The Fallen Chapter 4: The Players Revealed, a kim possible fanfic

"What is truth?" - Pontius Pilate, John 18:38

Part 4: The Players Revealed

Chapter X: The Battle on the Rooftops

Rufus had left Ron's pocket when Heinrich appeared, and scurried up to his owner's shoulder. That perch was quickly vacated when the faux-GJ sniper had shot Heinrich dead. Ever since, the naked mole rat had clung to Ron's shirt at the small of his back, digging through his belt pouches for something that could help.

"Global Justice?" the man said with a laugh, then raised his rifle. "My dear, there is no Global Justice in Europe. We are Panther. I must admit, I am impressed; the ruckus that the two of you have raised has been enough to draw Concolor's personal interest. He considers you to be worthy opponents, but I doubt he'll complain if we get the kill."

Rufus found what he'd been looking for, and quickly passed the flash-bangs to Yori. They were another one of Wade's inventions, each a small sphere about two centimeters in diameter, containing a highly concentrated compound of phosphorus and magnesium, along with a pressure-activated ignition system. All that the user had to do was squeeze and throw.

Rufus had handed Yori five of the spheres.

"Wait just a-" Ron began to say, but the man cut him off with a gesture. The other double agents raised their own rifles and aimed them at Ron and Yori.

Yori began to squeeze the spheres.

"Kill them," the man ordered.

Yori threw the activated spheres into the air.

"Duck, Stoppable-san!" Yori cried.

Ron took a quick guess at what she had in mind, decided that there were no waterfowl involved, and threw himself to the ground, his hands shielding his eyes. Whether they were covering his eyes due to having intuited Yori and Rufus' plan, or because he didn't' want to see death coming, he would never say.

The spheres reached a height of ten feet above the ground before they exploded, and then the alleyway was filled with the light of five momentary stars.

He heard the burst of the spheres and saw the white flash through his pressed hands, and quickly rose to his feet when they faded. Ron raised an eyebrow and gave Yori an appreciative look when he saw the men, who had intended to kill him, staggering about blindly. As he helped Yori to her feet, they heard the leader of the hit squad radioing for reinforcements.

"C'mon, Yori, let's go," Ron said, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the other end of the alleyway. He drew the hairdryer as they ran, and took aim at the edge of the roof on one of the buildings. He fired, and the hook embedded itself in the wall.

Yori threw her arms around his neck, Ron wrapped his other arm around her waist, and Rufus hung on for dear life as the winch in the hairdryer hauled them to the rooftop.

She stepped out of her former subordinate's office and leaned against the wall. Her body shook as her mind struggled to assimilate the information he'd given.

"We are GJEUR."

She had been so sure that it was nothing more than a taunt, but he'd repeated it after the truth serum kicked in. She'd probed further; trying to find the extent of the infestation, and Craven had seemed almost gleeful as he told her.

'One hundred men,' Dr. Director thought, her hand shaking as she held the paper on which the list had been written. 'Only one hundred loyal men on this continent, five of which are in this base. Only five…'

"Ma'am?"

It was one of the agents she'd brought over from America.

"Yes, Agent Smith?"

"Ma'am, Ocelot Blue is complete," he stated. "We have complete control of the base, and all local GJEUR personnel are in custody."

"Thank you, Agent," she said, trying to muster a smile as she handed him the sheet of paper. "Here, find the five people on this list and bring them to me."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, taking the paper. "These five the miscreants?"

"No, Agent," she said with a sigh, "they're the only ones who are on our side."

"Blessed bovine," the agent said quietly.

"Anything else, Agent?"

"Yes ma'am," he said quickly. "We got a call in from GJAMN headquarters. Apparently Panther tried to attack the Load residence. We're taking care of it now."

Global Justice bases were standardized in layout, so she was able to find her way from Craven's office to the control room fairly quickly. The information about the attack on Wade had reminded her that she had other assets in Europe, and that she didn't know where those assets were.

She placed a call to the line that Kim had given her years ago.

"Oh, hey Dr. Director," Wade said distractedly. "What's up?"

"Wade," she said without preamble, "where's Ron? Is he with anyone?"

"He's with… a friend, and they're in Paris," he said, and then raised an eyebrow when he saw Dr. Director turn pale. "Why? What's up?"

"We don't have anyone in France."

"What are you talking about? Last count was you had twenty teams in France, with five of those in Paris alone."

Dr. Director bowed her head and began to massage her temples. Europe had been a headache for a few years, but she hadn't known the extent. Apparently neither did Wade, despite the disturbing fact that he did know their troop deployments. But she didn't dwell on that.

"Wade… we don't have any friendly assets in France. At all."

Wade just stared at her for a moment, through the video link, and then quickly moved back behind his computer and began working the keyboard.

"The friend is Yori, a teacher from the Yamanouchi School, so tell your men not to shoot her. I'm sending you the tracking frequency for the chip I stuck in Ron," he said quickly. "Your satellites should be able to track it."

"Send it to the base in Hameln, Wade. If you know where our agents are, you should know how to send it here."

"You're in Germany? That would explain why I couldn't get you when I called headquarters."

"Europe has it's own Panther problem, but I think you're figuring that out. Wade, I'm issuing an order to put your parents in protective custody. They'll be safe with GJAMN. You I need here. GJ will fly you into Hameln."

"Right… at least I'll have a fully operation computer set again. One of the goons put a few rounds in my system."

"Hopefully we'll be up to your standards," Dr. Director said, wishing she could have laughed even as she said it. "We'll be waiting. Dr. Director out."

She shut down the feed, and then transferred the tracking information to the satellite control station. One of her men was working the computer now, and he quickly reset the nearest tracking satellite to lock in on the frequency and display the results on the main view screen.

A map of Paris resolved on the screen, a single red dot representing Ron and Yori as they fled across the rooftops of western Paris. A group of twelve green triangles was chasing them, running behind but quickly catching up, and a second group of twelve was approaching Ron from the north, and positioned to intercept.

"Are those what I think they are?"

"Ma'am," one her technicians said, "those are Global Justice transponders." He'd heard her comment to Wade, all of them had heard, and all knew what that meant.

"Will," she said, turning to her aide. "You said you wanted some fieldwork… take ten men, the fastest jet here, and get to Paris. We'll provide telemetry."

Will Du nodded and quickly chose his team, and then left the control room, headed for the hangar bay. Dr. Director turned back to the map of Paris and watched the progress of the pursuit even as a great feeling of trepidation settled on her.

The flash-bangs had bought them time, but hadn't stopped the pursuit. The men they'd faced in the alley had recovered quickly, and it hadn't taken them long to find the grapnel and figure out which building their quarry had used for egress. Ron and Yori were only three buildings away by the time the chase began again.

Still they ran, for nearly twenty minutes, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, occasionally swinging across the wider streets, but never stopping. Ron had grown considerably in strength, skill, and stamina, and unlike in their long ago trek through the Amazon was able to keep up with Yori during their flight. Yet for all that, the enemy continued to gain on them.

It seemed strange to Ron to consider men from Global Justice as the enemy, to have to run from their uniform, to have to dodge the bullets from their guns. They'd assisted each other in the past, and GJ had even once considered him the secret to Kim's success. He'd let himself get a big head at that one, though the ego stroking hadn't hurt his opinion of the organization. For so long he'd considered them to be allies in the continuing fight against megalomania.

But, he reflected as another shot sparked on the roof beneath him, for so long he'd believed that Kim would never lose, and then he'd seen her defeated and in a death grip. It seemed to be a time for challenging preconceptions.

He continued to run, the ever growing sound of footfalls behind him spurring him on. Yori was beside him, her face one of fierce concentration. She saw the problem they had, that soon their pursuers would be upon them and there would be no more chance to run. Ron knew they couldn't let themselves loose, as they were the only ones who had heard Heinrich's last words. They were the only ones who knew where Concolor was going.

England. That was all it could have been. Somehow, Ron and Yori knew, they needed to figure out a way to survive, and make use of that information

However, neither Yori nor Ron had any chance to think of a plan, for a bullet caressed Ron's right thigh, drawing a line of crimson blood on his leg. The glancing blow caused him to stumble and fall, rolling and skidding across the rough surface of the roof. Yori had ran several feet on before she noticed that he'd fallen, but a flurry of shots kept her from him and forced her to duck behind an outcropping on the roof.

They both noticed the second group approaching, this one heading directly towards Yori's position.

The enemy commander split his team into two groups, one to cover Yori and the other to cover Ron, while he himself slowly crossed the final few meters towards Ron's prone form. By the time he'd got there Ron had pulled himself into a crouch, though he was clearly favoring his right leg.

"You should have stayed away, Mr. Stoppable," the man said coldly. "This ends now."

Ron watched as the man aimed his pistol at his head, and he knew that it was the end for him. Yori was ten feet away, and pinned down by gunfire. Global Justice, the other allies he'd thought he had in Europe, were actually working with Panther, and now one of them was going to put a bullet in his head, and he would never see Kim again, and no one would be left to search for her.

At that thought, the realization that he would never see his beloved again and that the search for her would die with him, that she would be forever lost, a violent anger began to burn in his heart. It was what he had begun to feel at Alfeld, what had tempted him in Heinrich's office, and what he had only felt twice before in his life. The second time had been during the final confrontation with Drakken and Phillip Sparks.

The first had been in the world headquarters of Bueno Nacho, when he'd charged Erik, thinking that the synthodrone had killed Kim. That time the dark angel had reburied itself when Shego had interrupted his attack, and then had resurfaced when he'd faced Erik down in the command center.

The angel again spread its charcoal wings deep within in his heart, and whispered to him.

This time, he listened, and the dark angel that bore his face filled with a purpose and with strength.

'No one will stop you from saving her.'

He sprung up from the crouch, just as he had all those years ago against Erik. The delivered blow was identical, a flip kick delivered to the chin, intended to be a coup d'mort to the target.

Erik had been a synthodrone, and as such had not been wounded by the blow. The enemy before him was flesh and blood, and fell backwards and collapsed in a heap, his neck twisted at an impossible angle. He would never move again.

The dark angel vanished, and Ron stood and stared at the body.

'I… I killed him…'

There was no more time for him to contemplate this, as the other GJEUR agents had recovered from the shock and had begun firing at him again. He tried to run for Yori's position, but his right leg just wasn't working right, and then other bullets were grazing him, opening wounds on his arms as well as his leg.

Then one last round pierced his abdomen, and he fell to the ground with a cry of pain and frustration. The enemy stopped firing then and began moving towards him, his low profile to ground killing their shooting angle, and forcing them to close and engage. Yori took the break in fire to run towards him, to try and help him up and run. He tried to tell her to go, to leave him there and keep up the search, but the words didn't come.

She took up a fighting position, prepared to defend her friend to the last. The enemy just laughed.

The screams of a hypersonic jet engine pierced the night air, and a Global Justice aircraft swooped above them. It made one pass and then came around again, transiting thrust control from the engine to the hover pods. Searchlights projected from the craft and illuminated the traitorous GJEUR agents, along with the second group from the north, and Ron and Yori.

"This is Global Justice Agent Will Du," a familiar voice said over the craft's loudspeaker. "Throw down your guns and surrender now."

The traitors aimed their rifles at the craft and opened fire. The GJ aircraft, it's crew not in any mood to play nice, deployed a series of 20mm Vulcan cannons and cut down the first group with merciless fire. Two missiles, set to airburst detonation, decimated the second group. The ship came to rest above Ron and Yori, and the last thing that Ron remembered before he fell into unconsciousness was the sight of Yori kneeling next to him, calling his name, and the silhouette of Will Du sliding down a rescue line.

"This ends now."

He sprung up from the crouch, just as he had all those years ago against Erik. The delivered blow was identical, a flip kick delivered to the chin, intended to be a coup d'mort to the target.

The scene reset. The GJEUR agent was above him, gun pointed at his head.

"This ends now."

The mortal blow replayed itself in his mind again and again, never ending despite the words of the turncoat. It wasn't constant, though; interspaced within the event were glimpses of the inside of an aircraft, the lights of an emergency room and the faces of doctors, and the faces and voices of his allies, Wade and Yori.

And Kim. Her face was ever in his mind, the memory of her voice and her touch reminding him of why had killed the man who'd tried to kill him.

Why he killed... had he really just taken a life just so he could see her feel here touch, and hear her voice, again? Was that what, who, he was becoming?

He wanted to wake up, to escape the terror of the vision, but he couldn't.

"This ends now."

"Ron…"

There was a new voice.

"Ron, wake up. C'mon, Ron, I can hear you moaning, it's time to wake up."

He awoke with a moan, and opened his eyes to see Wade standing over him.

"Wade? Where am I?"

"You're at Global Justice headquarters, in Hameln," Wade explained.

"Global Justice-"

"Yeah. Turns out GJEUR had a Panther infestation, but don't worry. Dr. Director is here now. We can trust her, Ron."

"I'll take your word for it," Ron grunted and sat up, wincing as he felt the sore spot in his abdomen. "How long was I out?"

"Three days. Man, when you zonk, you zonk, though I suppose the drugs they shot you up with helped. They've got a pretty good medical setup here, patched you right up."

"Yori…"

"She's fine, Ron. Right now, she's in the control room with Dr. Director, going over some intelligence."

"I need to see them, Wade. We know where Concolor is going."

"So, you're saying the Phoenix didn't know how to kill when it was in Vienna?"

"That is correct, Dr. Director," Yori replied. "You can tell from the type of blows it strikes, and the way it fights, that the Phoenix did not yet know how to deliver a killing blow. The forensics from the later attacks, and… from Shuu-san, suggest that it is slowly learning."

"Great. So now Panther has something that can out-fight seven outposts worth of GJ agents, and one of your students, and soon it won't need someone following it to finish off the targets," Dr. Director said with a quiet sigh.

"But why these bases, though?" Yori asked. "There were other bases in the cities, and even some in Paris. Yet it did not touch those."

"That's the easy part, Yori," Dr. Director replied. "The bases it left alone were staffed by Panther infiltrators. Craven was segregating the loyal agents from the traitors, and then feeding the information to Panther so they could cull GJEUR."

"The Uriah Scenario, then," Wade said as he walked into the control room, Ron trailing behind him.

"Stoppable-san!" Yori said, glad to see him moving again. She moved to his side and hugged him, and he smiled at her in reply.

"Okay, that settles it," Dr. Director said to Wade. "Not only do you know where our agents are, but you also know the code-words for our internal situations. When this is done, my Information Security chief is going to have a very, very, long talk with you."

Wade laughed and looked down, somewhat embarrassed.

"Ron," Dr. Director continued. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Thanks, Doc," he said quietly. "What's going on here? I was just chased, through Paris, by agents of Global Justice, and I want to know why."

"They weren't Global Justice, they were Panther," Dr. Director said sadly. "Panther bought out Vice-Director Craven years ago, along with much of GJEUR's upper echelon. Most of the agents were either bought out or killed, and nearly all of our European recruits for the past two years have been Panther plants. Europe is one big mess, Ron."

"Tell me about it," he said dryly. "Has Yori told you what we found out?"

"That Concolor was headed for England? Yes, she has."

"And…" he said, knowing he wouldn't like the answer.

"And we haven't been able to do a thing about it," she answered reluctantly. "You have to understand, I've got an entire continent to clean up. When we arrived here, there were maybe a hundred loyal agents left, and that number is dwindling as word of our little coup gets out. I need every agent I have to weed out the Panther infestation here, and I don't have any agents to send on what is likely a wild goose chase."

Ron did not like that answer at all, but before he could say what he was thinking, Yori had gently touched his arm and started speaking.

"Dr. Director, you do have two agents whom you can spare," she said quietly and patiently.

"Who?"

"Us," Ron replied.

"Ron, you're in no condition to-"

"Doesn't matter," he said in reply. "I've come too far, and done too much, just to stop now. Concolor knows what happened to Kim, the only lead we have places him in England, and I'm going."

"And I will go with him," Yori stated. Dr. Director looked at them both and then shook her head, either remembering her younger days or just marveling at their stubbornness.

"Heinrich was probably playing you, but I doubt I could stop either of you even if I wanted to. Fine, we'll provide transportation into England, and Wade can coordinate with you from here. Do we need to arrange a base of operations for you, or-"

"Do not worry, Dr. Director," Yori said, surprising everyone. "I will take care of that."

Chapter XI: Masquerade

Ron was unusually quiet during the flight from Hameln to London. Even Rufus seem subdued, as whatever excitement the thought of closing in on Concolor would have brought was being held back by something else. Yori suspected what was going on in Ron's mind, but did not wish to discuss it on the plane or in the airport.

The driving time from the airport to their destination was another story.

"Stoppable-san," she said hesitantly. "About what happened… in Paris…"

"I killed a man, Yori," he said quietly, with no inflection or emotion in his voice. "He was going to kill me, so I killed him instead. The whole time I was down and out, that was all that was going through my head, all that I could see."

"You had never killed before, then?"

"Never," he replied. "Came close twice. First time was against a synthodrone, so that didn't work. Second time, I had to stop and save Kim. This… this was the first."

"You did what you had to, Stoppable-san," she said. "If you had not, then it is likely that we would both be dead now."

"Yeah, I know," he said, allowing some emotion into his voice, though she had no idea what that emotion was. "Doesn't make it any easier to swallow, though."

"Nor should it, Stoppable-san. Ah," she said, turning off of the main road. "We are here."

"Where's here?"

"This is the Japanese Embassy, Stoppable-san. The Yamanouchi School is known here, and the Ambassador has agreed to help us."

The help offered by the Ambassador wound up consisting of a place to stay, full access to the Embassy grounds, and a blank check for anything that they would need. Ron was curious about the degree of cooperation, and also about the identity of the ambassador, but other things were on his mind and so he did not ask. Besides, he'd never been one to pass up a free lunch.

He'd spent the day in his room, just allowing his mind to ponder the past few weeks, specifically what had happened one dark night in Paris. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get himself to feel anything about that night, not regret, not even grim satisfaction. There was nothing there, just a cold, empty space in his heart, and the memory of the dreams from the past three days.

That emptiness was disturbed him the most, and the fact that he was unmoved had bothered him during the entire trip from Germany to England. That was the emotion that had entered his voice during the car ride.

The thing of it was, while a part of him wanted to regret killing the man, the rest of him knew he shouldn't. As Yori had said, he'd had no choice.

Sometime just before sunset, Yori came into his room and tossed something on the bed next to him. He rolled over as Rufus walked over to inspect it.

"What's this?"

"Your tuxedo, Stoppable-san," she said with a smile.

"Okay, see, I know we're in England and all, amongst the diplomatic circles, and it's supposed to be all fancy and formal here, but why do I need a tuxedo?"

"Because the Ambassador has arranged for us to be on the guest list of a reception at the Palace, and you need to look your best."

"A reception? At the palace? As in, "house of the king and queen" palace?"

"Of course, Stoppable-san," she replied with a laugh. "What other kind of palace would there be?"

"Huh. How did we score that?"

Despite his misgivings, and the fact that he had to leave Rufus behind (a formal reception at Buckingham Palace was no place for a naked mole rat, no matter how anthropomorphic), Ron finally agreed to go. They had a target in London, a warehouse identified from the Alfeld data, but they wouldn't be able to hit it until well after midnight, and a party at the palace would be a better way to pass the time than just sitting in his room. The Ambassador also said he wanted them there to introduce them to a few people who could help in the search for Concolor, which made it a worthwhile diversion for that reason, and was ultimately what convinced Ron to go.

So it was, then, that he found himself being escorted down the halls of Buckingham Palace, dressed in a fine black tuxedo, with Yori by his side, wearing a black floor-length evening gown and black gloves. The escort brought them to the primary receiving hall and showed them in, but did not announce them, much to their relief. Yori quickly picked out the Japanese Ambassador and led Ron over to him. His back was turned to them, but something about him looked familiar.

She walked ahead of him and spoke the Ambassador, then turned back to Ron.

"Stoppable-san," Yori said, "may I introduce you to Japan's Emissary to His Majesty's Government, and a fellow graduate of the Yamanouchi School, Ambassador Nakasumi-san."

The Ambassador turned to Ron, who realized that he had, indeed, heard Yori correctly.

"Dude, no way," Ron said with a grin.

"It is good to see you too, Mr. Stoppable," Nakasumi-san replied. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"So do I. How did you score this gig?"

"Japan is ready to take it's place in the world as a force of good," Nakasumi-san replied, "and who better to represent that to the West than a toy maker who was trained as a ninja?"

"Dude, you went to the Yamanouchi School?"

"Ninjitsu can come in handy during board meetings," Ms. Yoshiko said as she walked over to stand next to Nakasumi. "Good evening, Mr. Stoppable. We are both very sorry about Ms. Possible."

"Ms. Yori has informed me of your purpose here," Nakasumi-san said to Ron, "and we stand ready to help you in any way needed."

"Which is why I'm here?"

"Of course. I hope to be able to introduce you to the heads of MI-5 and MI-6, and also your American Ambassador and the head CIA station chief. A chat with the Israeli Ambassador would also be worthwhile, I believe."

"Yeah… that's a lot of important people here," Ron said, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "What's the sitch?"

"The reception, you mean? It is for Lord Richard DeLong, recently returned from a tour of continental Europe," Nakasumi said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial level. "It known that he is a close personal friend of His Majesty, and that he also has the ear of the Prime Minister. Somehow, though, he's managed to keep himself out of the public eye and maintain a very private life. Not all are comfortable with a cipher having an unknown amount of influence on the Primer Minister, though."

"I see," Ron said with a nod. "What was he doing in Europe?"

"It is a very sad story. His sister and her husband were killed in a car accident last month. They were living in America at the time, and left behind a daughter, who had been studying at Yale. When Lord DeLong returned from the funeral, he had his niece with him. They left England a few days later, traveling to Vienna in a private jet, understandably wanting to get away for a while."

"His niece?" Yori asked.

"Yes, a girl named Karen Pellman. The press was kept away from them, so no one has seen her yet. While she was here, she remained inside the DeLong mansion. It's understandable, the poor child, having lost her family like that…"

"I know what you mean," Ron said softly.

"I suppose you do, even better than I," Nakasumi-san said gravely, then noticed something at the door. "Ah, he's arrived."

Nakasumi-san motioned for them to turn around, and Ron caught his first glimpse of Lord Richard DeLong. He was an older man, late fifties it appeared, but powerfully built, just exceeding six feet tall. His face was lined and looked somewhat harsh, though Ron could tell that he could put on a charming smile if he ever wished, was likely kind, if stern. His eyes were sunken deep and narrow, and Ron thought that something was hidden behind them. He had a large forehead, and brown hair and eyebrows, and his tuxedo was similar to Ron's, except with a vest, and his hands were gloved in white. He greeted the door warden warmly, having apparently attended enough of these events to develop a familiarity with the man.

Then he looked behind him and motioned for someone to come in. His smile became warm and affectionate, and his mouth moved as if he was coaxing in someone shy.

"This must be Ms. Pellman," Nakasumi-san whispered to Ron.

Ron nodded in reply. He could not see through the door itself, the angle was wrong, so he didn't see her until she'd entered the room. When she did, it felt like his heart would snap in two.

Karen Pellman was only five foot six, petite and lithe in form and figure. She was adorned in an ankle length sleeveless blue dress, and high-heeled slippers. The dress was low cut, but did not reveal enough to be tasteless. A single sapphire hung from her neck, suspended by a thin silver chain.

Her hair was red, and her eyes were green.

"Oh, my God," Ron whispered in shock, his heart pounding in his chest. Time seemed to have frozen in place, yet he felt his feet start to move, trying to carry him towards her.

'KP…'

Then a hand wrapped itself around his arm and restrained him.

"Contain your passions, Stoppable-kun!" Nakasumi-san whispered urgently. "You must wear a mask today, my friend."

"You see her, too," Ron said quietly, "don't you?"

"Yes, I see her. You must make your heart ninja; do you hear me, Stoppable-kun? Until we know what this means, you must put a mask on your face and on your heart, do you understand?"

He paused for a moment, and then nodded, listening to Nakasumi-san's words and trying to calm himself. His heart rate returned to normal, and so did his perceived flow of time, and he even managed to grab the emotions that were swirling in him and hide them away from view.

"Yes, I understand, " he said, turning to face Nakasumi-san, his face now empty of the earlier confusion and shock. A mask of placid acceptance had fallen over his features. He would hide his heart until he knew for sure.

"Good, because they are coming this way. Ms. Yoshiko, Ms. Yori, stand to my left. Stoppable-kun, stand to my right. We must play this carefully."

Lord DeLong had caught sight of Nakasumi, and his entourage, and had begun to make his way to them. The girl known as Karen Pellman followed behind him.

"Ah, Ambassador Nakasumi-san," DeLong said jovially when he reached them. "It's good to see you again."

Nakasumi turned and whispered in Ms. Yoshiko's ear, then shook Lord DeLong's hand.

"Ambassador Nakasumi-san says that it is good to see you too, and wishes to extent his sympathy to you and your niece for your recent loss."

Ron stood and watched, examining every feature of Lord Richard DeLong, trying to keep the coldness from his eyes.

"We thank you for your courtesy, Ambassador," Lord DeLong said gravely. "Ms. Yoshiko I remember, but I do not believe that I've had the pleasure of meeting your other two companions."

"This is Ms. Yori," Ms. Yoshiko told him. "She is a recent graduate from Ambassador Nakasumi-san's old school, and will be interning with us for a time."

"A pleasure, Ms. Yori," DeLong said gallantly, taking her offered hand in his and giving it a light kiss.

"The same, Lord DeLong," she said quietly.

"And this is Mr. Stoppable. He is an old friend of Ambassador Nakasumi-san, and is here on the Ambassador's invitation."

"Stoppable, Stoppable," DeLong said as he shook Ron's hand. "Ah, yes! You must be the famous Ron Stoppable."

"I am," Ron replied.

"Excellent. I have long wanted to meet you, Mr. Stoppable, as it is not often that we have a genuine hero amongst us. Please, accept our condolences for the loss of your partner, Ms. Possible. The world lost a great champion that day, but I realize that the loss was more… personal for you."

"Thank you, Lord DeLong."

"What brings you to London?"

"Business," Ron replied.

"Oh? Someone is threatening the world from here? Or is it more personal than that?"

"Just business, Lord DeLong," Ron said with finality.

"I see. Again, it was an honor to meet you, Mr. Stoppable, and please, feel free to find me if you need anything. I may be able to help you."

"No, the honor was all mine, Lord DeLong," Ron said quietly, shaking the man's hand again. "And believe me… if I need your help, I'll come looking for it."

"I would not have offered if I expected otherwise," DeLong said in the same quiet tone, then turned animated again. "But where are my manners? You must forgive me, I am not used to having to introduce others. Ambassador Nakasumi-san, Ms. Yori, Ms. Yoshiko, and Mr. Stoppable, may I present to you my niece, Karen Pellman."

Karen stepped up and shook hands with each of them in turn. It was all Ron could do to keep from saying something, as her grip even felt the same as Kim's.

"It is fortuitous that I found you here," DeLong was saying. "Ambassador Nakasumi-san, His Majesty has a matter of state that he wishes for us to discuss. It would be best if we could do so in private, so perhaps Mr. Stoppable could… take my niece in hand?"

'No, please no…'

Ron's discipline held, he gave no outward sign of discomfort, but Nakasumi knew what he was feeling. He also knew that he had to keep up appearances.

'Be ninja, Stoppable-kun,' he thought, and then nodded.

"Perhaps Ms. Yori would care to accompany us?" DeLong suggested. "Please, I insist. It is nothing classified, and a discussion such as this would be good experience for her."

Nakasumi acquiesced, for he could not deny the request and maintain their cover; and so Ron was left alone with Karen Pellman. Not for the first time in his life, he had absolutely no idea what to do.

"So…" he said hesitantly.

"So… should I call you Ron, or Mr. Stoppable?" she asked.

"Uh…" he replied, feeling his brain start to seize up. "Ron'll do, Ms. Pellman."

"Karen, please."

"Uh, sure."

"Do you want to sit down?" she asked with an amused grin.

"Uh, sure, sit down… heh-heh, yeah…"

"Are you always this nervous around girls?" she asked as they sat at a nearby table.

"Just around ones I don't know," he replied.

She laughed, and Ron tried to relax. Her face, her voice, and her body… it was all just too close to Kim for him to be comfortable, but somehow he became ninja, and reigned in his heart and kept his reactions under control. After a time they started chatting, her telling him stories of her tour of Europe, and him regaling her with such thrilling tales as the invention of the naco, and several of the missions he and Kim had undertaken. She complemented his skills as a storyteller, informing him that he made her feel like she had actually been there.

He had just begun to grow comfortable when the musicians (a small string quartet had been providing background music) changed from an arranged pop piece to a classic waltz. Several of the people in the room began dancing together, and soon the whole room was moving. Karen gave Ron a mischievous look (she found him slightly weird, but likeable), and Ron simply cleared his throat nervously.

"Tell me, Ron, do you know how to dance a waltz?"

"I am a bomb diggity dancer," he said, with some pride.

"I'll take that as a no," Karen replied dryly. "Come on, then, I'll teach you."

He had no time to protest before she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out to the dance floor. She showed him how to hold her, and then began leading him across the floor. In a short time he'd picked up on the steps, and then Ron found himself leading Karen in the dance, and actually enjoying it. For a time, as they danced, he let himself forget everything that happened; all the sadness and pain and regret he'd been dealing with faded in the simple enjoyment of the dance. For a brief moment, he let himself believe that it was Kim he was dancing with, and not her doppelganger.

He let himself slow, as that belief filled him. How he'd longed for another moment like this. How he'd longed to feel her arms around him, and his around her, their faces inches apart as they danced and soared across the floor. Tears began to fill his eyes as he realized just how much he'd missed her.

"Kim…" he whispered, looking her in the eye, the tears beginning to fall. For a moment his mask failed, and love and longing were written in his eyes.

"Kim? Who's Kim?" Karen answered, and then the spell was broken, and Ron stood there, a look of shock on his face and tears on his cheeks as he held a very confused girl in his arms.

"I… oh man, I'm sorry, I…" he said quickly, turning away and disengaging from the dance, and then rushed out of the room to the balcony. He could hear her coming after him, but he didn't stop until he'd reached the railing.

'What was I thinking?'

"Ron," Karen said as she stepped out after him. "Ron, what's the matter?"

"I never did tell you why I was here, did I?"

"No," she said, confused as to why he was mentioning it. "No, you didn't. You didn't even tell my uncle."

"I'm looking for someone," he said, not facing her, just staring out over the city. "Someone… very dear to me is missing, and I'm trying to find her."

"And this person is… 'Kim'?"

"Yeah. You… you remind me of her," he said, choking back what he wanted to say. "And when we were dancing…"

"You started to think I was her."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I must've offended you."

She walked up to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Had he turned to look, he would have seen her smiling at him with compassion.

"Ron…" she said gently. "So not the drama."

She meant well, but that was the wrong thing to say. Ron stiffened, and fought hard to contain the sobs that threatened to burst out of him like a torrent. He wanted her to go, but couldn't bring himself to start speaking. Another voice, though, provided the out.

"I think I hear my uncle," Karen said, her hand still on his shoulder. "I should be getting back inside."

Ron nodded sharply. Karen didn't take offense, knowing that something had opened a wound in him. Instead, she squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

"I'm glad I met you, Ron Stoppable," she said warmly, and then turned and went inside. She found Lord DeLong quickly; he and Ambassador Nakasumi had returned to the room while she and Ron were outside.

"Ah, there you are my dear," DeLong said. "I trust Mr. Stoppable kept you entertained?"

"He did, uncle," she said quickly, deciding to keep what Ron had told her secret.

"Where is he?" Yori asked.

"He's on the balcony," Karen replied, motioning towards the opening. Yori turned to look and saw Ron bending over the railing, his shoulders and chest shaking from quiet sobs. She shot Nakasumi a look, and then went out to him.

"Stoppable-san?" Yori said quietly as she walked out on the balcony. He was doing well at keeping quiet, as she couldn't hear him crying in the room, but outside it was obvious. She walked up and stood next to him, and gently rested a hand on his arm.

"It was her, Yori," he said through the tears. "I know it was her, she's so close, and I can't even-"

His own tears cut him off. Yori stood there, watching him cry… and then she was no longer a ninja, she was his friend and a woman; and she snaked her right arm through his, and wrapped her left arm around his shoulders, and stood there and held him as he cried. No words were shared, for there was nothing she could say. She simply held him close and let him cry.

It was the best thing, the only thing, she could do.

Chapter XII: Phoenix Rising

The reception ended around midnight. Lord DeLong and Karen returned to the mansion a half-hour later, both very tired. DeLong's new butler, a lean fellow named Joseph, greeted them at the door. He'd only been on staff for a year, but had already gained his employer's trust, and had quickly formed an alliance of sorts with Karen.

"Welcome back sir, madam," he said as they walked in. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

"We did, Joseph," Lord DeLong said with a yawn. "I seem to have enjoyed myself a bit too much, so I shall now retire, and dread the headache that will come tomorrow. Good night Karen, Joseph."

They told him good night as he ascended the stairs towards his quarters. When he was out of earshot Karen leapt up and gave Joseph a great hug.

"Oh, thank you for convincing him, Joseph," she cried.

He laughed and patted her on the back.

"A young lady such as you should not be cooped up in a house such as this," he said heartily. "I hope that with everything that's happened, you were still able to enjoy yourself?"

"Of course," she replied. "I also met the most fascinating person."

"Tell me about it tomorrow, madam," he said, gently touching her arm and pointing her towards the stairs. "It is well after midnight, and I think you need sleep as much as the master does."

It was the same dream she'd had ever since she'd arrived at the manor.

She was standing, naked, in a large, grand hallway that was lined with pine wardrobes. In these wardrobes were the clothes she recognized from her past, from her dresses as a little girl to the pants and shirts she wore as a woman, they were all there, the glass doors of the wardrobes revealing them to her.

At the end of the great hall was another wardrobe, this one made of dark oak, strong and powerful, it's knobs and handles made of solid iron, and it's doors of solid wood. The trimming depicted scenes of struggle and war, epic battles of heroes against villains and would-be tyrants. As in each of the prior dreams, she walked towards the wardrobe.

When she was five feet away from the mysterious wardrobe, a great bird appeared in front of her. It was the color of fire, as high as the great ceiling, and the span of its wings filled the width of the hall. It stood there and stared at her, and burst into flame when she drew close to it. The flames formed a circle around it, filling the hall, and blocking her way to the unopened wardrobe.

She shielded her eyes against the fire, and wondered how she would get around it. Even as she wondered the bird flared again in a sudden burst of noise and light, and then she was flying backwards down the hall, and the dream turned to darkness…

"I'm telling you, Yori, it was her," Ron growled as they ran through the London streets. He'd recovered at the party, and had held his emotions in check throughout the rest of the night. Nakasumi-san had agreed that what had happened merited further investigation, but he agreed with Yori that they needed more information.

So it was, then, that Ron and Yori made their way towards the Panther-operated warehouse along the Thames. The party had ended an hour earlier, and they had quickly changed from eveningwear to their mission clothes.

Rufus they'd left asleep at the Embassy.

"You do realize what that would mean, Stoppable-san?"

"Yeah, it means that Lord DeLong is working for Panther, or maybe he's Concolor himself! So why are we going here instead of checking him out?"

"Because we promised Dr. Director that we would," Yori said reasonably. Ron muttered something that Yori didn't want to bother trying to make out, but then they were at the warehouse, and there was no more time for disagreement. Ron pointed towards an open window, and then winched himself and Yori up to it with the hairdryer. This warehouse, thankfully, was deserted, filled only with crates.

"Well, this is a nice change of pace," Ron said as he dropped from the windowsill to the floor.

"Be wary, Stoppable-san," Yori advised as she joined him. "I sense a trap."

"Right. But we might as well check the crates anyway."

They found a pair of crowbars and set to opening up the crates. The first few contained the usual stocks of rifles, hand grenades, and RPG units, but a few contained thermite charges and white phosphorus grenades. However, in the fifth box Ron opened, he found something that stopped him cold. In the box were a few pieces of equipment, but it mostly held blueprints. One, in fact, was a very familiar set of blueprints.

"Yori," he called out. "I think I've found it…"

"Found what, Stoppable-san?"

He looked at the blueprints of the mega-weather-generator that he, turned evil as Zorpox the Conqueror, had designed. There was only one person, besides him, who would have had access to these.

"Drakken's Legacy," he whispered, and then leapt aside as he perceived something flying through air towards him. He rolled across the ground as it impacted with the crate, the blow shattering the wood into many pieces.

The dark form of the Phoenix raised itself up from the wreck, and turned to face him. He entered into a fighting stance, and hoped that Yori could get to him before it moved again.

No, it was too fast, and the Phoenix attacked him again, each blow intended to be a fatal strike. Each blow he parried, for he found that knew the fighting style of the Phoenix intimately.

Yori watched them fight, wondering why Ron only blocked and turned the blows, but woud never riposte. His blocks and dodges were brilliant, almost precognitive to her eyes, but he never attacked. She tried to get into a position to join the fight, but they were moving too fast.

She watched the Phoenix leap at him again, intending to drive a foot through him. Ron grabbed its leg and turned its momentum to his advantage, throwing the Phoenix across the room. It twisted in midair and fired a grappling line at him, which wrapped around his wrists. Then the Phoenix planted its legs on the floor and stopped its flight. With a great tug it jerked Ron off his feet, swung him through the air and sent him crashing into a stack of boxes.

Yori took that moment to attack. The Phoenix dodged her first blow, a leaping attack, but that was a grandiose feint, and the real attack, a kick to the Phoenix's right side, connected and sent it crashing into another stack of crates.

It was up in flash, attacking Yori with a series of punches and kicks, each of which she dodged and returned with her own attacks. None of the attacks connected, and Yori gave ground until she was backed up against a large crate, and then the Phoenix reared its right arm back and aimed a punch at Yori's head.

At the last moment Yori twisted away, and the Phoenix embedded its right arm in the crate. Yori stepped away and regarded the Phoenix as it attempted to break free. After a moment, she nodded.

"So, you have finally learned how to kill," she said softly. Then the Phoenix was free, and attacking again, and Yori knew she was in trouble. It had become the ultimate killing machine, an elemental force of driven skill, but acting only on an instinct to fight, and now a learned ability to kill. There was no conscience, no morality restraining the blows, for the Phoenix was driven by another's will.

She could see multiple styles represented in its attacks, but she couldn't count how many there were, and it could use in the all in ruthless combinations. One of those got through her defenses, and connected with her chin. She flew up into the air and back, landing five feet away from where she'd been standing. She rolled over and looked up, only to see the Phoenix leap into the air and descend, its right fist poised to cave in her skull.

Then a line came through the air, and wrapped itself around the Phoenix's legs, and then Ron Stoppable used the Phoenix's own grapnel to haul it away. It crashed into the wall and fell stunned to the floor. It recovered quickly, but by then Ron and Yori were side by side, and providing a united front against it.

The Phoenix rose to its feet and faced them, ready to fight again, but the will that commanded it had other ideas. Ron and Yori heard what sounded like a man's voice coming from the right side of it's head, whispering an unknown command, and then the Phoenix retreatedout one of the windows. They did not pursue, knowing that it would be long gone by the time they got outside, and would not leave a trail.

Ron and Yori took deep breaths and looked at each other.

"The Phoenix," he said.

"Yes. It is very skilled," she replied. "I counted at least twelve different styles."

"Sixteen," he corrected, his voice going quiet.

"Stoppable-san?" she asked, confused.

He looked at the window it had used, a look of confusion and rising anger on his face.

"It knew sixteen different styles of kung-fu."

End Part 4