Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. Supergirl and all related characters and indicia are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

Kim walked into the room she shared with Ron to find that he'd already changed in to his 'mission togs' - black, rubber-soled boots, green cargo pants, long sleeved black shirt and gloves, and was going over their equipment, carefully checking each item before restowing it in their backpacks. She saw that he had laid her own clothes out on her bed.

"How'd it go?" he asked, not looking up from his work.

Kim sighed and began to unbutton her blouse. "Not well," she confessed. "Mom was totally freaked. I thought I'd never get her calmed down." Kim shrugged off her blouse and tossed it on the bed. "Dad finally made her take a Valium. I didn't even know she had those!" She unzipped her skirt and let it slide down to the floor.

"That's pretty freaked out," Ron agreed. "But I can understand it. I mean, it's not like you ever told her about all the other times people have tried to kill you, so it must have been quite a surprise."

"I suppose so," Kim allowed, kicking off her shoes and picking up her own cargo pants. "I guess I should have been more honest with her and Dad from the get go."

"Well, they would have found out sooner or later. At least you weren't hurt this time," Ron observed as he closed a backpack and set it aside.

"Tell me about it," Kim said forcefully. "She'd have lost it for sure."

"Is it safe to turn around yet?" Ron asked.

"Just a second," Kim said, hurriedly pulling on her shirt. "Okay, all set."

Ron turned and handed Kim her backpack. "There ya go, K. P., you're all set."

Kim did a quick inventory of the bag. Ron had packed it exactly the way she preferred. 'He's getting meticulous in his old age,' she thought, suppressing a grin. She took out her grapple gun and gave it a quick check. Not that she expected to find anything wrong, of course. Knowing Ron, he'd been twice as careful with her gear as he'd been with his own and, as expected, the grapple gun was in perfect order. He was watching expectantly, and Kim smiled at him. "Lucky for us we brought this stuff along," she quipped.

Ron snorted. "Luck? Pfft! Habit," he corrected, and Kim laughed. He was right. Kim had packed her mission gear without even thinking about it, and Ron had as well. Donning the pack, she jerked her head at the door. "We'll try the location in Lexington Heights first," she said, referring to one of Metropolis' outlying commercial districts.

"That's halfway across the city," Ron groused. "How are we gonna get there?"

"Easy, we'll take a taxi."


"Are you out of your mind?" Bruno Mannheim's words cut like a lash, and it was all Duff Killigan could do to keep from flinching. It would have been better if he'd been shouting, Killigan decided. Definitely better. But Mannheim, as usual, hadn't even raised his voice.

"Nay, Mr. Mannheim," Killigan denied. "Kim Possible is m' arch foe. When I saw that she was in Metropolis, I figured she was here for me, so I took steps to eliminate her."

"By 'figured' of course, you mean 'assumed'," Mannheim corrected. "And thanks to your clumsy, poorly thought out termination plan, whatever Kim Possible was doing here before, now she will be after you."

"Aye, sir."

"Duff, Intergang has two basic rules that all of its members are required to know and live by. I thought I'd made them clear to you, but in case I didn't, I'll repeat them. The rules are: one, never act without a carefully thought out plan, and two, never, ever draw attention to yourself or the organization." Mannheim shook his head slightly. "If you can't internalize those concepts Duff, well, I'm afraid I'll have to let you go."

It took all of Killigan's willpower to keep from trembling. For lackeys and underlings, dismissal from Intergang usually came with an invitation to leave town by a specific date. For lieutenants like Killigan, who knew enough about Intergang's activities and operations to be serious security risks, dismissal was always fatal.

Killigan straightened. "I understand, Mr. Mannheim."

Killigan wasn't absolutely sure, but he thought Mannheim was surprised by his calm reaction. The dark haired man sat back in is expensive leather chair and studied the Scotsman from beneath thick, bushy eyebrows. At length he spoke.

"All right. We'll chalk this up to a mistake. But Duff, I want you to be absolutely clear on this: this is the only second chance you're going to get. Do you understand that?"

"Aye, Mr. Mannheim. No more screw ups."

"Good. Now, as for dealing with the present situation: you're going to lay low for a few weeks. You'll return to your quarters and stay there, while we lay down a smoke screen for Ms. Possible and the police. Then we'll arrange for you to be seen in another part of the country. That should draw Ms. Possible away from Metropolis."

"We could also arrange for the 'word on the street' to be that someone else attacked Possible, using Killigan's methods, to hide their own identity." The suggestion was made by Mannheim's deputy, a man Killigan knew only as Gillespie, who had been standing discreetly to one side. Mannheim nodded.

"Good idea, Gillespie. Get Duff undercover, and make the rest of it happen."

Gillespie nodded once and led Killigan from the room.


Kim handed the cab driver a twenty and smiled. "Thanks for the ride Eddie, keep the change."

Edward Perkins smiled back, shiny white teeth contrasting starkly with his ebony skin. "No problem, Kim, I've been a fan of yours for years." Ron chuckled quietly as Kim blushed a little. Even after everything she'd done, Kim still had trouble believing that she had fans, even after she'd seen the web sites devoted to her. "Would you like me to wait?" Eddie inquired, hopefully, Ron thought. Kim thought about that for a moment, eying the towering high rise that was Team Possible's first objective of the evening. She shook her head.

"Nah. We don't really know how long we'll be, but thanks for offering, Eddie."

Eddie nodded, a little disappointedly, though whether that was because he wouldn't be able to hang around and see what happened, or because of the lost revenue, Ron couldn't tell. Then the cabbie brightened. "Well," he said, producing an eight by ten glossy photograph of Kim, "Can I get your autograph for my daughter? She'd kill me if I didn't get it."


"Ok," Wade explained. "Killigan, or someone enough like him to be his twin, has been seen going into the Lafferty Building eight times in the last few months."

"Which floor?" Kim asked.

"The forty-first."

"Any details?" Ron put in.

"The Lafferty Building is owned by Lafferty Systems, Incorporated, and the forty-first and forty-second floors are leased by Balmoral Recovery Technologies. Both of them are suspected Intergang front companies."

"Intergang?" Kim asked, surprise coloring her voice. Intergang was one of the biggest organized crime outfits on the East Coast, second only, perhaps, to the Gotti Family of New York.

"Intergang," Wade repeated with a nod. "Balmoral is a new company, only a few months old, and the name fits Killigan's MO."

"Huh?" Ron asked, frowning in confusion. "That name fits how?"

Wade sighed. "Balmoral is the name of an estate owned by the British Royal family. It's in Scotland."

"Ah!"

"Access?" Kim inquired.

"The floors Balmoral rents are accessible only by someone with a special key to the elevators, passenger and freight, otherwise they won't stop there. Also, I ran across a rumor..." Wade paused, frowned, and went on, "And it's only a rumor, understand," he emphasized, "that there is a second, private freight elevator that serves only those floors, and leads to a private area of the parking garage."

"Sounds a trifle suspicious," Kim smiled. "I suppose that if Intergang owns the building, they own the guys at the security desk too?" she asked. From where she and Ron stood they could see into the building's lobby. Anyone wanting to use the elevators would have to pass the security desk, which was crewed by two men.

"You suppose correctly," Wade confirmed.

"Well," Kim said, eying the side of the building, "I guess we'll have to take the long way. Ron, break out your climbing gear."


Ron pressed the button that released the suction cup in his right hand and moved it up a couple of feet. After testing its grip, he pulled himself up and repeated the process with his left hand. He paused briefly to catch his breath and looked down. That was a mistake he regretted instantly. He and Kim were at or near the thirtieth floor, more than three hundred feet above street level, and the only things keeping them from falling to their deaths were the suction cups they carried in each hand and wore at each knee. The glass shell of the building offered few hand holds, and fewer places to put anchor ropes. Not that they were using any. Ropes, Kim had said, would attract too much attention, so they weren't an option. "Don't look down," he muttered to himself. He loosened the right suction cup again, moved it up, and brought it down on the upper of a red leather boot. Ron stopped again while his brain tried to figure out what a boot was doing stuck to the side of a building thirty floors off the ground. It was so odd that it left him bemused. It occurred to him that the boot was a left one, and he glanced to his own left in search of its right counterpart. Sure enough, a second red leather boot was about two feet away, in line with the other. Ron's eyes rose, past red laces, to the tops of the boots. Legs emerged from them. Shapely legs, he noted absently, that disappeared beneath the hem of a very short blue miniskirt. The skirt itself, flanked by white-gloved hands, gave way to a flat, muscular stomach, then a white cropped tee-shirt emblazoned with a stylized red 'S' and filled with a very nice pair of breasts. Finally he found himself staring into bright blue eyes. Long, platinum blonde hair hung down past a face that was trying hard not to smile.

"Something wrong with the elevator?" Kara asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Kara!" Ron exclaimed. She wagged a finger at him.

"Supergirl when in uniform, please," she corrected, smiling. "Hello Ron, hello Kim," she added, glancing between the two.

"Hello, Supergirl," Kim returned with a smile of her own.

"So," Kara said, her voice and expression turning serious. "I suppose you have a good reason why you're climbing the outside of a skyscraper in Metropolis at night?"

"We do, actually," Kim answered. "We think Duff Killigan has a lair in this building."

"Killigan? I hadn't heard that he was in town."

"I hadn't either," Kim said dryly, "Until he tried to kill us today."

"Kill you!" Kara exclaimed. "When? Where?"

"At our hotel, a few hours ago. He sent us a bomb."

"How did I miss that?" Kara said, frowning in wonder. She shook her head. "Never mind." She pitched forward like a diver, doing a mid air twist and stopping behind Kim and Ron. She held out her arms. "Grab hold," she commanded. Kim and Ron complied. "Which floor?"

"Forty-first, please," Kim grinned.

Kara grinned right back. "Express elevator, going up."