The Claws of the Kitten
PART TWO - "Take Her Down!"
Author's notes: Many thanks to those who have read and commented on Part One: CajunBear73, CaptainDeadpool, NakedMoleDog, ScreamingPhoenix and Waveform. Speculation on where the story is going and what will happen is appreciate and encouraged.
Disclaimer: All characters, locations and situations drawn from the TV series Kim Possible are the property of Disney. The Field Museum belongs to the people of Chicago. Chicago professional sports teams belong to their respective owners. All other stuff in this story, and the plot, belong to me.
Monk's Cay, Just North of New Providence Island, The Bahamas, Late June
"Hey, Wade, got any news for me?" In the Kimunicator screen Wade's face reflected puzzlement.
"Hey, Kim, I thought you didn't want any new missions while your family is on this vacation. That's why I put a 'Hold' notice on the website."
"I don't mean new business," said Kim. "Have you heard anything more about La Chatonne?"
"You're still on her case, aren't you?" Wade frowned. "Well, I have found reports about nine thefts that might have been done by her, but I'm only sure about four of them." He tapped his keyboard and called up a list on a second monitor.
"Now, since she tried to rob the Field Museum in Chicago, - "
"Wade, I know about that one," Kim interrupted. "Ron and I were there, remember? We kept her from stealing that diamond."
"Right. But since then there's been just four times that she's been seen and identified. Once in Indiana, when she took that Civil War carbine with the built-in coffee mill, then at the British Museum, where she took the original manuscript of Alice in Wonderland, and the third time was in St. Louis." Wade shifted his gaze from the second screen to look at Kim. "You stopped her in St. Louis, too."
Kim nodded. The French cat burglar had tried to steal a Stradivarius violin from a special exhibit of musical instruments, and Team Possible had foiled her.
"But she still got away, Wade." Kim frowned. "What and where was the fourth robbery?"
"She took a Czarist Russian Easter egg from a private museum in New York City." He checked the second screen again and added, "That was two weeks ago."
"All small things that are worth a lot," Kim mused. "What's next, I wonder? The Hope Diamond?"
"Probably not," Wade commented. "She seems to go for something a bit different each time, so maybe she'll go for something bigger, next."
"Well, even though we're on vacation, if you hear anything, Wade, let me know about it." Kim's voice was very firm.
"I will. Say, what are you folks doing down there on New Providence, anyway? Besides enjoying the sand, sun, surfing and waterskiing, I mean."
"Actually, we're on a little island just north of New Providence, Wade. It's called Monk's Cay."
"I bet Ron didn't like that name when he heard it - monk's key," Wade chuckled. Kim mentally agreed. Even though the word was spelled C - A - Y, it was pronounced as if it was spelled K - E - Y, and anything that sounded like 'monkey' made Ron nervous.
"It's a few miles from Nassau," Kim went on. "Well, Daddy knows Doctor Wimsey, the person in charge of this oceanographic research submarine project, and she invited him to come down, see what it's all about, and take some time off with his family. She said it was time he looked under the sea instead of just out into space." Kim paused and Wade promptly began to sing, with a Jamaican accent to his voice.
"Under da sea. Under da sea. Science is better, down where it's wetter, take it from me."
Kim giggled for a moment, and then went on. "We got here two days ago, took a tour of Nassau, did some shopping and generally relaxed a bit. Today Doctor Wimsey is going to show us this minisubmarine they're testing. It's named Simon."
In the screen Wade grinned wickedly. "I get it! The name Garfunkel is too long to paint on it, right?"
"No, Wade, it's - " He interrupted her with a fresh comment.
"Wait, wait, don't tell me! The name Alvin has already been used for a minisub, and they don't like the name Theodore."
Kim gave Wade her 'annoyed' look. "No, Wade, it's named for Simon Lake, an early 20th-century pioneer submarine builder."
"Really?" Wade replied. "I've never heard of him before."
"Google the name," said Kim. "I'm sure you'll find something."
"I know, Kim," he chuckled, "I was just kidding."
A question that had been simmering at the back of Kim's mind happened to pop up just then, and she decided to get the answer.
"Wade? By any chance, are you a fan of any of the major Chicago sports teams? You know, the White Sox, the Bulls or the Bears?"
"Well, I don't follow any of those teams, Kim."
"How about the Cubs, or the Blackhawks hockey team?" Kim went on.
"Nope, neither one." Wade paused for a moment, and then added, "But the Chicago Rush! Oh, yeah!"
"The Rush?" Kim was bewildered. "I never heard of them. What do they play?"
"Arena football, Kim! It's all indoors, with special rules, . . . "
As Wade gushed on about his favorite team, Kim groaned, mentally. She had rather hoped that at least one person she knew was not a Chicago sports fan. I wonder if Rufus likes soccer? she absently mused.
"Uh, well, that's nice, Wade. Keep me posted about the French feline if you learn anything, okay?"
Wade's praise of the Chicago Rush stopped, his expression shifted back to 'mission business mode,' and he said, "I'll let you know anything about La Chatonne as soon as I hear it."
"Spankin', Wade! Talk to you later. Bye!"
"Bye, Kim!" Wade's image vanished as Kim shut off the Kimunicator.
Simon Testing Station, Monk's Cay
The Simon was about fifty feet long, and looked like a long cylinder with rounded ends, and bulging ballast tanks on both sides. A flat upper deck stretched almost the full length, with two hatches and a small metal frame over the head of the periscope, which was actually for surface running, Doctor Wimsey explained. "When the hatches are closed the pilot gets a television picture of what's around through that. It's shown on a screen in front of the pilot's station."
Doctor Patricia Harriet Wimsey was a short, slim woman in her early thirties. Since she was about the same size as Kim or Ron, the dark-haired scientist could easily move around in the cramped interior of the minisub. In fact, there was enough room for Kim, her father, Ron and Doctor Wimsey to get inside the control section of the Simon. The Doctor crouched in the small open space while Kim sat in the pilot's seat in front of the controls, Ron knelt in a small compartment forward of the control section, and James Possible sat toward the stern.
"Everything can be controlled from where you're sitting, Kimberly," the Doctor explained. "The ballast controls are to your left, and the Simon is steered with this control yoke, just like an aircraft."
"This must be the depth gauge," Kim observed, "but what's this second one?"
"That's the fathometer," Patricia replied. "It tells you how far above the ocean bottom you are."
Kim pointed to another instrument. "Gyrocompass, right?"
"Correct. The radiophone and sonarphone are on that upper panel to your left."
"And there's a GPS, I see," Kim pointed at another panel as she spoke.
"Very good! Perhaps I should hire you as an operator." Doctor Wimsey pulled down a folding arm that had a handle much like a computer game joystick on it. "For underwater work, around a wreck, for example, this handle controls the water jets for close-in maneuvering."
"How long can it stay underwater, Doctor?" Ron asked from the circular door in the forward bulkhead.
"The power cell is good for a year, while there's equipment to scrub the CO2 from the air and get oxygen from seawater, so the Simon can stay down almost indefinitely," Patricia answered. "So far the longest missions have lasted about twelve hours."
"Twelve hours?" Ron exclaimed. "But, what about food, and, um, ah, . . . "
"That compartment you're in has facilities for fixing meals, storage lockers for rations, and a trash bin."
Ron glanced around the small compartment, opened and closed two doors, and then lifted a folding seat.
"Oops!" Ron let the lid drop at once.
"And that's the chemical toilet," Doctor Wimsey added, with a grin. "Everything that the crew might find necessary." She pointed past Ron to a second circular door at the front of the small chamber. "Scientific equipment and observers go in the bow compartment, and . . . " She turned around to point past James Possible at the stern, " . . . the power cell, air scrubber, ballast pump and motor are located aft."
"And just one person can run the whole thing from right here? Spankin'," said Kim, happily.
"Patricia, I'm really impressed," said James. "This craft is a traveling, underwater research facility. You and your team should really be proud of it."
"We are," Doctor Wimsey replied. "Now, we can't all squeeze into the stern, but there's a spare power cell in the maintenance shed, so let's go ashore and I'll show you just what drives this thing, James."
As they reached the maintenance shed, Tim and Jim came trotting up, carrying their power-driven surfboards.
"What, didn't the sharks like the taste of you tweebs?" Kim remarked, but with a smile on her face at the same time.
"We just . . . "
" . . . outrun 'em," the twins answered, in their usual fashion.
"Well, come along, boys, Doctor Wimsey is going to show us a nuclear-electric power cell like the one in the Simon," said James. The twins immediately became very attentive.
"Atomic powered . . . "
" . . . surfboards? Yeah!" They exchanged a 'high-five,' and followed the others inside. A round, jug-like object about two gallons in volume sat on a support frame of heavy metal, in the middle of the room. Doctor Wimsey walked over to it.
"This has been in the minisub for six months," she explained. "We took it out and put in the spare last week, so this one can be checked for any signs of deterioration. It contains a small amount of a radioactive isotope, while most of the cell is a mechanism for drawing out the heat produced by nuclear fission as electricity. That powers the Simon and any added equipment that's fitted for a particular research mission."
"Is it dangerous?" asked Kim. "It can't explode like an atomic bomb, can it?"
"Oh, no, it's not dangerous at all," the Doctor assured them. "You could shoot at it, pound it with a sledgehammer, or drop it five kilometers from an aircraft, and it would just soak up the shocks. Of course, if you deliberately set up a positive feedback circuit on the cell and let it build up for an hour or so, you'd destabilize it. Then you'd get a self-sustaining reaction that would lead to an explosive discharge. But it would be a pretty small explosion."
"How big . . ."
". . . would it be?" Jim and Tim asked, eagerly.
"If the power cell did become unstable, and explosively discharged," Doctor Wimsey replied, "it would vaporize the Simon and everything in it, with a yield equal to roughly seven hundred tons of dynamite."
"Seven . . . hundred . . . tons . . . of dynamite?" Ron's voice rose two octaves as he spoke.
"That's all," said Patricia, "just a big bang. Nothing to worry about, really."
"Hmmm. Suppose this reaction got started," James Possible asked, thoughtfully. "What could you do about it?"
"If the cell was in the Simon, we'd run the craft out to sea, over the underwater canyon that's just to the north of New Providence. Then the pilot would get out and we could scuttle the minisub. A spare cell like this one would just be taken out in the launch and dumped." Doctor Wimsey smiled. "With a thousand feet of water over it, there'd be no danger to anyone or anything."
Simon Testing Station, Monk's Cay, Two Days Later
Since Monk's Cay was private property it wasn't overloaded with tourists, and it was possible for Ron and Kim to stroll along the shoreline by themselves. It was a very pleasant evening, near sunset, and the two teens were quietly enjoying their own company, and making plans for the rest of the vacation trip.
"So, KP, what's up for tomorrow? Take a boat over to Nassau, lay back and marinate on the beach for the day?"
"So that you can look at all the girls on the beach who are wearing bikinis, right? Especially the ones playing volleyball?" Kim's reply to Ron was clearly meant in fun, but he missed a step and gulped before answering.
"Ahh . . . well . . . they're there, I mean, I can't just chase them away, can I?" Ron appealed to his pocket-riding pet. "That wouldn't be right, would it, Rufus?" The mole rat grinned at Ron in a way that clearly meant, Get out of this one yourself, chum! and ducked back into Ron's pocket.
Kim chuckled. "Why look at other girls when you've got one right beside you?" she said, in a teasing tone of voice. Kim paused to pirouette in front of her partner and BFBF, showing off the halter-and-shorts outfit she was wearing.
Ron didn't answer immediately, but after admiring Kim's face and figure, he just stood and gazed at the setting sun, thinking furiously. Back in the old days, in this part of the world, pirates made people they didn't like walk the plank. Would Kim's father do that to him if Ron got too . . . cozy . . . with Kim? Ron dropped his eyes a bit and noticed the Simon observation and control booth at the end of the pier. Just then Kim's voice broke in on Ron's thoughts.
"Ron, I think there's somebody in the control booth! I just saw something moving at the door," said Kim in her 'mission mode' voice. "Come on, we'd better check it out."
As they trotted down the path and then out along the pier, Ron asked, "Maybe somebody's working on the tracking gear or the radiophone, KP."
"Not likely, this late in the day, Ron. And if there was, they'd have the lights in the booth turned on."
The shore-side door of the booth was slightly open, but the inside of the small building was dark. Kim reached inside, flicked the switch and jumped back as the lights came on. Nobody came out. A quick look inside showed that the place was empty, and nobody was hiding in it. Looking around, they saw a note taped to a computer screen. Kim grabbed it and quickly read it.
"What does it say, KP?"
"It's addressed to me! It says, 'When you read this, Kim Possible, you will know that you have failed. I will either steal the Simon, or destroy it.' It's signed with a drawing of a cat!" Kim closed her fist around the note in anger before tossing it on the table. "La Chatonne!"
Ron took a quick look out the window, and saw the little submarine was still secured to the dock. "KP, the Simon is still here!"
"Come on, Ron, maybe she's inside it!" Kim said, as she hurried out the door.
Moving stealthily they went down the gangway to the sub, where they saw that the Simon's main hatch, usually closed, was open. A dim light shone inside, but no one could be seen, and there was no sound of movement. Kim dropped into the Simon, ready to fight, and scanned the limited space. Ron followed a moment later, and they quickly checked the interior of the tiny vessel.
"No sign of anybody . . . maybe we scared her off."
"I don't think so, Ron. We don't know when that note was written. La Chatonne might have been here for some time." Kim scowled in frustration as she moved aft toward the engine space. "Say, what's that smell?"
Ron sniffed the air. "Like something is burning . . . " Kim scrambled further aft for a closer look at the machinery space, where the smell seemed to be coming from.
"Ron, the power cell has been sabotaged!"
"What do you mean, KP?"
"There's some sort of a circuit board in the wiring. I think it's building up to that explosion Doctor Wimsey told us about!"
They were both silent for a moment as the words of Doctor Wimsey came back to them. If the power cell exploded, it would have "a yield equal to roughly seven hundred tons of dynamite."
"It'll flatten half of Nassau when it blows!" Ron cried. Kim shook her head in disagreement.
"It's not that powerful. But it will level Monk's Cay down to the waterline. Mom, Dad, the tweebs, all the folks on the island . . . "
Kim nodded, as if she had come to a decision.
"Come on, Ron, let's get on deck and cast off the lines! Then we'll start the motor and head the Simon out to sea. When it explodes out there it won't wreck the island."
"But what about us, if we're on the sub?"
"I'll lock the controls to take it out and dive," Kim answered. "Once that's been done we can jump off and swim back here. And when the Simon is down in the submarine canyon, everybody will be safe."
On deck they quickly cast off all but one of the mooring lines. Then Kim handed the Kimunicator to Ron.
"Put this in the control booth, and leave Rufus to guard it, Ron. That way they'll be safe when we swim for it."
Ron raced back up the gangway and entered the booth. He parked the Kimunicator next to the telephone and put Rufus beside the device.
"Okay, Rufus, you keep this safe. KP and I'll be back before you know it!"
The naked mole rat snapped to attention, gave a salute with a front paw, and squeaked, "Okay!" Then Ron heard a splash outside, and a swishing sound, as if a boat had started moving. He jumped to the door of the booth and saw that the gangway to the Simon had fallen into the water and the mini-sub was pulling away from the dock, heading out to sea.
"KP? What are you doing? Wait for me!" Ron shouted, as a deadly idea popped into his mind.
Ron ran back into the control booth, grabbed the telephone and called Kim's parents. As soon as her father was on the line he blurted out, "The Simon is going to explode! And Kim is taking it out to sea! You better get down here, right now!"
James Possible understood the need for haste in a research situation when things go wrong, and didn't waste any time asking questions. He told Ron to call the security office, yelled for Ann and the twins, and hung up. Ron immediately contacted security and reported the theft of the Simon. By the time the Possibles had reach the control booth, Doctor Wimsey and two guards were there as well. Ron explained what had happened, and showed them the note from La Chatonne.
Doctor Wimsey told the guards to check around the pier for any signs of sabotage or theft. Then she handed James a pair of light-amplifying binoculars and told him to locate the running lights on the top deck of the minisub, while she tried to contact Kim on the radiophone. She switched it on, picked up the handset and pushed down on the 'talk' button.
"Control calling Simon. Control calling Simon. Come in, Simon. Over," said Patricia. A moment later the speaker above the window crackled with a reply.
"Simon to Control, I hear you loud and clear. Over." It was Kim's voice, coolly professional as it had been on every mission Ron could remember.
"Control to Simon. What are you doing, Kimberly? Please state your intentions. Over."
Kim's reply came clearly from the speaker. "Somebody set up a feedback circuit on the power cell, Doctor. The sort of thing you told us about, remember? I pulled the circuit off, but the cell is still getting hotter. I'm afraid it's become self-sustaining, and you know what that means. Over."
"Control to Simon," Patricia answered. "Yes, I understand. If the cell keeps heating up then it's too late to keep it from exploding. We have to get rid of it, fast. Over."
Kim answered immediately. "And the only way to get rid of it in time is to send the Simon out to sea and then have it submerge. Over"
"But there's no self-steering mechanism on the Simon," Doctor Wimsey protested. "And you can't make it dive by itself, Kimberly. Over."
Kim's voice in the radiophone stayed calm, but there was something chilling about her words. "I know that, Doctor. There's not enough time to scuttle it, so somebody has to take this thing out to sea and then dive it. Over."
Kim's father handed the light-amplifying binoculars to Patricia, took the radiophone handset and spoke into it in a firm, 'father-to-daughter' tone of voice.
"Kimmie-cub, this is your father speaking. Now, listen to me. Shut off the motor, get off that thing and swim for it. We'll come out in the motorboat and pick you up. Over." Kim's father's voice was flat calm, but he was obviously tense and worried.
"I can't do that, Daddy. The power cell is making strange noises now, and if I shut off the motor I think it will blow up. And if I leave the Simon running without somebody at the helm, it could circle back to the island, or go into Nassau harbor. Over," Kim's voice replied. Her mother took the radiophone.
"Kimmie, please, don't do this!" Ann momentarily forgot to release the 'talk' button, but then said, "Over," and did so.
"Mom? Are you there, too? Over."
"We're all here, Kim." Ann Possible had faced serious brain surgery operations with perfect calm, but now her voice quavered and her hands shook. "Me, your father, Tim and Jim. Come back to us, Kimmie, please! Over."
"Mom, are Ron and Rufus there? Could you put them on, please? Over."
Kim's mother mutely handed the radiophone to Ron, who pressed the 'talk' button and spoke.
"I'm here, Kim; so's Rufus." Rufus leaned forward from his perch on Ron's shoulder, and made his squeaky noise of greeting at the radiophone. Ron added, "Over," and released the 'talk' button.
"Okay. Listen, Ron, you take care of the Kimunicator for me, and Rufus, you take care of Ron. Got that? Over."
Ron nodded, then he gulped and said, "Got it, KP. Over."
Silence. Then Kim's voice came out of the speaker again, no longer coolly professional, but warm and loving, in a formal way.
"Listen, everybody. Mom, Daddy, Tim, Jim, Ron, and you too, Rufus: I - I love you all. Please, remember that."
Ron groaned. He felt as if his heart was being squeezed by a giant fist, and his lungs were unable to get enough air for him. This couldn't be happening! It had to be a nightmare. But he couldn't wake up. Kim's voice over the speaker gently continued.
"Ron, please tell your parents that I'm very grateful that they let you be my friend, and my partner." She paused briefly, and then continued in her cool, professional voice again. "I'm coming to the canyon now, so it's time to dive this thing. Hope I can get it deep enough in time," she added. "I'll have to sign off now, so, goodbye!" There was a sharp click in the speaker.
"No, Kimmie, don't!" There was no answer to Ann's cry. Dr. Wimsey had been able to keep the minisub's running lights in view, but now she lowered the binoculars and turned to the others.
"The topside lights are gone, so the Simon must have dived. The radio won't work, now. I'll try calling her on the sonarphone."
After several tries with the equipment, Doctor Wimsey shook her head.
"She must not have the sonarphone turned on. We depend on its beacon to give us the Simon's position, so I have no way to track her."
"I know who can track her," muttered Ron. He picked up the Kimunicator, snapped it on and savagely punched the button to call Wade.
"Hey, Ron, how's the vacation trip -- " Ron cut Kim's techno-friend off in mid-sentence.
"Wade, the Simon has been sabotaged and it's going to explode," Ron interrupted. "Kim started the motor, took it out to sea and dived it. Can you track the Simon? Hook in to the underwater warning system, maybe?"
Wade's expression and voice were both dubious.
"Ron, that Navy network is absolutely ultra-top secret! It's got layers of code words and encryption - "
"Kim is still in the Simon!" Ron yelled. "She's going down with it! Just do it, Wade!"
On the Kimunicator screen Wade's face registered shock and dismay as he understood what Ron's words meant. Instantly the young computer expert's fingers began moving over the keyboard in a flashing blur, to the buzz of clicking keys.
"Okay, I'm in! Here's the sonar scope picture, Ron." The Kimunicator's screen became a map of Monks' Cay and the sea to the north of it, out to the underwater canyon. "That moving dot in the middle is Kim's sub. There's a readout here, too, let's see . . . Wow! Going twelve knots and diving fast. She's 600 feet down and two miles out already."
On the screen the dot crawled steadily out into the undersea canyon, deeper and farther from shore with each minute. Ron's voice shook as he spoke into the Kimunicator.
"Talk to us, Wade! How is she doing?"
"She's down 900 feet and about two and a half miles from shore . . . going down fast, she must have it in a power-dive . . . a thousand feet down, now . . . say, what's the operating depth on this submarine, Ron?"
Patricia leaned near the Kimunicator to answer Wade's question.
"The maximum operating depth is 2,000 feet, but the hull can stand the pressure down to a depth of 3,000 feet. We tested that with a duplicate hull."
"So, at 3,000 feet she'll get her feet wet, right?" Ron's attempt at humor got a chilling reply from Wimsey.
"Oh, no! When you have a hull breach at that depth the water comes in so rapidly that it instantly compresses the air to outside pressure. The sudden increase in air pressure inside the hull generates a supersonic heat wave that incinerates everything . . . " Her voice faded as Patricia realized what she was saying to Kim's family and friends.
Over the Kimunicator Wade continued his comments.
"Twelve hundred feet down, still moving out . . . Ouch!" The dot on the screen flared to intense brightness and faded away. "I . . . I think that's it, Ron . . . she blew," said Wade, sadly.
"Kimmie!" wailed Kim's mother. Rufus burst into tears, and buried his little face in Ron's shirt collar.
"Look, out at sea!" cried Patricia. She pointed to where a large, dim light was glowing, under a cloud of grayish water droplets that had lifted off the surface, while a wave of disturbance was sweeping toward the shore. As the light faded a hill of water bulged upwards, and then burst into a wall of spray that spread out and gradually dropped back into the restless ocean.
"Wade, I can't see the dot for the sub any more," Ron asked, "what's wrong?"
"Its gone, Ron," Wade's voice was shaking and he sounded tearful. "The sub didn't collapse, or break up, it must have just . . . vaporized. There - there's nothing left of it, nothing at all."
Tim and Jim were wide-eyed, in silent shock. James Possible held Ann in his arms as they both wept. Ron shook his head in stunned disbelief.
"No . . . no . . . Kim can't be gone . . . she just can't be . . . " Ron's voice trailed off as the little group stood in the control booth, staring through the window at the darkening sea.
End of Part Two
Historical Note: On February 7, 1943, in a night-time surface action, the U. S. Navy submarine Growler, Commander Howard W. Gilmore commanding, accidentally rammed the Japanese stores ship Hayasaki. Gunfire from the ship killed two members of the bridge watch and wounded several others, including Commander Gilmore. Gilmore ordered the rest of the watch to get below, but was unable to get down the conning tower hatch himself, and ordered the submarine to dive without waiting for him. His final command, shouted down the conning tower hatch to the ship's Executive Officer, was, "Take her down!" The Growler survived and returned to port, but the bodies of Gilmore and the two men killed on the bridge were never recovered. For this unselfish action to save his ship and his crew, Gilmore was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.