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.
It must have been a wonderful thing, being able to fly. The thought echoed in Kim's mind as Kara lifted her and Ron up the side of the Lafferty Building. No ropes, no jet packs, just yourself, free to move in any direction, independent of machines. Kim sighed, prompting a glance from Kara.
"Something the matter, Kim?"
Kim shook her head slightly and favored her platinum blonde friend with a small smile. "Just a little frustration at having our vacation interrupted," she lied. Kara nodded knowingly, and Kim turned her attention to the building. She hated being jealous of anyone, because, she reminded herself, jealousy was an emotion for insecure people, which she definitely wasn't.
Kara stopped her assent and frowned. "Is this the right floor?" she asked. Kim frowned as well. She'd been counting the floors as she and Ron climbed, but realized that she'd lost count after Kara showed up.
Kim gave herself a mental kick and shook her head. "I'm not sure," she confessed. "I kind of lost track."
When Kara turned to him, Ron only shrugged. "I was letting K. P. keep track of that."
"Oh well," Kara grinned, letting herself and her charges drift back from the building. Kim started counting down from their current level, and was somewhat surprised that Kara started counting from the ground up. When she finished Kara turned to Kim and said, "One more to go?"
"That's what I get, too," Kim agreed.
"Right then," Kara said firmly, moving up and forward.
The sight that presented itself to the trio was perfectly ordinary. An office, sparsely furnished, presently unoccupied, but with the lights on. The room to the left was another office, that to the right a storage room for files. Both were dark. As she looked through the window, Kim began to frown. There was something about the scene that was...wrong, somehow.
"Is it just me, or is there something weird about that office?" Ron asked quietly.
"Definitely something weird," Kara said slowly, tilting her head to one side.
"It looks..." Kim paused, groping for an adjective. "Flat," she finished in a puzzled voice.
Kara moved in closer, rising a little as she did so. "It is flat!" she exclaimed. "Look. Someone took cardboard cutouts of office furniture and put them up to make a forced perspective set. It's only a few feet deep!"
As their viewpoint shifted Kim could see the sticks holding up the two dimensional desk and chair. Behind it all was a picture of a generic office wall, blown up to life size. A quick check showed that every window on the forty-first floor was backed by a similar artificial scene.
"From a distance, with only a casual glance, you'd never know this wasn't real," Ron proclaimed.
"I'll bet most people never look twice at it," Kara agreed.
"Someone went to a lot of effort to do all this," Kim reasoned, "and it must have been done to hide what's really going on here." She gave Ron and Kara a speculative look. "I wonder what's behind it?"
"I'll have a look," Kara offered. She turned her eyes toward the building. Kim watched expectantly, and was a little disappointed that there were no obvious signs of Kara using her x-ray vision, though that was almost certainly what she was doing.
Kara scowled. "Marijuana. Thousands of plants. It's a damned greenhouse."
"What about the forty-second floor?" Kim asked. Kara's eyes flashed upward.
"That too."
"I guess we know what Killigan is doing in Metropolis," Kim said quietly.
"Growing the wacky tobaccy," Ron agreed lightly. He frowned. "Doesn't explain why he tried to kill us, though."
"I have a feeing we'll find the answer to that question inside," Kim said. She glanced at Kara.
"Roof?" Kara asked.
"Please and thank you," Kim grinned.
The access door was set in a square concrete shed that stood higher than the rest of the roof. Aside from the stairwell, it appeared to house the ventilation system and the elevators as well. The door was locked, of course.
"Allow me," Kara said, stepping forward.
"Supergirl, wait," Kim said, raising a hand. Kara paused. "Alarm," Kim explained.
"I didn't even look," Kara admitted with a slight blush.
"Ron, if you would?" Kim invited.
Ron quickly examined the door and its frame. "Just a proximity sensor," he declared. "Easy money." From a pouch on his belt he produced a small piece of sheet metal backed with two-faced tape. Peeling off the protective backing, Ron eased the piece into the gap between the door and the frame header. When it was securely in place over the sensor he stepped back with a grin.
"All yours," he proclaimed grandly, gesturing at Kara, who smiled and stepped forward. She took hold of the handle, paused , and looked thoughtfully at the door.
"What's the matter?" Kim asked anxiously.
"Nothing," Kara said absently, "I was just thinking." She turned and smiled again. "Since we're being subtle and all..." She took hold of the latch again and gave it a sudden, sharp twist. There was a muffled snapping sound as the lock broke. Kara opened the door easily. "There you go," she grinned. "Nice and quiet."
They went down to the forty-first floor, bypassing the forty-second because Kara said it was deserted.
"How many are we up against?" Kim asked, putting her hand on the door's knob.
"Six," Kara told her.
"Killigan?"
Kara shook her head. "Two of them are in a little room that has shielded walls. I can't see them well enough to make out any details."
"I guess we'll just have to hope for the best," Kim shrugged. She turned the knob and pulled. The door didn't budge. "What the..?" She tried again, frowning at the door. "It's a fire exit, hinged on this side, and it isn't locked," she muttered. "So why won't it open?"
"Welded shut from the inside," Kara grimaced. "Not very smart."
"How so?" Ron asked.
"Cuts off an avenue of escape, if there was a fire." Ron wasn't sure, but he thought Kara shivered a bit.
"I guess the time for subtlety is over," Kim conceded, stepping aside. "Supergirl?"
"I'm going to push it down to the floor," Kara warned them. "Go right over top of me." Kim and Ron nodded.
"We'll take the left, you get the right," Kim suggested. Kara nodded.
"Here we go."
One shriek of tearing metal later the door was down and Kim and Ron jumped into the indoor garden. Purple light from hundreds of grow lamps gave the whole scene an eerie cast. Benches covered with flower pots were neatly arrayed in all directions. The crop must have been young, because the plants were only a foot or so tall, but at least that made it easy to see the whole floor. Square concrete load bearing columns were the only other obstructions that Kim could see. She also saw three men in coveralls, who were staring at her in absolute shock. Snarling, she charged them. They scattered. One of the men seized a flower pot and threw it at her. Kim ducked and launched herself into a flying kick that hit her enemy in the chest. He careened backward, gasping for air. Kim closed and swung her fist in a vicious haymaker. Shafts of pain lanced up her arm as her knuckles crashed into the man's jaw, but he went glassy eyed and slumped to the floor.
Shaking her hand, she searched for a new target. Ron was working on two guys, one from Kim's original three, the other a stranger. She felt a presence behind her and whirled. The third man had a pistol leveled at her head from less than ten feet away.
The shot thundered in the cavernous greenhouse. Kim reeled backward, falling into a row of pots, clutching at her face.
After a moment she realized that, while her face stung from the muzzle blast, and her ears rang, she wasn't dead. She opened her eyes and saw why. A slender arm, tipped by a white gloved hand, was between her and the gunman. The hand opened, and Kim caught a flash of silver as the bullet that should have killed her fell to the floor.
"It isn't nice to point guns at other people," Kara said flatly. The gunman stood numbly while she reached out and, with her thumb and forefinger, pinched the pistol's barrel shut.
"That's better," she observed smugly. The gunman sagged, and let the pistol slip from his hand.
"Fine, you win," he muttered dolefully.
"That's it?" Kim asked, standing up and brushing herself off. "You're giving up just like that?"
The man shot her an incredulous look. "Are you an idiot or something?" he asked, bitter sarcasm coloring his words. "It's Supergirl, for Christ's sake. We got zero chance against her, so why waste the time?"
Kim glanced around. The two men Ron had been fighting were meekly allowing him to handcuff them. Two more were sitting near the stairwell door, trussed up like Christmas turkeys. Kim turned to Kara, who fidgeted uncomfortably.
"You could have taken them all by yourself, couldn't you," Kim said softly. Kara flushed and looked away.
"Well, yeah," she admitted. She turned back. "You could have too, though," she declared defensively.
"Maybe," Kim allowed. "These guys are smarter than most of the goons I fight. At least they know when to give up," she added, grinning slightly. "Don't mind me," she told Kara with an apologetic smile. "I'm just used to being the rescuer, not the rescuee." Kara grinned in obvious relief. "And thank you, Supergirl, for saving my life."
"No big," Kara declaimed modestly.
The shielding on the small room turned out to be by accident rather than design. Apparently it had been built as a strong room for storing valuables, and when the floor had been converted to a greenhouse, the vault was turned into an office. Duff Killigan's office, to be exact, complete with files and a networked computer. While Wade worked on cracking the computer's security, Kim and Kara rifled through Killigan's paper files. Ron, poking through the desk, found a piece of paper taped to the bottom of a drawer. It had two things written on it: 'dUfFkillIGan' and 'A1eF43VgH7'. Ron held the piece up. "User name and password?" he asked, grinning smugly.
That was exactly what they were. Once inside Intergang's network, Wade had found reams of valuable information, mostly limited to Intergang's drug operations, and some other tidbits that were deeply disturbing. When Lieutenant Sawyer arrived with her Special Crimes Unit to take charge of the situation, Kim had handed her two slips of paper. One was a list of the locations of all of Intergang's marijuana farms in the metro area, including independent contractors. The other had the names of twenty-four members of the Metropolis Police Department who were also Intergang moles. Sawyer had gone white as she read down the list, not least because one of the names belonged to a member of her own team, a man she had hand picked in the belief that he was utterly loyal and absolutely trustworthy.
"Twenty-four cops," Sawyer read tonelessly. "Six firefighters. Two in the Mayor's Office. Four in the DA's Office. Five on the Riker's Island staff. Two on the parole board!" Her voice rose a bit. Sawyer shook her head a crumpled the list. "No wonder we could never get ahead of them," she said bitterly. "They knew our plans as soon as we did."
"They used to," Kim allowed, trying to console the older woman. "Now we have the inside track. What say we use it?"
"I'm game," Kara said cheerfully.
"Count me in," Ron added enthusiastically.
Sawyer looked up. If she was feeling any grief, it didn't show. Anger and determination were the only emotions her face displayed. "Hell yes!" she snarled. "I'm going to shove this list so far up Bruno Mannheim's ass, it'll come out his mouth." She turned to her men. "Saddle up," she snapped. "We've got work to do."
