Kobeni mustered a tiny, proud smile at that – she had spent hours printing and organizing those forms.
Tachibana looked around at all of them. His gaze softened almost imperceptibly. In this dim bunker, he saw not just evidence and suspects, but people – these agents, barely out of their teens, some of them, sacrificing their safety and sanity to unmask the vipers in their midst. The grizzled attorney felt a pang of something akin to affection. It had been a long time since he'd been part of a crusade like this. He'd thought those days were behind him, buried under cynicism and bureaucracy. Yet here he was, and damned if he wouldn't give it everything he had.
"Listen," he said gruffly, "I've pored over more corruption cases than I care to remember. Seen some slip away on technicalities that made my blood boil. But this time—" He slapped the folder on the table for emphasis, "this time we're going to nail every single one of them to the wall." His lined face was fierce with conviction. "They won't slither out of this."
Makima's absence hung over the room – she was fighting her own battle in the political arena – but her trust in this team was manifest in Tachibana's presence. Hiroshi nodded firmly at the lawyer's words. "Failure is not an option," he affirmed quietly.
Around the table, the team exchanged glances. They were exhausted – dark circles under eyes, bandages on Aki's arm from a scrape at the Shinomiya infiltration, Kobeni's fingers still quivering slightly from her nerve-wracking bug plant, Denji's knuckles raw from where he'd punched a wall earlier to vent – but they were united. And they were so very close.
A monitor in the corner showed a live feed of Director Takeda's office: Takeda sat at his desk, looking over some documents with a bored expression, utterly unaware that half a dozen cameras and mics were capturing his every move. He likely believed he'd have a pleasant weekend ahead, never suspecting that by the next sunrise he might be in handcuffs.
Hiroshi followed Tachibana's gaze to that screen. "Takeda…" he murmured.
"You have enough on him?" Tachibana asked, tone almost casual. But underlying it was the knowledge that taking down a branch director – a man with friends in high places – required an especially tight case.
Aki answered, "We do. Sako's testimony, Hayase's testimony, multiple recorded orders from him instructing data suppression, the payment records from Shinomiya's shell company directly to him, and Daisy even caught a flicker of guilt in his mind during a casual chat – which, while not court evidence, at least guided us where to dig."
Tachibana's lips curled wryly. "Mind-reading Pokémon… well, if only we could submit that to the judge." He chuckled dryly at the thought. "No matter. The money trail and communication logs will suffice. And perhaps one of his underlings will flip on him when pressed."
Kishibe cracked his knuckles. "One will. They'll be looking at life imprisonment or worse; someone will deal for leniency by spilling Takeda's personal orders."
Denji grinned with wolfish anticipation. "Can't wait to see the look on that smug bastard's face."
Hiroshi remained silent, eyes still on the monitor. In his mind, he saw not just Takeda but all the faces of the traitors he had greeted each day with a smile. Soon, he would greet them as their captor. Soon.
Tachibana snapped his notebook shut. "Alright. You've done damn well. The final piece…" He paused, realizing something. "Hiroshi, you haven't mentioned one thing: evidence directly tying this network together in one stroke. A linchpin."
Hiroshi and Aki exchanged a look. "We were missing one link," Hiroshi admitted. "A solid connection between the PSIA traitors and the foreign intelligence meddling – proof that can't be denied. We've collected bits and pieces: mentions of Jackal, some coded bank payments from overseas accounts. But nothing explosive yet."