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Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit fan work. Kim Possible and all associated characters are the property of Walt Disney and Buena Vista Television.
Chapter 9: Sectioned
LOCATION: Global Justice Headquarters. Psychiatric Department.
TIME: 1 week after the Moscow Operation.
"So, Agent Phoenix, let's go over this again from the top."
Kim Possible - Agent Phoenix for the Global Justice organization - sat in a wheelchair across from the uptight therapist who was at best in his late twenties if not younger sewn into a tacky brown suit. Her cybertronic limbs were removed leaving stumps with the exposed connectors to her torso augmentations. Her face was covered in cuts and bruises that did nothing to distract from the angry scowl that was engraved into her visage.
"After I shot Doctor Drakken-"
The therapist raised his pen from his clipboard and pointed the tip at Kim, "An unknown W.E.E. teched doctor you claim was Doctor Drakken."
Kim growled, "I pursued Kosch onto the Ultimate Diablo which was being airlifted out contrary to our intelligence that stated it was an underground train. It was there that he revealed that under his mask it was in fact Ron Stoppable."
The therapist stopped scribbling with his pen, "Have you noticed that all of your hallucinations have connections to your previous life as a vigilante?"
Kim slammed her hand on the arm of her wheelchair, "They are NOT hallucinations."
"You don't think so? In one day, during which your squadmates reported that you were under extreme duress, you witnessed your best friend and worst enemy - both of which were confirmed dead by incineration."
Kim's nails dug into the cushioning of the wheelchair arm, "They never found any bodies."
The therapist shrugged and responded in an almost sing-song tone that infuriated Kim, "Well, that's what happens with incineration. Kim, I honestly think that you are just over-stressed. It's not anything to be ashamed of. Lots of agents deal with it and they don't have half the responsibilities that you do. Not to mention your diagnosed history with PTSD that I notice you have never come to this clinic about."
"What about DataByte? That little asshole should be able to say something," Kim stated between gritted teeth.
A smile appeared on the therapist's mouth that he quickly tried to hide with his clipboard, "Ah yes. The literal voice in your head that no one else has heard and that is such an expert hacker that it left no trace in your software. We've read Agent T.N.T. and Agent Trapdoor have turned in extensive reports about your delusional late night ramblings."
"DO NOT FUCKING CHUCKLE, YOU ASSHOLE!" Kim raged as she reached out to swing at the man on the couch. Two guards immediately entered and restrained Kim and the therapist stood up with a syringe and gently pushed it into Kim's neck.
"I'm sorry, Miss Possible. But I have to agree with the Director's decision that you are not combat ready. This psychological cocktail should help keep you calm while you recover and then I will discuss with Doctor Director an ongoing medication regimen while you work around the base."
Kim's vision began to get blurry as she struggled to keep her head up straight. Just as she started to pass out, she could hear the therapist: "I wouldn't count on seeing the outside for a while though."
LOCATION: Global Justice Headquarters.
TIME: Unknown.
Kim stared at the floor as she pushed a broom around the cold corridor of the subterranean base. It had been some time but they started letting her use her arm and leg again albeit with a severely restricted set of functionality. She could walk, and she could hold things, and it seemed as far as Global Justice was concerned - that's what she was good for.
She couldn't even tell how long she had been doing this day-in-day-out tedious routine. Cleaning toilets, mopping the cafeteria, maybe even letting her tidy up the rec room so she could catch a few minutes of a movie here and there. It had to have been a few weeks? Maybe months? It was so hard to tell. She was stuck underground, and with her HUD deactivated she had no way of orienting herself. Worse yet was the fact that even if she tried to remember to check the next calendar or clock she saw, she couldn't focus long enough to keep the thought in her head.
The medications worked well. She hadn't hallucinated since the Moscow Op.
Every now and then she saw Task Force 10 wandering the halls. She saw these sad eyes on Agent T.N.T.'s face and they made Kim angry. She couldn't remember why they made her angry but that burning feeling was still there. The coals wouldn't grow cold and Kim didn't know why.
"Agent Phoenix, do you have a moment?" a voice of authority spoke. Kim's vision blurred from her quick head movement to follow the voice but she could still make out the eyepatch.
"Yes, Bet- I mean, Director, ma'am. What is it that I can do fer you?" Kim tried to stand at attention but still needed to lean on her broom to stabilize herself, "Can I return to active duty?"
"No, Agent. We are still cleaning up the mess you made in Moscow. But the toilet paper in the executive bathroom needs to be replaced and the trash needs emptied. It hasn't been done in over a week, Agent."
Kim let out an exasperated exhale to hide the small sob that escaped from her throat, "Sorry, ma'am. It's a big base. I'm sure one of the other janitorial…"
Doctor Director's voice turned cold, "Oh I'm sorry, Kim. Were you not told? We had to let our janitorial team go for budgetary reasons. Mechanization and all that." With that, the Director of Global Justice continued down the hallway.
Kim let a maniacal cackle crack out of her mouth followed by a bellowing snort, "Mechanization. Good one, Ma'am. Good one."
LOCATION: Global Justice Barracks.
TIME: Start of Curfew.
Kim laid flat in her sleeper pod. She stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity. Had it been an eternity? She wasn't sure. Everything had been so hazy lately - especially since she had been stuck in the Global Justice base located… To be honest she was never 100 percent sure where it was located but it was underground somewhere. Underwater maybe? You couldn't see the sun regardless.
There was still talking in the quarters of Unit 10. That could only mean it was late, but not light's out late. Maybe 2100 hours? That would be right. She wanted to turn and see who was talking but most of her motor functions were disabled during her body's charging phase. It wasn't always like that but the Global Justice scientists said it was for the best to protect her and everyone else.
"All I am saying is that it seems to be pretty messed up giving everything that has gone down," a female voice said. Kim had a hard time making out everything they were saying but she was pretty sure it was Tint.
Next came a male voice. It was nasally and higher pitched but muted like it was being spoken from behind a mask. It would have to be Trapdoor. Three-Eyes' voice was far deeper, "It would be a waste of a resource. Everything points to the problem being user-based. The Sci Division says the technology is perfectly stable."
"User-based. User, Trap?" Tint said in a frustrated but small shout before she dove into a deep whisper, "She's right there."
There was a short pause and some shuffling of feet before Trapdoor spoke again, "She's charging. Between that and her psychological medications, the chance of her being coherent enough to understand and remember this conversation is next to none."
"Sucks they've doped'er up like that."
"We agreed when we filed our reports to the Director that she was acting unstable and would be a risk to the current operating team."
"Yea, but there's a difference between 'She needs therapy' and 'Turn her into a drug zombie' ya know?"
"Her being a - as you put it - 'Drug Zombie' is the only reason that she is deemed safe enough to wander the base. The alternative is solitary confinement."
/Ki.. P...ib.../
Another voice. This one was strange. It wasn't outside her pod. It wasn't even inside her pod. It was like it was in her head.
"I suppose this is the least worst option," Tint said with a sad tone in her voice.
/..im...os...ble...an...hea...m...?/
The third voice was louder and full of static. Trying to understand the words made Kim's head hurt. Kim scrunched her brow and tried to block out the voice like her therapist taught her to. It wasn't real. It was just some of the delusions reasserting themselves.
"Alright you two. Lights out. We're all due in surgery first thing tomorrow."
Tint let out a loud exaggerated sigh, "Yes sir, Mister Two Eyes, sir."
"That's Captain Three Eyes, Agent Clarity," Three-Eyes boomed in a serious tone.
When had Three-Eyes shown up?, Kim wondered. Sometime during her internal battle with the voice probably. Did they say surgery?
/...m...possib...we...eed...elp.../
"Go away stupid voice…" Kim muttered in a half drugged, half asleep murmur.
"It appears she's having an episode. I'll increase the sedatives on her charging station," Trapdoor said.
Wait… What did he just say?
/..ommuni...tion...brea...ing...im...we...eed...yo.../
Kim grit her teeth trying to tell the voice to stop, try to tell Trapdoor to stop, or just try to do anything at all. But it was too late as Kim drifted off to sleep once more in a pharmaceutically assisted daze.
LOCATION: Global Justice Headquarters, Commissary
TIME: Dinner, the Next Day
Kim sat in her wheelchair in the corner of the crowded commissary. She was off duty for the time being and thus her cybertronic limbs were detached and locked up until she went back on duty later that evening.
She used her one available hand to eat her strange combination of veggies and mashed potatoes under a thick gray gravy. It was better than the mystery slime that they'd dish out back in high school but it was nowhere near Bueno Nacho much less Ron's cooking.
However as soon as she even thought his name, Kim felt an immense stabbing sensation in her spine before her mind completely emptied of any thought. She dropped her spoon onto the plate as a small trail of drool rolled down her chin. The room spun for a few minutes before the sound of raucous cheers roused her from her stupor.
Kim lifted her gaze upwards to the doorway where a very different looking Tint, Trapdoor and Three-Eyes stood. Their bodies looked slick and shiny. Parts of them were pearl white and accented with sparkling chrome. Kim's cloudy mind was slow but even she could put together what was happening as her eyes shifted from looking at her former teammates down to the exposed connectors from her disconnected limbs.
Tears fell on her commissary tray. Kim wanted to be angry. She wanted to be furious. However the drugs in her system muted any such emotional outrage. All she could do was wallow.
Across the large dining room, the mood was the complete opposite. Gawking, cheering and barely contained excitement permeated the air as the rookie agents ogled the shiny new cybertronically enhanced agents, "Does it have built in weaponry like Phoenix?"
Three-Eyes grinned and flexed one arm which caused a small cannon to emerge from his shoulder, "All that and more."
Another more timid voice rang out from a female agent, "So are you like Kosch the Killer now?"
Agent Trapdoor offered a chuckle in reply, "No. Unlike those brutish monsters in the No Man's Land, we are equipped with the early beta version of PATCH 2.0. The version HenchCo has been working on to counter any unfortunate eventuality of the fallout of the Moscow mission. We are top-of-the-line!"
This response was also met with a wave of cheers. On the other hand, Agent Clarity - known to her friends simply as Tint - was silent. She looked out at the now largely vacant commissary and saw her former teammate crying. Normally she wouldn't be able to see that. Despite her codename, her vision wasn't so great before the surgery, but now she could scan every detail in the room with her nanite-enhanced vision. She could see every tear drop. What she couldn't see was if she was right about betraying Kim. Whether or not Kim truly needed this level of "care." She could only hope, and believe that she did what was best for Kim.
LOCATION: Global Justice Barracks
TIME: Start of Curfew
It was strange. For so long Kim had been accustomed to her sleeping pod being an unique feature of the dorm. It was a gift that her father had made for her, along with her limbs, so that she might be able to continue to pursue her dreams. Now she had to examine the small plates welded on to the four identical copies of her gift to figure out which one she was supposed to sleep in.
The irony wasn't entirely lost on Kim. In order to join Global Justice, Kim needed to become a machine and just like any other machine her design was iterated and improved upon before she was just replaced. She was just another machine. Just like all the techs. Just like Ron.
Kim winced again at the name as her neural implants began to dispense their mind fuzzy-ing juices. Ron. Was he just a machine? Just a monster? When they fought - and she still had trouble wrapping her head around that thought alone - he had called her KP. That was HIS nickname for her. That means HE was still in that metal shell somewhere. Underneath it all, it was still Ron. That means that there had-
/Kim… Ossible… An… You… ar… m…?/
Kim gritted her teeth as the static filled message pierced through her senses like nails on a chalkboard. What was it? Kim jammed her head back onto her recharging bed attempting to force the chemicals she had just a moment ago cursed to pour forth and dull this awful pain in her skull.
/...IM...SIBLE...AR...M...?/
Fading, slowly fading. The screeching pain of the static dissipated as the drugs started flowing through her mind. Her thinking grew fuzzier. She couldn't remember anything more than… maybe the start of her sentence? She thinks? It didn't matter anyway. What mattered was the pain was finally subsiding. Kim drifted off to sleep.
Location: Global Justice Operations Center
Time: Later
Kim hobbled her way through the back of the massive operations room. Though she was entitled to the use of her cybertronic limbs during work hours, the scientists had severally neutralized much of their functionality. It would seem that in their inexperience with Dr. James Possible's work, they may have disabled some of her motor function and just shrugged it off and decided that Kim didn't need complete functionality of her limbs to begin with for her basic tasks like collecting garbage from the operations center.
Rows of computers, monitors, and personnel shouting and running back and forth. The big monitors at the front of the room were lit up with camera footage and maps. There were sounds of yelling and people rushing back and forth between the stations. Kim put her back to the wall and shuffled around the chaos to grab trash can after trash can from below the desks crowded with maps, spreadsheets and graphs.
A man slammed into Kim sending her to the floor and the trash all across the floor. She sat down and started picking it up when she finally got a glimpse at what was on the screen: an operation in the ENML. The HUDs up on some of the monitors looked like the one that Kim's own eye used to render in the field. Going by some of the names she was seeing, it looked like Task Teams 9 and 10 were on the operation. Task Team 9 was another team of extraordinarily talented individuals utilized in special ops. They were also familiar faces to Kim, the team being the former 'Team Impossible' that Kim had butted heads with back in high school after she had accidentally (and brutally) ruined their hero business.
"Wheels. We need confirmation. Do you have eyes on the target?" one of the Global Justice technicians shouted into a headset.
The response came blaring from the speakers mounted on the wall, "He's moving too fast! Can't keep up! It's like he's teleporting like a damn demon." Kim recognized the voice as Crash Cranston or 'Agent Wheels' from Team Impossible.
But what was the demon? It couldn't be. No, there were a lot of crazy Techs out there. Right? Kim shook her head and got back to grabbing trash from the floor. It wasn't any of her business right? She was the janitor now. Not an agent. An agent would be out there on the field and taking down-
"KOSCH! WE HAVE EYES ON THE KILLER! HE'S HIDING IN THAT BUILDING!" the voice of Agent Three-Eyes rang out across the command center.
Kim dropped the piece of trash she was holding. Her eye twitched slightly as she looked up at the screens.
The command staff were busy typing away at their computers attempting to bring up schematics of the bombed out building that the agents had identified. One operator activated their headset before speaking in a loud and clear voice, "Confirmed. Team 10 please stand by to intercept if the target attempts escape. Team 9, you are on infiltration. Orders are to eliminate on sight. Take no chances. Heavy armament and S-Class Equipment authorization granted for all field teams."
Kim's mind raced in panic. It was Kosch. That means it was Ron. The sting in her neck let her know that the name had triggered another injection but Kim tried her best to push through. S-Class… That was black ops level stuff. Stuff like Smart-Nukes that would drop a concentrated nuclear level explosion that could level a city block. They weren't - Kim's vision blurred and her head bobbed for a second - they weren't messing around.
Kim's breathing grew ragged as the sedative fought with her rising adrenaline. Ron was still in there. They couldn't just - ya know - kill him. If they could be helped - if HE could be helped - then they should focus on that. Not elimination. This. Was. WRONG.
She stood up and stumbled slightly as the narcotics wiggled their way through her nervous systems, "Stop the mission! Ron's there! Still in there. That's what I meant. Ron is still in there!"
There was a moment of silence from the command center as all eyes slowly glanced back at the drugged up decommissioned cyborg at the back of the room. The female operator with the headset from before raised a single eyebrow, "Who?"
Kim growled, "Ron Stoppable! Kosch is Ron Stopuhable-stopuhball-stop… stop…" with each utterance of the name, the injections came quicker and quicker. Kim's mind slowed like molasses.
Her slowly deteriorated speech slowed by a voice from the field blaring from the speakers. It was Dash DaMont, also called "Agent Blade" and another former member of Team Impossible, "We have located the target. He has a small Teched child with him. Possibly a hostage. Explosive high penetration rounds loaded. Hostage likely in range. Permission to take the shot?"
Kim could still register that. They wanted to kill Ron. Not acceptable. There was a child there though. They wouldn't just-
There was a murmur from another operative in the room, "Hostage? It's just another Tech."
Kim grit her teeth, her rage slashing through the drugs with the unyielding fervor of a hot knife through butter: Double not acceptable.
Turning away from Kim, the female operator touches the side of her headset to open a channel, "Take the-"
"NO!" Kim screamed at the top of her lungs. The sound scratching the interior of her throat to the point of hoarseness. The young cyborg woman raised her cybertronic arm knowing full well it had been deactivated weeks - months? - prior and gripped her fingers like she was using the cannon functionality. She knew it was futile, but the rage and the drugs didn't care. Kim Possible was pissed.
The room was filled with panic as that arm raised. Operators and agents stumbled over chairs attempting to get away from Kim. One pressed the alarm button that shifted all the lights to red and sent the word to security forces. But after a brief moment of nothing happening a single chuckle echoed out in the void of silence that filled the command center.
Then it happened.
Kim's arm sprang to life. The cannon formed from the cybertronic nanomachines out of her forearm. Kim's eyes were wide, her pupils contracted in a fiery rage, and her teeth were clenched tight and bared for the world to see her wrath. There wasn't a second to spare between when the cannon finished forming and when the entire operating room was engulfed in a shocking white light.
By the time the security forces arrived at the command center exactly 23 seconds later, Kim Possible was the only living thing in it. The computers and monitors were all destroyed, the wall had a massive hole in it giving way to rock. Kim looked at the hole, then at the newly arrived security forces, and then back at the hole before giving an audible gulp, "I guess we are underground."
LOCATION: Upper Isolation Unit, Global Justice HQ
TIME: 1 Hour Later
"What I want to know is HOW it happened. We had deactivated all of those systems. You assured me that her weapons systems were completely offline!" Doctor Director shouted at an array of scientists that stood outside the solitary confinement chamber the security team had thrown Kim in. They had traveled through a number of long corridors, elevators and about a dozen checkpoints to reach this point, so Kim could only assume they were very high up elevation wise compared to the depths that contained the rest of the base.
The room was about 10x10 with a toilet, a sink, and a corner with a cushioned floor to serve as a bed, which was useful since they re-confiscated her limbs so all she could do was crawl around the cell. Kim could spot at least two cameras. Probably more. No windows but judging by the fact that Doctor Director - Betty - could be heard loud and clear, the sound-proofing was awful.
"They were, ma'am. We tested them thoroughly. All non-vital systems were fully deactivated. Outside of breathing, bodily function, and movement the nanomachines should not have had any authorization to do… well anything else." one of the scientists squeaked out before Kim heard Betty give an audible growl, "But we are working with an artificial intelligence network designed by two of the smartest people on the planet. It's not entirely impossible that there are designs we don't know about. If we could just bring Dr. Possible in so we could interrogate him."
"Do you know how big of a can of worms that would be, Speagleman? He was willing to delete a billion dollar 3-year-long project from the record to avoid the risk of it being stolen. What do you think his reaction will be when he finds out we have his daughter locked in a box and we reverse-engineered his technology to outfit our own agents?"
Kim sat with her back leaning against the wall as she bobbed her head back and forth in a nodding gesture to agree with the Director. Her father would not be happy to find all that. Discredited or not, you don't want a rocket scientist on your bad side. Kim looked over at the stump of connectors where her arm was - why did it suddenly work?
"I want her on 24-hour watch. When the limbs are not in the lab, they will be kept under lock and key in the vault. I need to know if she is still a threat. I need to know that we can trust this technology in our other agents. Once we have a solution, we might be able to apply it to PATCH 2.0 to help turn the tide in our favor. Am I understood?"
The group of scientists gave a resounding "YES MA'AM!" Before hustling off back to the labs.
A moment after the last scientist left, Kim heard Betty's voice once more, "Kim. I want you to know while you stew in there, we lost Team 9 to Kosch because of your little stunt. Some of the finest agents we have ever had and now they are dead because you wanted to have a hissy fit. Think on that, Kimberly."
With that there was only silence, hours and hours of silence. Kim assumed there was a guard somewhere out there but they weren't making a peep if they were nearby. Kim disliked the silence. It always felt so unnatural. She grew up with two loud genius brothers, a scientist father and a caring brain surgeon mother - home was never quiet unless something had gone horribly wrong. Back in high school she had Monique and the cheer team to disrupt the quiet. And, of course, Ron.
Kim paused for a moment waiting for the inevitable injection of mind altering substances to subdue her from thinking about her partner but it never came. Maybe it got shut off along with everything else when they subdued her. Maybe it was to ensure the drugs weren't what let her use the cannon. Either way, Kim took it as a blessing. She could think straight and she could think about Ron.
Ron was always there for her. Ever since Pre-K when they first met. It seemed that their destiny was always that of hero and sidekick. Even when Ron proved he could play the hero game just as well (and in some cases, Kim resigned, better) he happily volunteered to be a sidekick. Now, it was the opposite of that. He was her enemy.
Kim pondered that for some time. An enemy. But it wasn't the first time that had happened, right? There was the Zorpox incident. Twice if you include that moment with Team Go. There were definitely similarities between the two. Zorpox had been self-assured and terrifyingly efficient but much of it was lost in the flare for the theatrical that was supervillainy. Kosch reminded Kim more of the brutal stripped down version of Zorpox. No flare, just the drive to destroy. Like destroying Team 9.
Kim frowned as the tears welled up in her eyes. She didn't want ANYONE to die. Not Ron, not Team 9, and not that little kid. There had to be a way to help that didn't involve killing anyone - Kim's heart sank - or killing anyone else. In all the drugged up physical labor she had done since the Moscow mission it wasn't until now that she could finally think about what happened there.
She killed someone.
Kim Possible killed someone.
Not just anyone though - Doctor Drakken himself or whatever he had become at that point. He was a Tech at that point but that didn't make him less human. They treated Techs like monsters, but they are just people suffering. Ron is just suffering.
Kim wiped away her tears. How long had she been lost in thought? She was tired now. She knew that. She crawled over to the cushioned area and laid her head down. The world needs help, she thought, and she didn't think what Global Justice was doing was helping. She closed her eyes to rest.
/-IM POSSIBLE CAN YOU HEAR US?/
Kim's eyes leapt back open. That voice. That was her internal communication system. How? What? Is that?
[THIS IS THE LEAST AMOUNT OF PUSHBACK WE'VE HAD. IF THIS DOESN'T REACH I DUNNO WHAT WILL.]
Kim jolted with her good arm into an upright position. Wade?
/Kim Possible if you can hear us please respond./
Was that DataByte? What was going on? Was solitary confinement breaking her?
[This is Kim.]
[OH THANK GOD. WE FINALLY BROKE THROUGH.]
[What's going on?]
/Much has been happening, Kim Possible. We need your help. But first we're going to have to get you out of there./
Kim smiled. It started as a soft smile, the kind she always gave people to let them know it was going to be alright, but then it quickly grew into something more devious. A grin that would be better suited on the face of Ron Stoppable.
[Alright. I'm in. What's the sitch?]
Next: Freedom