STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The characters of Kim Possible, Dr. James Timothy Possible, Dr. Anne Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Steve Barkin, Bonnie Rockwaller, Monique, Tara, Felix Renton, Rufus the Naked Mole Rat, Drew "Dr. Drakken" Lipsky, Shego, Dr. Dementor, Lord Montgomery "Monkey Fist" Fiske, Señor Senior Senior, Señor Senior Junior, Dr. Betty Director, Special Agent Will Du, Global Justice and any and all other minor characters/locations from the television series Kim Possible are the sole property of the Walt Disney Corporation, and are used herein without permission or contest to their ownership for the sole purpose of personal, non-profit entertainment. Any and all minor characters that have not appeared in the television series, and this storyline, are the sole creation and property of the author and may not be reproduced without prior consent (if you want to post it, just ask).
A/N: After several delays (not to mention a wicked case of writer's block), here is Chapter Thirteen for your reading and reviewing pleasure! Thanks to jkrust78, dbzgtfan2004, screaming phoenix, shana elmsford, KP's Man, CajunBear73 and Katsumara for reviewing on the last chapter and to all those who've added my story to their favorites. As always, those reviews and additions are what keep the fire burning.
On that note; enjoy!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as Yori was off the phone with Kate, she left the hospital room and made her way outside in hopes of tracking down the young man, mutterings that sounded awfully like "baka gaijin" escaping her lips as she crossed the street to the parking lot. Seeing no sign of him, she continued in the general direction of where Kim's car had been parked when she was abducted, hoping to at least find a clue.
She had just about arrived at the loudly-colored car when she heard the roar of an American-built V8 engine approaching. Spinning around, she was about to drop into a defensive crouch when she saw the source of the sound.
"Get in," Kate said, stopping her car perpendicular to Kim's hatchback. Yori complied and climbed into the passenger's side, the former villainess driving away before she could even get her door shut.
"You certainly did not waste time, Kate-san," she quipped as she fastened her seatbelt.
"Well, when you find out that one of your best friends has been kidnapped and the other one—who's supposed to be healing from a gunshot wound—decides to up and fuck off from the hospital before he's even healed, you tend to not dick around," Kate replied, flashing her Global Justice credentials to the rent-a-cop at the parking gate.
"Of course," the Japanese woman said simply.
"So you tried to stop Ron when he left, right?" the mint-skinned woman said as she merged into traffic. "What did he say to you, or did he basically tell you to go pound sand?"
"Not long after I finished speaking on the telephone with Wade-sama, Ron-kun awakened and told me he knew Kim-chan was in trouble. I asked him if he'd overheard me speaking to Wade-sama and he said no; he told me he saw it in his mind's eye and said he must go to her. When I asked him to remain where he was and to allow himself to heal, he merely told me that this was something he had to do and nothing would stop him. I gave him opportunity to leave the room before I called you and advised you of the situation. I did not wish to deceive him in such a manner, but I saw no other alternative."
"That's okay, Yori; you did the best you could," Kate said, picking her cell phone up from its resting place between the seats. Flipping it open, she called one of the numbers on her contact list and placed the device to her ear. "Wade, it's Kate," she said after a moment.
"Hey Kate, where are you?"
"You even have to ask me? I'm just leaving the hospital."
"Sorry, I don't actively track you unless I need to," the tech guru replied.
"Fair enough; I just picked Yori up in the hospital parking lot," she said, her eyes flickering briefly towards the ninja beside her. "She said that Ron told her he was going to save Kim—apparently he had a vision that told him she was in trouble—and he wasn't taking no for an answer."
"Sounds like Ron," Wade chuckled, "he can be the most absent-minded and random guy you know; but once he's got his mind set on something he's got focus like you wouldn't believe."
"I know," she muttered, a vague recollection of his Zorpox days sending a shudder up her spine. "I guess the next question is do you have any suggestions on how we track Monkey Boy down?"
"Actually, I do," the teen replied. "Some time ago I planted a tracking chip on him so we would be able to track him—mostly for if he got captured or lost. He was pretty upset when we told him about it, but when I explained why Kim and I thought it would be a good idea and I told him I would only use it if we absolutely needed to find him, he warmed up to it."
"How detailed of a chip is it?"
"It's just a basic RFID chip; all it does is tells me where it's located at any given time… and right now it looks like he's in his bedroom at his house."
"Can you send that to the GPS unit in the car?"
"Already done," Wade replied. Sure enough, the GPS unit mounted on the dashboard of Kate's car lit up with directions to Ron's house from her current position.
"Kimmie always said you had the world wired," she quipped as she looked at the readout. As luck would have it, they were only two blocks away and managed to arrive in less than a minute, the Crown Vic's tires squealing lightly in protest as the jade-hued woman behind the wheel swung the big car in the driveway. "Is he still here?" she asked the tech guru, having kept him on the line the whole time.
"Yeah, he's still in his bedroom; his car's in the garage, so he might be headed for that next."
"Well, let's just make sure he can't get anywhere without giving us some answers," she muttered, easing the sedan's front bumper up to the garage until there was only about two inches between the front license plate and the garage door. Shutting the car off, she got out and took a cursory look around the yard for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing nothing, she spoke again. "I'm gonna see if I can go in and at least talk to him, Wade; Yori'll keep watch out here," she said, shooting an inquisitive glance at the young ninja, who nodded in agreement.
"Okay; call me back if you have any trouble," Wade said before hanging up.
Kate snapped the phone shut and stuck it back in her pocket before starting up the walkway to the house. Behind her, she could hear Yori climb out of the car and stand in the driveway to keep watch. Nodding in approval to herself, she strode up to the front door and tried it. Unlocked; that's a good sign.
Stepping across the threshold, she looked around for any signs of Ron's presence. Seeing none right away, she pushed the door shut behind her and proceeded through the house with all five senses on high alert. As she approached the staircase that led to the upper floors, she remembered she wasn't stalking an enemy and decided to quit playing Pink Panther. "Ron?" she called up the stairs. "It's me, Kate; can I come up?"
Rather than yell a response, Ron came down the second flight of stairs that led to his attic bedroom and stopped at the head of the first staircase. "Hey Kate," he said, pulling his gloves on as he continued down the stairs, "what're you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question," she deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just what in the hell are you trying to prove, anyway? You know you've got your parents and your in-laws—oh, come on; you know it's gonna happen—worried sick about you right now?"
"I'm fine, Kate; really," he said with a shrug, pulling up his shirttail far enough to show her the wound—or lack thereof.
Kate couldn't believe her eyes when she saw it. Instead of a red, raw mess of a hole with stitches sticking out of it, Ron's abdomen sported a scar similar to the one she had; albeit a little larger in diameter and accompanied by an incision scar about three inches long. "How the hell…?"
"Do you really need to ask that question?" Ron interjected, his eyes flickering blue for the slightest moment.
"Point taken," she acquiesced. "So how are you gonna explain that one to the doctors?"
"Cross that bridge when we come to it," he said as he started for the door. "I'm assuming Wade figured out where I was?"
"Yeah, he was on that the second Yori told him you'd left your hospital room," the green-hued woman said as she followed the young man through the door, stopping long enough to let him close and lock it. "We were scared you were just gonna take off to find Kim still in your johnny shirt."
"Even with as many 'wardrobe malfunctions' as I've had, I wouldn't be headed out to try and save Kim with my bare backside hanging out," Ron said dryly as they approached the car standing in the driveway. "I'm guessing you wanted to make sure I didn't get away?" he said when he noticed the proximity of the Ford's front bumper to the garage door.
"I just wanted to make sure you didn't decide to do exactly what you wanted us to keep Kim from doing," she said, motioning for him to get in the car. Yori, taking the initiative of being the smaller of the two, had already taken the back seat.
"I actually planned on getting hold of you after I finished getting ready, but you beat me to it," he said once he'd climbed in the passenger's seat.
"Why would you not tell me your plans when you left the hospital, Ron-kun?" the young ninja asked as Kate backed the car out of the driveway.
"I just wanted to get moving; I figured it would work out faster if I contacted you guys once I was on the move and we could meet somewhere along the way," he replied with a shrug.
"Does it really matter one way or another?" Kate interjected as she fished her cell phone from her pocket. "At least this way we can concentrate on finding Kim."
"The sooner the better," Ron added grimly, his gaze locked on the windshield and the road beyond.
"No kidding," Kate agreed as she put the phone to her ear, having just re-dialed Wade's number again. "Wade, Kate here; I just picked Ron up and we're on our way to Phoenix headquarters."
"You're kidding, right?" Wade said in disbelief. "You're really taking him back to the hospital where he belongs… right?"
"Long story, Wade; just trust me when I tell you that he's in fighting form and is ready to kick Phoenix ass for screwing with Team Possible," the former villainess said, casting a quick wink and a smirk at the young man seated next to her. "All we need now is the airfield's location uploaded to the car's GPS."
"Okay," the teen guru said dubiously, sending the requested coordinates to the unit mounted on the Crown Vic's dashboard. "I've just been talking to Dr. Director; she said Agent Rhonda Bartlett's team has been deployed to the Phoenix base and will stand by on the perimeter; they'll be deferring to us this time."
That should help matters, Kate thought to herself. "Good; tell them we'll be in touch if we need them," she said before hanging up. On the dashboard, the GPS unit had lit up with the quickest route from their current position to the Phoenix Corporation's headquarters highlighted in red. Casting a brief glance in the rear-view mirror at the Japanese woman seated in the back, she then turned to look at Ron. "Time to see what this grocery-getter can do," she said with a sadistic smirk as she pressed the accelerator to the floor.
As soon as Wade disconnected from speaking with Kate, he picked the phone right back up and dialed the Possible residence. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Anne Possible picked up the phone before the first ring had even completed. "Please tell me you have good news," she said, not even bothering to say hello.
"As a matter of fact, I have," he replied with the barest hint of a smile in his voice. "Kate just found Ron and he's okay."
"Oh, thank God," the neurosurgeon breathed, "is she bringing him back to the hospital?"
"No," the young tech phenom replied with a hint of trepidation, "they're on their way to find and rescue Kim."
Anne Possible exploded in a way that would make proponents to the stereotype surrounding redheads and their tempers proud. "What?" she bellowed, her grip on the telephone tightening to the point her knuckles whitened. "What the hell are they thinking? Ron's in no condition to be out gallivanting around like that!"
"That's what I said," he replied, hoping to placate her, "but Kate assured me he's okay and ready to go back into action."
"I don't believe this," the neurosurgeon seethed, "but there's not much I can do about it right now. I will, however, tell you this," she continued, her voice dangerously low, "if anything—and I mean anything—happens to him as a direct result of complications with his injury, rest assured I'm holding that green-skinned bitch solely responsible."
"I-I'll… pass that along," Wade stammered, sweat beading on his brow. "I'll keep you up to speed on any developments."
"I would expect nothing less of you, Wade," the elder redhead said in a softer voice before hanging up.
"Anne?" Dean Stoppable said, looking at his friend with a questioning gaze. "What was that all about?"
Sighing, Anne slumped back into her seat at the kitchen table and rested her elbows on the table before dropping her head into her hands, fingers woven through her red tresses. "Ron is apparently going with Kate to save Kim," she said in a voice devoid of emotion.
"But he's still hurt!" Jean exclaimed, her eyes wide in shock. "How could he possibly be in any condition to go on a mission like that?"
"Apparently he's in better shape than we thought; Wade said that Kate reassured him Ron was okay… for now we'll have to trust them."
"We can only pray they're right," James Possible murmured, a thousand-yard stare on his face.
I don't care what anybody says; being a prisoner just plain sucks, Kim thought as she sat in a lotus position on the bunk in her cell. In the short time she'd been imprisoned, she'd taken the time to examine her injuries (nothing serious, but she was pretty sure she'd have to go see the dentist about a loose molar), performed some of her favorite kata (under the watchful and lecherous eye of the guard stationed outside her door) and practiced a few of the meditation techniques Ron and his Sensei had taught her; the last of which she was just finishing.
Breathing a heavy sigh, the lithe redhead unfolded her legs and stood back up, walking softly to the heavy steel door that separated her room from the rest of the complex. Peering through the Plexiglas window set into the steel, she could see the single armed guard that stood to the side of the door, his Uzi submachine gun resting lightly in his hands, the brunt of its weight being taken by the sling over his shoulder—apparently he'd lost interest in watching her when she switched from her kata to meditation. Other than that, she could see no sign of anybody else in the corridor, giving her the faintest notion of an idea. At first she dismissed the idea as ludicrous the second it passed through her mind; but as she continued to ponder on it, the more plausible it seemed. It's worth a shot, if nothing else, she mused, but if somebody's watching it could blow the entire plan.
Stepping away from the door, the teen heroine did another circuit of her less-than-spacious accommodations, this time surreptitiously stealing glances into the corners and at other objects planted around the room, inspecting them for the possibility of concealing security cameras. If she found any, she knew she would have to find another way of possibly getting away from her captors; a way that wouldn't involve what she had in mind. If I really even want to go through with it, she mused, but right now I don't see another choice.
For the first time since she'd first been abducted in Middleton, however, luck was on her side. Following her complete inspection of the room, the former cheerleader found no signs of any concealed (or non-concealed) cameras, prompting her to put her plan into action as she stopped in front of the mirror mounted on the wall above the sink. If I'm gonna pull this off, I have to look the part, she thought as she took down her ponytail, wrapping the elastic around her wrist and running her fingers through her hair, teasing it back to life. While it didn't completely return to its usual body and luster, it was better than leaving it pulled back; at least, for what she had in mind.
On the other side of the door, the guard peeked through the window just as Kim had started adjusting her hair and attire and was, quite frankly, enjoying the show. Ever since he'd been assigned guard duty, he'd been stealing glances into the cell and lusting after the young woman inside, especially when he saw how gracefully she moved through her kata. Now that she'd taken her hair down, he found her almost irresistible… especially considering the outfit she wore left little to the imagination.
Kim chose that moment to look towards the door, catching the guard red-handed in staring at her. Rather than scowl or flip him off as he expected, however, the nubile redhead instead gazed at him through half-lidded eyes and smiled coyly, her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her shorts and pushing them dangerously low on her hips, exposing part of the stringy waistband of her underwear.
He watched, mesmerized by her movements as she sashayed towards the door, her gaze never leaving his. When she got within three steps of the door, she stopped and turned around, looking over her shoulder and winking at the guard as she started back towards the far wall, swinging her hips in much the same fashion she had when she left Ron's hospital room.
God I hope this works; I feel like such a tramp, she thought as she slowly sauntered away, making sure the waistband of her shorts rode low enough to expose the top edge of her thong to the guard. Normally she would only tease Ron in such a fashion and then only in private, which only served to further her discomfort with the situation, regardless of how necessary she deemed it to be.
Meanwhile, the guard outside the door was having a hard time concentrating on actually being a guard. As a result of Kim's display, his blood supply had left its usual channels and was being directed and focused on a single part of his anatomy. As a famous comedian once noted, "God must have a sense of humor, for He gave man two heads… and only enough blood to run one at a time," resulting in a serious lack of judgment on the guard's part as he withdrew the electronic key to the cell from his shirt pocket and ran it through the reader connected to the doorknob.
Kim stepped closer to the door when she heard the tone indicating the lock had been disengaged, followed by the door opening noiselessly on well-oiled hinges. Aiming a disarming smile at her captor (while she tried to keep her lunch inside her churning guts), she took two steps closer to him. "Hey there, hot stuff," she murmured huskily, "I've had my eye on you."
"No funny stuff," he warned in an unsteady voice as he pointed the Uzi at her.
"Too bad," she pouted, placing her hands on the clasp fastening her shorts, "I was kinda hoping for some funny stuff."
"So Little Miss Perfect ain't the sugar-sweet girl-next-door that everybody makes her out to be, huh?" the guard said with a smirk as he took another step forward, his eyes never leaving his prisoner's hands.
"Oh, not even close," the redhead replied; her voice barely above a whisper as she matched the guard's pace, step for step, one eye surreptitiously watching the Uzi's muzzle start to droop. "Nothing makes me hotter than being helpless in a prison cell; why do you think I let Drakken capture me so many times? The ways Shego used her hands…" she trailed off, her eyes closing as she slipped two fingertips under the waistband of her shorts with a low moan.
"So you really are a dyke?" the guard replied, sounding disappointed and breathless at the same time.
"Bi," Kim countered, her eyes still open in bare slits, but appearing closed to the guard, "I like women, but sometimes nothing beats the feeling of man-meat between my legs." Now I'm sounding like a cheap porno. "Have you got what I need?"
"Oh, fuck yeah," the guard replied as he started to struggle with his belt, his weapon hanging forgotten from his shoulder. He was within Kim's reach by that point and wasn't prepared when she sprang forward and drove her right elbow into his face, breaking his nose. Before he had a chance to reach for the Uzi again, she followed up with a right knee into his groin, doubling him over in pain.
"Wrong, scumbag; the proper term is 'fuck you'," she growled, all pretense of an aroused submissive replaced by an enraged and disgusted sneer as she finished him with a kick to the chin, ignoring the short burst of pain that shot through her bare foot. Without a sound, the guard straightened to full height before falling on his back, unconscious. Quickly re-fastening the button of her shorts, Kim wasted no time in stripping the man of his weaponry—along with the Uzi, he carried a Glock 17 on his right hip, extra clips for both it and the Uzi on his belt and a Bowie knife on his boot—and the keycard for the cell before locking him inside. "Pervert," she muttered just before closing the door.
Okay, Kim; you've got yourself out of the cell after making yourself out to be the biggest slut this side of Vegas; now you've gotta get out of the building before they miss you and snag you again, she thought as she started sprinting down the hallway. With the Uzi slung across her chest, the Glock in her right hand and the Bowie knife in its sheath on her waistband at the small of her back, she made her way to the first intersection and peered around the corner, holding the pistol in a perfect Weaver grip at the ready. Seeing nobody, she dashed around the corner and continued along the wall, peeking behind her at various intervals to make sure nobody popped up behind her.
Kim continued in this manner for about three corridors before she started getting nervous. I haven't seen anybody yet, but God only knows how long that'll hold out, she mused, stopping at the intersection of yet another corridor. Deciding she liked her chances better if she got out of the hallways, the teen backtracked to a door she'd just passed and stopped beside it, pressing her ear against it to listen for any signs of life. Hearing none, she tried the knob and, finding it unlocked, slowly turned it and slipped inside, quickly and silently closing it again before studying the room in greater detail.
As it turned out, Kim had stumbled upon an emergency stairwell. Judging by the amount of dust along the railings and the state of disrepair the lights were in, she figured it didn't get used all that often. Alright, things are starting to look up, she mused as she started up the concrete stairs, mindful to keep out of sight of the doorways on each floor. Just hope nobody decides to feel especially active and take the stairs while I'm in here, she thought wryly as looked up at the upper levels.
Kim didn't realize it, but she couldn't have chosen a better time to leave the hallways and start up the stairs. Mere moments after she'd ducked into the stairwell, an armed guard turned the corner and backtracked the course the teen had just traveled; on his way to relieve the guard that had been stationed outside her cell. "Why do they always have to give me graveyard guard duty?" he grumbled to himself as he marched through the corridor. "Craig's been here less time than I have, why didn't he get graveyard?"
As he turned the corner to the corridor where Kim's cell was located, however, he could immediately tell something was amiss. Grabbing the H&K MP5 submachine gun that was hanging casually over his shoulder, he quickly dashed to the door and looked inside. When he saw the guard he was supposed to be relieving lying on the floor with a bloody nose and a busted chin, he knew everything had just gone down the crapper.
"Shit," he muttered as he grabbed the two-way radio he wore on his belt. "Macau to security; come in."
"Security here; go ahead, Macau," the tinny voice responded almost immediately.
"Security breach in Holding Area One; prisoner has escaped and is assumed armed. One man is down; appears to still be alive."
"Affirmative, Macau; sending reinforcements and med staff your way," the security agent replied, at the same time sounding the alarm to alert the personnel of the situation.
"Ten-four," Macau said, replacing the radio on his belt before using his own keycard to open the door. As he entered, the guard lying on the floor started coming around. "Craig?"
"Oh, man… what the fuck…?" Craig moaned, sitting up. "What happened?"
"I should be asking you what happened, you dumbass!" Macau snapped, grabbing Craig by the collar and pulling him onto his feet. "How in the reign of Christ did you ever manage to let that little bitch turn the tables on you?"
"It was her fault!" the injured guard whined. "She started prancing around, playing with herself and telling me she wanted a good fuck and when I came in to give her what she wanted, she sucker-punched me!"
"And you fell for it!" Macau roared, tempted to knock the incompetent guard out again. "Jesus Christ, Craig; I always knew you weren't exactly a bright boy, but I didn't think even you could be this fucking stupid! Now we gotta comb this whole complex from the bottom up and try to find that little bitch before she gets away… all because you were thinking with your dick!"
"My team will look after that, Macau; you just take your little bitch over to the infirmary to get that nose looked at… I'm willing to bet it hurts like hell."
Macau whirled around to face the newcomer. "Fuck off, Peregrine; this is none of your concern," he snapped.
"Not my concern, huh?" the young mercenary echoed, her eyebrow quirked. "Catching Kim Possible will make my career, asshole! If she gets away, my reputation's shot! As it is Hawk's client is here to pick her up; now I have to tell him she got away!"
"And that's none of my concern, Peregrine," Macau replied with a sneer as he escorted Craig out of the room to the waiting medic.
"Dumb fucks," she muttered under her breath, "I knew I should've killed that trollop when I had the chance." Turning on her heel, she returned to the hallway and stopped beside Macau and Craig; the latter of the two having his broken nose tended to. "What did you have on you for weapons, Craig?"
"A Glock 17, an Uzi and a Bowie knife," he replied, wincing as the medic touched his nose.
"Fuck," Peregrine muttered as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Dialing a number from memory, she placed the device to her ear. "Buzzard; Peregrine here… yeah, I know; I'm down here now with the shithead that let it happen… good; check the elevators and the stairwells and tell your crews that whoever finds her is to hang onto her and wait for me… I don't give a fuck what Hawk said, this is what I'm telling you; Possible is mine!" With that, she snapped the phone shut and replaced it in her pocket and turned to face Macau again. "When the medic's done with horn-dog over there, throw him back in that cell; I'm not done with him," she said, stalking off in search of her prey.
"I wonder if I should waste my time on you," the medic mused causally once Peregrine was out of earshot. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least if Peregrine just plain kills you for letting Possible get away… and all because you wanted to get your dicky sticky." Macau shook his head in disbelief as Craig's eyes went wide in near-panic at the statement.
"You're stalling."
Hawk looked across his desk at the two men seated there incredulously. "I'm stalling?" he repeated. "Whatever makes you think that?"
"You knew I was coming and at approximately what time I would arrive," the same man said, his voice no longer distorted, "which should have given you ample opportunity to ensure she was prepared for my arrival."
"She's locked up in a cell in a different building," Hawk retorted indignantly, "it takes time to prepare a prisoner to move from one location to another."
"I'm well aware of prisoner transportation protocols, Mr. Hawk," the client replied flatly, "but you could have started the preparation process when you got off the telephone with me rather than wait until my arrival, saving both of us precious time."
Hawk was about to offer a retort when there was a quick knock on his door, followed by Peregrine walking in brazenly. "We need to talk… in private," she said, emphasizing the last word for the benefit of the man's guests.
"Very well, Peregrine; if you gentlemen would be so kind as to wait outside, I'm sure this won't take a minute," the enigmatic man said, motioning to the door with his left hand.
"Somehow I think it would be in our best interests to hear whatever it is this young lady has to say," the man said with a smirk, remaining in his seat.
"Boss, I really think…"
"I don't pay you to think, Peregrine; that's my job," Hawk snapped, slamming his palm on his desk. "Now what's so important that you had to interrupt my meeting with our clients?"
"You're the boss," Peregrine shrugged, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Possible's loose and armed."
"What? How did she manage to get away?"
"Craig Forsythe was on guard duty and apparently thinks more with his cock than he does with his brain," she replied dryly. "He decided to go in and try to get a piece and she got the drop on him."
"I believe I warned you of the repercussions of underestimating Kim Possible," Hawk's client interjected knowingly.
"Fuck me," the Phoenix chief muttered under his breath before speaking to Peregrine again. "How far has she gotten and what are we doing to fix it?"
"We've got her confined to the hangar building; she was locked up in one of the holding cells in the basement. As soon as we found out she'd escaped we put the entire security team on high alert; nobody's been in or out of the building in the last fifteen minutes, so we know she's still in there somewhere."
"Are you absolutely sure?" the client challenged smugly. "In my past experiences, Kim Possible has proven to be slipperier than a greased eel; several times I've seen her escape an impossible trap with seemingly no effort… obviously she's done so again with her ingenuity—and a little help from her feminine wiles, I'm sure—so who's to say she's even still on the property?"
For the first time since they found out about the security breach, Peregrine felt a hint of doubt creep into her mind. How long was it between Kim Possible's escape and when it was discovered? How could they be sure she was still in the hangar building? If enough time had elapsed following her escape, she could easily have snuck off without anybody noticing. Sure, the area was mostly desert, but there were still patches of scrub and knolls that a person could easily hide behind to avoid detection. "I'll broaden the search area," she growled in an undertone before spinning on her heel to leave the office.
"I hope for your sake that your staff manages to find Miss Possible," the client said coldly, drawing a Walther PPK from his jacket pocket, "or else things could end badly for you."
Hawk stared in shock at the weapon currently being pointed at his forehead. "What the fuck is this shit?" he demanded indignantly, moving his right hand toward a concealed silent alarm button under his desk.
"Hands where I can see them, Mr. Hawk," the man cautioned, his finger curling around the trigger of his weapon. "If you sound any type of alarm, I will not hesitate to kill you where you sit."
Realizing his options were slim, the Phoenix figurehead nodded and withdrew his hands from under the desk, the emergency signal remaining untouched. "Fine, we'll play it your way," he muttered, placing his hands on top of the polished wooden surface.
"I knew you would see things my way," the client smirked, leaning back in his seat; the barrel of his PPK never wavering.
"You do realize how long it might take them to find her, right?"
"I've told you before, Mr. Hawk; I am a patient man when the need arises… I have no problem with waiting as long as it takes to get what I want."
Okay, this level's got two doors… could I be so lucky? Kim wondered as she hit the second landing up from her starting point. Unlike the previous level, this landing had a door on either side of the stairwell, opposite each other. With an extra-cautious step, the redhead crept over to the door to her right and peeked through the glass, immediately suppressing a cry of joy when she saw the night sky and solid ground beyond it.
Her elation was short-lived, however, when she saw the number of armed guards wandering around the premises not six feet from where she stood. Sighing, she ducked away from the window and pressed herself up to the wall beside the door. Obviously they know I got out, she thought, so how do I get out of here without getting caught? Creeping across the landing to the other door, she eased it open as quietly as she could and slipped through the smallest space as she could.
Looking around the vast expanse of the room she'd just entered, Kim knew instantly she'd stumbled upon the same hangar bay where she'd first been so unceremoniously delivered to the Phoenix Corporation. Closing the heavy steel stairwell door as silently as she could, the redhead crouched low and crept along the wall, her eyes constantly scanning for feasible means of escape.
Her entry hadn't gone unnoticed, however. Across the massive space, a member of the Phoenix security team had seen her slip through the door and managed to duck behind the same Ford cargo van she'd originally been delivered in before she saw him. Peeking around the rear corner of the van, he watched her slip along the wall and disappear behind a flat-black, first generation Hummer.
Grinning maliciously to himself, the man took the MP5 he carried and put it up to his shoulder, watching through the sights for the teen to emerge from behind the utility vehicle. He was rewarded moments later when Kim emerged from the other side of the Hummer, unaware he had the drop on her. "Hold it right there!" he called out as he stepped out from behind the van.
Kim reacted the nanosecond she heard the man's voice, diving back behind the Hummer she'd just come from behind; the chatter of his submachine gun following her. "Damn," she muttered, double-checking the Glock in her hands, "I really didn't want to get into a firefight… especially if I'm gonna end up outnumbered."
"C'mon, Possible; there's no way out!" the man yelled, still standing in front of the van. "I've got backup on the way; you'll be outnumbered in no time!"
He's probably right, but I'm not going down without a fight, she thought. "Check my name, buddy!" she called out, moving into position as she spoke. "Anything's possible for a Possible!"
"You mean like getting that pretty little head of yours shot full of lead? Fuckin' right!" he retorted, slowly advancing on Kim's position.
By this time Kim had worked her way into a prone position underneath the Hummer, managing to remain hidden from her adversary's view while still able to see his feet as he started across the floor. Smirking to herself, the teen brought her Glock to bear and took careful aim, drawing a deep breath through her mouth and holding it before she squeezed the trigger. With a howl of pain, the man collapsed to the floor, his hands flying to his now-ruined kneecap, his MP5 clattering forgotten to the floor.
As soon as she'd fired, Kim rolled out from under the Hummer and climbed to her feet, her ears still ringing from the report of the pistol within the enclosed space under the vehicle. Ignoring the self-inflicted tinnitus, the redhead strode quickly to where the man laid, blood oozing between his fingers from the wound in his knee. "Where are the keys to the Hummer?" she asked, keeping the Glock's muzzle directed at his face.
"You ain't got the guts to kill me," he snarled, his face contorted in pain as he eyed his submachine gun laying a foot from his head.
"Oh, I have no intention of killing you," Kim replied, placing her foot on the MP5's chassis, "but I can make sure you live the rest of your life in misery. As it is you'll never walk properly again… one more shot and you'll never walk again, period… not to mention it'll hurt like a son-of-a-bitch."
"You wouldn't…"
"Not if you don't give me a reason to," she said truthfully, "but if you didn't learn your lesson the first time, then I may have to… are you willing to risk it?"
He hesitated for a brief moment; trying to size up the young woman standing in front of him. Of course he, like just about everybody else on the planet, knew who Kim Possible was and what she stood for, but he was having a hard time reconciling that image with the woman that stood before him. Realizing that her Glock never wavered, however, prompted him to decide discretion was the better part of valor as he placed his hands palm-down on the floor and laid his head back, closing his eyes. "Keys are in a cabinet over the workbench on the far wall," he muttered, the pain creeping into his voice.
"Smart man," Kim said with a smirk as she took her foot off the gun and picked it up, one eye constantly on the injured man to ensure he made no sudden moves. "I think I should probably take this with me so you don't shoot me in the back, don't you?" she said cheerily, slinging it across her chest in the opposite direction of the Uzi she already carried. Reaching down, she quickly frisked the man to confirm he had no other weapons he could use on her while she had her back turned; the entire time her Glock remaining trained on either his left knee or his right shoulder. He was in enough pain that he wouldn't put up a fight, but the redheaded heroine didn't like the idea of taking chances.
Satisfied the man was secured, Kim jogged across the hangar to the cabinet he'd directed her to. Opening it, she immediately started scanning through the myriad of keyrings hanging on the pegs within, hoping to find the one that belonged to the Hummer without too much trouble.
"Don't make another move, Possible."
Kim froze stock-still, the unexpected voice catching her off-guard. She knew the voice didn't belong to the man she'd already encountered, which had to mean somebody else had just gotten the drop on her. This just went from bad to worse, she thought.
"Hands in the air and take your gun in your left hand by the barrel," the voice said, emphasizing the statement with the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
"Okay, just stay cool," Kim said in a calm voice. Holding her hands slightly higher than her head, she slowly transferred the Glock from her right hand to her left, holding it by the barrel, upside-down.
"Turn around," the voice said.
Using slow, deliberate movements, Kim turned around to face the speaker, making sure to not make any move that could be considered hostile. When she saw who the owner of the voice—which she'd thought sounded familiar—was, though, her face contorted in rage. "Peregrine," she seethed.
Sure enough, Peregrine stood facing the teen with a SIG P220 aimed directly at her. "Good girl," the young mercenary said with a feral grin. "Now, take the submachine guns by their slings and put them on the floor."
"Tell me something," Kim said conversationally as she fulfilled the other woman's request, "why didn't you just kill me? You had the drop on me and I know for a fact you would love nothing more than to put a hole in my skull, yet now that you have a golden opportunity to, you haven't; why not?"
"Oh, it's taking a lot of willpower on my part to not squeeze this trigger… but money talks," the slightly-older woman said. "If I kill you, I don't get paid—simple as that."
"That's what I thought," Kim said as she placed the Uzi beside the already-dropped MP5 at her feet. As she straightened back up, she surreptitiously slipped the index finger of her left hand inside the trigger guard of her Glock, the maneuver going unnoticed by the mercenary across from her.
"Not that you would understand the thought of turning a profit," Peregrine sneered, "what with your holier-than-thou attitude and idealistic morals… quite frankly, the thought that you'd even consider using that gun shocks the hell out of me."
"I've explained that before to others," Kim replied. "Once you have your eyes opened to reality, you realize that your ideals—as honorable and optimistic as they may be—might not be realistic enough to be feasible."
"You're right, y'know," the mercenary chuckled wryly. "I was a lot like you once… I used to believe in the good of people and the world in general. The more I read and saw in the news and on TV, though, the more I realized that only two things matter in this world—money and power—and they go hand-in-hand… which is why I joined Phoenix."
"I don't understand," Kim probed, hoping to keep her talking and—if she was lucky—distracted.
"I used to be with the Go City PD SWAT team," Peregrine replied with a hint of disdain, "as a sniper. Even then I was still an idealistic kid, but it all changed last year. We were dispatched to a hostage situation—not that different than the one you were involved with in Lowerton—and we were getting ready to take the guys down when it all went to shit.
"I had a bead on one of the suspects and my partner had another one in his sights; we were just waiting for somebody to get a clean shot at the third guy when somehow they got word that we were up there. One hostage was killed right off the bat, before we even had a chance to take them down; that's when I said 'fuck it' and took my shot.
"I killed my guy and the third suspect that nobody could get a bead on; my partner got his guy the same time I got my first guy," she continued, her face and voice emotionless and her gun never wavering from Kim. "After that the hostages were evacuated without any more casualties, but the damage was done.
"I was on my way back to the truck when it hit me; I didn't care that one of the hostages died," she said, no sign of remorse evident. "I did my job—I did it the best I could—and we still lost a hostage… and I didn't care."
"What do you mean you didn't care?" Kim asked, wary of the answer. "It didn't bother you that an innocent person died?"
"No, it didn't," Peregrine replied harshly. "I really didn't give a fuck that one of the hostages got his head blown off… looking back on it, if it came right down to it and I had to kill one of the hostages in order to take down my target, I would've done it.
"When I realized I didn't care who lived or died, I decided on a career change, even if I was only twenty-two," she continued with a shrug. "I decided the paychecks were higher and the risk was lower if I left the SWAT team and went out on my own and did contract work."
"So your morals are based on the dollar value associated with the sitch," Kim summarized, scowling in disgust. "How do you sleep at night?"
"Naked on my left side," Peregrine retorted, "and with a fat bank account."
"Didn't need to know that," the redhead muttered. "So how did you join up with the Phoenix Corporation?"
"They came to me," she replied. "I'd been doing hits for about six months and after I whacked a Mob capo that hired me two weeks before to whack a rival Mob capo, I got a request to meet a prospective new client for a business proposition."
"Let me guess; that was from Phoenix," Kim ventured.
"That's how they work," Peregrine confirmed with a nod. "One of their 'recruiters' was the contact I met, he made his pitch and here I am; steady pay, easy hours and all kinds of toys at my disposal.
"Now, I think we've had enough of the chit-chat," she continued, waggling her pistol slightly, "so if you'll just hand me your gun, we'll be on our way back to Hawk's office; your benefactors are waiting."
"You're the boss," Kim said with a shrug as the mercenary approached her with her hand outstretched. When she was just about within arms' reach, the teen made her move, swinging her left hand abruptly to her left and spoiling Peregrine's aim. At the same time, she took a step backwards and spun the pistol around her finger by the trigger guard 180 degrees, ending up with the grip in her hand, finger on the trigger and aiming directly at the surprised criminal before her.
"How the fuck did you do that?" Peregrine demanded.
"What can I say? I'm just full of surprises," Kim said with a smirk, "now drop the gun and put your hands on your head."
Peregrine complied, letting the P220 clatter to the floor and placing her hands on top of her head, lacing her fingers together. "I can't believe this," she growled under her breath. Aloud, she continued, "You do realize you've got no hope of getting out of here in once piece, right? You're outnumbered and outgunned at least three hundred to one."
"Then what say we even the odds a bit?"
Both Kim and Peregrine's heads snapped around to the source of the new voice; the former's face lighting up in a relieved smile. "Kate!" she cried out joyfully, recognizing the form of the green-skinned woman immediately.
Peregrine, however, used the momentary distraction to her advantage. Grabbing Kim's left wrist in her right hand, she twisted it painfully away, using a perfectly-aimed chop to the redhead's hand to dislodge her grip on the Glock, sending it clattering to the floor. Before she could pick either it or her own P220 up, though, Kim managed to lash out with her foot and kick the weapons out of arm's reach, breaking the slightly older woman's grasp at the same time and dropping into a defensive stance. "I don't need a gun to snap you like a twig, you little bitch," the mercenary snarled.
"Bring it," Kim replied, comfortable in her element as Peregrine charged.
Kate moved to jump into the fight, but a pair of hands—one on each of her biceps—held her back. "No, Kate; this is her fight," Ron muttered, making sure his voice was low enough to not carry to his girlfriend's ears, lest he distract her more.
"Ron-kun is right, Kate-san," Yori replied from the other side. "It is Kim-chan's honor to defeat her adversary without interference."
Growling in irritation under her breath, Kate nevertheless relented and stopped straining against her companions' hands. "If I see her try and pull a fast one on Kim, I'm going in," she warned, casting a hard glare at both teens that flanked her. "There is no way in hell I'm gonna let that bitch get one over on her."
"We wouldn't have it any other way," Ron said reassuringly, placing a hand on the mint-skinned woman's shoulder in gratitude.
During the exchange between Kate, Yori and Ron, Kim and Peregrine had launched their attacks; both women going all-out in an effort to take the other down. After about thirty seconds, the redhead started to feel a sense of familiarity in the fighting style of her adversary. "Taking hand-to-hand lessons from Shego?" she asked as she blocked a kick.
"Not directly, but I took it upon myself to learn everything I could about her; including every discipline of martial arts she knows," Peregrine replied, jumping over the leg sweep Kim directed at her. "She was my inspiration for a career change; especially after that SWAT fuck-up."
"What do you mean she was your inspiration?" Kim asked incredulously, still managing to concentrate on the fight.
"She showed me that somebody that used to be on the side of the law can easily switch to the more profitable team and be better than ever," the mercenary replied, ducking under a high kick and throwing a palm strike, which the redhead easily deflected. "When I was in high school, I used to follow her in the news… I wanted to be just like her."
"So you decided to follow her into a life of crime, huh?" the teen heroine guessed, managing to land a forceful kick into the older woman's thigh, but missing the follow-up palm strike aimed for her solar plexus.
"Not at first," Peregrine admitted, delivering a crescent kick aimed for Kim's head, which the younger woman ducked. "I was actually a little disappointed at first, but after that hostage case, I decided it sounded like a good idea."
"What if I told you that Shego decided to go back to the good guys?" Kim asked, this time successfully landing a strike to Peregrine's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her as she collapsed onto her back.
"I would say you're dumber than you look," she wheezed, staring up at her adversary, her breathing labored.
"What if I told you?" Kate interjected, stepping forward again, this time unhindered.
Kim never took her eyes off Peregrine this time as the mercenary turned to look at the tall, athletic woman that had just spoken. "Who the hell are you?" she asked, her voice still strained.
"Does this answer your question?" the former villainess replied, holding up her right hand and flaring her plasma.
"No way," Peregrine muttered under her breath as she realized who had spoken. "Shego…?"
"Shego is who I used to be," Kate replied, never slowing her advance, "but not anymore."
"You chickened out, didn't you?" Peregrine sneered as a squad of Global Justice agents entered in full riot gear, securing the area. "You couldn't hack the life anymore, so you pussied out and got out of it!"
"Wrong, Peregrine," the raven-haired vixen said, shaking her head slowly, "I left because I realized how big a mistake I'd made over the years.
"I was like you once; full of piss and vinegar, knew everything there was to know about everything and felt like I could take on the world all by myself. After the fights with my brothers and the allure of the glam life that crime promised me, there was no way I could say no.
"I have to admit I did have fun at first," she continued as Peregrine was hauled to her feet by a pair of Global Justice agents and handcuffed, "but as time went by, I realized there was still something missing in my life."
"You don't need a man, Shego; that's what God gave women fingers for," Peregrine quipped, "so don't tell me you gave up on it for that."
"Not even close," Kate replied with another shake of her head. "Tell me something, Peregrine; who do you consider a friend these days? When's the last time you saw any of your family for a Sunday dinner?"
"Phoenix is my family," she spat, "the cunt that gave birth to me and her sperm donor never gave a fuck about me."
"Okay, so maybe your family was a bit messed up," the former villainess acquiesced, "but what about friends? Somebody you can talk to about anything and everything; somebody you can lean on when things aren't going your way… do you have one of those?"
Peregrine glared at her one-time role model with contempt. "You've gone soft," she muttered.
"Maybe I have, but my life's that much happier because of it," Kate replied, nodding at the GJ agents to take the mercenary away. Turning to Kim, her expression softened into a relieved grin. "How're you doing, Kim?" she asked, genuine concern in her eyes and voice.
"Let's just say I've never been happier to hear your voice than I was a few minutes ago," the redhead replied, throwing an arm around Kate's shoulders.
"I'm just glad we got here in time," the raven-haired vixen said, reciprocating Kim's gesture.
"That makes two of us," Kim agreed, withdrawing from the half-hug. "Who's with you, by the way? I could've sworn I saw Ron standing there, but it must've been wishful thinking."
"Wrong, KP."
Kim spun around, her eyes almost protruding from her head. "Ron?" she exclaimed, the shock prevalent on her face when she laid eyes on her boyfriend. Running over to him, she jumped into his open arms and engulfed him in a hug. "What the hell are you doing here; why aren't you still in the hospital?" she asked, her voice somewhere between happy and miffed.
"Why does everybody keep asking me why I'm not still in the hospital when they should know the reason?" Ron griped in his usual, Ron-like way.
"Oh, I get it, now," Kim said as she pulled back and gazed into her boyfriend's eyes, "but why didn't you do it before?"
"Sensei told me it's like anything else; abuse it and it'll backfire on you," he replied, his own chocolate eyes locked on her emerald ones. "I was gonna let nature run its course, but I had a vision of you in trouble, so he helped me concentrate my mojo on fixing myself."
"Well, I'm glad he did," the teen heroine murmured tenderly, leaning in to claim his lips in a warm kiss, which he reciprocated; holding her body tightly against his.
"As much as I hate to break up this tender reunion," Kate interrupted loudly, bringing Kim and Ron back to the here-and-now, "we still have a job to do."
"She's right," Kim said with a hint of disappointment as she withdrew from Ron's comforting grasp, "we've got to go find the mastermind of this outfit and shut it down once and for all."
A/N: For those that might be wondering, Yori's phrase at the beginning of the chapter—"baka gaijin"—loosely translates to "idiot white boy;" obviously mildly cursing Ron out for bolting from the hospital before he's healed… at the time, of course, she doesn't realize he's using his Monkey Mojo to patch himself up.
It's getting close to the end now; Ron's healed up, Kim's out of her prison and Peregrine's on her way to prison, all that's left now is to find out who hired Phoenix to capture Kim in the first place… and shut Phoenix and its mastermind down once and for all.
Next chapter should tie up all of those loose ends—that's right, folks; we're just about at the tail end of the story. For the three people that might be upset by this, rest assured; just because the story's ending doesn't mean the arc's ending. I plan on doing more with this arc; some one-shots, a couple of short stories and, hopefully, another multi-chapter work like this one. I'm looking forward to starting these new stories and I hope you'll stick with me through them, as you have with this one.
As always, leave a review and get a response!
Cheers,
Deuce