Chapter 8: You lock the door And throw away the key

Agent Kendall, a twelve year veteran of Global Justice, monitored the controls of the hoverjet casually as the autopilot flew the aircraft steadily towards its destination. She read the gauges, and the various readouts, but didn't directly touch the controls.

The autopilot system was simple, automated, and as close to foolproof as a large number of greatly educated and highly talented scientists in GJ's employ could render it. She saw little reason to interfere in its operation, especially after a long day as part of the search and rescue operation for her passenger's missing partner.

Despite the darkness and the lack of light beyond the minimal self-illuminated instrumentation of the cockpit, she had no problem seeing thanks to her multi-spectrum sunglasses. They were currently converting the variations in infrared radiation into a visible wavelength, which painted her vision in a rainbow of hues, but enabled her to see in the near total darkness.

Shifting in her seat, Kendall adjusted her posture to ease a bit of tension in her back. "I'll be glad when this day's over - or this shift, is more like it; the day is likely to end first."

Glancing over her shoulder, she realized her passenger was still wide awake despite the darkened cabin, the length of her own day, the lack of conversation, and the emotional stress that she was under. "Must be rough," Kendall empathized silently. "Losing a partner's a very bad thing, and she's still so young."

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"'Mr. Stoppable, Mrs. Stoppable; I'm sorry.' No, that's too... generic. 'Ron was a hero, Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable. He saved...' No... that's too... impersonal. 'Ron cared for me more than he cared for himself...' No... that might make them think that... that... How about... 'I killed your son.'"

Kim blinked, fighting to suppress the sudden upwelling of tears as she thought about the levels of truth she could see staring accusingly back at her from within that bald statement. "I can't tell them that, even if I know they'll already be thinking it."

She'd been trying to think of how to tell Ron's parents what happened since the plane had lifted from the amphibious assault ship without much success. Truthfully, she had been doing the same for hours before that point as well, but once Kim was actually on the way home, and the reality of the impending confrontation with Ron's family began to loom closer and closer, it had transformed into the primary focus of her concentration, dominating her thoughts. Dozens, hundreds of lines, combinations of words, scenarios, had all played out in her head, and been rejected. None of them were good enough, satisfying enough, or meaningful enough for her, for them, or for Ron.

"What can I say? What can I do?"

XXXxxxXXX

Agent Kendall turned back to the controls and checked the chronometer feature on her stop watch while she stretched. "Still a while to go yet," she noted, fighting the urge to yawn.

Before she could check the readings on the instrumentation yet again (more as an aid to staving off sleep than from need), a low tone sounded in her earpieces. Touching a control on the side of her helmet, she acknowledged the communication quietly. "Kendall," she answered, speaking into the integrated microphone that sprouted from the left side of her helmet.

Kim overheard the pilot's quiet voice, and her internal debate quieted as she listened curiously. Indeed, she found herself almost desperately eager for the distraction from her increasingly gloomy thoughts. Even though she could only hear one side of the conversation, she shamelessly eavesdropped, straining her ears to catch every word.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Us, ma'am? You do remember..."

"No, ma'am."

"Affirmative. I'll adjust our course to Zulu-Bravo Seven-Two-Three."

"Really? She'll be..." a note of surprised delight entered the pilot's voice, but was just as quickly banished. "Oh. Yes. No, now I understand... Yes, I... Why...? What...?"

From a recessed slot in the control console, located between the pilot and co-pilot's station, a faint hum could be heard as a light that wouldn't have been noticeable if the craft's cabin lights had been lit began to emanate from somewhere inside the center console. One by one, many sheets of paper were extruded from the opening to fall into a small hopper designed for that purpose, eventually forming a stack of printed output between the seats. "Fax? Teletype? Laser printer?" Kim wondered, glancing between the pages and the pilot as the light inside the slot finally winked out.

"So he was spotted in Ber...? Oh, yes, ma'am," the pilot spoke into the microphone, then listened carefully, unconsciously nodding several times, despite the impossibility (or technically, implausibility since she was, after all, part of an organization that utilized espionage as much as (if not more than) conventional police work - you could never be completely certain you weren't under covert surveillance whenever you were within a Global Justice installation or vehicle) of being seen. "I understand."

"Authorization?" Kendall asked after a moment, listening carefully to the transmission.

"Confirmed," the pilot nodded once more, even as she was punching the modifications to their flight plans into the navigational computer. "New mission parameters set. Our estimated time of arrival at Middleton should be pushed back approximately five hours. Will that be enough time?"

"New mission parameters?" Kim wondered silently. She blinked, then stretched carefully, trying to force herself to become more alert. She winced as she heard a creak as a joint flexed, and a pop from her left knee as her bones shifted. "Ouch." she thought to herself, more from habit than from any great need. It wasn't really painful, but the sensation as the joint moved was disturbing.

Kim was tired - physically, mentally, and emotionally - and she felt like her body was straining its resources to keep her going. She didn't want to refuse a new mission outright, even though she was really tempted to - or at the very least, to try to delay it. "Maybe it can wait until tomorrow."

As she considered that possibility, a small voice in Kim's head reminded her, "But on the other hand, if we do go on another mission, I won't have to face Ron's parents until later..." The thought was tremendously appealing, she realized guiltily.

"Acknowledged," the pilot signed off, then sighed tiredly as she shifted, settling her body armor more firmly on her torso. "You heard?" she asked Kim, raising her voice a little.

"Yep; what's the sitch? And why us? Why now?" Kim asked. She was glad that her voice sounded steadier than she felt at the moment.

"Don't worry; it's nothing complicated. Just a simple prisoner transfer - transporting someone from local PD to GJ custody. Dr. Director asked for you to handle it personally, and since the prisoner needs to go to Middleton too, it won't delay our arrival there too badly."

"'Five hours?'" Kim repeated.

"That's right; a short stopover to pick him up, and we'll be on our way again. You should try to get some rest beforehand," she advised. "We're still a few hours out from Florida."

"Florida?" Kim wondered aloud. "That's not exactly on our original flight path."

"No, but like I said, the Director wants you to handle it personally." The pilot pulled off her glasses, thumbing off the power to the lenses, then warned, "I'm turning up the cabin lights; watch your eyes."

Kim blinked as the light level gradually increased. Her eyes watered a little as her tired eyes slowly adjusted to the change in illumination, but she soon adapted since they had only been raised to a dim level. She knuckled her eyes, seeing spots from the pressure of her fingers, and straightened her posture in her seat.

While Kim was still blinking in the gloom, the pilot quickly read through the stack of printouts with the aid of a small pocket flashlight. As she scanned through the pages, she shuffled them into two stacks, holding the light between her teeth when necessary as she organized the papers. When done, she clicked off the flashlight and turned in her seat.

Kendall handed the slightly smaller of the two stacks to her passenger. "Start with these; go ahead and read them over and let me know if you have any questions."

Kim accepted the papers with a tired smile before settling back to read them. At first it was still too dark to read effectively and her eyes ached at the strain, but the light level inside the aircraft continued to rise, slowly and gradually enough that it was almost unnoticeable - and her tired eyes were grateful for the slow pace of the changes.

As she had expected given Kendall's brief summary, the papers were various forms and the supporting documentation for a local police department to transfer custody of a prisoner into Global Justice's jurisdiction. They had been signed by a Federal Magistrate - "Burke. Burke. I don't think I know him... or her," Kim thought silently, noting the presence of only a first initial "G," and not a first name - and were for the transfer of a prisoner named "John Doe #234."

When she had completed reading the papers, she set them carefully atop the empty seat beside her. "Why me? Why now? If it was Drakken or Junior or something, I could almost understand why she'd want me to do it, but why am I needed for just some guy - and tonight of all nights?"

"Ready for the next part?" Kendall asked.

"Sure," Kim sighed, a wealth of exhaustion and grudging acceptance blended in the small exhalation. "What is it?"

"Don't worry; it's all part of the same task." She handed Kim part of her own stack of papers, but tucked a few away inside her body armor once Kim was distracted by the fresh stack.

Kim read the new papers as well. "'Surrender all evidence collected, analyses performed, information, possessions, and paperwork associated with the person known as "John Doe #234"'?" Kim read aloud. "Who is this guy?"

"That's... a good question," Kendall evaded carefully, not exactly answering the question.

"Wonderful," Kim breathed sourly, noting the evasion. "Maybe GJ doesn't even know." She settled back in her seat and tried to make herself comfortable, keeping her mind resolutely blank to avoid distracting thoughts as she awaited their arrival.

In the slowly lightening gloom of the cabin, Kim actually found herself glad for the mission, despite her guilty thoughts about the matter. Despite her tiredness, the awkwardness, and the general annoyance of it, while she was on the mission (and since it was a transfer, it would last until they were home in Middleton), she'd have something to focus on other than the empty seat beside her - and the family of the person not seated there that she'd have to eventually face.

"I will talk to them," she promised herself. "Eventually."

xxXXxx

The Global Justice hoverjet landed in an empty parking lot located just behind the police station - filling two-thirds of it. Kim and Agent Kendall disembarked, and with a beep that sounded more like a car alarm than anything else, the aircraft sealed itself behind them. When the craft had secured itself, they walked past the few curious onlookers (not many were loitering near the police station in the middle of the night) and marched inside, Kim hard on the older agent's heels.

xxXXxx

The desk sergeant gawked at them as they came in - the Global Justice agent in full duty body armor, helmet, and sunglasses, and Kim Possible - who frankly looked more tired and irritable than heroic at the moment, but was still a world famous heroine. "Can I help you?" he asked, slowly glancing back and forth between them.

Kim mutely spread the paperwork on the sergeant's desk, grouping them together into small stacks of related material as Agent Kendall answered for them both. "Prisoner transfer. We need to take custody of one of the detainees in your custody and all the evidence, belongings, and reports relating thereto."

"I'll need to verify this," the sergeant pointed out, looking down at the voluminous official-looking paperwork spread forbiddingly before him before looking back up at the two.

"Of course," Kendall's lips creased into a smile in the small gap visible between the helmet, glasses, and body armor she wore. "Feel free." She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing her eyes and the small crinkles that appeared at their corners as her smile broadened. "We'll wait."

Kim on the other hand, scowled at the delay that she could foresee growing even longer than expected. She tried not to yawn as the police officer began making some phone calls.

xxXXxx

It did take a good deal of time, both because of their off-hour arrival, and the number of departments and units of the local bureaucracy that were involved - all of whom had to be notified, and had to provide a delegate or authorized party to sign off on the transfer. Despite these factors, a stack of folders and a bag containing the prisoner's personal effects were eventually joined on an empty desk appropriated for the purpose by a larger, brown paper bag that had been sealed with tamper- resistant tape and signed in front of witnesses as testament to the continuity of the chain of evidence.

After yet more paperwork was signed, there remained only one last element to gather to complete the collection. "Will you go collect our prisoner?" Kendall asked Kim, nodding towards the stack of material they had accumulated. "I'll keep an eye on the rest of our stuff."

"Sure," Kim sighed, glad the whole thing was almost over. She wasn't used to dealing with bureaucracy (it was much easier and quicker to just use favors and her reputation as a crime fighter to get things done, and let GJ and Wade deal with the paperwork and all the boring non-mission details behind the scenes) and it had felt excruciatingly tedious to have to go through all of them with just Agent Kendall as her guide - especially since she'd been tired and irritated before the whole process had even begun.

"I'm just glad she's here; I'd have run out of here screaming an hour ago if I had to go through all of this by myself." At that thought, a vivid memory of why she would have to do it solo now reared its head, shredding some of her composure. She froze, closed her eyes, and slowly counted to ten, sending the thought to the back of her mind. "Deal with it later," she told herself fiercely.

When she was ready, Kim opened her eyes and nodded to the pair of officers who were waiting to escort her. She fell into step with them, and obligingly followed them deeper into the station.

xxXXxx

As Kim walked away, Agent Kendall drew another sheet of paper from under the chest plate of her body armor, and without a word, handed it to the chief of police.

He read the order, his eyebrows rising, then looked curiously over the top of the form at the Agent.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"Completely," she replied. "There are... reasons. Most, it's probably best for you not to think about."

The chief shrugged, and crooked a finger to a waiting sergeant. He handed the form to the man, and nodded his approval when the man had read the instructions contained on the sheet and looked up for confirmation. They watched the man hurry off with alacrity, and the chief explained, "He'll take care of it. We'll run off a copy of the tape and have it ready for you to take with you before they get back with the prisoner."

"Thank you for the cooperation," Agent Kendall smiled tiredly as her eyes shifted to the closed door where Kim had left her sight towards the back of the station. "And my apologies for the... subterfuge. Dr. Director has some concerns, and a copy of documented, spontaneous reactions could allay some of them - or at least narrow down the list of ones we need to be concerned about."

Shrugging again, the chief waved off the apology. "Not a problem. Just makes me glad I don't have her job."

xxXXxx

In the back of the station, Kim waited between two sealed steel doors. After a time, when the guards watching through their monitors were sure of her authorization and clearance, and the lack of any untoward factors, she was buzzed through. An officer opened the inner door, and the three stepped through into the jail area proper.

A prison guard joined Kim's small entourage as she entered, and he led the silent group onward. "He's been quiet, mainly," the guard commented as they walked. "Asleep. He was screaming for a bit - nightmare, I suspect - but he hasn't really been awake since he was taken into custody."

When neither Kim or the officers responded, the guard fell silent. He led them past a few occupied cells in a long corridor of identical appearing cells, until they finally reached the one where Kim's soon-to-be prisoner was kept.

"Up and at 'em," the guard called into the cell, as he waved to a security camera as a signal to the guard watching them on a closed circuit monitor. He waited patiently, one hand resting on one of the horizontal cross-pieces in the door.

The watchful guard in a secure room in another part of the building noted the guard's wave. He turned a key and, while holding it in the turned position, pushed a small green button in a bank of similar buttons to unlock the cell. He made a notation on a log sheet of what he had done, then settled in to watch the activity on the monitor once more.

When the lock disengaged, it was heralded by a solid thunk as an electromagnet powered down and a length of steel retracted, freeing the door to move. The waiting guard swung the door open with a squeal of metal on metal, then stepped aside, leaving the small party spread in a rough semicircle facing the cell entrance.

Inside the cell, a slight figure in a bright orange jumpsuit shifted from atop the cot that was against one wall and rose to his feet. One hand reached up to scratch at the back of his neck as he turned to face the door.

Before the watching policemen and jail guards could fathom her intent, Kim had moved. She cried out "RON!", and as the policemen and the guard stared, she all but tackled the prisoner as she smothered him in an embrace.

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To be continued...