I do not own Kim Possible, although I wish I did. So please do not sue me. You would not get much if you did.
Shades of Grey, Chapter 1: The Job
"The package has an ETA of approximately five minutes, move to secure the area!" a voice echoed into his earpiece. The command was answered only as he slowly strode off into the mass of people beginning to form.
He was tall and well built, with short dirty blonde hair. His build and posture making it obvious he was a professional in whatever he did for a living, his stride hinting at an overwhelming self-confidence and pride.
He made his way over to the corner of a recently vacant apartment complex, trying his best to blend in with the crowd. He found this harder than usual seeing as he was wearing a suit and stood inches above everyone else; however, it greatly helped that it was night and the only light was coming from nearby street lamps.
He patiently waited for one of his comrades, his face showing no emotion or anxiety thanks to years of hard training and experience. After scanning the large and bustling crowd for what was about five minutes he spotted his associate and slowly made his way over.
This other man was just slightly shorter than the first, but was just as in shape if not more so. He also wore a suit along with a pair of very dark sunglasses which hid his eyes perfectly. Together they made their way through the abnormal amount of people filling the streets of the small rural town. In reality it could be considered more of a village stuck in the past than a town if it was not for the one mark of industrialization within a hundred miles: the oil wells.
The town had grown in significance, but not in numbers, due to the international chaos over the dwindling oil reserves. A major oil discovery recently made near the town, caused it to gain a sudden popularity almost overnight and led the visit of a very prominent figure to the area. Of course the whole population turned out for this, as they had never seen anything like it before. They had grown happy with the slow modernization of their little community, which was clearly shown by the somewhat modern buildings and older style rural housing sitting side by side all throughout the small town.
The mass of people was quickly becoming frustrating for the two men in suits who had to push their way through the dirty and excited watchers. It soon became obvious the short parade like entrance would be taking place soon and they were not in the position they needed to be in. Giving up any attempt at subterfuge, the two took off at a hard jog through the assembled people.
Unbeknownst to them, a set of dark eyes followed their every move.
The two men finally made it to the back of the medium sized local office of the oil wells, sure their target would come out through the back if there was trouble. They knew if there was in fact trouble they had to be ready because if not, their employers would not be very lenient, at all.
"The package has arrived, stay alert!" came the ominous voice. At this command both pushed the side of their jackets away to reveal two Sigs P229s *. Seconds later their 'getaway car' pulled up, although it was more of a limo with pitch black windows and with what could be assumed as armored plating. Four more associates rush out of the limo, three armed with MP5s and one a Remington 870, to help secure the area and to make sure nothing could go wrong.
The original two suited figures looked at each other knowing there was trouble. They knew from recent events and the talks of needed upgraded security for their target that their mission was not going to be simple.
"Package has entered the office, be ready for anything!" the familiar voiced echoed into their ears. The six then formed a defensive perimeter, with the original two watching the door, two guarding the limo, and the two watching the small side street which happened to be the only way in or out. The initial two shared one last look before it happened…and all hell broke loose.
Three shots were fired in rapid succession causing pandemonium to quickly follow. "Package is intact! Say again, intact!" yelled the voice in their ears before it was silenced by more shots.
They readied themselves for anything, or so they thought. The door suddenly flew open brutally as two more men similarly dressed, also armed with Sigs, ran out covering a third bent low between them. As quickly as possible he was rushed to the waiting vehicle, and shoved in. One of the original two climbed in. As the door was shut he asked forcefully in a deep voice while patting at the man's body, "Don't worry, Sir. We have the limo's exit strategy covered. Are you okay? Have you been hit?"
The other looked up, his face serious and marked by several worry lines, "No, I don't believe so. We should get out of this place before anymore useless violence takes place."
The Secret Service agent quickly agreed, signaling the driver to proceed as the others remained to safeguard the withdrawal of the President of the United States.
Any observing would have been horrified, here was one of the most beloved presidents in history covered in the blood of his faithful bodyguards. He definitely inspired sacrifice in these men more so than most prior leaders, whether it be his calming, assuring voice or the radiance of wisdom given off by him, partially from white hair which he had gained only a year prior.
All thoughts, however, were pushed away by the Secret Service agents as they formed a broad defensive perimeter around the limo. The agent inside the limo yelled to the driver, "Get us out of here now!"
After several silent moments the agent pushed the driver to get his attention, but was horrified when he fell to the side lifeless. The agent immediately jumped out of the limo to evaluate the current situation only to find the seven other agents laying on the ground in pools of blood.
"Shit! Stay inside the limo!" the blonde haired agent ordered as he pulled the drivers body out and shut the doors.
"Package compromised, need back up!" he yelled into his microphone as he secured the outer perimeter.
"Nuh uhh uhh, I wouldn't really appreciate that you know," came a soft, teasing voice that made his hair stand up. The agent looked everywhere but all he could see was an abandoned alley with only shadows scattered throughout.
"Just be smart and give up. These other men had to find out the hard way that you can't defeat me," called the voice from what seemed like a completely different direction.
The agent scanned the alley for the hostile, "You cant get away with this. The Package is secure."
There is a short eerie silence followed by the soft voice replying, "Phh! You think he is safe? Nothing is safe from me."
Before the agent could react a dark, cloaked figure dropped behind him as silent as a feather would hit the ground, and pushed two unbelievably sharp blades through his chest. The gasps of pain were short lived as he stumbled onto the cold, hard ground lifeless. The figure quickly fell back into the shadows barely allowing even a glimpse of their form.
Inside the limo the there was complete silence until the radio suddenly crackled to life, "Sir, reinforcements have secured the area. Open the doors so we can extract you to a secondary location."
"Agent, what is your verification?" the president asked in order to confirm the voice was truly an ally.
"Whiskey Hotel Sierra Sierra. A Pathfinder in the city is as good as a fish on land.*"
"Very well," the president said as he steps out of the limo, only to be greeted by shadows. As he stares into the darkness he could feel an overwhelming sense of dread hanging in the heavy, damp air. In order to regain some semblance of control he stood to his full height and yelled at his invisible enemy, "Do you even know whats going to happen to you? I am the President of the United States! You surely know you will pay for this?!"
After several seconds, a figure steps out wearing a black cloak with a hood covering its face. Any sign of facial features is erased by the blackness of the shadow given off by the hood. The thing that caught his eye more than anything was the dark green like stripes running over the cloak. It was somewhat large and flowing, enough so to conceal small movements by the figure and to help it blend into the shadows. It is only after inspecting this does he just catch the glimpse of a much lighter green fabric underneath it. It appears to be rather tight fitting like a jumpsuit, giving him the idea he should know who this was. He is, however, brought out of his thoughts by the mysterious figure's voice.
"I know who you are, and I will be paid quite a fortune for this. And as to any consequences, all that will be left here is several bloody bodies. I will be long gone and everyone will think it was the Iranians and the Russians! But you know it is such a shame, you were actually a decent president. Oh well, a job is a job after all. You do yours and I do mine."
The last thing the cherished President of the United States saw before he was stabbed through the heart was a pair of piercing emerald eyes penetrating the shadow of the hood before total darkness consumed him.
*-Sig Sauer P229- a German made handgun, officially used by the US Secret Service
*-This phrase doesn't really hold any significance, just a verification phrase I made up. Pathfinder is the made up Secret Service title for this president.
AN: So this story is going to be a much more militarized take on Kim Possible. The first several chapters will be pretty combat heavy until the plot develops and then it will die down. I also intend this to be Kigo, however, the story will not completely revolve around it since the main plot is fairly independent. This is my first attempt at any multi-chapter fiction so input of nearly any kind is welcome.
Thank you to Love Robin who did beta work on this for me. I started this awhile ago so there are mistakes since I was just starting to write fiction, but hopefully there are not too many.