Required Legal Crapola:
I don't own nuttin. K.P. belongs to Disney, and I'm not making anything off of this. 'Nuff said!
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Foreword:
This is a (hopefully) brief continuation of my story "Where Eagles Dare." My overall intent is for this piece to wind-up bridging the gap between that work and another that is still in the planning stages. Whether or not I actually pull it all off, of course, remains to be seen. By my current outline, this should be about two chapters in length, but I reserve the right to change my mind at any time. It's my story… I can do that!
In any case… take a look, leave a review, be kind, and rewind!
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- Chapter One -
Ask any high school student worth his or her salt, and they'll gladly explain to you the general principal of a meteorite. The physical equation of speed, friction and temperature is so elementary in its nature that anyone of average intelligence will find little difficulty in grasping its subtleties.
When you are the meteorite, however, the equation quickly takes on entirely new levels of meaning.
Outside the protective bubble of the canopy, the entire world shone bright orange. A bright, blistering glow infused with a burning intensity, only to be sporadically broken by streaks of brilliant white as air molecules were ionized by the intense heat. It seemed as though the air itself was on fire as the duo plunged headlong toward the earth far below, their speed well into the hypersonic range.
For Kim Possible, it was a rare moment of wonderment. In all her globe-hopping travels she had been exposed to many weird and wonderful sights, but often found her self too busy duking it out with some muscle-bound good to even look up, let alone appreciate the view.
Now however, with Ron busy at the controls, and nothing to do but sit and wait, she could finally take a moment to simply observe, taking in every last detail of nature's spectacular light show.
She had always enjoyed fireworks; that much was for certain. Growing up, she would look forward to both Independence Day and the Middleton Days Festival like no other dates on the calendar. The intense combinations of color, light and sound captivated her imagination and sent her young spirit soaring like few other things could.
But such displays of patriotic fervor, however, were little more than overpriced matchsticks when compared to the scene she was now witnessing. The light was absolutely stupefying in its intensity, and even through the specially insulated glass of the canopy, the heat forced her to shy away. She found herself mesmerized by the display, the bubble-top canopy providing a grandstand view to the inner machinations of the cosmic furnace.
Then, all too soon, the show was over, the brilliant whites and oranges replaced by the dark blue sky of high altitude. The re-entry phase of their journey was over, and now it was time to return to the more mundane experience of conventional flight.
Their trip had taken them directly over the earth's northern pole, and now, as Sky Rat decelerated into the high supersonic range, the pair could see all of northern Europe spread out beneath them. From this altitude, one did not experience the sensation of motion. Instead, one felt as though they were hanging motionless in the sky, suspended by an invisible cosmic thread as the earth turned slowly beneath them. Gradually, the continent below them became larger, with geographic features such as mountain ranges growing clearer. Soon, the familiar boot-shaped image of the Italian peninsula loomed large in the windscreen, appearing inverted from its more familiar orientation on maps. Rivers began to emerge from the muddled browns and greens of the landscape, and the Tomcat shuddered with the force of a sonic boom as its speed dropped below Mach one.
"All right, then! Secure your tray table and bring your seat back forward." Ron called out as he executed a wide, swinging turn over the Ligurian Sea and drew a heading toward the Arno River. "I'm bringing us in."
Cinching her harness tight around her, Kim cracked a smile when she thought of what was happening. In the past, Ron had always been so awkward and hesitant on missions. The fear he always felt would manifest itself in a thousand different ways, working itself into his actions and mannerisms, resulting in the characteristic clumsiness that had all but became his trademark over the years. Sure, he had learned to overcome these fears, but that didn't mean that they weren't still there. It simply meant that he had developed an alternate set of responses for dealing with them.
But now, things were different. Ron still had issues with self-confidence, and his usual clumsy-streak was still very much present, but these were confined to the ground. All of that changed once he was in the air.
Once airborne, he became a completely different person. He was cool and confident, skilled and courageous, and through it all he scarcely seemed to break a sweat. He could execute advanced maneuvers with expert precision, and hold his own with the world's best. He was in his element: A natural-born pilot.
Bringing Sky Rat in with the ease of an old pro, Ron gently settled the massive fighter down onto the main runway of Pisa's Galileo International Airport, and taxied to a stop in front of the executive jet hangar. Within moments they were on underway once again, the ride that Wade arranged having been there to meet them.
"So what's the sitch here, Wade?" Kim asked, cueing the Kimmunicator on her wrist.
"Well, from my scans, it looks like the Seniors are going to use some sort of gravitational tractor beam." Wade informed his chief field operative. "The energy signatures I'm picking up seem pretty clear."
"All right, then… I guess we know how they plan to move the tower." Kim pondered aloud, quickly forming a mental picture of the situation. "Do we have a fix on their location?"
"Affirmative." Wade coolly admitted. "And I've really got to hand it to them this time. They've gone all out in the creativity department."
"Say again?" Kim questioned as the car rolled to a stop. "Just what do you mean by 'creativity?'"
"Their lair, Kim." Wade explained as the heroic duo stepped out of car and onto the street. "It's not so much a lair as it's a…"
"A blimp?" Ron asked, craning his neck upward to look at the large object floating overhead.
"Technically, it's a dirigible." Wade informed. "Scans show a definite internal framework."
"Yeah, yeah… To-may-to, to-mah-to." Ron groused. "Let's just get back to the airport so we can finish this thing and get home before Bueno Nacho closes."
"What are you talking about?" Kim questioned, finding herself quite surprised by Ron's sudden willingness to leave a mission incomplete.
"Uh, hello? Airport? Plane? Zap the big, floaty thing? Leave?" Ron sarcastically explained, thinking that it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Ron, you can't just shoot it down." Kim insisted.
"I beg your pardon? We've got the most advanced air-to-air systems on the planet at our disposal. I can knock down Hindenburg Junior here in about three seconds, and that's if I stop for a soda along the way."
"Stop and think about this for a second, Ron." Kim suddenly commanded. "This is a populated area. If we shoot that thing down, it's gonna fall on innocent people."
"Ohhhhhh… right! I gotcha!" Ron sheepishly admitted before continuing.
"So what's the plan, then?" he asked, deferring to Kim's better judgment. He had learned that while he may be a top-notch pilot, he was still rather clumsy while on the ground. The cockpit was his domain, and Kim was his backup, but as soon as their boots touched terra firma, Kim was the one calling the shots.
"Simple," Kim replied matter-of-factly as she reached for the grapple on her belt. "We do this the old-fashioned way."
Stepping up to Kim's side and pulling his own grapple from its holster, Ron looked up at the large, cylindrical ship above them and was consumed by a sudden thought.
"You know what, Kim?"
"Hmmmm…"
"This sort of reminds me, it's been like forever since my mom fixed sausage for dinner."
"Ron!" Kim moaned, rolling her eyes in disbelief. "Is that all you ever think about? Finding food?"
"No way, KP." He replied with a smile. "I think about eating it too."
"Natch." She moaned again, not knowing how she hadn't seen that one coming. "Gastronomical issues aside, are we ready to go?"
"Game on, KP!" came Ron's enthusiastic reply. "Let's kick this pig!"
And with that battle cry, the two teens clicked their "retract" buttons, and were instantly zooming upward through the air.
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Hooded gray eyes looked down over the ancient city below, taking in the almost poetic beauty of it all. With all the color and style of a medieval fairy tail, the neat rows of tiled roofs stretched for miles before meeting the crystal blue waters of the Ligurian Sea, and at the center of it all was one of the worlds most famous landmarks: The legendary Piazza dei Miracoli and its signature tower. The scene was fitting of a masterpiece painting. It was the perfect setting…
…For villainy.
"Soon…" the distinguished-looking old mad chortled as he leaned on his cane. "Soon the feeble politicians will grovel before me, begging for the right to cave to my demands." He laughed once again, reflecting on how flawlessly his latest plot had been executed so far.
His laughter was cut short by a distinct ringing sound that emanated from his pocket.
"Ahhh… As usual, the weaklings are right on schedule." He chuckled to himself as he pulled the cell phone from his jacket and placed the small device to his ear.
"Senior Senior Senior here, ready to fulfill all your ransoming needs." He joyfully stated, confident in his inevitable victory. His face quickly soured, however, once he heard the voice on the other end.
"I thank you for your concern, young man," he grumbled into the mouthpiece, "but I can assure you that we are quite satisfied with our current long distance service."
He hung up abruptly, wondering if his next plot should target the telemarketing industry.
"Junior!" he called out as he turned around. "Did you deliver the ransom demands as I instructed?"
"Of course, father." A well-tanned young man replied, not even looking up from the glossed pages of his fashion magazine. "I faxed them to the city hall people, just as you said."
"And how much did you demand?"
"A gazillion dollars."
"That's not a real number, Junior!"
"But it sounds so exciting."
Gray eyes glared at their owner's progeny, and an unspoken voice muttered an oath. Long had Senior Senior Senior dreamed of having his son one day take over what was quickly proving to be the new family business. But as time went by, however, the prospect of this seemed less and less likely. There was a sad fact to face, and that fact was that his sole offspring was a little more than just a few pixels short of a clear picture. Regardless of what the age-old metaphor may say, sometimes the apple falls a great distance from the tree.
Slumping his aged shoulders in resignation, the Senior patriarch made his way over to the far side of the cabin where a large ray gun-like device sat idle. Pressing a button on the console, a sliding panel opened to reveal a complex array of controls and display screens.
"Since it now seems that our terms will not be met," he thought aloud as he began the multi-step process of powering up the gravitonic cannon, "I might as well try out my newest toy."
"Sorry, but play time is officially over." A voice suddenly called out from the shadows along the far side of the cabin.
It was a voice that the elderly villain knew all to well.
"Ah, Kim Possible, my worthy adversary." Senior Senior Senior remarked as he turned around to face the teen heroine. "So our paths have crossed again, it would seem."
"Fitting, because I'm plenty cross right now." Kim retorted as Ron stepped up silently beside her. "So why don't you just be a good little villain and give up now."
The Senior patriarch simply laughed lightly at the remark.
"As much as I would love to honor your request, I'm afraid that your youth and skill is no match for my evil and treachery." He said, as two hulking figures stepped out of the shadows to flank the heroes on either side.
"Have you met my body guards…?"
"Evil and Treachery?" Kim asked, obviously un-amused by the well-choreographed display. "Yeah, we've been introduced."
"Well hey, I haven't." Ron remarked, walking over to one of the refrigerator-shaped gentlemen and offering his hand. "Hi! I'm Ron Stoppable. I'm the sidekick!"
The man simply took the offered hand and squeezed… hard.
"Gaaaaahhh… Yikes! That's some grip you've got there killer!" Ron cried, pulling his hand away as quickly as he could. "KP, maybe you should take this one. I don't think he likes me too much."
"Nah, ya' think?" came Kim's sarcastic reply.
The two teens took defensive stances and readied themselves for battle, eyeing their respective opponents warily.
Treachery struck first with a right-hand jab that Kim easily sidestepped. This was then followed by a left cross that she was able to duck underneath, landing a blow of her own to the goon's exposed midsection, doubling him over as the wind was driven from his lungs. She smiled as she realized that to spite the immaculate suits and ominous nicknames, these two were no different than the hired muscle that she was so used to facing. They were just big slabs of beef with far more braun than brains.
Taking a moment to glance over her shoulder, Kim had to admit that Ron was doing surprisingly well. Where previously he would have been running around, screaming like a sick chicken, now he was actually standing his ground and holding his own.
She smiled as she thought about the past three months that Ron had been away. At the time, the ordeal had seemed almost unbearable for her, but looking back, it was all like a bad dream: An agonizing experience that quickly fades the moment one awakes.
And besides, she had to admit, the benefits of the ordeal were totally spanking.
Ron may have been trained as a pilot, but flying wasn't the only thing his instructors had taught him. In addition to aerial skills, he had learned basic hand-to-hand combat techniques and new tactics for evasion.
However, that didn't explain his new found banter skills.
"Evil, huh?" he asked, slowly backing-up before the hulking goon's advance. "Be honest now… That's a stage name, isn't it?"
Evil said nothing, lashing out with a roundhouse punch that Ron artfully dodged.
"I mean, c'mon," Ron continued, "nobody has a name that's that perfectly suited. Throw us bone here, fer Pete's sake!"
"It's Lamar." Treachery spoke up, not looking up from his battle with Kim.
"Lamar?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. "Dude, that's like the most twisted name I can think of for a villain."
Lamar blanched, and abruptly spun around to face his partner, completely disregarding his fight with the blond-haired boy before him.
"Well as long as we're on the subject of names, Mister 'I-Can-Keep-A-Secret,'" he growled, glaring at his so-called comrade, "let's be sure to include full disclosure, Melvin!"
"Melvin?" Kim asked in shock. "I'm fighting a guy named 'Melvin?'"
"I take it back." Ron stated flatly. "That's the most twisted villain name I can think of. No wonder you guys use aliases."
"You want full disclosure?" Melvin shouted, getting up into Lamar's face. "Let's talk about that time last week when you got confused brushing your teeth and grabbed the Preparation H by mistake!"
"Eewwww!" the two teens winced in unison.
"That's it! It's go time!" Lamar responded, lunging for Melvin's throat. An instant later, both men were obscured in a frenzied flurry of punches, kicks and miscellaneous gouges.
Senior Senior could only place his face in his hand and sigh as he watched the unfolding spectacle. He always made it a point to by the best, and yet somehow, this was still what he wound up with. Sometimes, he had to admit, it really didn't matter if one paid retail.
"So, I guess good help is hard to find, huh?" Ron casually asked, stepping up beside the octogenarian outlaw.
"Yes, unfortunately this is true." Senior sighed, a look of total resignation displayed across his face.
Then, his expression suddenly changed to a sinister smile.
"But you can always count on family." He added with a chilling tone.
"Junior!" he shouted to his son. "Get them!"
"Get them what?" Junior replied, obviously oblivious to the situation. "You mean like a cold beverage or something? Shouldn't we be having one of the servants do that?"
"Ooh! You got another one of those juice boxes?" Ron broke in with barely-contained enthusiasm. "I so loved the one from last time."
"Allow me to rephrase." Senior growled, his patience obviously growing threadbare. "Attack!"
"Well then why did you not just say so?" Junior asked as he began his charge.
"Ron!" Kim cried out as the superficial super-villain advanced. "I'll handle Junior! You get that ray thingy!"
"On it, KP!" Ron replied, dashing toward the still-exposed control panel.
With laser-like focus, he made his way across the cabin, eyes locked on his target. So much so, in fact, that he failed to notice the cane that the elder Senior had extended into his path.
For Ron, it was a strange sensation. One second he was sprinting across a beautifully tiled floor, the image of his objective locked clearly in his mind. The next second, he was airborne, sailing headlong toward that same objective, with no apparent means of stopping himself or altering his trajectory.
With the laws of physics being what they are, his impromptu flight quickly reached its inevitable conclusion, and he slammed head first into the controls, leaving a large dent and several shattered display screens to mark his passing. Sparks flew from the demolished controls and tendrils of smoke wafted from access panels near the base of the unit, indicating that it was now permanently out of commission.
"Mission accomplished." Ron managed to weakly call out before collapsing to the floor, the last remnants of consciousness fleeing his mind like cockroaches before a floodlight.
"Ron!" Kim cried out at seeing her boyfriend go down in a heap. She began to run toward his fallen form… And was abruptly stopped by two strong arms wrapping themselves around her, pinning her own arms to her sides.
"You've got exactly three seconds to let me go, Junior," she growled over her shoulder, "before you wind up with a voice that only dogs can hear!"
"So what is it exactly that you are saying" Junior asked playfully, clearly enjoying the sudden turn of events.
"I'm saying PUT ME DOWN!!!" she screamed, violently squirming against her restraints.
It was then that she noticed the elder Senior opening the cabin door.
"Uh… on second thought," she stammered, "maybe I'm being a little hasty about things."
"Actually, I think you make a very good point." Junior replied as he walked briskly toward the opening, affording the struggling heroine a panoramic view of the city far below.
He paused briefly in the opening, making sure that she had adequate time to absorb the scene, and its implied significance.
"Now remember Miss Possible," Senior Senior chuckled as he glanced out the gaping maw of the door, "it's not the fall you need to worry about. It's the sudden stop at the end."
And with that final rejoinder, she was out, tumbling end over end in a manner that seemed it would never cease, watching as an alternating sequence of earth and sky flashed before her eyes with dizzying speed. Her long, auburn locks whipped into her eyes, obscuring her vision, and the roar of the wind in her ears was positively deafening.
Mentally fighting through all of the disorientation, she knew that she had to act, and act fast. Although the Senior's dirigible had been high up, it hadn't been that high, and she only had a precious few seconds to save herself before she made a major impact on the world, so to speak.
Years of cheerleading experience were quick to cut in, and she instinctively extended her left arm in an attempt to stabilize her fall. The move had the desired effect, and within a second, her violent tumble had become a steady freefall. Rolling onto her stomach, she scanned the city below, and quickly zeroed in on the most prominent landmark she could find… The tower.
In a flash, she had drawn her grapple and taken dead aim. A strong squeeze of the trigger sent steel talons streaking through thin air, and over the roar of the wind, she could hear the distinctive and satisfying sound of a metallic "clank" as the grapple found its mark. She tightened her grip and braced herself for what she knew would come next.
The line of the grapple snapped taut, straining the high-strength, Kevlar-based cord to its limit. Kim hung on for dear life as she was suddenly pulled into a graceful, sweeping arc beneath the tower's ominously tilting precipice. Centrifugal force was in control of the sitch now, as her momentum carried her skyward, arcing back over the famous structure, affording her one more look at the picture-postcard beauty that was this icon of renaissance Italy.
Then, she was falling once again, the ground rushing up to meet her. A flick of her thumb activated the grapple's "retract" feature, and she suddenly found herself hanging like a piñata, swaying gently in the breeze, just six inches off the ground. It was a heck of an entrance, even she had to admit.
Completely ignoring the crowd that was now quickly coalescing around her, she dropped down to the ground and activated the Kimmunicator on her wrist, recalling Wade's smiling image once again.
"Hey Kim!" he jovially called out upon seeing her image on his monitor. "Met with any success yet?"
"Yeah, we can pretty well call the plot busted," Kim tersely stated, casting an eye toward the retreating form of the Zeppelin, "but now we've got a whole new sitch to deal with."
"Ooh… Complications?" Wade inquired, readying his fingers to work another round of their patented techno-magic.
"Affirmative. The Seniors have Ron, and I think I've got a good idea of where they're headed."
"Sounds like you're gonna need a ride to Senior Island?"
"Please and thank-you."
"Don't mention it… Ride in five! Wade out." And with that, the transmission ceased.
Lowering her hand to her side and gazing up at the now empty sky, Kim heaved a sigh that was equal parts dejection and worry.
"Hang in there, Ron." She silently said to herself. "I'm coming for you."
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Author's Notes:
Geographical Background: While there's hardly a person alive who hasn't heard of Pisa's famous leaning tower, there's far more to the city than just the world's most famous engineering failure.
Located on the west coast of Italy in the region of Tuscany, it's situated along the banks of the Arno River, a short distance away from the coast. At the city's western outskirts, one will find the mouth of the Arno River: The point where it empties into the Ligurian Sea. (An offshoot of the Mediterranean Sea.)
Galileo Airport: Pisa's International Airport. Named for the renown 16th century Italian Astronomer and Physicist Galileo Galilei, Galileo Airport is the primary port of entry for individuals visiting the Tuscan region of Italy.
Although he is perhaps most famous for perfecting the design of the telescope, and for his subsequent conflicts with the Catholic Church, Galileo is also noted for having conducted a series of experiments involving acceleration and gravity. By dropping a series of different-sized wooden balls from the top of Pisa's world-famous tower, he was able to determine that mass, not volume, determines an object's acceleration.
Dirigible versus Blimp: It's a minor distinction that Wade makes here, but nonetheless a correct one. A blimp, by technical definition, is just a large, cylindrical-shaped bag filled with a lighter-than-air gas to provide lift. Fitted with engines for propulsion and a crew compartment, it's really little more than an aerodynamically correct balloon.
Dirigibles, on the other hand, have a rigid internal framework, usually fabricated from a lightweight metal such as aluminum. The lifting gas is carried in a series of gas cells, which are large, cylindrical bags, mounted in the upper sections of the framework. The lower sections can then be used to carry either passengers or freight. In this way, a dirigible can possess a much greater payload capacity than its non-rigid cousins.
Piazza dei Miracoli: "Plaza of Miracles" when translated, this is the name traditionally given to the grounds of the Pisa Cathedral. The plaza is a large, open space consisting of both paved and grassed areas, and encompassing the four main elements of the cathedral complex: The Duomo, as the Cathedral itself is known, the Baptistery, the Camposanto, or churchyard cemetery, and the Campanile: The technical name for the world-famous tower.
Well folks, that pretty much does it for chapter one. Another plot has been foiled, but at what cost? What do the Seniors have in store for Ron? Will Kim be able to rescue him once again? Do you really need to ask that question? Who invented the cotton gin? Why don't I just shut up now?
Everyone take care, now… and I'll see you with chapter two!
Nutzkie…