SPRING 2008

Ron and Kim stood back to back as the circle of toughs started to close in on them. It had been two years since the end of high school for them and they were still helping others in need. Specialized school arranged for them by Global Justice on Kim's behalf, and Yamanouchi on Ron's allowed them the flex time for their daring doo.

Graduating high school, along with the 'retirement' of Doctor Drakken and Shego, allowed them to 'graduate' to grittier villains. These were not the same megalomaniacs that were out to rule the world, or at least a portion of it; these were the more pragmatic villains that wanted wealth and power to do what they wanted. Gone were the days of blasters and stunners, the days of henchmen hired in bulk from Henchco. These were the days of knives, chains, and guns. Luckily these thugs looked to have not brought any firearms, which was a relief to our dynamic duo.

"Remember, the master wants them alive, but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun," chortled the presumed leader of the band.

Kim and Ron kept turning, keeping their backs protected, but not seeing any way out of this without physical confrontation. The warehouses on the dock didn't allow an adequate height for grapple gun extraction. The circle of flesh started to close, and Kim could see the foreheads of the men and women develop ridges, and the canines elongate.

"Ron, did you see that?" Kim queried.

"Sure did, KP. Think they are synthodrones?" responded her blond companion.

At that moment one of the bruisers to their side was not there. Neither could say exactly what happened since it was in their peripheral vision, but all of a sudden it was as if he had turned to dust. This was evident by a cloud of said dust drifting in the wind. There was a faint sound and then a thud as Kim saw an arrow strike another attacker and then said attacker reduced to dust in front of her eyes.

At this time the circle of toughs started to scan the roof tops. There was a stalemate of silence locked in the anticipation of action. The two partners didn't let down their guard, the thugs weren't about to let them go, and the unknown party obviously had the ability to dispatch who they wanted at will. A crescendo of probability crashed when a bolt caught the presumed leader in the throat and four girls dropped from the roof top of a nearby warehouse. The gang looked panicked as one of them yelled out, "Slayers!"

The next few minutes were a blur to Kim and Ron. The four girls, who could be no older than them at the most went through the bruisers like it was a training exercise. What bothered Kim the most was their use of lethal weapons. She counted three swords and an axe in their possession. The throng of heavies dispersed in clouds of smokes on what looked to be fatal hits to the neck. At lease Kim assumed they would be fatal since they went all the way through. Ron was puzzled by the times the toughs had been taken out with a wooden stick to the chest. Barely noticed was that the gang leader had pulled the crossbow bolt from his throat and was making his way from the brouhaha, but noticed he was.

As the last gang member was dust a voice rang out from the top of the warehouse, "Genki, Frenki get him, and remember we need him alive! Huggin, Muggin, high guard! Go!" With that the four girls on the ground broke into two groups, one sprinted after the escaping man while the other two launched themselves up the nearest fire escape and could be seen by their shadows to be running along the roofs, matching their companions.

Kim and Ron almost started pursuit when the voice that had given the commands sounded again, "They'll catch him, don't worry. I have something that I would like to talk to you two about." Kim and Ron looked to the top of the warehouse and saw a man start to repel down. As he reached the ground, he unhooked his harness and turned to face the two adventurers. "Sorry about all of this; we honestly didn't expect you two here for another hour or so. By that time we would have had everything cleared out for you. Really wish your command and control would let us have a little warning sometimes, you know?"

Kim stepped forward and eyed that man. He stood roughly six foot two inches, give or take. Brown hair on his head and one brown eye, the left eye was covered by a patch. She could just make out some scaring around the edge of the leather to show that it was truly worn for medical reasons. (She suspected that Doctor Director wore hers for cosmetic purposes at times.) He wore a leather bomber jacket and what looked like a British tactical sweater underneath it. Sturdy blue jeans and a pair of leather workman boots finished the attire. Not the fashion in the least part of Kim commented on, but it was obvious that he was comfortable in it, and from the way that he carried himself, that it was all based on practicality. "Uh, sure, I wish so also. I had a date planned for tonight, but what are you supposed to do?"

There was a slight huff from Ron as Kim flinched. "That they stick with the schedule that they come up with," answered the man. He put a hand to his ear while he held up a finger to the two crime fighters. "Roger, good job, keep him secure and return to base. Double ice cream rations tonight all the way around Odin out." He glanced back to the warehouse, "Brunhilde, quarry has been secured, come on down." He looked back at the two, "Come along with me. I am sure you have questions."

Ron could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up more than they already were. "Who are you, and why should we go with you?" The blond could feel the MMP in the back of his mind, but it wasn't coming forward yet.

"For now you can call me Odin till we get somewhere secure. No use in scaring all of the quarry to ground for now, though rumors are sure to get passed around. As to the why, well, answers for one. Your people contacted us after you were already en route. When we intercepted the chatter we called them to let them know that this was one of our actions, but they wouldn't take our word for it," the voice carried a hint of anger, not malicious, but almost contempt like. "So, I gathered up a small squad and made our way here. We have bumped up our schedule on this op. Haste can get people killed unnecessarily. We come on stronger, they get nervous and try to push things quicker, or take a direct opposition, then innocents can easily get caught in the cross fire. If you two were attached as 'consultants' or whatever the muckity mucks want to call you, maybe we can handle things without much of a problem."

Neither Kim nor Ron realized that he was talking while walking, or that they were walking with him until he stopped at a large sedan. Ron looked at it and realized that it was a modified police cruiser. Possibly the types used in hot zones. There was a decidedly female form leaning against the driver side door; it was easy, even for Ron, to tell that she was off put by something.

Kim saw the man increase his smile. She had seen things like that before when someone was about to cajole another party. "Hey there, there is my girl with the most awesome of aim."

"Shut it, Boss Man, shut it and tell me why I have to have the name Brunhilde!" she said in a voice familiar to Kim and Ron as she leapt over the car, twisting, to land face to face with the cyclopean male, teal eyes and brunette hair now shown in the security light.

The two Global Justice Junior Agents' jaws dropped as they exclaimed as one, "Bonnie?"

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Author's Post Script:

Yes, Bonnie is a slayer. Yes, she actually did have her slayer abilities through high school, but they were limited by a spell so she could get used to them. Yes, she had to keep them hidden from people. No, it didn't help her demeanor.