Chapter Seven - Questions and Answers
Kim froze for a moment, unsure of what to say. Everything had changed so quickly since she awoke only minutes earlier, that she needed a moment of calm to plan her next move. While going to Number 10 with Hackney was tempting, she could sense it probably wasn't the best use of her time. Talking to Shego could probably tell them more about the situation than any intergovernmental reports could, especially since none of the governments even knew who they were dealing with yet. Shego, on the other hand, had firsthand experience with villains all day long and so could give them a pretty good idea as to what they were up against. But that was only if she felt like telling the truth, and if she was clearheaded enough to know what the truth was with all the painkillers she was on.
"How long has she been up?" Kim finally asked the doctor. She knew from experience that the first few minutes after you wake up from anything involving the use of sedatives aren't the most lucid of moments.
"About ten minutes - but she's already able to speak coherently," Chung replied. "She seems to have a pretty good idea of where she is and how she got here, so we can rule out any short-term amnesia. I and other doctors believe she is both ready and willing for questioning now."
"Then we're staying," decided Kim. "You go on ahead without us Mr. Hackney. If you need our input on anything, just call Wade - he'll patch you through to the Kimmunicator."
"Very well Ms. Possible," Hackney agreed without protest, knowing Shego's questioning was of the utmost importance. "Good luck."
"You too," said Kim, and then turned back to Chung. "Lead on."
They retraced their steps along the hallway to Shego's door, which was now blocked by a group of heavily armed men. The number of guards had tripled outside the door, now that the prisoner was awake. What was once two bored looking policemen with nightsticks and radios had now become a half dozen army soldiers toting assault rifles and equally unforgiving expressions. Two stood at either end of the corridor, carefully surveying all who passed while their comrades stood motionless in front of room 6B. All six watched each passer-by like he or she were packing an Uzi, and received more odd looks in the process than a nudist in Piccadilly Circus on a Saturday morning. But as Chung approached, the men nodded in acknowledgement and stepped aside to allow him to pass. The doctor motioned Kim and Ron inside, before turning to the soldiers:
"Thanks boys," he said, nodding to them in appreciation. "Lock the door behind them."
They did as they were told, leaving the Kim, Ron and a young nurse alone in the room. Soundproofed walls and doors meant that all Kim could hear was the methodical beeping and whirring of the various life-support machines sitting around the bed in the center of the room. To one side was a small window, which looked out of the dull chamber onto an equally gloomy courtyard and parking lot. The nurse sat at her station in front of it, filling out paperwork and glancing up every few seconds at the readouts on the various machines to make sure everything was as it should be. On the other side of the bed, a pair of chairs sat empty, where Kim suspected they were supposed to sit for the interrogation. Someone had set up a camera on a tripod to document the entire ordeal for later review, which sat at the end of the bed, aimed at Shego's face.
The woman lay covered in a set of sheets for warmth, and probably for decency too since Kim guessed she was still naked underneath. If the doctors needed to get back in and resume surgery quickly, they probably didn't want to waste time trying to disrobe their patient. Sets of cables trailed out from underneath the white polyester bedspread to the computers and monitors arranged around the head of the bed, and Kim could see at least one IV tube attached to Shego's wrist. While lying flat on the bed, Shego's head and shoulders had been propped up just enough to give her an unobstructed view of the room. Without moving her head, she could see the nurse, camera and those questioning her all at once. Though very much awake and alive, Shego was still wounded badly, meaning she could do little more that talk and turn her head slightly to face Kim and Ron as they entered the room.
"Hey Kimmie, having a nice time?" Shego croaked as they sat down, chuckling at her own joke. "I sure ain't."
"Looks like it," Kim agreed, trying to keep the atmosphere as friendly as possible. If Shego felt threatened, she might decide to keep all her information about Grim to herself. "I heard you wanted to speak to me."
"Yeah, I do."
"About what?"
"About what I need to do to get out of this dump," Shego answered, motioning with her head around the room.
"Get better, and then spend the rest of your life in jail," Kim said coldly, remembering Shego's taunting words from the night before.
"I don't think it's gonna work like that," the other woman predicted smugly.
"And why not?" Kim asked, interested.
"Because I know you need my help, and you'll do whatever it takes to get it," replied Shego cockily.
"Don't think so, sorry," said Kim flatly.
"Why not?"
"Because after you see this, I think you'll feel very helpful all of a sudden," Kim said, and switched on the television.
She let the BBC run for a few minutes, watching Shego's nonplussed expression at the sight of people being carried away from the bomb site in body bags. Then she pulled a copy of the fax out of her pocket and proceeded to read the entire thing out loud. This time she got a response, especially from the words 'Mr. Grim', at which point Shego's pupils flared to the size of dinner plates. Kim had no idea how she had known the fax would get a rise out of Shego, she had only done it as a test - to see how much the woman knew. Somehow it had worked though - something about Grim had tripped in Shego's mind, and all of a sudden she looked very willing to talk.
"Feel like answering a few questions now?" Kim asked, now the smug one.
"Not unless you guarantee two things," Shego demanded.
"I'm not in a position to do that."
"Then get someone who is - otherwise you get nothing, nadda. Zilch."
"What are the guarantees?" inquired Kim, hoping they weren't too outrageous - they really did need Shego's help.
"I thought you couldn't help me?" the woman mocked her.
"Tell me what they are, and I'll think about it," promised Kim.
"I need something better than that," Shego insisted.
"Fine - if you help us, we'll guarantee whatever it is you want," Kim acquiesced.
"Much better," pronounced Shego, a smile flickering across her face. "I want to promise that neither Drakken nor I will be arrested or harmed in any way after all this mess is over."
"Sure - if you promise to help us," countered Kim. "Not feed us fake information like this Mr. Grim tells you to."
"You think I'm working for that weirdo - you gotta be kidding me!" Shego exclaimed, insulted.
"So you know this person then," Kim moved onto the questioning. "Who is he?"
"It's best to start with a 'why he is here'." Shego replied. "Grim knew the annual villain's conference was going to be held here in London, and decided to crash the party. It's probably part of some plan to take over the world - so cliché."
"Explain the villain's conference before you go any further," Kim told her. "And while you're at it, explain why you're here and not Drakken. Aren't you two a couple?"
"Business associates? Yes. Couple? No," Shego replied coldly, and then proceeded to recount to the two teens everything that had happened over the last few days. Starting from the day Drakken disappeared, her story finished with the moment she lost consciousness the night before in the taxi.
"So who's Grim?" Ron finally asked when Shego had finished.
"Would a madman bent on world conquest or the total destruction of all of its inhabitants help any?" Shego asked in reply.
"Not really, they're all like that," Kim answered dryly. "Where did he come from? What's his background?"
"No one really knows," admitted Shego. "The first time anyone heard of him was in some back-alley bio-terror lab during the early eighties. I guess it was about '83 when anyone first heard about it - two college dropouts starting their own basement bomb factory somewhere in the United States. It was something completely unheard of, and a little crazy too. Before those two, no one had ever even thought of a group of civilians synthetically producing diseases. If you wanted a weapon like that, you usually contacted a friendly government and struck a deal for some old, unused batches."
"It was that easy to get those kinds of weapons?" Kim asked doubtfully.
"It still is," Shego countered. "Except nowadays you just go to one of these private labs and get a much better deal. Anyways, back to the story: Grim and his buddy began making their own diseases, which they proved to be surprisingly good at. Within six months they had a new strand of Ebola on the market; highly infectious, airborne, able to survive in non-tropical climates - heavy stuff. Everyone was trying to get a batch: terrorists, pharmaceutical companies. Even the US government was after it."
"Why'd they buy it? Aren't they supposed to shut down those kinds of places?" Kim interrupted, confused.
"Not if they haven't come up with that virus yet, no," replied Shego. "They hadn't developed that strand yet, so they bought a few batches through deep- cover agents of the CIA. Everything was peachy for a while, until they decided that the lab was getting too dangerous. Supposedly Grim had moved on to plans of attack for terrorist groups - writing up specific sets of instructions as to how to use his weapons to the best of their abilities. He had game plans for total world domination, killing off entire cities, everything. And he was writing more each day. Though the CIA was perfectly fine with him making these kinds of mass casualty weapons, they weren't fine with him telling people how to use them."
"So they shut the place down?" asked Ron, leaning in as the story got good.
"Brilliant deduction," sneered Shego before continuing. "Yeah, they shut it down, and forced Grim to flee the country. He moved to the Soviet Union, I think, though was followed there by sixteen different assassins. He killed all of them, and traced their last few payments to six different governments around the world. Countries, organizations, people he had done business with had turned on him the moment things started to go sour."
"I take it he was pretty tweaked," Kim guessed.
"Pretty tweaked is one of the biggest understatements I've heard in a while," Shego remarked. "Grim was now a wanted man - wanted and penniless. The CIA had frozen all of his assets when they shut down the lab, and put a huge price on his head. According to rumors, if you brought him in dead they would give you five million dollars, no questions asked. So Grim needed a government to protect him, to keep him safe from the United States' bloodhounds. And that was why he ended up in the Soviet Union, where he restarted the weapons lab."
"In the USSR? Isn't that a dumb idea?" Ron asked, remembering from History class that the Soviets weren't very tolerant of terrorists.
"Not if the government was funding the entire thing," Shego replied, getting a little fed up with the constant interruptions. "The Politburo saw him as a valuable asset to their biological weapons department, mostly because - having been trained in the West - he was years ahead of them research-wise. So they agreed to fund his lab as long as he taught their scientists all he knew. Which he did, and quite well too since when the Soviet Union broke up every country surrounding it gained about five hundred well trained bio-weapons experts. Grim, on the other hand, stayed in Russia for the next few years, and made millions off new diseases - including a version of AIDS that didn't bother to hibernate for ten years before tearing your body to pieces. Once again he was living the high life - a banker I once met on a mission for Drakken said he had over fifty million dollars in bank accounts around the world. No one could touch him - he had enough guards to take over a small European country if he felt like it - and in Russia he was treated like a king. But then one day he just disappeared - never been seen since."
"Yeah right," Kim said dubiously. "No one can just 'disappear' into thin air."
"He did," Shego retorted. "Some in the business say he was murdered, others say he just died, some even think he committed suicide."
"What do you think?" inquired Kim.
"Me? I think he just disappeared - if he died, we would've heard about it."
"Why? He lived in Russia for Christ's sake - someone could just kill him and dump him in the forest," Ron pointed out. "The police would find him, label him an unknown person and stick him in a graveyard somewhere."
"Not really, no," Shego corrected him. "You see, Grim lost an arm in a fight with one of the assassins and then had it a group of West German engineers build him a new one. Built completely out of titanium, strong enough to break through stone walls and throw men the length of a football field."
"So, not just your normal prosthetic then?" Ron asked.
"Whadda you think?" she replied sarcastically.
"And he hasn't been seen since?" Kim confirmed.
"Not since '96, when he disappeared, no."
"Do you think it's him?" Kim asked. "Do you think he's the guy who wrote this fax?"
"Probably - he was always one for big plots," Shego said. Kim could sense a change in her voice, could hear tones softening as she took a brief stroll down memory lane.
"You knew him?"
"No," Shego denied sharply, knowing what the teenager was getting at. "There was never anything between us - I only heard about him from Drakken. He told me about Grim one time when we were stuck in his lair during a hurricane - the power went out, and it was either stories from his early childhood or Grim. Take a wild guess which one I chose."
"How dangerous do you think Grim is?" Ron butted in on her reminiscing.
"Much worse than anything you two have gone up against," Shego replied heavily. "He's ruthless, intelligent and completely committed to his goals. The man won't hesitate for a second if he's forced to release the virus - he'd rather kill everyone on the planet than fail."
"So, how do we stop him?" said Kim, fearing Shego might not know the answer.
"You've got to talk to someone who's met him - someone who knows how he works."
"How about Drakken? You make him sound like he knows a lot about this guy," Ron observed.
"Knows a lot about him - yes. Met him, worked with him - no way," Shego shut the idea down. "Drakken is way too much of an amateur for Grim to bother with him."
"I take it there's been some tension between you two for some time," Kim observed when Shego practically spat her partner's name.
"You've seen us together - he's tripping over his own feet half the time!" Shego exclaimed, coughing furiously afterwards until the nurse let her sip some water from a straw.
"Thanks," she said to the woman, who gave Kim a very hard stare.
"Try not to wear her out too much - she's still in recovery," the nurse said condescendingly.
"Sorry," Kim mumbled an apology before returning to Shego. "Do you have any idea where Drakken is?"
"If I did - why would I bother with the bounty hunters?"
"Good point." There was a brief pause as Kim tried to remember what her next question was. It was something to do with what Shego had said about Grim's early years - something about the first bio-terror lab. Finally it came to her: "You said Drakken told you about Grim, right?"
"Yeah."
"But he never met him before?"
"Not that I know of - I think Drakken was still in college when Grim and his friend started the lab."
"When was that, in 83', right?" Kim pressed on, hoping her hunch was correct.
"Yeah, in late spring I think," Shego replied warily, unsure of where the adolescent was going with this one.
"About the same time as the Science Department mixer my dad went to," Kim observed more to herself than anyone in the room.
"What's that got to do with Grim?" Ron asked, as confused as Shego was about what Kim was thinking.
"My dad said Drakken - who was then still Drew Lipsky - dropped out of college around about the time the Science Department held a big end-of-year party. He would have been fresh out of college and - knowing Drakken - looking for a way to get back at the people who kicked him out."
"And what better way then to make weapons of mass destruction," Shego continued, finally understanding what Kim was getting at.
"You think he was Grim's partner?" Ron asked, trying to catch up with the two women's train of thought.
"Grim was a college dropout too - they probably found a lot in common," Shego theorized.
"You think Drakken would be willing to tell us everything he knew about Grim?" Kim queried, hoping the answer was yes.
"I remember he didn't speak of him very fondly," Shego responded. "He'd probably be glad to help if it meant putting Grim in a tough spot - these villains love to screw each other over."
"Only problem is we've got to find him," Ron reminded them gloomily.
"Shouldn't be too hard if we get the Brits to help us with finding him," Shego pointed out. "If they can get the world's intelligence services looking for him 24/7, it shouldn't take too long to find him. A blue- skinned man kinda stands out in a crowd."
"Good point," Ron conceded. "But that's only if the Brits think it's worth it."
"There's only one way to find out." Kim whipped out her Kimmunicator and connected to Wade. Unlike the other time she'd made an emergency call from Europe, he wasn't fast asleep when the computer started beeping on his desk.
"Hey Kim - you guys hear about the bomb in Paris?" he asked when her face appeared on the screen.
"Yeah, we're trying to figure out who did it now," she answered quickly. "Has anyone filled you in on the message the British embassy received?"
"Finch faxed me a copy," he said, waving the paper with one hand. "You guys know who this Grim is?"
"We've been talking with Shego - and she's given us a general idea of the guy," said Kim.
"Shego? Helping you!" Wade exclaimed loud enough for the woman in question to hear.
"Yeah techno-dork," she retorted. "You'll need all the help you can get with this one."
"KP, I'm not so sure about this," he confided in her. "Are we sure she's trustworthy enough?"
"If not there's nothing we can do about it," Kim said; looking hard at Shego, as if to read her mind. "Could you put me through to either Finch or Hackney?"
"Sure thing." He tapped a few keys and in moments Kim heard the long beeps of a phone ringing.
"Hello?" Hackney's said - his voice represented on the screen as a vertically oscillating line. The higher the amplitude of each wave, the higher the volume of his voice. It looked like a cross between a heart-rate monitor and a kid on speed playing jump rope.
"Mr. Hackney - it's Kim Possible."
"Ah Ms. Possible, so good to hear from you. We were just about to give you a ring," he told her. "The Prime Minister has agreed to take on the task of finding this 'Grim' person before he strikes again, and the Secretary General will send a reply to the fax within the next few hours."
"Sounds great," Kim said quickly, wanting to get onto the purpose of her call. "Mr. Hackney - I've been talking to Shego, and we think we have an idea on how to deal with Grim."
"What's that?"
"Dr Drakken - her partner - probably worked with Grim in a bio-terror lab in the eighties. He might know something about how this man works, and what we can do to stop him," she explained.
"Splendid."
"Yeah - but there's a catch," Kim added. "Drakken left Shego without a word three days ago. Supposedly he's having a midlife crisis or something."
"Well that's a bit inconvenient," the man on the other end of the line remarked, a typically upbeat British state of mind.
"Just a little. Anyway, I was wondering if you could convince the Prime Minister to devote some of your intelligence services to finding Drakken, since he probably knows more than anyone else in the world about Grim. Or at least more than anyone else who's prepared to talk to a government. And I think that if we try to stop this completely unprepared, we'll all end up dead," Kim said, voicing her greatest fear about the operation.
"I totally agree. Let me speak to the PM for a moment then," Hackney said, and the line went silent. Kim mouthed the words 'he's checking it out' to Ron, who was waiting with an expectant look plastered across his face.
"Ms. Possible? This is the Prime Minister," someone finally said, their voice deep, rich and imbued with an air of regality.
"Oh, hello sir," Kim replied, a little surprised that the head of Britain's government was taking the time to talk to her.
"I've spoken with Mr. Hackney, and we agree that finding Dr. Drakken will be the most useful course of action to take at this time," the man informed her.
"Thank you sir," Kim said graciously, glad that they'd been given the go- ahead.
"Britain and other governments around the world are devoting our entire intelligence networks to finding this man. We promise you useful results by noon tomorrow," the Prime Minister continued, evidently having forgotten that he was speaking to a teenager.
"Glad to hear it sir," said teenager told him, not knowing what else to say.
"Oh - and thanks for helping me with that little anniversary problem - the missus loved it," the PM said, dropping the stately air and volume in his voice.
"Don't worry sir - it was so not the drama," Kim replied in her usual offhanded fashion. "I was just glad we found a shop still open at midnight on Christmas Eve."
"As am I," the man agreed. The line was quiet for a moment as one of his advisors spoke to him quickly. "I'm terribly sorry - but I've got to go," the PM said when he came back on. "We'll keep in touch."
"Call me or beep me," was the last thing Kim said to him before the line went dead. Wade had also disconnected, so Kim switched off the mini- computer and placed it back in her cargo pants pocket.
"What was all that about an anniversary problem?" Ron said.
"It happened last Christmas," Kim answered. "You weren't there, remember."
"Oh yeah - I was on the North Pole," Ron shuddered, remembering spending Christmas Eve with Dr. Drakken in subzero temperatures with only his mission gear on. "So what happened?"
"He just needed some help with a wedding anniversary for him and his wife," Kim explained. "I just gave him some advice on flowers and chocolate. The man was completely clueless when it came to buying things for his wife. Great leader of his country, completely useless at buying presents."
"And you did all this while I almost froze to death up in the not-so winter wonderland?" Ron asked, getting a little riled.
"Don't worry Ron, I was thinking about you the entire time," Kim assured him, remembering how awful it was not knowing where her best friend was. And still she had to help the Prime Minister buy red roses. Those were times when the whole 'saving the world' deal didn't look so hot.
"So what do we do now?" Shego rasped from her bed before taking another sip of water.
"We wait," Kim said sighing heavily and reclining back into her chair. "Wait until someone finds out where Drakken is. Until then, there's nothing else anyone can do."
"We wait?" Shego asked incredulously. "I thought you two flitted around the world stopping criminals and solving mysteries. It always sounded like mission after mission, no breaks. No one ever mentioned anything about waiting."
"Yeah - the teen hero life ain't all action and adventure," Kim agreed.
"Thank god," Ron observed.
Kim froze for a moment, unsure of what to say. Everything had changed so quickly since she awoke only minutes earlier, that she needed a moment of calm to plan her next move. While going to Number 10 with Hackney was tempting, she could sense it probably wasn't the best use of her time. Talking to Shego could probably tell them more about the situation than any intergovernmental reports could, especially since none of the governments even knew who they were dealing with yet. Shego, on the other hand, had firsthand experience with villains all day long and so could give them a pretty good idea as to what they were up against. But that was only if she felt like telling the truth, and if she was clearheaded enough to know what the truth was with all the painkillers she was on.
"How long has she been up?" Kim finally asked the doctor. She knew from experience that the first few minutes after you wake up from anything involving the use of sedatives aren't the most lucid of moments.
"About ten minutes - but she's already able to speak coherently," Chung replied. "She seems to have a pretty good idea of where she is and how she got here, so we can rule out any short-term amnesia. I and other doctors believe she is both ready and willing for questioning now."
"Then we're staying," decided Kim. "You go on ahead without us Mr. Hackney. If you need our input on anything, just call Wade - he'll patch you through to the Kimmunicator."
"Very well Ms. Possible," Hackney agreed without protest, knowing Shego's questioning was of the utmost importance. "Good luck."
"You too," said Kim, and then turned back to Chung. "Lead on."
They retraced their steps along the hallway to Shego's door, which was now blocked by a group of heavily armed men. The number of guards had tripled outside the door, now that the prisoner was awake. What was once two bored looking policemen with nightsticks and radios had now become a half dozen army soldiers toting assault rifles and equally unforgiving expressions. Two stood at either end of the corridor, carefully surveying all who passed while their comrades stood motionless in front of room 6B. All six watched each passer-by like he or she were packing an Uzi, and received more odd looks in the process than a nudist in Piccadilly Circus on a Saturday morning. But as Chung approached, the men nodded in acknowledgement and stepped aside to allow him to pass. The doctor motioned Kim and Ron inside, before turning to the soldiers:
"Thanks boys," he said, nodding to them in appreciation. "Lock the door behind them."
They did as they were told, leaving the Kim, Ron and a young nurse alone in the room. Soundproofed walls and doors meant that all Kim could hear was the methodical beeping and whirring of the various life-support machines sitting around the bed in the center of the room. To one side was a small window, which looked out of the dull chamber onto an equally gloomy courtyard and parking lot. The nurse sat at her station in front of it, filling out paperwork and glancing up every few seconds at the readouts on the various machines to make sure everything was as it should be. On the other side of the bed, a pair of chairs sat empty, where Kim suspected they were supposed to sit for the interrogation. Someone had set up a camera on a tripod to document the entire ordeal for later review, which sat at the end of the bed, aimed at Shego's face.
The woman lay covered in a set of sheets for warmth, and probably for decency too since Kim guessed she was still naked underneath. If the doctors needed to get back in and resume surgery quickly, they probably didn't want to waste time trying to disrobe their patient. Sets of cables trailed out from underneath the white polyester bedspread to the computers and monitors arranged around the head of the bed, and Kim could see at least one IV tube attached to Shego's wrist. While lying flat on the bed, Shego's head and shoulders had been propped up just enough to give her an unobstructed view of the room. Without moving her head, she could see the nurse, camera and those questioning her all at once. Though very much awake and alive, Shego was still wounded badly, meaning she could do little more that talk and turn her head slightly to face Kim and Ron as they entered the room.
"Hey Kimmie, having a nice time?" Shego croaked as they sat down, chuckling at her own joke. "I sure ain't."
"Looks like it," Kim agreed, trying to keep the atmosphere as friendly as possible. If Shego felt threatened, she might decide to keep all her information about Grim to herself. "I heard you wanted to speak to me."
"Yeah, I do."
"About what?"
"About what I need to do to get out of this dump," Shego answered, motioning with her head around the room.
"Get better, and then spend the rest of your life in jail," Kim said coldly, remembering Shego's taunting words from the night before.
"I don't think it's gonna work like that," the other woman predicted smugly.
"And why not?" Kim asked, interested.
"Because I know you need my help, and you'll do whatever it takes to get it," replied Shego cockily.
"Don't think so, sorry," said Kim flatly.
"Why not?"
"Because after you see this, I think you'll feel very helpful all of a sudden," Kim said, and switched on the television.
She let the BBC run for a few minutes, watching Shego's nonplussed expression at the sight of people being carried away from the bomb site in body bags. Then she pulled a copy of the fax out of her pocket and proceeded to read the entire thing out loud. This time she got a response, especially from the words 'Mr. Grim', at which point Shego's pupils flared to the size of dinner plates. Kim had no idea how she had known the fax would get a rise out of Shego, she had only done it as a test - to see how much the woman knew. Somehow it had worked though - something about Grim had tripped in Shego's mind, and all of a sudden she looked very willing to talk.
"Feel like answering a few questions now?" Kim asked, now the smug one.
"Not unless you guarantee two things," Shego demanded.
"I'm not in a position to do that."
"Then get someone who is - otherwise you get nothing, nadda. Zilch."
"What are the guarantees?" inquired Kim, hoping they weren't too outrageous - they really did need Shego's help.
"I thought you couldn't help me?" the woman mocked her.
"Tell me what they are, and I'll think about it," promised Kim.
"I need something better than that," Shego insisted.
"Fine - if you help us, we'll guarantee whatever it is you want," Kim acquiesced.
"Much better," pronounced Shego, a smile flickering across her face. "I want to promise that neither Drakken nor I will be arrested or harmed in any way after all this mess is over."
"Sure - if you promise to help us," countered Kim. "Not feed us fake information like this Mr. Grim tells you to."
"You think I'm working for that weirdo - you gotta be kidding me!" Shego exclaimed, insulted.
"So you know this person then," Kim moved onto the questioning. "Who is he?"
"It's best to start with a 'why he is here'." Shego replied. "Grim knew the annual villain's conference was going to be held here in London, and decided to crash the party. It's probably part of some plan to take over the world - so cliché."
"Explain the villain's conference before you go any further," Kim told her. "And while you're at it, explain why you're here and not Drakken. Aren't you two a couple?"
"Business associates? Yes. Couple? No," Shego replied coldly, and then proceeded to recount to the two teens everything that had happened over the last few days. Starting from the day Drakken disappeared, her story finished with the moment she lost consciousness the night before in the taxi.
"So who's Grim?" Ron finally asked when Shego had finished.
"Would a madman bent on world conquest or the total destruction of all of its inhabitants help any?" Shego asked in reply.
"Not really, they're all like that," Kim answered dryly. "Where did he come from? What's his background?"
"No one really knows," admitted Shego. "The first time anyone heard of him was in some back-alley bio-terror lab during the early eighties. I guess it was about '83 when anyone first heard about it - two college dropouts starting their own basement bomb factory somewhere in the United States. It was something completely unheard of, and a little crazy too. Before those two, no one had ever even thought of a group of civilians synthetically producing diseases. If you wanted a weapon like that, you usually contacted a friendly government and struck a deal for some old, unused batches."
"It was that easy to get those kinds of weapons?" Kim asked doubtfully.
"It still is," Shego countered. "Except nowadays you just go to one of these private labs and get a much better deal. Anyways, back to the story: Grim and his buddy began making their own diseases, which they proved to be surprisingly good at. Within six months they had a new strand of Ebola on the market; highly infectious, airborne, able to survive in non-tropical climates - heavy stuff. Everyone was trying to get a batch: terrorists, pharmaceutical companies. Even the US government was after it."
"Why'd they buy it? Aren't they supposed to shut down those kinds of places?" Kim interrupted, confused.
"Not if they haven't come up with that virus yet, no," replied Shego. "They hadn't developed that strand yet, so they bought a few batches through deep- cover agents of the CIA. Everything was peachy for a while, until they decided that the lab was getting too dangerous. Supposedly Grim had moved on to plans of attack for terrorist groups - writing up specific sets of instructions as to how to use his weapons to the best of their abilities. He had game plans for total world domination, killing off entire cities, everything. And he was writing more each day. Though the CIA was perfectly fine with him making these kinds of mass casualty weapons, they weren't fine with him telling people how to use them."
"So they shut the place down?" asked Ron, leaning in as the story got good.
"Brilliant deduction," sneered Shego before continuing. "Yeah, they shut it down, and forced Grim to flee the country. He moved to the Soviet Union, I think, though was followed there by sixteen different assassins. He killed all of them, and traced their last few payments to six different governments around the world. Countries, organizations, people he had done business with had turned on him the moment things started to go sour."
"I take it he was pretty tweaked," Kim guessed.
"Pretty tweaked is one of the biggest understatements I've heard in a while," Shego remarked. "Grim was now a wanted man - wanted and penniless. The CIA had frozen all of his assets when they shut down the lab, and put a huge price on his head. According to rumors, if you brought him in dead they would give you five million dollars, no questions asked. So Grim needed a government to protect him, to keep him safe from the United States' bloodhounds. And that was why he ended up in the Soviet Union, where he restarted the weapons lab."
"In the USSR? Isn't that a dumb idea?" Ron asked, remembering from History class that the Soviets weren't very tolerant of terrorists.
"Not if the government was funding the entire thing," Shego replied, getting a little fed up with the constant interruptions. "The Politburo saw him as a valuable asset to their biological weapons department, mostly because - having been trained in the West - he was years ahead of them research-wise. So they agreed to fund his lab as long as he taught their scientists all he knew. Which he did, and quite well too since when the Soviet Union broke up every country surrounding it gained about five hundred well trained bio-weapons experts. Grim, on the other hand, stayed in Russia for the next few years, and made millions off new diseases - including a version of AIDS that didn't bother to hibernate for ten years before tearing your body to pieces. Once again he was living the high life - a banker I once met on a mission for Drakken said he had over fifty million dollars in bank accounts around the world. No one could touch him - he had enough guards to take over a small European country if he felt like it - and in Russia he was treated like a king. But then one day he just disappeared - never been seen since."
"Yeah right," Kim said dubiously. "No one can just 'disappear' into thin air."
"He did," Shego retorted. "Some in the business say he was murdered, others say he just died, some even think he committed suicide."
"What do you think?" inquired Kim.
"Me? I think he just disappeared - if he died, we would've heard about it."
"Why? He lived in Russia for Christ's sake - someone could just kill him and dump him in the forest," Ron pointed out. "The police would find him, label him an unknown person and stick him in a graveyard somewhere."
"Not really, no," Shego corrected him. "You see, Grim lost an arm in a fight with one of the assassins and then had it a group of West German engineers build him a new one. Built completely out of titanium, strong enough to break through stone walls and throw men the length of a football field."
"So, not just your normal prosthetic then?" Ron asked.
"Whadda you think?" she replied sarcastically.
"And he hasn't been seen since?" Kim confirmed.
"Not since '96, when he disappeared, no."
"Do you think it's him?" Kim asked. "Do you think he's the guy who wrote this fax?"
"Probably - he was always one for big plots," Shego said. Kim could sense a change in her voice, could hear tones softening as she took a brief stroll down memory lane.
"You knew him?"
"No," Shego denied sharply, knowing what the teenager was getting at. "There was never anything between us - I only heard about him from Drakken. He told me about Grim one time when we were stuck in his lair during a hurricane - the power went out, and it was either stories from his early childhood or Grim. Take a wild guess which one I chose."
"How dangerous do you think Grim is?" Ron butted in on her reminiscing.
"Much worse than anything you two have gone up against," Shego replied heavily. "He's ruthless, intelligent and completely committed to his goals. The man won't hesitate for a second if he's forced to release the virus - he'd rather kill everyone on the planet than fail."
"So, how do we stop him?" said Kim, fearing Shego might not know the answer.
"You've got to talk to someone who's met him - someone who knows how he works."
"How about Drakken? You make him sound like he knows a lot about this guy," Ron observed.
"Knows a lot about him - yes. Met him, worked with him - no way," Shego shut the idea down. "Drakken is way too much of an amateur for Grim to bother with him."
"I take it there's been some tension between you two for some time," Kim observed when Shego practically spat her partner's name.
"You've seen us together - he's tripping over his own feet half the time!" Shego exclaimed, coughing furiously afterwards until the nurse let her sip some water from a straw.
"Thanks," she said to the woman, who gave Kim a very hard stare.
"Try not to wear her out too much - she's still in recovery," the nurse said condescendingly.
"Sorry," Kim mumbled an apology before returning to Shego. "Do you have any idea where Drakken is?"
"If I did - why would I bother with the bounty hunters?"
"Good point." There was a brief pause as Kim tried to remember what her next question was. It was something to do with what Shego had said about Grim's early years - something about the first bio-terror lab. Finally it came to her: "You said Drakken told you about Grim, right?"
"Yeah."
"But he never met him before?"
"Not that I know of - I think Drakken was still in college when Grim and his friend started the lab."
"When was that, in 83', right?" Kim pressed on, hoping her hunch was correct.
"Yeah, in late spring I think," Shego replied warily, unsure of where the adolescent was going with this one.
"About the same time as the Science Department mixer my dad went to," Kim observed more to herself than anyone in the room.
"What's that got to do with Grim?" Ron asked, as confused as Shego was about what Kim was thinking.
"My dad said Drakken - who was then still Drew Lipsky - dropped out of college around about the time the Science Department held a big end-of-year party. He would have been fresh out of college and - knowing Drakken - looking for a way to get back at the people who kicked him out."
"And what better way then to make weapons of mass destruction," Shego continued, finally understanding what Kim was getting at.
"You think he was Grim's partner?" Ron asked, trying to catch up with the two women's train of thought.
"Grim was a college dropout too - they probably found a lot in common," Shego theorized.
"You think Drakken would be willing to tell us everything he knew about Grim?" Kim queried, hoping the answer was yes.
"I remember he didn't speak of him very fondly," Shego responded. "He'd probably be glad to help if it meant putting Grim in a tough spot - these villains love to screw each other over."
"Only problem is we've got to find him," Ron reminded them gloomily.
"Shouldn't be too hard if we get the Brits to help us with finding him," Shego pointed out. "If they can get the world's intelligence services looking for him 24/7, it shouldn't take too long to find him. A blue- skinned man kinda stands out in a crowd."
"Good point," Ron conceded. "But that's only if the Brits think it's worth it."
"There's only one way to find out." Kim whipped out her Kimmunicator and connected to Wade. Unlike the other time she'd made an emergency call from Europe, he wasn't fast asleep when the computer started beeping on his desk.
"Hey Kim - you guys hear about the bomb in Paris?" he asked when her face appeared on the screen.
"Yeah, we're trying to figure out who did it now," she answered quickly. "Has anyone filled you in on the message the British embassy received?"
"Finch faxed me a copy," he said, waving the paper with one hand. "You guys know who this Grim is?"
"We've been talking with Shego - and she's given us a general idea of the guy," said Kim.
"Shego? Helping you!" Wade exclaimed loud enough for the woman in question to hear.
"Yeah techno-dork," she retorted. "You'll need all the help you can get with this one."
"KP, I'm not so sure about this," he confided in her. "Are we sure she's trustworthy enough?"
"If not there's nothing we can do about it," Kim said; looking hard at Shego, as if to read her mind. "Could you put me through to either Finch or Hackney?"
"Sure thing." He tapped a few keys and in moments Kim heard the long beeps of a phone ringing.
"Hello?" Hackney's said - his voice represented on the screen as a vertically oscillating line. The higher the amplitude of each wave, the higher the volume of his voice. It looked like a cross between a heart-rate monitor and a kid on speed playing jump rope.
"Mr. Hackney - it's Kim Possible."
"Ah Ms. Possible, so good to hear from you. We were just about to give you a ring," he told her. "The Prime Minister has agreed to take on the task of finding this 'Grim' person before he strikes again, and the Secretary General will send a reply to the fax within the next few hours."
"Sounds great," Kim said quickly, wanting to get onto the purpose of her call. "Mr. Hackney - I've been talking to Shego, and we think we have an idea on how to deal with Grim."
"What's that?"
"Dr Drakken - her partner - probably worked with Grim in a bio-terror lab in the eighties. He might know something about how this man works, and what we can do to stop him," she explained.
"Splendid."
"Yeah - but there's a catch," Kim added. "Drakken left Shego without a word three days ago. Supposedly he's having a midlife crisis or something."
"Well that's a bit inconvenient," the man on the other end of the line remarked, a typically upbeat British state of mind.
"Just a little. Anyway, I was wondering if you could convince the Prime Minister to devote some of your intelligence services to finding Drakken, since he probably knows more than anyone else in the world about Grim. Or at least more than anyone else who's prepared to talk to a government. And I think that if we try to stop this completely unprepared, we'll all end up dead," Kim said, voicing her greatest fear about the operation.
"I totally agree. Let me speak to the PM for a moment then," Hackney said, and the line went silent. Kim mouthed the words 'he's checking it out' to Ron, who was waiting with an expectant look plastered across his face.
"Ms. Possible? This is the Prime Minister," someone finally said, their voice deep, rich and imbued with an air of regality.
"Oh, hello sir," Kim replied, a little surprised that the head of Britain's government was taking the time to talk to her.
"I've spoken with Mr. Hackney, and we agree that finding Dr. Drakken will be the most useful course of action to take at this time," the man informed her.
"Thank you sir," Kim said graciously, glad that they'd been given the go- ahead.
"Britain and other governments around the world are devoting our entire intelligence networks to finding this man. We promise you useful results by noon tomorrow," the Prime Minister continued, evidently having forgotten that he was speaking to a teenager.
"Glad to hear it sir," said teenager told him, not knowing what else to say.
"Oh - and thanks for helping me with that little anniversary problem - the missus loved it," the PM said, dropping the stately air and volume in his voice.
"Don't worry sir - it was so not the drama," Kim replied in her usual offhanded fashion. "I was just glad we found a shop still open at midnight on Christmas Eve."
"As am I," the man agreed. The line was quiet for a moment as one of his advisors spoke to him quickly. "I'm terribly sorry - but I've got to go," the PM said when he came back on. "We'll keep in touch."
"Call me or beep me," was the last thing Kim said to him before the line went dead. Wade had also disconnected, so Kim switched off the mini- computer and placed it back in her cargo pants pocket.
"What was all that about an anniversary problem?" Ron said.
"It happened last Christmas," Kim answered. "You weren't there, remember."
"Oh yeah - I was on the North Pole," Ron shuddered, remembering spending Christmas Eve with Dr. Drakken in subzero temperatures with only his mission gear on. "So what happened?"
"He just needed some help with a wedding anniversary for him and his wife," Kim explained. "I just gave him some advice on flowers and chocolate. The man was completely clueless when it came to buying things for his wife. Great leader of his country, completely useless at buying presents."
"And you did all this while I almost froze to death up in the not-so winter wonderland?" Ron asked, getting a little riled.
"Don't worry Ron, I was thinking about you the entire time," Kim assured him, remembering how awful it was not knowing where her best friend was. And still she had to help the Prime Minister buy red roses. Those were times when the whole 'saving the world' deal didn't look so hot.
"So what do we do now?" Shego rasped from her bed before taking another sip of water.
"We wait," Kim said sighing heavily and reclining back into her chair. "Wait until someone finds out where Drakken is. Until then, there's nothing else anyone can do."
"We wait?" Shego asked incredulously. "I thought you two flitted around the world stopping criminals and solving mysteries. It always sounded like mission after mission, no breaks. No one ever mentioned anything about waiting."
"Yeah - the teen hero life ain't all action and adventure," Kim agreed.
"Thank god," Ron observed.