Chapter 4

Shego stopped outside the nuclear containment facility and leaned against its concrete wall. "Not much of a military base without guards."

The chopper had dropped her off on a desert mesa not far to the north, but after an hour of scouting the perimeter, she hadn't seen a single scientist or soldier.

"I've got a bad feeling about this. Better get in there and get out quick."

She ignited the Goinium circuits in her arms and flared her plasma claws to life. She melted through the wall and stepped inside the facility. Immediately, the alarm sounded and the emergency lockdown began.

She breathed in the burning antiseptic air. "The thrill of the steal. Never gets old."

There were several racks lined with metal cases, all containing nuclear fuel rods of one sort or another. Shego found the case labeled "Tritium" and threw it open. She was amazed to find that it held at least twelve rods.

Are these things really that rare? And he only needed one?

She decided to save the questions for later and grabbed a rod. She ran to the exit—the melted gap in the wall—but quickly flipped through the air as a volley of gunfire rang out. She disintegrated some of the bullets in mid-air with a spread shot of plasma bolts, but three found their mark and pierced her abdomen.

"Ugh!" Her face contorted as she gripped her stomach with both hands, letting the fuel rod clink hollowly against the metal floor. "What the hell? Who would shoot a gun in a place like this?"

She followed the bullets' trajectory and saw ten of Dementor's gray-clad goons perched in the scaffolding above. They all had good cover, so there was no way she could fight them head on.

"That bastard set me up!" Shego grunted as she dove behind a stack of Uranium drums.

As she anticipated, the gunfire ceased. They weren't going to risk hitting a drum and causing a radiation leak.

Shego stared down at her gloves that were dyed red. "Damn, that's a lot of blood. . . ."

She reached for one of the canisters on he r Cell Rejuvenation Belt but stopped when she heard the assassins closing in on her. They were quick and silent—nothing like their boss.

They're maneuvering around me to get a clear shot and draw me out into the open. If I don't think of something quick, I'm done for.

She thought hard, but only one option presented itself: spray the hazardous materials with her plasma and hope to cause a big enough explosion to cover her escape. She noticed a section of fuel rods labeled "VOLATILE" and shot a ray of plasma in their direction. A nuclear blast resounded, causing a chain reaction throughout the facility.

"Well, that was dumb."

She charged across the room and dove through the gap, but just as she escaped, the entire building erupted in a red-hot fireball, launching Shego several meters across the desert. She skid over the sands, rolling with her momentum until she finally crashed into a large rock formation.

"Let's not . . . do that . . . again."

She raised herself up onto her knees and leaned against the giant rock. Her entire body burned and every breath brought with it excruciating pain. Her vision blurred and she could feel her body growing weaker.

She reached down to her belt and fumbled with one of the canisters.

If I don't inject this stuff quick, I'll pass out from the pain and bleed to death.

She screwed the lid off the canister and pulled out three syringes of blue liquid.

What did Drakken say about the recommended dose? Was it one syringe or one canister?

She didn't have time to hesitate. Her consciousness was already slipping. With a grunt she injected all three syringes into her abdomen and a fluid warmth rushed through her body like lava. She clutched her stomach and breathed rapidly as her heart raced to life. Slowly, the three bullets were forced out of her wounds as the serum regenerated her muscle and skin. She felt some of her ribs set back into place as well as some bones in her right leg and pelvis. It was a torturous, intrusive feeling—like molten iron flowing underneath her skin, filling in the fractures, and hardening to restore her frame.

Shego laid in the sand, breathing rapidly as she waited for her body to cool off. "It worked. . . . Drakken . . . He saved my life, didn't he?" Hot tears streamed down her face. "I abandoned him and he saved me."

Shut off the waterworks, Shego. Dementor could have more goons in the area.

She rose slowly, supporting herself against the rock. Her head was still swooning, but at least the pain was drawing back. She took a few cautious steps and then broke into a sprint but promptly tripped over something submerged in the sand.

"Was that really necessary?" she groaned, ripping the object out of the ground.

She was shocked to find it was a fuel rod, completely intact, though whether it contained Tritium she knew not. It didn't matter. Dementor had long lost the right to be picky.

Shego looked out over the smoldering remains of the containment facility. It was so bright she had to shield her eyes and the heat hazed her body even though the blast had flung her a mile away. Several sections of the desert had instantly turned to glass. Shego marveled at the broiling tempest surrounded by crystal dunes. It was a strange phenomenon, almost beautiful. Though it was a violent scene, Shego could not help but feel a sense of peace in her solitude. Much like the cove on Drakken's island, this sublime vista was hers alone. Of course, it couldn't stay that way.

I've gotta get out of here before the military or any reporters show up.

Shego ran across the desert with no particular plan. She just wanted to keep running—to run all the way back to Drakken and beg his forgiveness. Suddenly, two black choppers flew by overhead. She dove to the ground, but they didn't seem to notice her. She assumed they were Dementor's men, fleeing the crime scene just like her. She decided to follow them back to the lair.

"Dementor better have my check ready."


Shego threw open the door and stormed into the timeshare lair. Professor Dementor jumped out of his seat, spilling hot cocoa all over his nightgown.

"Shego!" he shouted, reaching for the alarm switch.

She zapped his hand with a bolt of plasma.

"Ow!" He blew on his hand pitifully. "How? How did you survive? My men said they left the compound a hellscape! The radiation alone should have torn you apart!"

"I told you I wouldn't go down easy."

"No! This was not how the plan was supposed to go at all! You were supposed to die so I could watch Drakken cry like a whimpering schoolboy, and zen your Louis Vuitton suitcase would have been all mine!"

Shego clenched her fists and they roared with crackling plasma. "You wanted to make Drakken cry?!"

"Well, yes. I'm not very fond of him, as you know. He makes a mockery out of us real villains."

Shego grabbed both ends of the fuel rod and started melting it with her plasma.

"Are you insane?! Don't melt ze fuel rod. You will kill us both! Just put the rod on ze ground and we can both get out of zis alive."

Shego wanted to tell him all the various other places she'd like to put the fuel rod, but she held her tongue. She wasn't exactly in a joking mood.

"You're not the most observant professor, are you? It only took Drakken a week to figure out that the Goinium in my body protects me from radiation damage."

Dementor flailed his arms in the air. "What? Are you some comic book anti-hero now? Has the world gone mad?!"

Shego melted the rod, letting its powdery contents spill on the floor.

"Oh, look! Now you've contaminated ze timeshare lair. Do you have any idea how much hazmat specialists charge by ze hour? I might as well build a new one!" He paused "Actually, zat's not a bad idea."

Dementor flipped the lair's self-destruct switch and activated his jetpack. "Farewell, Frӓulein Shego! One day, your fancy suitcase will be mine!"

Laughing maniacally, he flew out the window but made certain to grab his cup of cocoa on the way out. Likewise, Shego bolted up the stairs and smashed through the door into her room. She grabbed her suitcase and blew a hole in the wall. Just as she made the jump, the lair exploded. Shego landed in the pool, followed by large chunks of the outer wall which she nimbly evaded.

She climbed out of the pool, gasping for breath and threw her suitcase on the ground. "I need a shower and a warm bed."

The timeshare lair was on an isolated mountain, and she knew there was a small town at the base of it—a town that should have a motel. Of course, her uniform was irradiated and riddled with bullet holes, so she would have to change. She clenched her teeth and tore it off, as parts of it had melted onto her skin. To her amazement, the patches of skin it tore off were quickly replaced.

Looks like Drakken's stims haven't worn off. I hope it's supposed to do that.

She changed into her pencil skirt and blue sweater since it was the most inconspicuous outfit she had. "Alright. Time to find a place to crash."


Shego threw herself onto a rickety old bed and dust shot out around her. She had checked in to the most run-down motel in town, which was fine with her. She was used to laying low after a heist.

Her head was still swimming. In fact, it hadn't stopped ever since she had taken the stims. Her body was screaming for rest, but she desperately needed a shower. There was no telling what sort of chemicals still clung to her.

She pushed herself up off the bed and sighed. "I don't think I've ever felt so dirty in my life."

The shower was quite filthy, but she was about to make it even worse once she washed off all the contaminants on her skin. She spent half an hour scrubbing her body but the strange feeling in her head never left. She rested a moment and let the water beat against her back. She ran her fingers across her stomach, tracing three small circles where the bullets had been lodged just a few hours previous.

"Drakken really did save my life. . . . I'll never be able to repay him."

She felt tears dripping off the corners of her eyes.

"What? Why am I crying?"

Her body started trembling and the tears rushed out even harder.

"Wait. Wha-what's going on? Why can't I stop?"

She turned off the water and threw on her bathrobe. Almost against her will, she stumbled over to the bed and knelt at its edge with her face in her arms.

"Oh ho-ho-ho! Uwa ha-ha! Wh-why am I bawling like a little girl? I-I can't stop."

It was as though all the pressure from the past few days was finally sinking in.

"Drakken . . . He saved an evil, selfish girl like me. Why did I abandon him? I should've supported him like always, but he was asking for so much."

Indeed, giving up on evil meant having to become an entirely new person. She would have to get out in a world she didn't consider her own and cooperate with people who would try to take advantage of her. It was scary, but the idea of eternal solitude was even scarier.

Shego stood up and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I can't keep living like this—like I'm the only person in the world. Not when there are people like Drakken who care so much about me."

She threw herself on the bed and sighed. "He'll forgive me, right? Of course he will, he's Drakken. But I can't sound too desperate. It'll make me look . . ."

Weak

Shego had constructed her entire identity around strength and intimidation. To admit weakness was to admit her life was a lie, but was it not weakness to rely on Drakken when she was inches away from death? No, she had to ignore that, but how? In that moment, Drakken's compassion had been revealed but so had her weakness. She wanted only the former to be true, but that was impossible. After all, people only give compassion to those who need it.

Shego grabbed her hair with both hands and grimaced. "Ugh! This pleading for forgiveness thing just isn't my style." She shrugged. "It's not like I need to. He'll be the one pleading—pleading for me to come back."

Shego jerked the covers over herself and stared up at the ceiling. For half an hour, she lay awake, contemplating her narrow escape. It frightened her to think that her life had hung on the edge of a knife. She had always thought herself so powerful—invincible even—but now she realized that even she could be killed, and in seeing her vulnerability she saw the vulnerability of those closest to her.

What if Dementor goes after Drakken while I'm gone?

Shego shot up from her bed, grabbed her suitcase and burst out of her room and onto the street. Luckily, there was a bus stop where she could catch a ride to the airport. She sat down on a bench, letting the soft rain douse her hair.

It was torture. Every muscle in her body tensed up at the thought of Drakken's peril, yet she had to wait in the rain for a bus like a dreary office commuter. She tried calling him with shaking fingers and her heart chilled with each passing ring.

He never answered and Shego nearly crushed the cell phone in her taloned grasp. "Dammit, Drakken! If you die, I'll never forgive you!"

Her mind was a storm of rage and anxiety, but the coming headlights over the distant hill pierced through the sheets of mist and illuminated her lonesome figure, casting a light of clarity and shame.