Ron was beginning to fidget. Kim figured they had been there at least an hour. Hyler, Adams, and Howell hadn't said a word, not even to each other. Whatever signal was jamming her Kimmunicator was still being broadcast so they were still cut off. Wade would be getting worried by now, but there was little she could do about it at the moment.
Ron let out a frustrated groan. "Ahh! What is taking so long?"
"Do you really want them to do a half-way job?"
"Well…no. But we haven't heard a gunshot or anything in like three hours."
"I don't think we've been here quite that long."
"Well it sure feels like that long."
Kim paused to be sure Ron was finished for the moment.
"Ron…this new found ability…"
"Don't worry, Kim. I'm not trying to change my role or anything."
"It's not that. I'm worried about you. We don't know exactly what you're capable of yet. I was just thinking you should be wary about these powers until you can get some time with Sensei."
"It's okay, Kim. I'm always careful. I haven't done anything like that thing earlier since graduation. But I was kind of pushed into a corner. And I have talked to Sensei. He's given me some exercises, things to help me discover what I can and can't do. But he also said that my powers being intermittent over the last couple of years was me learning how to control it. That it comes naturally, instinctively, and that I should just let go and allow my instincts to take over."
The sounds of heavy footfalls approaching echoed through the chamber and a few moments later, Agent Majors and roughly a dozen more men entered. He addressed both Kim and Ron, and their "guards".
"The situation is under control. All suspects have been neutralized."
Kim wondered what he meant by "neutralized".
"So we're free to go?" she asked.
"Not just yet, I'm afraid. We'll need to debrief you both before we can release you."
"But we haven't done anything," Ron protested. "We haven't even seen anything."
"Then it should be a short debrief. Let's go."
He led them back into the main lab. It looked pristine. There were marks on the walls that could have been made by bullets, but could also have been made by a long list of other things. And the way that Majors had said "neutralized", Kim was virtually certain that there must have been casualties of some kind. But there was absolutely zero evidence of any kind of a fight.
"So did you recover the engine?" Kim asked.
"We'll cover everything in the debrief," Majors replied without looking at her. He was clearly giving her the cold shoulder.
They were led through the lab, then up a large elevator and were deposited back in the junkyard where Majors turned to them.
"I'm going to have to ask you to surrender your communication devices until after the debrief."
"Is that really necessary?" Kim asked.
"Yes, it is."
Kim exchanged a look with Ron. He made a face that she knew to interpret as something being wrong. As he removed his Kimmunicator from his wrist and handed it to Majors, he swept his eyes over and back across the NSA group, pausing ever so slightly on Majors both times, then looked at Kim and made the face again.
The message was clear. Somehow he sensed that something was not being advertised and that the group, particularly Majors, could not be trusted. He was letting her know to be prepared to make a move if it became necessary.
She gave Ron a subtle nod as she handed her Kimmunicator to Majors.
"Cell phones as well, and pagers if you have one. You'll be frisked later. You would be well advised not to let us find anything then."
They also handed over their phones, and Ron his pager.
"Agent Majors, I can't help but feel we're being treated like suspects."
"That's because you are."
"We are?" Ron exclaimed.
"And why is that?"
Majors turned to Kim, his annoyance showing.
"Miss Possible, your reputation, and our firm belief that you are not a threat, has kept you from being placed in restraints. But in this situation we have procedures that must be followed, without exception, for our security. I have already extended to you every courtesy that I am allowed. Please understand and bear with us. We have a very serious responsibility to the security of this nation and we make exceptions for no one. We can't afford to."
Kim nodded. "We can understand that. Thank you for explaining."
They were ushered towards two white nondescript conversion vans and Majors guided Ron towards the one in the front while the rest of the men began to guide Kim towards the one in rear. Kim stopped.
"Agent Majors, I truly respect your duties and your responsibilities, but you must also understand that Ron and I simply cannot allow ourselves to be separated."
"You don't have a choice in the matter, Miss Possible."
"I'm afraid I do. I believe we've proved we can be formidable opponents, even outnumbered and out-armed. As a tactical man, I'm sure you won't argue that when your team is surrounded by a superior force, whether they're on your side or not, it is tactically unsound to allow yourselves to be separated, and we therefore will not allow it."
Majors grabbed Kim's arm and jerked her so that she was eye to eye with him.
"Possible, you are trying my patience. Now you and Stoppable will be separated and individually debriefed. We can do it now, debrief you on our way back to New York, drop you off at JFK or La Guardia or wherever, and let you be on your way. Or you can ride to New York together, where you will be detained at our offices there, separated, and debriefed in a much longer, much more intensive, and much less polite manner. Take your pick."
She angrily stared him down, mentally going over her options. One, they could fight. Assuming they managed to get away (a hell of an assumption), it would no doubt bring the whole agency down upon not only them, but their friends and family as well. Two, they could insist on remaining together now. That might raise suspicions in the eyes of the higher ups in New York and cause similar problems once they were detained there. Three, they could cooperate. Chances were that Majors and his men were sincere, and trying to make things easy on them while they did their jobs when they had no particular incentive to do so. If so, she and Ron were being excessively difficult. Kim sighed and broke eye contact.
"Very well, Agent Majors." She gave Ron a look that said to agree with her. "I apologize. You may expect our full cooperation throughout the rest of this situation."
"Thank you."
They began moving towards their respective vans, but Majors stopped after a few paces and turned.
"Kim. You're right; I wouldn't want to be split up if I were you. But given your options as they currently are, this is the soundest tactic available to you. I really am trying to be as easy on you as I can be."
"We appreciate that, Agent Majors."
He nodded, they climbed in the vans, and the two-vehicle convoy headed out.
"See? That wasn't so bad," Majors told Kim.
Twenty or twenty-five minutes after they left the junkyard, the vans stopped. They got out and Kim and Ron were switched. Climbing into the lead van, Kim noticed that the cab was sealed from the rear section. The rest of the team remained in the second van. As they passed each other, Ron gave Kim a nod and a small wink to let her know that everything had gone well.
As had things with her. Majors questioned her for less than twenty minutes, and determined that Kim and Ron were hiding nothing, had no knowledge of who Majors' team were or what they were doing, and knew next to nothing about the experimental engine that had been stolen.
"So, did you get it back?" Kim asked.
Majors allowed a small smile. "Yes."
He drew a deep breath, let it out, then opened a door on one of the several cabinets lining the walls of the van. He retrieved a half-empty pint of Crown Royal, unscrewed the cap, and offered it to Kim. She raised an eyebrow.
"I'm barely 19, Agent."
"So?"
"Is this some kind of entrapment?"
Majors laughed. "No, it's not."
"Well, thank you, but no thank you."
"Suit yourself." He tipped his head back and took a healthy slug from the bottle, then replaced the cap and returned the bottle to the cabinet.
"Helps settle the nerves." He leaned back and gave Kim a long appraising stare, which she easily returned.
"You know, I've been following your career for over a year now."
"Have you?"
"Ever since that Lil' Diablo thing. Good work on that."
"Well, that was as much Ron's doing as it was mine."
"Really? I've gotten the impression that he's somewhat of a klutz, and as much a hindrance as anything else."
She smiled. "Everyone thinks that. And at times, I know it can seem that way. But there's a unique dynamic between us that only we understand. I couldn't save the world without him."
Majors held her eyes for a long moment. "You love him very much, don't you?"
Kim flushed at the directness of the question, but answered it honestly. "More than I ever thought I could love someone."
"That's good. You need someone like that." His eyes got a faraway look. "You need it."
After a moment, he focused on Kim again.
"We're not that different, you and I, Kim. I was on the Youth Search and Rescue Team in high school. Police Academy, then Quantico. Wanted to save the world. And I do. Not in the glamorous way you do, but in my own unique and sometimes clandestine way."
"So who was she?"
This momentarily startled him. "You're very perceptive, aren't you?"
"I have to be. Like you."
He took a deep breath and decided he needed another allotment of liquid courage. After he fortified himself, he again fixed Kim with a probing look.
"We met at Quantico. Like you and Ron, we were different as night and day. On a mission though, we were exactly alike. Cool, calm, precise, emotionless. Both of us very smart. But the rest of the time, she was exuberant. Full of life. I was my usual dour self, except when I was around her. She helped me to be…." He just smiled and let the sentence trail off.
"What happened?"
"She was at the Pentagon on 9-11."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"That's when I transferred to NSA."
The speaker above his head crackled to life.
"We're approaching the Holland tunnel, sir."
He pressed a button beside the speaker. "How does it look?"
"Not too bad. But it rarely is, so late. We should be through with little or no delay."
"Thanks, Henry."
Kim let the silence continue for a moment.
"Because of what happened?"
"Pardon?"
"You transferred to NSA because of what happened?"
"Yes. I almost joined the Marines. I didn't want to fight terrorism, I wanted to kill terrorists. I was mad as hell at the Muslim world. I wanted them all to hurt just as much as I did. My anger nearly destroyed me."
"So what-"
An explosion rocked the van and Kim was tossed out of her seat. Her head collided with the wall and she saw stars. The van lurched to a halt and Majors had the door open before the vehicle stopped rocking on its suspension. He began cursing as soon as he was out and Kim stumbled out right behind him.
She stopped cold in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart felt like it stopped beating. Time itself seemed to halt.
The other van was being ravaged by fire. It was completely engulfed. All inside were almost certainly dead, and if not, would be in only moments.
Ron.
Time suddenly resumed, sped up.
"Ron!" Kim screamed, and charged the van. After less than ten feet, Majors grabbed her.
"No, Kim! It's too late!"
"No! No! Ron, no!"
Another explosion knocked them down and the first van was suddenly engulfed in flames as well. The heat was unbelievably intense.
"Incendiary!" One of Majors' men shouted.
Majors shouted something unintelligible back, then picked up Kim, who was kicking and screaming, still trying to get to the burning van. Majors threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She continued to struggle until the lead van's gas tank exploded and knocked them down again. This finally brought Kim to her senses as Majors dragged her to her feet.
"Come on, Possible! You with me?"
She nodded.
"Then help me get these people out of here!"
The tunnel was suddenly filled with noise she hadn't heard before. Blaring horns, people screaming, children crying. Knowing that thinking about Ron in the slightest right now would result in a likely fatal paralysis, Kim concentrated on what had been her life's focus for more than ten years now: Helping people.
The Possible TV was turned to the news, as were a large majority of American TV's at the moment, following the news of a terrorist bombing in the Holland Tunnel. It was the usual uninformative drivel as so-called "experts" continued to relentlessly re-phrase and repeat the same three or four facts they had, stretching a two-minute story into continuing coverage. Nevertheless people were glued to their screens, waiting, hoping for some new piece of information.
The station cut to their on scene reporter, standing behind the cordon blocking the Jersey side of the tunnel. Bright emergency lighting, running off of massive generators, brought mid-day light to the night. Emergency vehicles of every shape and size were parked haphazardly wherever there was space and dozens of people could be seen milling about.
"Sketchy reports are now coming in about the explosion here roughly an hour ago. Witnesses say that a large van exploded as it was driving through the tunnel. Moments later, a similar van which had apparently stopped to help the first, also exploded. Who or what were in those vans, nobody seems to know. But witnesses say the fires following the explosions were unusually intense, and believe that several other vehicles were consumed as a result. Several secondary explosions were reported, but we've been unable to confirm if they were other vehicles.
"There has been no information regarding how many people were in the vans, but otherwise although dozens of injuries have been reported, only two have been reported as having died, but those reports have not been confirmed."
The camera switched to footage that had been shot with a cell phone or home video camera inside the tunnel. Smoke rolled, people were running, falling over each other. Chaos ruled.
"This is the scene from inside the tunnel earlier this evening. As you can see, people were running, abandoning their cars, just trying to get away from the fires."
The camera panned across the tunnel, focusing on a slender redhead helping pull a short man with salt-and-pepper hair out of a small pick-up.
"James, look!" Anne said, pointing. "It's Kim!"
Sure enough, there was no mistaking her. The Drs. Possible exchanged worried looks, but by now they were used to hearing and seeing their daughter facing dangerous situations. All they could do was wait.
Kim sat on the rear bumper of the ambulance holding an oxygen mask over her face. Her lungs were raw, abraded. From time to time she hacked up a thick, black mucous and spat it on the ground, uncaring about the propriety of it. Her clothing and hair were soot stained, her shirt soaked with sweat. The exposed skin on her arms and face was badly blistered from the intense heat and an EMT was carefully wrapping her arms with gauze.
Her mind was blank, shut down. She felt neither discomfort from her wretchedly filthy state, nor pain from her badly burned arms and face. She stared, unseeing, at a point far beyond the sight of anyone else. Gradually, she became aware that someone was speaking to her. With Herculean effort, she managed to focus on him.
"Kim? Can you hear me?" asked Lee Majors.
She nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"You did good out there, Kim. You're to be commended."
"What…" she fumbled for the next word, speech returning to her slowly. "What happened?"
"My best guess is that we missed a few terrorists during our sweep. They must have rigged our vans with incendiary charges. Explosives mixed with thermite, or phosphorous, or something similar. That's why the heat was so intense. In this situation they were probably designed to eliminate any trace of forensic evidence. There's nothing left of the vans but…" he shrugged, "Ash and slag. The tunnel will be shut down for days while they inspect it. Weeks if they find damage to the concrete and rebar, which they probably will. We were lucky though. Casualties were light. It could have been a lot worse."
She finally made eye contact with him.
"No," she said in an unsteady voice. "No…" She took a deep, shaky breath, let it out. "No, casualties were total."
"I'm sorry, Kim," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. She shoved it away. She was still partially in shock, with no capacity for grief right now. But plenty of room for anger.
"Don't touch me! This is your fault!"
"Kim, I-"
"No!" She screamed, standing suddenly and startling the EMT. "He shouldn't have been in there! You knew who we were! You said so! You should've just left us alone!"
"Kim, I'm sorry. I had no choice."
"Liar!" She attacked him. "Liar!" He held his ground, allowing her to pound his arms and chest.
"You're lying about everything! He shouldn't have been in there! It's your fault he's dead! Yours!"
Two of Majors' men grabbed her from behind and she focused on them, struggling to escape their grasp.
"Let me go! Let go you assholes! You sons of bitches! Let go! Let go! It's your fault he's dead!"
Those two words finally hit home and her knees buckled as grief consumed her as suddenly and ferociously as fire had the vans and she fell to the ground, wailing.
"He's dead! Oh, God, he's dead! God help me!" Her voice fell to just above a whisper. " Help me."
She screamed at the pain, a long, lonesome scream that devolved into sobs. The EMT walked up and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Having no one else, she clung to him and wept uncontrollably. Majors wisely let her be.
Dr. James Possible looked up as the telephone began ringing. Despite what was happening on the TV, they were in fairly good spirits, Kim's adventures had made them resilient. But for some reason he couldn't define, the ringing sounded cold, ominous. He thought it was just his imagination, but when he looked up his wife was regarding the ringing phone with the same look of dread. Anne got up and lifted the receiver.
"Hello?"
He waited apprehensively and breathed a sigh of relief when her face lit up.
"Kim!"
But almost immediately it fell again.
"Kim, what's wrong?"
Again he watched and waited. For several minutes her face was merely a mask of shock and worry. Then suddenly her eyes widened in fear and then closed as her face became lined with anguish. She covered her mouth with her free hand and her shoulders fell under the sudden weight of a heavy emotional burden. She didn't open her eyes when she said, "Oh, Kim. No."
Opening her eyes, she locked gazes with her husband, and though she managed to keep it from her voice, tears flowed.
"Oh, sweetie, I know you did. We all did."
Another tear filled silence and James knew that something awful had occurred.
"Come home, Kimmie. We're waiting for you…I love you too, sweetheart. So does your Dad…We'll see you soon."
She hung up and looked at the floor, momentarily unable to speak.
"Anne?"
After another moment, she looked up again; glad the twins were away. Glad for the time to adjust before having to tell them as well.
"It's Ron. He…he's gone." The pent up sobs finally broke loose. "Killed in the tunnel."
She fled into her husband's arms, attempting to take solace there. They held each other, attempting to console each other for an inconsolable loss.
Majors placed Kim on a government Learjet at JFK and had her flown back to Middleton. She hadn't spoke a word since talking to her mother by phone, could not speak when they met her at Middleton airport, could only cry in their arms. She was denied even the comfort of home, as it would be some time yet before their house was rebuilt. But before she could even take solace in her temporary home, she was first required to stop at Ron's parents' house and break the news to them. Watching the van burn was the only thing in her life she had done that was harder than that.
She discovered that there was no relief to be found in her hometown, in fact the reverse was true. For days, she was forced to constantly tell people who hadn't yet heard the news, tell the story again to people who had; each time peeling off the scab that had just started to form.
A week later, Majors appeared at her door with an urn.
"Understand, Kim," he told her, "This is probably just random ash. There was literally nothing left, nothing to even identify which part of the van was which. We did find this though."
He held out a small device just larger than a grain of wild rice. Kim recognized it immediately despite its melted appearance. She had a similar subcutaneous transponder implanted in her arm. Wade had bragged they were completely indestructible. Apparently he hadn't been just bragging.
"Most of the ash here is from the area where we found that. That's the best we can give you. I'm sorry."
After that, Kim locked herself in her room. For weeks, she went nowhere, spoke to no one. Ate little while the grief ate away at her. She wasted away to a skeletal 85 pounds. Faced with no other choice, her parents had her committed. She went without comment, without resistance, her face a blank page. The vitality completely drained from her. For all intents and purposes, Kim Possible, like her lifelong friend, partner, and lover, was dead.
