidance."
A few chuckles greeted Yoshimura's metaphor. Many of them deeply respected the man; he'd trained Hiroshi, and over the years he'd had a hand in mentoring quite a few present. Kishibe gave the old man a tiny salute with two fingers; Yoshimura responded with a genial nod.
Makima allowed the brief levity, then moved on to the next vital piece. She produced a slim black folder from under her arm – sealed with a crimson wax emblem of the PSIA. Without a word, she handed it to Hiroshi. Hiroshi accepted it carefully, glancing at Makima in question.
"That," Makima said, addressing the room so all knew, "is a list of resources and assets that we have gathered in secret. Consider it an arsenal for this war. Safehouses, equipment stockpiles, vehicles, untraceable funds, and even a few… allies positioned in various agencies who have passed our loyalty tests." Her gaze was intense. "Hiroshi, you are authorized to access and deploy any of these resources at your discretion. No further approval needed. That document is Eyes-Only for you and me."
Hiroshi nodded solemnly and tucked the folder inside his suit jacket. He felt the heft of it against his chest – a literal weight of responsibility. "Understood. I'll put them to good use."
Aki raised his hand slightly. "Ma'am, do we have any support from units outside this one? Even if branches are compromised, perhaps individual trustworthy officers? Or military backup?"
Makima looked at Aki. "A fair question. Officially, no. Unofficially…" She traded a glance with Yoshimura. "We have a handful of contacts in the Ground Self-Defense Forces and National Police who are privately loyal. They are not in this room because exposing them would risk tipping our hand. But if needed, and if we can do so covertly, we may call on small teams from them for specific tasks. Otherwise, assume it's just us."
"Basically an independent cell," Madoka commented, his analytical mind already categorizing their status. "Operating off the books under direct authority of the PM via you." It wasn't a question so much as a clarification for everyone's benefit.
Makima inclined her head. "Precisely. We're bypassing traditional command structures entirely. Too many leaks. As of now, consider yourselves a separate task force reporting only to me and Hiroshi. You will have to be self-sufficient and discrete."
Kishibe let out a low whistle. "Hah… Always wanted to be part of an officially unofficial death squad," he joked darkly. But his hand casually rested on the hilt of one of his knives at his belt, a sign that he was ready to do whatever needed doing.
Makima's eyes flashed at the terminology but she didn't contradict it directly. Instead she said, "Our aim is not indiscriminate violence. It's to excise the cancer and restore integrity. But make no mistake – many of our enemies will be highly placed, heavily guarded, and perfectly willing to kill to keep their hold on power. We will meet force with force." She paused, then added coolly, "Lethal force is authorized against confirmed traitors and foreign operatives. We will try to capture intel sources alive if possible – but your safety and civilian safety come first. Understood?"
A chorus of firm "Yes ma'am" and nods answered. Some, like Denji and Power, actually grinned at the prospect of a real fight without gloves. Others, like Kobeni and Arai, swallowed nervously but set their jaws in determination.
Makima took one more step forward, standing at the very edge of the small stage area in front of the projection screen. She clasped her hands behind her back and regarded the team with something almost like pride. "I chose every person in this room myself," she said quietly. "After the betrayal, I vetted and watched and tested. You are the ones I trust with this mission and with each other's lives. There is no one else." Her voice, normally so composed, had a rare note of raw emotion – a fierce sincerity that hit them all in the chest. This was her way of saying she believed in them completely.
Some of the agents exchanged glances of steely resolve. Kobeni stood a little taller (a little less shakily), emboldened that Makima believed in even her timid self. Denji felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest – Makima's trust was like a drug to him, fueling his desire to prove himself. Aki thought of all the bitter losses and broken trust they'd endured; to hear Makima say you are the ones I trust was galvanizing. He placed his fist in his other hand and bowed his head slightly in a gesture of respect and promise.
Makima's eyes swept over them one last time. "If anyone here does not wish to take on this burden, this is your chance to speak." She let silence reign for a moment, scanning faces for hesitation.