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.
Ron let the Team Possible van roll to a halt a few blocks away from Healey Labs while Kim studied the place through her binoculars. They had approached the fenced in complex from the back side, which gave them a good view of Trevor Healey's personal workshop. Exactly what was contained therein was a mystery, since Healey was either foresighted enough, or paranoid enough, to have shielded his lab with lead or a similar dense substance. Whatever it was, it almost completely blocked Kara's x-ray vision. She had been unable to see anything more than vague shapes within the building.
Fortunately for Kim and Ron, Healey's paranoia was limited to the lab itself. Kara had been able to make out every detail of the main machine shop, as well as the tunnel connecting the two structures. She had also seen a second tunnel, much larger than the first, that ran from the lab to a truck garage a quarter mile away. There was a high capacity elevator at each end, and in the garage at least, an overhead crane with a 50 ton capacity. The Kents had been astounded by that discovery. Everyone in Smallville knew about the access tunnel between the shop and the lab. That tunnel had been dug at the same time the lab was built, and had been the subject of a great deal of gossip, mostly about Trevor Healey's eccentricities. Kim agreed with Jonathan's comments that the tunnel was a waste of money, since a simple covered walkway would have done the same job at far less expense. Always assuming, of course, that Healey's only reason for the tunnel had been to avoid the weather while walking between the main shop and his lab. The large tunnel was a mystery. Kara believed that it was newer than the lab, and Jonathan was sure it couldn't have been a pre-existing structure that Healey had stumbled across, for the simple reason that he had lived in Smallville his whole life and had never heard even a single rumor about old tunnels or underground chambers. The unanswered questions of when the large tunnel had been built, and how it had been put in without anyone in town noticing, would be saved for later.
Kim put down her binoculars and turned her attention to the map Kara had sketched for them. She and Ron had decided to gain access to the lab by breaking into the main shop. The lab itself had no windows and only one door, a twelve by sixteen foot overhead type that was shielded like the rest of the lab. The was no question of opening it without Kara's help either, since it lacked any external controls and weighed, at Kara's estimate, nine and a half tons. They had also ruled out the large tunnel. The garage end of it was well covered by alarm systems and was supposed to be a secret. Kim and Ron thought that if anything went wrong, Healey would be more likely to get personally involved with a break-in there. If something went wrong in the main shop however, Healey might dismiss it as a run-of-the-mill crime and let the police handle it.
"Let's review the plan Ron," Kim said quietly. Ron turned his attention to her. He said nothing, but his expression was attentive. "We cut the lock on this old gate and park the van here, between this old shed and this pile of junk," she said, indicating the spot on the map. "That should hide us from casual observation. We'll gain access to the roof of the shop from this loading dock, then to the shop itself through one of the skylights. After I deal with the alarm, we'll take the tunnel to the lab and see if we can get into it." Ron nodded. "Let's get our gear and get busy then," he said.
The two quickly donned knife-proof vest and helmets with built in communications and low-light vision systems. Kim added a wide belt heavy with tool pouches. Ron eyed the small arms locker.
"Guns?" he asked.
"I'd rather not," Kim said, frowning slightly. "Still, we'd be wise to take some weapons. Make 'em non-lethal though." She slid a truncheon into a loop on her belt and tucked a half-dozen flash-bang type stun grenades and an equal number of sting balls - grenades filled with half inch plastic spheres instead of lethal metal fragments - into the pockets of her vest. Ron followed suit. When they were ready Kim took the wheel while Ron grabbed the bolt cutters from the tool box.
The van, its head and tail lights out, nosed up to the long unused back gate. Ron jumped out and in seconds had the lock cut off. It took him a bit longer than expected to open the gate, rust and weeds making the job difficult. It seemed to take forever, but at last Ron had the gate open enough for Kim to ease the van through. As he hauled he gate shut again, Kim backed the van into its hiding spot.
Minutes later they were on the roof of the machine shop, peering down through a skylight over the main entrance.
"There's the alarm control panel," Ron whispered, "Right where Kara said it would be." He laid a hand on Kim's arm. "Remember K.P., when we drop down the motion sensors are going to pick us up, and the alarm will go into standby mode. You'll probably have thirty seconds and three tries at the combination before it goes off."
Kim grinned back at him. "Don't sweat it Ron. I'm a natural at this stuff, remember?"
Ron feigned deep emotion. "Great Aunt Mim would be so proud of you," he choked, wiping away an imaginary tear."
The skylight wasn't wired into the alarm system. Given Trevor Healey's penchant for extravagant spending that was a bit of surprise, but Kim wasn't going to complain. Working quickly she cut a hole in the pane nearest the latch, then reached through and unlocked the skylight. Ron anchored their ropes, then helped Kim open the heavy skylight. A few seconds later they were on the shop floor. Kim crossed to the alarm control panel. She dusted the keypad with a brush and powder from a pouch on her belt, then shined an ultraviolet light on it. A wide grin split her face. Like all too many people, Healey and his employees had failed to take the elementary precaution of wiping the keypad off after they used it. The luminescent powder, clinging to the skin oil each touch had left behind, showed which keys had been pressed last: one, two, four and nine.
"We'll try his birth year first," Kim mused aloud as she pressed the buttons. She frowned. Nineteen forty-two hadn't worked. "Ok, his birth year backwards." Twenty-four ninety-one did the trick. The display switched from 'Alarm Tripped' to 'Alarm Off', and Kim sighed in relief.
Healey's offices were locked, both the outer office where his secretary worked, and his own inner office. Kim decided that the locks were more to keep out curious or nosey employees than anything else, because they were ordinary residential pin-tumbler locks. Neither one of them took her more than a minute to pick.
Healey's odd paranoia reared its head again in his office. The entrance to his private tunnel was hidden by a false wall panel, the control for which Kara hadn't been able to find. Kim and Ron spent several long minutes searching and trying possible triggers, without luck. Kim was examining an electrical outlet nearby when Ron's eyes happened to fall on a small bust on Healey's desk. A light bulb went off in his head. "No way," he said aloud. Kim stood up and looked at him, then followed his gaze to the desk, and the bust. Realization dawned. She glanced back at Ron and shrugged. "It's worth a shot," she said. Ron reached out and twisted. William Shakespeare's head tilted back to reveal a hidden switch. Ron pressed it, and the wall panel slid aside to reveal a short flight of stairs. "Guy watches too much television," Ron muttered.
The tunnel itself was bare concrete, lit by harsh fluorescent bulbs. At the far end a heavy steel door with a single small window waited for them.
This was going to be a challenge. Kim examined the door. It was at least two inches thick, maybe more, with a sophisticated electronic lock. Fortunately the lock was a common commercial type. 'Let's see if Healey's made another common mistake,' she smirked silently. Many combination locks came from the factory with a preset combination that most owners didn't bother to change. Unfortunately for the owners, said preset combination tended to be the same for each model of lock, and if a potential thief knew the standard combination...Kim consulted her Kimmunicator and punched in a ten digit code.
The lock's readout displayed the words 'Access denied'. "Damn," she swore softly.
"Trouble Kim?" Ron asked. He sounded worried. Waiting while in hostile territory always made Ron nervous. Kim gave him a reassuring smile. "This may take a while Ron. You'd better relax."
"Easier said than done, I'm afraid," he replied, but he grinned too. Kim pulled a screwdriver from her tool belt and started to remove the lock's faceplate.
They had a long wait. It had taken Kim less than five minutes to open up the lock mechanism, disable the combination retry limiter, and plug in her Code Cracker, a small but fast and powerful computer whose sole function was to try every combination that could be put on the lock. The lock used ten digit codes, with ten available characters per slot: a mere ten billion possible combinations. The Cracker could put a million different combinations per second on the lock. At which rate it would only take two and three quarter hours to try them all. Almost two hours of that time had crept by, the silence broken only by the quiet whisper of the ventilation system and the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights.
Kim glanced at the Code Cracker. It had tried almost seventy-five percent of the combinations. Kim forced herself not to sigh in frustration. The odds of not hitting the correct combination on the next try were much less than fifty-fifty now, and shrinking at an ever increasing rate. 'Always expect it to take the full time,' she reminded herself. 'Be patient.' A slight sound drew her attention. Ron had shifted his position a little, but his eyes remained focused on the other end of the tunnel. Kim hid a smile. Ron had changed a great deal since he'd joined Kim in her crime fighting adventures. The skinny, awkward, food obsessed, easily distracted fourteen year old boy he'd once been was gone. Kim gazed at him fondly. Ron had grown six inches and packed on thirty pounds of hard muscle, and if he wasn't as agile as Kim, he wasn't clumsy anymore. He still loved to eat, of course, routinely putting away twice as much food as Kim did. 'Not surprising,' she told herself, 'since he weighs twice as much as I do.'
Out of the corner of his eye, Ron caught a glimpse of Kim looking at him. He cocked his head and turned his eyes to meet hers. "What?" he asked. Kim smiled, even as her cheeks heated with embarrassment. "I was just thinking that you've hardly moved a muscle in two hours, Ron. When did you get so disciplined?" Ron threw Kim an amused grin. "I dunno," he answered. "I guess it just sort of happened. People change, you know," he added. Kim nodded back. "Yes," she said, almost wistfully, "People do change."
The Code Cracker beeped. Its tiny display read 'Combination found'. Working quickly Kim restored the lock mechanism to its original configuration, then entered the number the Cracker indicated. A loud clack echoed in the tunnel. Kim tried the door latch. It moved easily, and the door swung in as she pushed it.
They paused at the top of the stairs. Healey's lab was almost pitch black, the few light sources being too weak to overcome the darkness. "All I see on IR is machines," Ron reported in a barely audible whisper. "No sign of life. Shall I turn on the lights?"
"May as well," Kim replied. Ron's hand went to a nearby bank of switches. Moments later the vast cavern of the lab filled with hard, blue-white light. And a cavern it was. Machine tools and other equipment lined the walls, but the center was empty save for a steel framework that might have been a machine in the first stages of construction.
"See anything suspicious?" Kim asked.
Ron's eyes were examining every nook and cranny of the lab. He shook his head slightly. "No. But then, I'm not sure what we're looking for."
Kim nodded in silent agreement. "Let's find a computer. Maybe Healey has something in his files that will be useful."
Wade, working through the Kimmunicator, made short work of the PC they found, and it proved to be a gold mine. There were many references to a client referred to only as 'MF' ("I wonder who that could be," Kim had asked, nudging Ron in the ribs. He had smirked back "Could it be...Monkey Fist?" Then his face had darkened. "It's only circumstantial though."), but nothing that unambiguously linked Healey to Monkey Fist. 'MF' had ordered, and Healey had built, a three stage rocket capable of putting a five ton satellite in a high polar orbit. In his notes Healey mentioned that the satellite itself was being provided by a third party, 'D', who had also provided Healey with 'invaluable and fascinating technical assistance' as well as an offer of further assistance with Healey's own projects and even employment by 'D' himself.
"Drakken?" Kim wondered aloud. "Still in prison in Greece, Kim," Wade provided.
Ron stiffened suddenly, and Kim felt surge of anticipation. There was a flash behind them, and a rumble like thunder. Whirling, Kim and Ron saw a glowing ring that seemed to pulsate and throw off ghost images of itself. The ring faded quickly, leaving an all too familiar form, surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of other all too familiar forms, in its place.
"Monkey Fist! But how...?"
Monkey Fist bowed slightly and chuckled. "Do you like it?" he asked amicably. "They call it a 'Boom Tube'," he added. Fist's face contorted into an expression of pure rage and hate. "But as far as you're concerned, you can call it a Doom Tube!" he shrieked. Fist's arm shot out, a trembling finger pointed straight at Ron and Kim.
"Monkey ninjas, attack!"
