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KIM POSSIBLE: FUTURE IMPERFECT
Chapter Three
"Questions"
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The limousine pulled to a stop in front of the Avion Rapide main office. Kim and Ron quickly exited the vehicle, Kim pausing to stop by the driver's door. "Thanks a lot, Mrs. Carghill! I really appreciate the lift!"
"No problem, Kim, especially after you helped save my business last spring." the rotund woman replied with a smile.
"It was just a small flood. No big." Kim said. She turned back to Ron, who was coughing violently, and gave him a disapproving look. "I told you not to drink it, Ron." she scolded.
"I was juth cuwioth wha it tasthted wike, Kim." he whined. "Gawd, how can people dwink thhhat sthtuff?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to one side. "You know what they say about curiosity, Ron." He gave her a baffled look. "As in, curiosity killed the cat?"
Ron wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Killed the cat? That, that, that's cruel! Not that any self respecting cat would go anywhere near that stuff." He blinked a moment, then, in a softer voice, "Who exactly is this 'they,' anyways?"
Kim sighed. Typical. "C'mon, Ron," she said, heading for the front door.
A tall, well-dressed gentleman met then at the door. "Ah, Kim Possible! Please, come in, come in." he exclaimed, voice inflected with a faint French accent. "I am glad to see you once again. The one who called said that there were some questions you had for me? I cannot imagine what, but feel free to ask."
"Mr. Anderton, I presume." Kim said, following the man inside. "Thanks for seeing us on such short notice. I'd like to start by asking about the person who borrowed the plane yesterday."
"I do not understand. It was you, was it..." He paused, studying her. "Your hair..."
"My hair?" Kim blinked. "What about it? I don't have split ends or something, do I?" She pulled out a compact and began inspecting herself in the mirror.
"No, no, of course not. It is quite well-maintained. It's just that... well, yesterday it was much shorter." He held his hands near his shoulders. "About this long. How is this possible?" He leaned closer, peering at her hair. "A wig, no?"
"So not." Kim scoffed, pocketing the compact with a satisfied sigh. "Mr. Anderton, I hate to break it to you, but whoever it was that borrowed that plane yesterday, it wasn't me."
Mr. Anderton blinked. "Pardon?"
"Hello, not her," Ron chimed, "You know, someone else? A fake? Clone, copy, cross-dresser, something like that?"
Kim frowned. "A cross-dresser, Ron?"
"Hey, I had that c-thing going for me. Didn't want to break the chain." He smiled sheepishly. "Besides, I couldn't think of anything else."
"Excuse me, Miss Possible," Mr. Anderton interrupted, "Are you trying to tell me that I loaned one of my aircraft to an... an... an imposter?"
"Imposter, yes, that's another good word for it!"
"Hush, Ron," Kim chided. Turning back to the flustered executive, she smiled calmly. "I'm sorry to say it, Mr. Anderton, but it looks that way. Is there anything you can tell me about this person?"
"Well, there is nothing much to tell. She was dressed in black." He began ticking his fingers as he continued. "All black. Pants like yours. Long-sleeve shirt. Black military-style boots. Black sunglasses. And a large duffel bag."
"Let me guess, black, right?" Kim asked.
"Yes. All black. She was quite polite and courteous. Still, there was something..."
Kim cocked her head. "What?"
"A feeling." Mr. Anderton frowned. "A sense of something... wrong. No, not wrong. Dangerous. She gave the impression of someone that was very dangerous."
"And this didn't worry you?" Kim asked, surprised.
"Not at all. You are a crime-fighter, Miss Possible. You deal with dangerous people, dangerous situations all the time. It's is only natural to assume that you would be dangerous as well." He shrugged. "Meeting you now, I can see that this assumption was in error."
"Like Mister Barkin says," Ron said sagely. "When you assume something, you only make an as-"
"Ron!" Kim interrupted. "Is there anything else you can tell us, Mr. Anderton?"
He stopped as they entered a seated waiting area. "I still have the flight plan she filed, if that will help."
Kim nodded. "If it wouldn't be any trouble."
"No trouble at all. I want to resolve this matter as quickly and efficiently as possible. If you will wait here, I will retrieve the file." He turned and left.
Ron flopped down on one of the chairs. "This is kinda freaky, KP. I mean, two of you running around? I have a hard enough time keeping up with one of you. But two of you? The mind boggles."
"Thanks, Ron. I think." She sighed as she sat next to him. "It just doesn't make any sense. Why would someone want to masquerade as me, of all people?"
"Hello? Kim Possible, teen hero? 'She can do anything'? Inspired a fashion craze?" Ron smiled at her. "Besides, she got a trip to Europe out of it, didn't she?"
"It has to be more than that, Ron. You don't do something so elaborate just to borrow an airplane for a trip to France." She frowned. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
Ron stared at the floor. "You've had a bad feeling for about a day now, KP." He looked up at her shocked expression. "What? I've been your friend for 12 years now. I can read you like a book."
"Oh really?"
"Well, a comic book, maybe. Definitely not a novel. Or one of those humongous hardbacks or anything like that." He sighed. "But something's been bugging you ever since lunch yesterday."
"It's just a feeling Ron," she said, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. "I'm sure it'll.... hmmmm."
"What?"
She pulled out her Kimmunicator. "Wade, this place has a security system. Any chance that our mystery pilot was caught on camera?"
Wade smiled. "Already on it, Kim. Didn't want to say anything until I was sure."
"You rock, Wade."
A flurry of keystrokes followed, then Wade smiled. "Hang on, I've got something. Here."
Kim watched the screen as it flickered, then shifted to a color recording. On it, she saw an older woman standing at a counter, handing papers over to a black-clad, red-headed woman. Kim frowned. "Wade, pause the playback, please."
Ron peeked over her shoulder. "Hey, there is a similarity there, Kim. Kind of."
Kim couldn't help but agree. The hair was the same exact shade that she saw in the mirror every morning. And, as Mr. Anderton had mentioned, it was shorter - pulled up in a pony tail as it was she had a hard time judging the true length, but she guessed that it would be about shoulder-length at most. As she examined the woman's face, Kim's jaw dropped. The curve of the jaw, the cheekbones, the shape of the ears. My God, Kim breathed silently, That's my face. She blinked, her frown deepening. "Wade, can you enhance the imposter? I want to get a better look."
A moment later, the image zoomed in on the mysterious woman. "Too much makeup," she sniffed. "And as if I would ever wear that sort of outfit," Kim mused, studying the woman's garb. She couldn't help but notice that the imposter was very athletic in appearance, the form-fitting top revealing muscled arms and shoulders. Not muscled in the weightlifting sense, but rather like an endurance runner. And there was something else. The way she was standing, the way she held herself as she seemingly relaxed on the counter.
Dangerous was the word that Mr. Anderton had used. Seeing her now, even if was on video rather than in person, Kim had to agree. The woman had the look of a coiled spring, ready to burst into action at a moment's notice.
Kim stood up as Mr. Anderton re-entered the room carrying a manila folder. "Wade, see if you can get any more information from the video. I'll do some more investigating here." She switched off the Kimmunicator and turned to face Mr. Anderton, who handed the file to her. "Is is okay if we keep this for a while, Mr. Anderton?"
"Of course, Miss Possible. Keep it for as long as you like. I hope it will help."
Kim opened the file and quickly paged through it, her expression darkening as she did so. A small growl escaped her lips, and Ron slowly backed away from her.
A familiar beeping interrupted her grumbling. Ron perked up at the sound. "Boy, that was fast."
Kim shot him an annoyed glare and she pulled out the Kimmunicator. "What?"
"Geez, what's tweaking you?" the young genius asked, one eyebrow raised.
Kim sighed. "Sorry, Wade. I'll tell you later. So, what did you find?"
"Still working on the video feed. But there's something else." Wade grimaced at her. "Kim, I just monitored a police report from Cordoba, Spain. There's been an accident."
Kim felt her stomach lurch. "What sort of accident?"
"Adrena Lynn was killed about an hour ago in a freak skydiving accident. Apparently she was performing some sort of skydiving stunt for an advertising company over there." He swallowed, eyes scanning his computer monitor. "Both her main and reserve chutes failed to open."
Kim sat back, stunned by the news. "She... died? Oh, my God."
Ron shook his head. "Dude, I thought Adrena Lynn was all about faking stuff like that. Maybe she's just doing it again."
"I've seen the video feed, Ron. She was at forty thousand feet when she jumped." Wade said softly. "I don't think it's a fake this time."
Ron paled. "Oh, man. Does that mean that she actually... I mean, what would that do to... oh, man."
"Exactly." Kim said. "Wade, we need a ride."
Wade nodded, not looking at all surprised. "Sure thing, Kim. Where to?"
"Spain. I want to check this 'accident' out for myself."
----
Will sat down at the table, eyes scanning the interior of the Middleton "Internet Cafe Emporium" with practiced ease. As he had expected, no one was paying any attention to him at all. Excellent.
A buxom waitress walked over and placed a large glass of water on the table. "Would you like to order, sir?"
Will smiled up at her. "Not at the moment, thank you. I have some surfing to do." She nodded and walked over to the next table.
He glanced down at the monitor installed beneath the clear Plexiglas window inset into the top of the table. Flexing his fingers, he quickly began typing on the attached keyboard. He quickly located the access node and entered is password. God, I hope I'm remembering this right, he mused.
The screen blanked for a moment before the Global Justice Online logo popped up. Success!
He might not be able to simply waltz into Global Justice and access the mainframe, but Dr. Director, being the technology-savvy leader that she was, had installed an online access point for Agents in the field. Tons of security, to be sure, but as long as one had the proper passwords, access was assured.
A frown crossed his features. Just have to hope that my younger self doesn't log on in the next hour or so.
Shaking off the thought, he bent over the keyboard and began typing furiously.
----
Ron stretched, a lazy yawn escaping his lips as he did so. He glanced over at Kim, who was sitting on the other side of the jet's passenger cabin, a new wave of concern washing over him as he did so. Ever since they had visited that Avon Reality place, she had been flipping through the folder that Mr. Anderton had given her. And muttering. Not loud enough so that he could hear the words, but he could detect the tone well enough to know that he didn't want to tick her off any more than she already was. Not that he normally would have heeded such a warning, but lately things had been getting awfully screwy, and Kim had been on edge for over a day. Which was not, in his experience, a good combination.
A frustrated, edgy Kim was not the kind of creature that you wanted to face. Ever. Other than a frustrated, angry Kim. In a confined space. Oh yes, bad roads all around.
He was tempted to try to lighten her mood, but he knew full well that when she got this way there was little chance of success. Still, he should try. It was the least he could do - he hated seeing her this way.
He was worried enough that he almost wished that they were back in Middleton, where he could "arrange" for Josh to stop by. He didn't particularly trust the guy, but he was definitely good for derailing Kim's train of thought.
Unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure where to begin. So he settled on a neutral opening. "So, Kim, anything interesting in there?"
Kim slowly turned to face him. Her eyes held a look that he hadn't expected. Worry. She was worried. Ron swallowed as she offered him a wan smile. "I'm not sure what to make of it, Ron. It doesn't make any sense."
"What?"
She held the folder out for him to see. "Here. Do you see what she wrote?"
He glanced down. Lots of big words in tiny spaces. Handwritten entries all over the place. He frowned. "It's all Greek to me, KP."
She sighed. "I meant the handwriting itself, Ron."
"Oh, yeah, I knew that." He looked again. Something about it did seem familiar, almost as if...
"It's my handwriting, Ron. An exact copy, right down to my signature." She dropped the folder with a frustrated growl. "What is going on here? Not only do they masquerade as me, but they go so far as the copy my handwriting? It doesn't make sense."
"I still say that it's a groupie," Ron suggested. "You know, a rabid, crazed fan, who wants to be like you in every way."
Kim frowned at him. "I don't have groupies, Ron."
"Maybe you do, now."
Kim's frown deepened. "Maybe. But if so, why not copy the look, too? After that messed up fashion craze that I inspired, I'm sure they could get the whole ensemble in a bargain basement bin or something." She shuddered at the thought. "Why go for the all-black combination?"
"Fashion statement?" he suggested.
"It's a statement, all right. But it's not about fashion." Kim shook her head slowly. "I just don't understand."
"Ah, you're the brains of this operation, KP," Ron assured her. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."
----
Global Justice Agent Will Du sat down at his desk with a frustrated sigh. Dr. Director had just spent the last hour berating the entire Intelligence Division for their utter lack of leads in the deaths of both Señor Senior, Junior and Adrena Lynn. Not to mention tearing new ones in the Agents assigned to the cases.
Including him. As if it could possibly be his fault.
He frowned. Besides, it wasn't as if the dearth of evidence was a result of a lack of trying. But whoever had taken out Junior had left precious little behind to help the investigation. And aside from the remains scattered over a small cottage in southern Spain, there was no evidence whatsoever in Adrena Lynn's death - the aircraft she had parachuted from had vanished, along with the pilot and her cameraman.
He pursed his lips, pulling out his laptop and entering his login ID and password.
Before he could hit the "enter" key, his communicator buzzed. "Du. Go."
"We may have a lead, sir. We've located Adrena Lynn's plane," a female voice replied. "It's been found in Málaga."
"I'm on my way."
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End Chapter Three
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