Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all associated characters portrayed and/or implied inside this fanfict belong solely unto Walt Disney Productions.
Crying Amidst The Chaos
"Officers down. I repeat, officers down," a distress call comes over local police bands. "All units in or near Ridgehaven subdivision, please respond immediately. We're..."
Automatic gunfire drowns out the rest. Various caliber rounds ping off something metallic close by as rippling explosions tear through his fellow officers and subdivision.
"Unit #7, come back," Boyd immediately recognizes his distressed colleague's name. They'd met earlier this week, when he arrived for his first day of work at Middleton PD.
Unit #7 doesn't respond.
"Frank, are you there?" Boyd demands with increasing worry.
"Boyd?" Childers screams over mass explosions and repetitive gunfire. Every syllable dripping with petrifying fear.
"Yea, Frank, it's me," Boyd tries to comfort his distressed friend.
"Thank God," Childers sighs with relief. He prayed Boyd could zero on his location and maybe send in back up, something they badly needed right now.
Instead, his new coworker lets his curiosity overrule common sense asking, "What's happening there? What kind of trouble are you in?"
Childers humors his colleague explaining, "Dispatch received several resident complaints reporting automatic gunshots and explosions inside and near Ridgehaven subdivison. My partner and I responded in Unit #7, backed up by Halsey, Dominguez, Winslow, Matthers, Gilliam, and Berkley in Units #8, 11, and 13.
Dex and I approached from Mercer Street, Units #8 and 11 from Mulberry Road, and Unit #13 on Lincoln Blvd. We crossed the 3rd block of Mercer and Melrose nearly running into a Humvee. Armed soldiers swarmed our squad car with automatic weapons drawn.
Their C.O. handed us a signed mandate, signed by a Major General Nathaniel Holland of the United States Army, on special assignment with the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases in Fort Detrick, Maryland, forbidding local police from entering the Ridgehaven Subdivision.
We both know how cantankerous Dex can get when someone deny his seniority without a damn good reason. Well, long story, short, he balled up this order and tossed it back into the commander's face. He demanded, what gives the military the right to take over a civilian neighborhood? This same C.O. then shoved this slip of paper back into our faces.
He turned back towards his men ordering, 'Apprehend Kim Possible and all known associates by any means necessary. Warn the civilians, if any resist, treat them as you would her'. He threw the order into our laps and walked away, leaving little doubt, he'd even kill local police officers if we defy his orders.
It seems, she wanted for murdering multiple high-priority DOD personnel and stealing classified government INTEL. This C.O. alleges they have reliable intel that she intends on selling this information to foreign powers over the black market".
Dr. Director stood nearby. She heard both sides of this cryptic conversation. She didn't open her mouth to challenge the charges against her 'golden girl'. Boyd deduces, she wished to stay anonymous, not just with Childers but whoever else may be eavesdropping.
He'd served as a cop long enough. He ascertains the leading questions topping this crass woman's list. He acts as her unofficial mouthpiece asking the burning question that she couldn't ask without exposing her presence, "Did you learn anything specific?"
"Yes, Sir," Childers shares what she desired to know. "The Amity PD chopper backing us up confirms something very suspicious".
Boyd eyes Dr. Director.
She only nods in return, letting him know, he was on the right trail. Boyd asks the crass woman's next burning question, "And what would that be, Lieutenant?"
"The military blew up two houses already but are incurring heavier losses while laying siege unto the last home," Childers hears more rippling explosions, feeling the ground shake beneath his feet.
His computer beeps. Three addresses come across Boyd's computer. Dr. Director nods her head. He perceives what she wanted to know, "Are the addresses 3324 Brighton Avenue, 4475 Elmhurst Drive, and 2657 Longfellow Lane?"
"Exactly," his colleague stutters in shock. "How'd you know?"
"First, Old Friend, tell me something," he probes what his best friend learnt. "At which of these three addresses are these soldier boys incurring the heaviest losses?"
Lieut. Childers didn't understand why this was important. He, nevertheless, trusted his senior officer had a reason. Childers responds without any hesitation, "2657 Longfellow Lane".
Dr. Director points towards a picture on her clipboard.
Boyd recognized the infamous redhead's picture. How could he ever forget? She subdued him without breaking a sweat. "It figures," he deduces, 2657 Longfellow Lane was her address.
Childers didn't understand how. His superior knew these families. He shares his most disturbing intel yet, "Before being turned back, our pilot noted 3324 Brighton Avenue and 4475 Elmhurst Drive already engulfed in flames. He also counted nearly 30 soldiers lying dead roundabout 2657 Longfellow Lane. Leo even intercepted these soldier boys' distress call, requesting immediate tactical air support. How can one woman dish such devastation and standoff such heavily armed troops?"
"She's a super genius with an ax to grind, Lieutenant," Boyd answers his colleague without giving away anything specific and getting himself in trouble with Global Justice.
"I guess..." Automatic gunshots cut their inquest short. "Oh, hell, they triangulated my position," the lieutenant drops his radio running for dear life. Massive explosions emanate all around him. His radio goes dead, mere seconds later, leaving his colleagues to wonder about his fate.
"What now, Director?"
"I'll make some calls. Maybe I can get the military withdrawn from this suburban neighborhood? I hope you get your people back safely".
"Same to you, Director. I never knew your agent was so dangerous?'
"Dangerous?" Dr. Director downplays her own shock. "She's only a little miffed here".
"I don't even want to know," he walks away without another question.
Simple Subterfuge
Will hands her the general's number.
Dr. Director hastily dials his number.
His recognized 'Global Justice' in the Caller-ID answering, "Major General Holland here".
"Major General, Dr. Director at Global Justice," she gets straight to business, not time to coddle a bureaucrat with a bruised ego.
"What can I do for you, Director?"
"You can withdraw your troops, Major General," she makes her request known. "That'd be a good start".
"Troops? What troops?" Major General Holland didn't have a clue what she meant.
"Don't placate me, General," Dr. Director thunders, reminding him, she wasn't a rookie. He couldn't dismiss her so easily. Try and he'd suffer the consequences. He'd best give her some straight answers, which can help end this nightmare promptly. "People are dying here. Aren't Golden Shade and Crimson Jackals under your authority?"
Holland pauses. He didn't dare answer right away. He runs her name across his computer checking her security clearance. "Yes, yes, they are," he confirms that much. "President Busch assigned them to secure DOD's investment here. Director, I approximate I have 75 people dead and a hundred or more still missing, all presumed dead at this point. Why are you even bothering me?"
If true, Dr. Director deduces, someone under Holland's command realized their commander's true predicament. He had so many people missing. He couldn't possibly account for all their location right now. Hence, they went off reservation issuing orders in their boss' name.
"Major General, I think I can possibly help you locate at least some of your people".
"You can?" He had his doubt. Yet, he knew, he couldn't pass up a potential source. Maybe she knew who was behind this unprovoked attack.
"Yes, I think I can," she reassures the doubtful bureaucrat.
"How?" That was all Holland wanted to know. He wondered but would never directly ask. Was Global Justice behind this attack? Kim Possible was theirs.
"I think some of your people went AWOL or someone under you superseded his/her own authority and assigned your Golden Shade units an unsanctioned op, which they believe you assigned, Major General," she proposes the most unsettling turn of events he could imagine.
"How do you even know this?" Holland pounds his desk. An unknown enemy attacks his base. Now, his own people betray American security by using their security clearance to help these terrorists commit this vile act on home soil.
He had his doubts. She could understand why. She eradicates any residual doubts advising him, "Access your nearest satellite and zero on these coordinates".
His computer beeps and SAT-Nav bring up the Ridgehaven subdivision. He surveils the dead and injured, not recognizing any so far. He moves closer unto the home in question surveilling those laying siege. His computer displays the home-owner as James and Anne Possible.
Holland curses the irony. He didn't believe in coincidences. So far, every calamity revolved around a single name, Kim Possible. Her last name wasn't that common. An enemy attacks his base, murders his people, assumes their identities, arranges an patient's escape/release, then attacks her parents.
He couldn't dismiss the possible connection, "Director, does my patient, Kim Possible, live here?"
"Yes. Yes, she does," Dr. Director nods. "That home belongs unto her parents, James and Anne Possible, General".
Holland worries what terrorist activities these terrorists might be using his units to commit. How could their action undermine national security? He knew there'd be a congressional hearing over this fiasco. Would the house shut down his department? Or simply revoke his command?
"Director, I don't know what's going on there. Besides maybe six, those aren't my troops. I don't care whose orders they claim they're acting under".
"I don't understand," Will Du buts into their conversation. "I spoke with you earlier..."
"Agent, I..."
"Commander…"
General Holland gasps in shock mixed with aggravation. Few people dared interrupt, let alone correct, him around his own men. And yet, this cocky agent usurps his authority without any consideration. He couldn't excuse this rookie's disrespect. His own men would lose respect for his command.
He also desired to maintain a positive inter-agency relationship. Hence, he ignores the agent and makes an indirect appeal unto his immediate superior stammering, "What…?"
"It's commander," Will speaks up before Dr. Director could appease Holland's people. "My rank," he adds.
"Whatever!" Holland loses patience with this cocky agent, "I don't know who you think you spoke with, Son," he pulls rank, signaling, if you want to act like a kid, I'll treat you like one. "I can assure you it wasn't me you spoke with".
"Sir, I have a tech..."
"Commander," Kingsley, G.J.'s acoustics analyst, diffuses this situation, "he's right".
"What are you talking about, Kingsley?"
"I sampled the major general's voice print against the man Kirby and you spoke with earlier. My acoustic analysis detected slight discrepancies in pitch, tone, and range".
"Meaning?" Will Du shouts.
"Whoever you spoke with earlier wasn't him, Commander".
"What the hell's going on here?" Will Du tosses his hands up exclaiming irefully. "A lab accident contaminates a fellow agent. With what? We still don't have a clue. The WHO and CDC quarantine this same agent and her partner. You discharge the partner but hold onto her.
The next thing I hear, she's escaped, only she didn't really escape. Unauthorized intruders broke into one of this country's most secure medical facilities, murders numerous personal, but don't steal any top-secret intel or dangerous chemicals to possibly sell on the black market.
Instead, at least two murderers stay behind and impersonate a doctor and nurse, then arrange Kim Possible's release, but stages her release as an escape, making sure you have enough evidence to link her with your people's murders.
Let's forget these people broke into one of DOD's most security medical facilities without tripping a single countermeasure, knew all your personnel's identities, ranks, responsibilities, even their individual access codes, as well as your internal security protocols and procedures.
Most spies would have vacated the premises upon achieving their core objective, staging Possible's release, while making you believe she murdered your people amidst escaping. And yet, at least one spy stayed behind, impersonated you, Major General. And no one on your staff even noticed the difference.
This point man finally only vanishes after, while still impersonating you, ordering your Golden Shade units to attack Kim Possible's neighborhood, terminating her family and friends, anyone connected with Team Possible.
Your men are carrying out an unsanctioned op on home soil, thinking they are acting under your direct orders. Again, this spy doesn't flee. He defies self-preservation and joins your teams in attacking a civilian neighborhood. Am I missing something here?"
Will plops down in a nearby chair exhaling sharply, clearly expressing his frustrations.
Silver Lining
"I share your confusion and outrage, Commander," Major General Holland conciliates their present crisis. "I can assure you. We never spoke. I must admit, my imposture wasn't entirely wrong. I initially believed your agent murdered my people".
Dr. Director sighs with relief. At least he'd come to his senses. He didn't blame Kimberly anymore. She simply didn't' know, "What changed your mind, Major General?"
"She exposed her puppeteers' trickery by doing what they'd least expect in a million years, Director," he admired this young woman's ingenuity.
"I can relate," Dr. Director laughs aloud. She always did what she least expects and in ways that riled her superiors. "Kimberly may take an assignment, but she never sticks with your plans. She always does things in her own way, even to suicide missions. I believe that unpredictability is what's kept her alive so long in this business," Dr. Director relates. "What'd she do by the way?"
"Whoever arranged her release gave your agent my murdered nurse's Tablet-PC. My techs still can't explain how. Your agent bypassed our lockout protocols and captured video footage from a seemingly disabled tablet camera, without alerting us or those attacking our facility. She, then, compiled these videos into one feed and emailed me. An email, I'm certain, she knew I'd never receive".
"Is that why these idiots are attacking her neighborhood, because Possible taunted them?" Will bolts up socking the nearest wall, feeling no pain.
"Oh, she did more than taunt them, Commander," Holland explains her strategy. "They, too, thought she was merely taunting them. I believe, that's partially why they attacked her neighborhood. In reality, they did exactly what she needed most. She goaded them into acting hastily and exposing themselves. Other words, I'd terminated her with extreme prejudice, never considering her innocence".
"What else did she do, Major General?"
"Whoever hacked our security system also rewrote part of our internal security protocols without ever raising any red flags. Your agent bypassed their countersecurity changes by fabricating an email from my immediate superior, Lieutenant General Jordan Mallinson. I guess, they didn't want 'big-wigs' probing this incident right away. Hence, they let her email go through. I double clicked this link, like I'd done a thousand times before, half-expecting new orders.
Instead, two videos popped up on my computer. We recovered a video off our auxiliary digital repository. I now realize, it'd been planted there. It implicated your agent with brutally killing my people. Her first video matched this one precisely. The video showed her massacring my people and simply walking outside my facility checkpoints without a care in this world. That video left too many questions unanswered. Her second video showed an imposture nurse..."
"Her name's Gama Rose".
"And she wasn't alone". Holland shares, "She escorted your agent into Dr. Tomlin's office, who was already dead by this point. His imposture then signs her release papers even arranged her transportation back home. His forged document cleared our best scanners. She had no reason to suspect deception. And yet, she not only kept his documentation, but fingerprinted where he'd touched, and emailed me a photo. We identified him, Samir Macsen, a.k.a. Dream Streak, a freelance Welsh-Arabic assassin".
"Director," Kirby interrupts, "the militants are leaving Possible's neighborhood".
"Where are they headed?"
"Possible must've heard about them harming neighbors. She came back into the open," a sleek black armor-plated Rhino SUV comes into focus barreling down a scenic route.
"Where's she headed, Kirby?"
"Her vehicle's barreling down US-550 South at 240 mph. I'd say, she's headed into the mountains outside Middleton's tri-county area. And she isn't alone, Commander".
"What's she up against, Kirby?"
"Two equally armored SUVs, two troop transports loaded to bear, and three F-16 Fighting Eagles, each armed with a 20-mm Vulcan 6-barrel Gatling cannon with 511 rounds, LAU-61 rocket pods (Hydra-70 rockets), and carrying 6 Maverick missiles".
"Scramble fighter jets from Buckley and Peterson".
"Already have, Director," Kirby shows initiative. "I doubt they'll reach her in time, though".
"Why?"
"They're still 30-minutes away at max thrust. And that convoy will catch up with her in less than 15, Director".
"Do you think she stands a chance?" Will envied but respected the redhead. He didn't wish her bodily harm.
"She once proposed her team build a Team Possible base beep in Middleton Mountain. Middleton Mayor Benjamin McAvoy knew that'd be good for commerce. Maintaining the land costed the city over $300,000 per year. Wade proposed the mayor donate the land for tax exemption purposes. The Colorado's Bureau of Land Management and city council agreed to give Team Possible a tax-free option on the land for the next 10-years. And that was last year".
"Do you think she built this secret base?" Will poses with hope.
Dr. Director considers what'd happened lately. Kimberly survived many missions her best analysts classified as suicide missions. She had to honest, "I didn't think she'd survive initial exposure, possessed even deadlier battle armor, could defeat Level Alpha-4 Golden Shade assassins, or own an armored Rhino. Who knows what she did?" She rubs her chain in admiration.
"She's apparently taken your lessons to heart, Director". Holland lightens the mood.
"What lessons are those, General?" Dr. Director wasn't sure whether she was being complemented or insulted. Hence, she asks the inevitable.
"Don't trust anymore, and always have an ace no one knows about, just in case," he chortles lightly.
Dr. Director chortles, too, quipping, "Even you must admit. Secrecy comes in handy in this business".
"Agreed," he shared her sentiment, promising. "I'll monitor your agent's progress from here. Call me, if there's anything else I can do for Global Justice".
Major General Holland disconnects his end.
"Kirby, whatever you do, lock onto and don't lose that SUV. We do, and Possible will rabbit. I doubt we'd find her until she's ready to resurface again. I'm on my way down there," Dr. Director kills her CNC connection heading his way.
Rumble Down Low
"Sheva, contact Global Justice Command".
"Command code authorization required," the AI spits back.
Kim knew then. Dr. Director received her communique through Boyd and Holland. And she'd be close by monitoring on her call. "Command code authorization: Sierra-Bravo-Chair, Possible 774-332, Knight Hawk calling Citadel Prime".
Computers beep on the other end. "Command code authorization accepted, Junior Agent Kimberly Ann Possible. Connecting you directly into CNC mainframe".
"Ma'am, it's Possible," Kirby stops his boss cold.
Dr. Director makes her way back towards the large overhead screen ordering, "Put her through".
"Yes, Ma'am," Kirby puts her through.
Kim Possible appears on the overhead screen. "Agent Possible, what the hell's going on?" Betty thunders irately, irritated her young protégé chose to leave her in the dark about so much.
"I've gotten myself in a little trouble, Director".
"That's an understatement," Will condescends, jealous over her level of access. He'd worked his whole life and barely access little more that she already does.
"That's enough, Commander," Dr. Director reproves him.
"Sorry, Director," he respected the redhead's goodwill towards helping other. He didn't value her as G.J. material. She spurred rules and regulations, no different than during her vigilante days. Now she works for them but still does thing her own way.
Did their bosses reprimand or fire her, like they would any other agent? No, they'd never treat their 'Poster Girl' so disreputably. Instead, they slap her back, give her accommodations, increase her security clearance, and praise her 'vigilante resourcefulness'. Will berated mentally but dares not say aloud.
"I don't have time for a full debriefing, Director. I'll hit the highlights. You know Drakken poised me. With what? I still don't know. Daisy Mae and Dr. Tomlin finally identified the poison, synthesized then administer the cure. That Overgrown Smurf or his new muscle…"
Will didn't like this latest development berating, "What new muscle? And where was Shego?"
"I didn't see her, Commander," Kim responds.
"What do you know?"
"I know I'm gonna identify Drakken's new muscle. I have a score to settle with them both".
Will curses under his breath. She was an amateur. And it showed more every day. "What score is that, Possible?" He refused to acknowledge her as an agent.
"Whoever he/she is, Commander? That SOB murdered Dr. Tomlin and his nurse over curing me. Gama Rose was simply a hired gun..."
"Wait," Will couldn't believe his ears. He'd only learnt about these imposture a couple of hours ago. And yet, she knew all along. Impossible. "You knew they were phonies and still left that facility?"
"Of course, I did, Commander," Kim shrugs, like 'What else did you expect me to do? Stay?'
"Why?" He couldn't imagine why she left.
"These murderers would've murdered more people if I'd stayed, Commander," she justifies leaving the facility without proper clearance.
He couldn't find fault with her logic. Hence, he argues against her departure debating, "How did you know this miracle cure worked?"
"I didn't," she shrugs dismissively.
Will lets her snide remark slide more concerned with, "How, then, could you possibly identify these fake medical personnel? And, if you didn't know if you were cured, how did you know you wouldn't start an epidemic upon leaving the medical facility?" Those were his two top ranking questions. Answer those and he could guess the rest.
"Inductive reasoning, Commander," she preens into the monitor. "Gama Rose came straight into the isolation ward without wearing an environmental suit. Also, there weren't any guards waiting outside when we exited the iso-ward.
She bypassed the decontamination showers and didn't call ahead to verify the paperwork authorizing my release, before my transfer. I don't pretend I'm a doctor, but my mom is. Even I realize that is against containment protocols. And besides, these people didn't heed any BSL procedures.
That immediately confirmed three things. First, Gama Rose already knew what Drakken infected me with. She realized I wasn't contagious. That's why she haphazardly walked into the contamination ward without wearing an environmentally sealed suit. What did she have to really fear? I wasn't contagious.
Second, Drakken initially broke into the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases in Fort Detrick, Maryland to steal Emmeo-7 mutagen, a vital ingredient in creating syntho-drones. He stole multiple vials.
Dr. Tomlin theorized, Drakken panicked outright throwing everything in his arms, but a single vial of Emmeo-7-Mutagen. Everything else shattered against me, mixing with the mutagen. Dr. Tomlin, then, synthesized a neutralizing agent to stabilize my blood mutations.
If his theory was true, and seeing that I'm cured, I see no reason to doubt his doubt, that could only mean, Drakken stole those files not to keep but draw me deeper into his trap. That way, his new partner and he could poison me avoiding suspicion and without getting their own hands dirty.
Drakken found another positive point about this strategy. Poisoning me this way decreases the chances Shego would ever learn how he intentionally gambled with their lives, just so he could get even with Team Possible.
I can't prove this part. But, I have a hunch. That's why Drakken has given Shego more vacation time than usual and not complained about it. I suspect whatever Gama Rose and he worked up, they feared it might offend Shego's sensibilities. She might even try to derail their plans. And they weren't taking any chances".
"Possible, that's a giant leap," Will didn't like so much supposition. He stuck with hard, cold facts. That's how he preferred to conduct his investigations, while avoiding so much guessing games.
"Not a leap, Commander, it's simply a balance between inductive and deductive reasoning".
"Balderdash!" He berates these brainiacs' inability to admit they don't know something. They're so self-conscious and unsure of their own skills. These bookworms must dress their guesses in science. He forces her to admit her own shortcomings berating, "That's just an intellectual way of saying without outright saying, 'I'm guessing'".
"Whatever," she dismisses him.
"Director, tell me Global Justice knows more," Kim seeks answers she didn't have at this point.
"We know. Gama Rose murdered and impersonated your nurse, while her male partner, Samir Macsen, a.k.a. Dream Streak, a freelance Welsh-Arabic assassin, impersonated Dr. Tomlin purposely to arrange your release and transportation back home".
"Who hired them?"
"We don't..." Will goes to lie.
"We initially suspected Drakken," Dr. Director cuts her eyes sharply.
"Even you don't believe that, Director," Kim rejects Drakken master-minding something this intricate. "Drakken may be many things. A mastermind isn't one. He's sided with someone, either a person, team, or organization, who's letting him take credit and the blame for its work".
"You raise an interesting point," Dr. Director couldn't deny her protégée's logic. "This plan is intricate and has too many moving variables. Drakken could've never envisioned something so ingenious, let along keep everything straight".
"Let me guess, you need me to uncover who can, don't you, Director?"
"Yes," her boss nods towards the overhead monitor with a firm smirk.
"Kim, we have company, 6-minutes and closing fast".
"Thanks, Sheva, prepare to launch Valkyrie warheads".
"Initiating preparation protocols".
"Possible, where'd you acquire warheads? And what are..."
The line goes dead without warning.
Will Du turns, "Director...?"
"Only time will tell, Commander," she anticipates his impending questions. 'Do you think she really acquired such powerful warheads? If so, what other weapons did she arm her base with? And how'd she plan on using such firepower?' Dr. Director didn't have the patience for a lengthy 'regulations' debate. She had enough on her mind, as is.
Hell Rains
Her pursuers' ground vehicles catch up with her. Two SUVs and two transports skid off a side street onto the main road. All four vehicles pick up speed matching hers. Soldiers lean outside the leading SUV hammering her armor plating with various caliber ammo.
She'd been so distracted monitoring those warplanes. She didn't notice ground troops sneak into her rearview. "Activate auto-defenses, Sheva".
"Auto-defenses online".
She couldn't outrun them. Sheva was at max speed now. Their shields and armor could only last so long, especially under this firepower. And what's worse, reinforcements were headed their way. "How long til those planes are within firing range, Sheva?"
"1-minute and 20-seconds, Kim".
"How long between detonation and blackout?"
"It'll take 10-seconds to launch, 20-seconds to reach optimal height, 10-seconds more for dispersing the plasma modules, and 20 seconds later until we totally blackout 10-square miles".
"Close enough," Kim couldn't cut it any closer. "Sheva, launch modified Valkyrie Missiles, but don't detonate until my mark". She storms past Mile Marker #17 near Middleton Mountains. Two silos open beneath the rocky soil. Two spear-shaped warhead thunder into the sky. A fiery miasma sweeps over the road behind takeoff.
Her pursuers' lead driver slams on brakes, cuts his wheel sharply, and slides off the road just barely avoiding being barbecued alive. The 2nd transport's driver wasn't quite so alert. He slams on brakes, more on instant than planning. His forward momentum carries him screaming in mortal terror into the fiery inferno. Select soldiers in the back jump. Choosing they'd rather die that way than boiled alive. The majority were so petrified. They could barely cover their eyes and join the companions screaming, only to have their voices forever silenced by unforgiving flames.
The troop transport explodes amplifying the inferno's yield. The last driver slams on brakes, cuts his wheel sharply, and skids off the road. His soldiers get slung over the left side. The abrupt shift in weight tips the vehicle just enough. The driver struggles to regain control, but couldn't gain enough traction. His vehicle only continues to skid. The driver loses control flipping his vehicle several times.
Soldiers get catapulted through the back tarp, scattered along the roadside. The vehicle finally comes to rest upright again, amazingly sitting upon its 10-wheels. The structure sport massive dents and more than a few scratches, but still roadworthy. Uninjured soldiers climb inside the back, leaving injured companions behind, where they lay.
They'd already lost precious seconds. Their target was getting farther ahead. The lead driver pulls onto the main road swerving around the smoldering transport blocking their way. Their transport fall behind the 2nd SUV.
Above. The missiles spiral higher into the skies above. Each disperses six micro modules leaking ionized plasmatic radiation into the upper atmosphere. Every module hovers, anchored at strategic locations along her plasmatic web.
Below. "Enemy vehicle acquired," Colonel Bradford alerts air support. "She isn't driving the purple coupe. I repeat, she isn't driving the purple coupe".
"What's she driving?"
"A black Rhino SUV".
"Target acquired," Halo confirms target. "Going in".
"Kim, the planes have breached our web and locking on". Sheva relays her mark.
"Fire, Sheva," Kim gives her most dreaded order since starting Team Possible.
Another silo opens behind them. A lone missile thunder into the sky. This one armed with an EM warhead. The EM bomb reaches a designated height detonating. The resulting explosion ignites the volatile ionization radiation cloud. A fiery plasmatic tidal wave sweeps in every direction, quickly overtake every planes, and triggering theirs warhead before any could fire.
Meanwhile below, an equally destructive EM field spread over a 10-mile radius. Shielded, the SUVs did little more than sputter but continued their pursuit. Their transport wasn't quite so lucky. The EM pulse fries its electrical and ignition systems. The vehicle's engine goes dead drifting to a complete stop alongside US-550 South, while ashes like black snow drifts below.
"What the hell was that?" Will Du poses with great concern. He'd never seen a more destructive weapon, redefining the WMD classification. And it was in a civilian's hands.
"Oh, shit," G.J.'s Weapons Specialist declares with heightened concern.
Will turns towards his boss. Dr. Director shrugs. He takes his cue, turns towards their resident weapons specialist demanding, "Major Carlyle, do know what that weapon was?"
"Yes and no, Sir," Carlyle didn't mean to sound so ambiguous. He didn't know a better way to explain this weapon unto someone without a technical background. He wished he'd just kept his mouth shut.
"Don't string me along, Mister," he auspicates direct responses.
"I worked on a similar weapon, before budget cuts forced DOD to cut back research. My job was deemed nonessential for this weapon's development," Carlyle clarifies the limits of his own knowledge. "It was barely in the planning phase when I left. I never imagined a functional prototype had ever been built just yet, and especially not a civilian".
Will wasn't getting anywhere. Major Carlyle was only babbling and not making any sense. He was so shock by seeing this weapon functional, which only worried her more. "What does it do, Major?" Dr. Director cuts her eyes taking charge over this situation.
"We code named it, the Dragonslayer, Director," he identifies the version of this weapon he'd worked on back at DOD. "In theory, it ionizes the very atmosphere around any given area turning the very air we breathe into a highly conductive explosive.
Initial detonation will ignite these ionized air vapors turning them into a plasmatic solar wave. The resulting percussions spews this wave rippling in every direction. Once set into motion, nothing can stop this wave. It'll eat through any known metal on Earth, as well as liquifying a grown man, head to toe, within seconds, not minutes, Director".
Dr. Director realizes the severity of this security breach. No civilian should possess such a powerful weapon, not even Team Possible. "Get me through that interference, now!" She orders.
"Director, I mean no disrespect. You can order me from now until doomsday, even with a gun to my head. I still couldn't you through the residual ionized distortion field, left behind in the wake of this plasmatic wave. She's blacked out nearly 10-square miles. It will take nearly 8-hours for the ionization to clear enough. Until then, Director, we wait. It's that simple".
Dr. Director turns and storms outside CNC. Pissed, he'd dare speak unto her so candidly, but realized, it was also part of his job description. What pissed her off worse, she could argue his point and prove him wrong.
Ground Zero
Kim starts to pick up speed again. Eyes glued ahead and fingers clasped tightly around her steering wheel. One truth permeated her thoughts. Clearing this distortion field was her only hope for survival. Her chances looked grim, and getting grimmer by the moment.
Two black SUVs round the bend matching her speed. Soldiers lean outside the passenger and back windows hammering her armor plating again.
"Shields".
"I can't Kimberly," Sheva alerts her owner. "Shields are offline, and auto-regeneration modules fried. We don't have time to reboot. It'd leave us too vulnerable".
Various caliber rounds meanwhile continue to whittle away their remaining armor plating as cracks in the back windshield grew deeper and wider with each hit.
"Kimberly, we've taken extensive damage. By my calculations, we won't last 5-minutes longer".
She had one shot. It'd give her a 10-second speed boost. Maybe that'd be long enough to get away. If not, she was dead. Even worse, it'd toast her motor and fry all secondary computer systems. She didn't see an alternative, though.
"How far til we clear this distortion field?"
"Half mile, Kimberly".
"Sheva, initiate fusion drive".
"Kimberly, that will..."
"I know. We have no alternative," she activates her clone-double. Knowing, this tactic would fry Sheva primary and remaining functional secondary systems. "I need you to lead them a little farther ahead, say...a quarter mile, then tap into their coms and patch it through my helmet".
"Should I trigger my fail safe also, Kimberly?"
"Yes," she relays further instructions. "Set your internal chronometer for 3-minutes, then transfer your core matrix into my motorcycle, understand?"
Her pursuers don't let up. Guns blaze with increasing intensity. Various caliber rounds penetrate her armor plating lodging in the plating between her seats. She knew it was now or never yelling, "Now!"
Sheva activates fusion drive. The SUV jerks ahead rounding the next bend. Her enemies lose sight of them for precious few seconds. Kim opens and dives out the driver's side door and scrambles off-road crouching behind the nearest rock, hiding.
Sheva auto-closes the driver's door but starts slowing. Key systems fused and motor sputtering. Her enemies storm past her position, rounds the bend, and notices her vehicle spewing black smoke. Both SUVs pulls up alongside her vehicle. Soldiers lean outside every window opening a full-frontal assault. More rounds masticate Sheva's armor plating. Slowed, but the vehicle still wasn't stopping. Seeing the extent of her damage invigorated them to step up their assault. Like starving wolves, they could already smell fresh blood.
A soldier loads his rocket launcher firing. A 40-mm RPG soars through the air. Sheva's heat sensors detect the projectile. She activates her autonomic system swerving right. The RPG misses the SUV detonating against the blacktop. A fiery miasma and serrated shrapnel peels back her battered shell. Sheva clocks the quarter mile mark, initiates her internal chronometer, and taps enemy coms into her owner's helmet, before transferring her core matrix and memory modules.
"Gama Rose," her pursuers' C.O. identifies his superior, "we have her cornered. What's your orders, Ma'am?"
"Excellent work, Colonel Bradford. You've exceeded my expectations," she gives him some positive reinforcement. "Now finish her off, then regroup with Astrid Company. We still need to capture that green bitch, preferably alive, before that blue moron figures out Necros double-crossed him".
"We'll regroup with Astrid Company within 10-minutes, Ma'am".
"See that you do, Colonel," Gama Rose disconnects, leaving his mind to wonder his consequences if he should fail to do so.
"Did you hear that, Kimberly?"
"I sure did, Sheva".
Colonel Bradford and his remaining men climb outside their SUVs gathering around hers with guns drawn. "Kimberly Ann Possible, get out with your hands up," the colonel beckons the driver.
"Why should I?" The clone balks over his orders. "You'll kill me either way".
"Maybe? Maybe not? You don't get out. And we definitely will," he counters.
'1-minute and 44-seconds,' she checks her chronometer.
"Alright," she gets out with her hands up. "Now what?"
"Now this," he nods. Colonel Bradford and his men open with raw fury. The clone jerks violently as various caliber rounds tear through various parts of her anatomy. She cries aloud with one final breath collapsing over the pavement. The soldiers didn't quit until their guns clicked empty. Each makes his way closer gloating over his handiwork.
"They're still outside the lethal blast radius, Kimberly".
She was about to order the SUV's detonation. An F-16C thunders overhead dropping a GBU-24 LGB. The Mark 84 warhead descend with a piercing whistle. The bomb burrows slam through the SUV and 6-ft (or 1.8-meters) deeper into the ground below. Its detonation destabilizes the ground beneath them. The ground caves in swallowing everyone and everything, as an all-consuming inferno below reduces people to ashes and their vehicles to empty, warped, metallic sarcophagi.
Luckily, Kim was outside the blast radius. "Sheva, track that plane".
"Why Kim?"
"That's no F-16C. That aircraft isn't equipped to flight within this distortion field".
"Kim, I've lost its signal. The fighter jet must have anti-radar capabilities".
"That can only mean, we're dealing with insurrectionists," Kim cranks her Kawasaki Ninja H2R taking off at a high rate of speed. She didn't want to be here when the cops arrived.
Catching The Wave
Dr. Director fumed inside her office over what'd occurred earlier inside CNC. A knock interrupts her private brooding. "Enter, Commander," she'd know his distinctive knock anywhere.
"Director, local units finally arrived on scene. Well, Ma'am," he hesitates delivering the bad news.
"She's dead, isn't she?"
"How' you know, Director?"
"I didn't," she admits guessing. "You just told me, Commander".
"I did?"
"Not in so many words, Commander," she explains her deductions. "How'd she die?"
"Her pursuers damaged her vehicle so severely. She couldn't run any longer. She lured them all in closer detonating the vehicle".
"How many are dead? How many are alive?"
"The local coroner confirms sixteen dead, and six alive, but critical, Director".
She read him like a book. "What else do you have, Commander?"
"Well," he clears his throat, unsure how she'd take this, "Kim Possible sent us a video a minute or so before triggering her vehicle's fail-safe killing herself and them".
"Let me hear the recording," she sits back shoving aside her furor.
Will Du plays the intercepted conversation between Gama Rose and Colonel Bradford. He waits until she'd heard everything before asking, "Director, who or what is Necros? I realize, it's a terror organization, which just rose to power. I can't understand, though. We haven't heard any chatter whatsoever about this new player. Apparently, you have. We have a file about this organization. It's CF-3 encrypted..."
Dr. Director sympathizes with his frustrations. He'd worked long hours to acquire his current clearance level. She doesn't excuse her decision in denying him access unto this file or explain why it'd even been encrypted in the fist place.
He must realize she didn't have to explain her actions to him. He wasn't her boss. She was his superior. She made decisions above his paygrade every day. She couldn't upgrade his security level, just so he could access a single file, without jeopardizing internal security.
Trying to explain her reasoning for deny his clearance would only wound his fragile male pride deeper. Hence, she does the only thing she could think of, "As you know, CF-3 restricts a file where only Deputy Director Elias Ballesteros, me, or someone else with GSC Level-4 or above clearance can access our Necros file".
She eases this blow by reasserting her trust, "I'm lifting that restriction. Necros escalated its threat level by killing my agent. The CIA believes, Senor Senor started Necros to unite the villain community, in response to infiltration efforts by the law enforcement community. It seems, the old man bit off more than he could chew.
A younger, shrewder competitor put a contract on Senor Senor's head. A rogue assassin has systematically terminated Senor Senor, Junior, his wife, Bonnie Senor, along with Erwin Demenz, a.k.a. Professor Dementor, Electronique, Dr. Amy Hall, a.k.a. DNAmy, and his closest backers.
We suspect this same assassin murdered each target. He/she carefully staged the scene, leaving behind enough key evidence to implicate someone else, where local, state, and federal authorities could close their cases quickly and wouldn't waste their time, money, and manpower probing these murders anymore.
We believe, but cannot prove, Necros was Drakken's secret backer during the Lil' Diablo Fiasco. If true, that would mean Senor Senor rallied the investors backing Drakken's hostile takeover of Bueno Nacho, Nakasumi Toys, and installing that infernal control towers across the globe.
Now, someone has murdered Senor and his backers, taking over Necros. I don't know what this new boss' plans are. I only know, whatever they are, Shego plans an intricate part in his/her nefarious plans. And that can't be good for global security.
Kim Possible knew these people better than anyone else. I believe, Bonnie Rockwaller and Kimberly staged their rivalry, giving Miss Rockwaller the perfect cover to marry Junior and infiltrate the villain community. She, in turn, fed Kimberly key intel, which was what kept her one-step ahead of her villain rivals, whereas, we were always one-step behind".
Du could be a little petty at time. Yet, even she realized, he had heart and desired to serve his country. She pricks his pride, giving him extra incentive, "Well, Commander, you always wanted to prove you were better than Kim Possible. Here's your chance".
"What are my mission parameters?" Will takes this assignment seriously, getting into mission mode, though he'd never say it aloud. It'd sound too much like G.J.'s Poster Girl. And he was better.
"I never gave this order," Dr. Director warns him. This mission isn't sanctioned. We're overstepping Global Justice's assigned jurisdiction. But, "Get out there, turn over any rock you have to, but find Shego. Do whatever it takes. You cannot let her fall into Necros' hands. Kill her if you must".
"Kill?" Will never imagined he'd ever receive that order.
"Kill," Dr. Director deadpans without apology, assuring him, he'd heard her right. His mission was this serious. Fail and thousands could needlessly perish.
"I understand, Director," Will salutes to acknowledge his mission, then turns and leaves without another word. He heads straight towards CNC to gather all necessary intel to accomplish this mission.
"I only pray you do, Commander," Dr. Director comments behind closed doors. His voice reverberating around an empty office.
