Again I apologize for taking so long to get his piece out. It always seems
to take longer then I expect. Hopefully you enjoy reading it as much as I
enjoyed writing it. Also, for those of you who have not already read
"Immortal Friendship I: Escort Duty", this section will probably be more
enjoyable if you do (link in my profile).
----------------------------------------
"Wade said it would fly," Kim said, looking at the old helicopter. It was giant, its enormous blades stretching, what she guessed was, at least seventy feet from tip to tip.
"Sure doesn't look like it," Ron replied, his eyes fixed on the battered old aircraft.
The communicator beeped and Kim whipped it out of her pocket. "What up, Wade?"
"You find the chopper?"
"I don't know what's scarier: the chopper or Ron flying it."
"It looks that bad, huh? All the maintanence records look up to date. It might not look good, but it should fly."
"Should or will?" Kim asked, her frustration seeping into her voice.
"I'm working on getting the flight manuals, checklists, and all that other stuff downloaded to the communicator," Wade said, ignoring her question. I'll get back to you when I have that."
Kim opened her mouth to complain some more, but Wade had already cut off the transmission. Kim turned to Ron and groaned. "I guess we better get started. Are ya ready?"
"That's a-booyah, Kimbo," Ron answered, walking up to the helicopter and popping open the main door. He then scampered up the stairs and disappeared into the cavernous interior.
Kim felt a sense of apprehension and fear that she was unaccustomed to. Something was dead wrong here, and she knew exactly what it was. But she couldn't think of another option. Drakken had to be stopped, and soon. After all, she thought, I can probably help fly... It'll only take me a few minutes to figure it out.
Ron's head appeared, peaking around the heavy rubber seal that formed the edge of the door. "Ah, Kim... we have a problem."
"I know," Kim murmured under her breath before turning to Ron. "What now?"
"All the controls... they are all different than what I'm used to."
"You're kidding, right?" Kim asked, "Now-" She was cut off by a beep from the communicator. "Please have good news, Wade."
"I got the flight manuals. We should be good to go. Is Ron ready?"
"I don't think so," Kim said slowly. "He says he isn't familiar with the cockpit."
"I can't find the magnetos," Ron yelled out from the base of the helicopter's steps, "or the primer, or the little orange knobby thingy... which I don't remember what it did, but I know it's not here."
Kim saw Wade roll his eyes, the movement barely perceptible over the communicator. "Kim... are you sure you want do this?"
"I'm sure I don't want to do this, Wade. But I don't have a choice. You said it would be at least 24 hours to get another ride lined up. I don't have that kinda time."
"Alright," Wade said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically stressed. "I think I can talk Ron through this... and I know you can help."
"Alright... let's do it."
Two minutes later, Ron was in the right-hand seat, flipping switches as Wade relayed detailed instructions to him via the communicator. Kim cringed each time Ron asked for clarification, something that was happening with alarming frequency.
"OK, now we need to start the APU," Wade said, reading through pages of checklists he had printed out. "Flip off the safety switch on the panel labeled "APU Pnuematic Start".
Ron did as we was told, dropping the small toggle to the off position and waiting for the next instruction. "Flipped off, Wade. What now?"
"This is a bit complicated," Wade said, realizing it would be best if Kim and Ron worked together. "OK, Ron, you're going to handle the switches, Kim you monitor the systems."
"Got it," Ron and Kim replied in sync. Kim opened her mouth, but Ron beat her to it.
"Jinx! You owe me a soda!"
"You are on your toes today, aren't you?"
"I have to be... I'm flying."
I owe you a soda if we live, Kim thought nervously.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deputy Director Richard Melbourne surveyed the small conference room. Glancing at his watch, he felt a wave of frustration roll over his body. Only an hour earlier, he'd received a call that he was needed urgently at the White House. He had risked life and limb to fight the morning rush hour traffic and managed to get into downtown Washington in a record 30 minutes. After flashing his security clearance at the guard shack, he had been summarily escorted into the small room, where he had been sitting for the past twenty minutes.
After what seemed like an eternity, a tall, slender woman stepped into the room. Her youthful looks hid her decades of experience, but Melbourne recognized her immediately.
"Mrs. Fillmore, what an unexpected surprise!" Melbourne announced, bringing himself to his feet slowly but respectfully.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Janet Fillmore, the President's National Security Adviser, said, motioning for the older man to sit down. She adjusted her elegant suit and then also took a seat.
"I don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but if I may I'd like to know what was so urgent that I couldn't even report to my department this morning."
"Well, it concerns the teenagers you were working with... Miss Kim Possible and a Mr... ah..." Her face started to flush in mild embarrassment.
"Stoppable, Mr. Ron Stoppable," Melbourne interjected. "He was our agent. Miss Possible just ended up being there."
"Yes. Being as you did all the background checks, I assume you are well aware of their activities?"
"Of course. We wanted Mr. Stoppable specifically for his experience." Mr. Melbourne smiled slightly. "It was unorthodox, but it worked."
"It did work indeed, but not without putting the CIA, the Secret Service, and this administration through a potentially massive scandal. I received a letter with the signatures of thirty-seven congressmen and senators demanding an investigation."
Melbourne's jaw dropped. "They can't seriously be angry about such a grand success?"
"A young teen being presented to a foreign head of state as a highly trained and capable Secret Service Agent? The President's opponents on the hill are looking for any opportunity to discredit him before this year's election, and you just handed them one on a silver platter. We need to work carefully here. If we don't keep the lid on this, we could have a public relations nightmare within the week."
"So this has nothing to do with us?" Melbourne asked. "This is politics."
"Exactly. They are so anxious to get the President out of office, they are willing to take on anyone and anything to make the President look bad, including disgracing you and the kids you worked with."
Melbourne couldn't keep his disgust from seeping into his voice. "He was eighteen years old and legally deputized by the Agency."
"You know as well as I do it doesn't matter if it was legal or not. Now is the time for damage control."
"Let me know, I'll be happy to work with you any way I can."
"It is fairly simple. You will not have any contact with the kids. You will not provide them with any assistance in their endeavors, no matter what. The last thing we need now is a continued relationship with these two."
Melbourne stared at her for a moment, a stunned expression on his face. "Are you serious? No contact?"
"No contact. No resources under government control will be provided to them. If they get themselves into trouble, they will need to get out of it using the same means as anyone else."
"Well. I suppose that we haven't provided them with help before and they've done just fine. They are quite adept at getting themselves out of tough situations."
"My feelings exactly, Mr. Melbourne. And remember, this is important. Very important. Your future career depends on it, as does mine and the President's. I trust that you will take steps to ensure that none of your subordinates get caught up with these children. Or else, there will be serious consequences."
"Is that a threat, ma'am?"
"It is a statement of fact," Fillmore replied coolly. "But if a threat carries more weight, then by all means, take it as one.
----------------------------------------
"Wade said it would fly," Kim said, looking at the old helicopter. It was giant, its enormous blades stretching, what she guessed was, at least seventy feet from tip to tip.
"Sure doesn't look like it," Ron replied, his eyes fixed on the battered old aircraft.
The communicator beeped and Kim whipped it out of her pocket. "What up, Wade?"
"You find the chopper?"
"I don't know what's scarier: the chopper or Ron flying it."
"It looks that bad, huh? All the maintanence records look up to date. It might not look good, but it should fly."
"Should or will?" Kim asked, her frustration seeping into her voice.
"I'm working on getting the flight manuals, checklists, and all that other stuff downloaded to the communicator," Wade said, ignoring her question. I'll get back to you when I have that."
Kim opened her mouth to complain some more, but Wade had already cut off the transmission. Kim turned to Ron and groaned. "I guess we better get started. Are ya ready?"
"That's a-booyah, Kimbo," Ron answered, walking up to the helicopter and popping open the main door. He then scampered up the stairs and disappeared into the cavernous interior.
Kim felt a sense of apprehension and fear that she was unaccustomed to. Something was dead wrong here, and she knew exactly what it was. But she couldn't think of another option. Drakken had to be stopped, and soon. After all, she thought, I can probably help fly... It'll only take me a few minutes to figure it out.
Ron's head appeared, peaking around the heavy rubber seal that formed the edge of the door. "Ah, Kim... we have a problem."
"I know," Kim murmured under her breath before turning to Ron. "What now?"
"All the controls... they are all different than what I'm used to."
"You're kidding, right?" Kim asked, "Now-" She was cut off by a beep from the communicator. "Please have good news, Wade."
"I got the flight manuals. We should be good to go. Is Ron ready?"
"I don't think so," Kim said slowly. "He says he isn't familiar with the cockpit."
"I can't find the magnetos," Ron yelled out from the base of the helicopter's steps, "or the primer, or the little orange knobby thingy... which I don't remember what it did, but I know it's not here."
Kim saw Wade roll his eyes, the movement barely perceptible over the communicator. "Kim... are you sure you want do this?"
"I'm sure I don't want to do this, Wade. But I don't have a choice. You said it would be at least 24 hours to get another ride lined up. I don't have that kinda time."
"Alright," Wade said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically stressed. "I think I can talk Ron through this... and I know you can help."
"Alright... let's do it."
Two minutes later, Ron was in the right-hand seat, flipping switches as Wade relayed detailed instructions to him via the communicator. Kim cringed each time Ron asked for clarification, something that was happening with alarming frequency.
"OK, now we need to start the APU," Wade said, reading through pages of checklists he had printed out. "Flip off the safety switch on the panel labeled "APU Pnuematic Start".
Ron did as we was told, dropping the small toggle to the off position and waiting for the next instruction. "Flipped off, Wade. What now?"
"This is a bit complicated," Wade said, realizing it would be best if Kim and Ron worked together. "OK, Ron, you're going to handle the switches, Kim you monitor the systems."
"Got it," Ron and Kim replied in sync. Kim opened her mouth, but Ron beat her to it.
"Jinx! You owe me a soda!"
"You are on your toes today, aren't you?"
"I have to be... I'm flying."
I owe you a soda if we live, Kim thought nervously.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deputy Director Richard Melbourne surveyed the small conference room. Glancing at his watch, he felt a wave of frustration roll over his body. Only an hour earlier, he'd received a call that he was needed urgently at the White House. He had risked life and limb to fight the morning rush hour traffic and managed to get into downtown Washington in a record 30 minutes. After flashing his security clearance at the guard shack, he had been summarily escorted into the small room, where he had been sitting for the past twenty minutes.
After what seemed like an eternity, a tall, slender woman stepped into the room. Her youthful looks hid her decades of experience, but Melbourne recognized her immediately.
"Mrs. Fillmore, what an unexpected surprise!" Melbourne announced, bringing himself to his feet slowly but respectfully.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Janet Fillmore, the President's National Security Adviser, said, motioning for the older man to sit down. She adjusted her elegant suit and then also took a seat.
"I don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but if I may I'd like to know what was so urgent that I couldn't even report to my department this morning."
"Well, it concerns the teenagers you were working with... Miss Kim Possible and a Mr... ah..." Her face started to flush in mild embarrassment.
"Stoppable, Mr. Ron Stoppable," Melbourne interjected. "He was our agent. Miss Possible just ended up being there."
"Yes. Being as you did all the background checks, I assume you are well aware of their activities?"
"Of course. We wanted Mr. Stoppable specifically for his experience." Mr. Melbourne smiled slightly. "It was unorthodox, but it worked."
"It did work indeed, but not without putting the CIA, the Secret Service, and this administration through a potentially massive scandal. I received a letter with the signatures of thirty-seven congressmen and senators demanding an investigation."
Melbourne's jaw dropped. "They can't seriously be angry about such a grand success?"
"A young teen being presented to a foreign head of state as a highly trained and capable Secret Service Agent? The President's opponents on the hill are looking for any opportunity to discredit him before this year's election, and you just handed them one on a silver platter. We need to work carefully here. If we don't keep the lid on this, we could have a public relations nightmare within the week."
"So this has nothing to do with us?" Melbourne asked. "This is politics."
"Exactly. They are so anxious to get the President out of office, they are willing to take on anyone and anything to make the President look bad, including disgracing you and the kids you worked with."
Melbourne couldn't keep his disgust from seeping into his voice. "He was eighteen years old and legally deputized by the Agency."
"You know as well as I do it doesn't matter if it was legal or not. Now is the time for damage control."
"Let me know, I'll be happy to work with you any way I can."
"It is fairly simple. You will not have any contact with the kids. You will not provide them with any assistance in their endeavors, no matter what. The last thing we need now is a continued relationship with these two."
Melbourne stared at her for a moment, a stunned expression on his face. "Are you serious? No contact?"
"No contact. No resources under government control will be provided to them. If they get themselves into trouble, they will need to get out of it using the same means as anyone else."
"Well. I suppose that we haven't provided them with help before and they've done just fine. They are quite adept at getting themselves out of tough situations."
"My feelings exactly, Mr. Melbourne. And remember, this is important. Very important. Your future career depends on it, as does mine and the President's. I trust that you will take steps to ensure that none of your subordinates get caught up with these children. Or else, there will be serious consequences."
"Is that a threat, ma'am?"
"It is a statement of fact," Fillmore replied coolly. "But if a threat carries more weight, then by all means, take it as one.