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KIM POSSIBLE: FUTURE IMPERFECT

Chapter Six

"Intersections I"

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Kim and Ron sat quietly in the rear of the cockpit as Will piloted the Global Justice jet over the wind-whipped waters of the North Sea. Kim was holding the Kimmunicator in her lap, waiting for an update from Wade. Ron was staring idly out the canopy, singing the "Gilligan's Island" theme to himself. Rufus was sitting on his shoulder, providing the harmony.

"Do you really need to repeat that song over and over?" Will said, engaging the autopilot and turning to look at Ron.

Ron shrugged. "I can't help it. I've got that darned song in my head now, and I can't get it out."

"Head hurts," Rufus added, nodding.

Will sighed. "Can't you sing something else? Something less irritating?"

"I guess." Ron thought for a moment. "Like what?"

Rufus snapped his fingers. "Green Acres!"

"Darn it, Rufus!" Ron cried, "Not that one!"

"Rawhide?" Rufus asked hopefully.

"No!"

"Brady Bunch!"

"For the love ofGod, NO!"

The Kimmunicator sang it's own song, interrupting the conversation. "What's the sitch, Wade?" Kim asked.

"I've got an update on the island," Wade stated, fingers tapping madly on a hidden keyboard. "The sheer volume of smoke is blocking visual surveillance, and several large fires have made thermal imaging all but impossible. However, I can confirm that no one has left the island by aircraft or by boat."

"Is this a good thing?" Ron asked.

Wade shrugged. "Beats me. But there's something else - ten minutes after the first explosion, a helicopter approached the island from the south."

Will frowned. "I thought you said that no one left the island?"

"I did," Wade replied. "The helicopter ditched in the water just offshore and sank. Nothing with sufficient resolution for an identification was in the area at the time, but one individual clearly swam to shore." He punched a few keys. "I'm attempting to get a better image from the video feed, but I won't be done with it before you get there. Sorry."

"It's okay, Wade." Kim sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed in thought. "If this person was an accomplice, he or she would have landed, wouldn't they?"

Will thought for a moment before replying, "Not necessarily. Could be another assassin, using the initial assault as a means to infiltrate the island undetected."

"Maybe he was just a really bad pilot?" Ron added hopefully.

Will shot Ron an unreadable look. "All that this means is that our suspect or suspects are most likely still on the island."

"I don't suppose we could call in the army or something, could we?" Ron asked.

Will shook his head. "I've requested backup, but the closest Global Justice team won't be in position for another hour and a half, at the earliest."

"Maybe we should wait," Kim mused. "We could be walking right into a trap."

Will smirked. "I'm confident that we'll be able to handle anything that comes up."

"I hope so, Will," Kim said softly, sinking down into her seat. "I hope so."

A soft chime sounded in the cockpit. "We're coming up on the island. We should touch down in a few minutes," Will announced, turning around and disengaging the autopilot.

"Please fasten your seat belts and return your tray tables to their upright positions," Ron said absently.

Kim sighed and looked out of the canopy. Seeing the column of black smoke rising into the sky, she couldn't help but frown.

"You alright, KP?" Ron asked softly, the worry evident on his face.

She smiled at him. "I'm fine, Ron. It's just... well... I've got a bad feeling about this."

He blinked. "Getting heebie jeebies is supposed to be my job, KP."

"I'll keep that in mind, Ron," she replied. The plane bucked, and Kim had to hold onto her seat to keep from being thrown against her seat belt. Ron, his own belt not fastened, bounced out of his seat with a wail and landed in a heap behind Kim's seat. "Try to get us there in one piece, Will!"

"Turbulence from the fires," he said simply. Turning to look at Ron, who was climbing back to his seat, Will added, "Stoppable should have taken his own advice. Fasten your seat belts and hang on. This is going to be a bit rough."

----

Kim surveyed the damage done to Killigan's castle and shook her head. "My God," she whispered.

The castle itself was nothing more than a shell of its former self, towering columns of flame burning in at least five separate places, thick plumes of smoke rising from the rest, merging into a single, massive cloud of blackness that blocked the sunlight, casting a dark pall over the entire island. The air was thick with acrid smoke and glowing embers, making it difficult to breathe. There wasn't a single tower that remained upright, and the outer walls were breached in several places. The sharp crack of shattering stone filled the air with a staccato thunder reminiscent of gunfire.

"What now?" Ron asked, coughing into his hand.

Will looked around. "We'll need to split up. If Killigan's still alive, we need to find him, fast."

"Ron and I will take the north," Kim volunteered.

"Then I'll take the south," Will countered. He pulled out a small device and handed it to Kim. "This is a secure comm. If you find anything..."

"You'll be the first to know."

Will nodded to the two of them, then turned and walked off.

"So..." Ron said, "We're just going to wander around the place until... what?"

"Until we find something," Kim replied.

Ron looked around nervously. "Or until something finds us."

Kim swallowed the lump that was trying to form in her throat and smiled reassuringly. "Just stick close to me, Ron. Let's go."

----

Will carefully worked his way through the collapsed remains of a small stone building, his eyes surveying the scene, looking for anything that might be of interest. The acrid clouds of choking smoke that were wafting through the ruins reduced visibility greatly, and he was all too aware that we was at a disadvantage should anyone attempt to ambush him. Of course, his Global Justice training and personal skills more than made up for any minor environmental effects.

A splash of crimson color amongst the ash and soot-coated rubble drew his attention. Reaching down, he gently touched the sticky fluid and rubbed a bit of it between his fingers. Eyes narrowing, he expertly picked out the trail of blood drops and smears that led deeper into the wreckage of the castle. He reached down to his belt, touched the comm unit strapped there, lips pursed in thought. He glanced at the blood on his fingertips, then shook his head and began cautiously following the trail, head turning to and fro as he looked for any signs of impending ambush.

----

Kim looked around as she walked, a pair of Wade's radiographic imaging glasses allowing her to see fairly clearly through the billowing clouds of acrid smoke. Despite the heat from the fires all around, her skin was crawling with goose bumps, and a leaden lump had settled firmly in her chest. She tried to shake off the nervousness, tried to tell herself that she was being needlessly worried, but her instincts were telling her otherwise.

Behind her, Ron's feet went out from under him and he fell roughly to the ground, a cloud of fine ash rising up around him. "Damn," he coughed.

Kim ran back to him. "Ron! Are you okay?"

Ron crawled to his knees. "I'm fine, KP. I slipped. Must've stepped on..." His eyes widened, "...something."

Kim followed his gaze and frowned. The ground was littered with a dozen or more small silver rods, each about an inch in length, the ends of each one discolored and partially melted. She picked up one of the rods and rolled it between her fingers. "What the heck is this?"

Ron shrugged. "Beats the heck out of me."

Rufus emerged from behind the charred remains of an overturned bookcase and held up an oblong object. "Fore!" he cried.

Kim reached out and took the object. "The head of a golf club," she muttered. She glanced back at the small silver rods scattered all over the floor. "Killigan was here."

"I hope he's in better shape than his club." Ron climbed to his feet and brushed at the ash that stained his pants. "Aw, man, I was hoping to go another day or so before I needed to wash these."

Kim held up the secure comm. "Will, we've found something."

Static.

"Will? Will, can you hear me? Will?" Kim exchanged looks with Ron and pulled out the Kimmunicator. "Wade?"

Wade's face appeared on the screen, which was criss-crossed with flickering black lines. "I'm on it, Kim. Seems to be a lot of interference in your area." Wade glanced to the side and tapped rapidly on his keyboard. "Looks like someone's set up a jamming system. Global Justice's secure comms only use a double system." He smiled proudly. "Fortunately the Kimmunicator uses a quadruple-redundancy system."

"Sounds to me like their secure comms aren't as secure as they think they are," Ron stated. "And they aren't nearly as stylish as the Kimmunicator."

Kim sighed. "Any idea what could be causing the interference?"

"Global Justice's comms should be able to penetrate the jamming without too much trouble. Which means that there's something else." Wade thought for a moment. "Only two things come to mind. One would be close proximity to an unshielded fusion reactor."

"What, we're gonna start glowing in the dark?" Ron asked. Rufus groaned.

Kim shook her head. "Somehow I doubt that Killigan has a nuclear reactor hidden anywhere around here."

"Granted," Wade acknowledged. "The other possibility is a high-output plasma generator. But he'd have to be pretty close for it to block his comm."

"Plasma..." Kim whispered. The killer. My God. "Wade, can you pinpoint Will's comm?" Kim asked

A flurry of keystrokes. "Not precisely, whatever's jamming his comm is blocking the tracking signal, too," he conceded. "But I can direct you to his last known position if you'd like."

"Please, and thank you." She turned to look at Ron. "Come on. Let's go find Will."

"Think he's in trouble?" Ron asked.

Kim hesitated. "I hope not."

----

The trail led Will down into the bowels of the castle, into long-unused dungeons beneath the now-destroyed central keep, to a large wooden door. A charred circle clearly indicated where the door's latch had once been. Pistol in hand, he cautiously prodded the heavy wooden door, which swung aside with the muted squeal of overstressed but well-lubricated hinges. Will wrinkled his nose as the smell of burnt flesh and body fluids became much more pronounced.

Within the darkened room beyond, something thumped on the floor.

He pressed himself to the wall beside the open door and cast a long look around the fire-lit hallway before pulling a small flashlight from his belt and snapping it onto his pistol. "Possible, this is Du. Come in," he said into his wrist-mounted comm. "Possible, come in." He pursed his lips. "Typical."

Taking a moment to steel himself, Will stepped away from the wall. He dove through the doorway, executing a perfect tuck-and-roll that carried him clear of the opening. Now crouched inside the room, he swept his light from side to side, quickly surveying the interior of the chamber. Long wooden racks lined the walls, racks that had once held row up row of pikes and lances and other medieval weaponry, but now served to store hundreds of golf clubs. A large pile of crates dominated the center of the room. One of them was broken open, revealing a large number of small white spheres within. Golf balls, he realized.

Armory, Will thought to himself, tightening his grip on his own weapon. Perfect place for Killigan to barricade himself. So, where is he?

Scanning the room again, his light illuminated a swath of tattered tartan on the far side of the mountain of crates. Quickly crossing the distance to the torn fabric, he gasped when he realized that the multi-colored cloth was part of Killigan's kilt, and that Killigan was still wearing it. What was left of him, at least.

Will spun around and raised his comm. "Possible! I've found Killigan! Possible, do you hear me?!"

Static was the only response.

"Damn it," Will swore. "Damn it!"

Behind him, Killigan groaned.

Will backed up a step, eyes widening. He couldn't possibly still be alive, could he? Mentally kicking himself for his moment of weakness, Will knelt down by the gravely injured Scotsman. Panning his flashlight over Killigan's shuddering form, Will grimaced at what he saw. Clothes torn and burnt, the flesh beneath similarly damaged. Left arm broken and twisted back against itself. Face ripped, chest torn, viscera exposed, and blood... so much blood.

Swallowing against the bile in his throat, Will leaned close. "My name is Will Du, Killigan. I'm here to help you."

Killigan's shuddering increased and Will feared that he was having a seizure. It was only after a moment that he realized that the hideous gurgling he heard was not a spasm, but laughter. Humorless, dark laughter.

"Aye, laddie," Killigan wheezed, "I remember ye'. Ye' stuck up bastaird, you were with her."

"Trust me," Will assured, hoping he sounded sincere. "I'm here to help. You're going to be fine."

"I'm dyin', ye daft bastaird," Killigan heaved a mighty wheeze, blood flecking his lips. "'Tis nothin' you can do 'bout it. We both ken it."

"I..." Will's voice faltered. Swallowing hard, he continued. "Who was it, Killigan? Who did this?"

Killigan groaned. "T'was that durn radje woman. Th' one ye' pal 'round wit'."

"Woman? What woman?" Will grabbed Killigan's shoulder, eliciting a hiss of pain from the dying man. "What woman?"

Killigan turned to face him and Will recoiled. Two glistening golf balls rested in the torn sockets where his eyes used to be. With a start, Will realized that they were actually Killigan's own signature explosive golf balls. "My God," Will whispered.

"It was her," Killigan gasped. "It was Possible."

Will averted his gaze. "Kim Possible?"

Killigan coughed. "Aye. The De'il himself, made flesh."

Impossible, he must be delirious. Will pulled out his field first aid kit, realizing as he did so that it was a futile gesture. "Stay with me, Killigan. Stay with me! Tell me, where'd she go? Where?"

A squeak behind him. Will's instincts flared to life and he spun around.

"Actually," said the figure that emerged from the shadows behind the door, "I never left."

----

Kim raced along the rubble-strewn courtyard, mindful of both the debris scattered along her path and Ron's labored breathing behind her. Glancing down at the Kimmunicator, she took note of the blip showing Will's last known location, as well as her own, and adjusted her path accordingly.

The icy grip that clutched her heart earlier had settled down to a dull ache, a deep-seated sense of dread of what she would find when she located Will. If I find him at all, she added silently. Still, the fact that she hadn't experienced any flashbacks, or visions, or whatever you wanted to call them, was a comfort.

"KP!" Ron called out, "Are (pant) we (gasp) there (wheeze) yet (puff)?"

She turned her head to look back at him. "About halfwa-"

She knelt down over Killigan's body, leaning close over his face. "Now, where were we, hmmm?"

Killigan, for his part, gave only a thin, high-pitched wail in response.

She smiled down and snapped her fingers. "Ah! I remember, now." Seizing his head with her left hand, she forced him to look at her with his new eyes. "This is for Jim," she hissed, reaching up with her right hand and forcefully flicking one of the golf balls, activating the built-in timer. "And this is for Tim," she said, repeating the action with the other ball.

"I dinnae want t' die," Killigan whimpered.

"Neither did they," she growled. Dropping Killigan's head back to the floor, she rose and quickly walked over to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at Will, who was lying prostrate on the opposite side of the room. "Enjoy the show, Will. And say hello to me when I get here. Ciao!" With that, she exited the room and pulled the door shut behind her.

Kim tumbled to a stop, only her natural agility allowing her to avoid bashing her head on a large rock as she did so. Even so, it was a painful landing, and she cried out in pain as her knees dug into the hard ground.

"Kim!" Ron shouted, sliding to a stop beside her. "Kim, are you okay?"

Should've known it was too good to be true. She gingerly climbed back to her feet. "I'm fine. Thanks, Ron."

"What happened? You were running along, and then you just sort of..."

"I tripped," she replied. "I guess I-"

A muffled THA-WHUMP sounded in the distance.

Kim's eyes widened. "Will..." she breathed. "Oh, no." Kim motioned for Ron to follow her. "Come on!"

"Wait, KP, couldn't I just take a breather for a minute?"

"No time, Ron." The Kimmunicator chimed and Kim held it up. "What's the sitch, Wade?"

"Will's comm is clear. I've got a positive lock on his position."

"You rock, Wade." Kim turned to the comm. "Will? Will, can you hear me? Will?!"

Rufus peeked out of Ron's pocket. "Oh, no," the rodent intoned softly.

"Come on, Ron," Kim said, using the tracking signal on the Kimmunicator to orient herself.

"Okay, okay," Ron replied, inhaling deeply. "Let's go, before I pass out or something."

They crossed the courtyard without any further trouble, passing through a large stone archway into what looked like a series of long, rectangular rooms, attached along their long axes by enormous, open double doors. Fires ate at the draperies and paintings that lined the walls, filling the rooms with a multi-layered pall of reeking smoke. The wooden floor was blackened in spots, streamers of smoke rising from numerous places, adding to the clouds that permeated the entire area.

Kim took in the scene quickly, evaluating the potential dangers. "Stay near the walls, Ron, in case the fires have weakened the floor."

"You got it, KP."

She had just reached the far side of the room when the floor beneath her feet shuddered, something below giving way with a tremendous CRACK. "Ron, watch out! The floor!" she cried, leaping high into the air, diving for the door.

Ron, who was right behind her, tried to imitate her move but lost his footing. He fell to his knees as the floor heaved, buckled, then fell away.

Kim reacted instantly, turning in mid-air and stretching out towards him, knowing he was out of reach but trying anyway. "RON! NO!"

"KIM!" Ron cried as he plummeted into the darkness below.

----

End Chapter Six

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