Disclaimer: This story is based upon characters created by Bob Schooley and Mark McCorkle for Disney. Since this story is set 25 years later, all the characters under twenty-five years of age are mine.

Flo, Don, and Anne were soon flying over the Mediterranean Sea.

"We've got to stop one of Mom's old high school buddies from taking over the world with mind control," said Don, thinking the fact out loud. "Weirdness rising."

"From what I heard, they weren't buddies," said Anne.

Flo spoke in that same tone airline captains use when speaking over the public address, "Fasten your seat belts, there may be turbulence ahead."

"Something wrong?" asked Anne.

"We'll be visible on their RADAR in a moment," Flo stated, "They might not welcome us."

Don tried not to think on that too hard, "Hey, Isn't Dr. Drakken an old school friend of Gramps'?" He made a face suggesting he had just come to a realization. "You don't suppose that someone in our class- !"

"And my birth parents are circus folk," Flo commented without looking up from her instruments.

Don gasped, "Really?"

"DON!" the girls yelled simultaneously.

An alarm sounded from the aircraft controls.

"There's our welcome missile," quipped Flo.

"Can you evade it?" asked Anne.

"I'm trying."

"Mind Control, huh?" Ron said. "You know, I'm surprised nobody tried global mind control before."

"Perhaps," said Agent Cann, "because the Director kept the technology secret."

"I guess that would be it," said Mr. Stoppable. "Yeah, my wife's a keeper."

Something loud and bright was visible on the horizon for a moment.

"Cann, was that an explosion?" asked Ron.

"Yes, Sir," answered the pilot. "I've lost RADAR contact with our other plane."

"The twins," Ron said softly. For a moment he was silent as he gazed at the horizon. He then spoke up, "Cann, the enemy must be monitoring. I'd better get out here."

"On your word, Sir"

Ron quickly strapped a pack to his back. He then took off the bike helmet he had been wearing and switched to a more protective helmet and steeled himself, "Eject."

Cann pressed a control that sent Ron Stoppable hurtling out of the aircraft. Ron then pressed a stud on the pack's front strap. This caused the pack's outer casing to fall away, revealing jets and wings that were already extending.

As he began to regain altitude, Ron watched the aircraft turn back. He then steered himself toward the explosion he had seen, and prayed.

"Now I need to get my hair done," said Anne.

"All this wind will do worse than that blast did," was Don's response.

The three of them were not looking their best. Minor burns, singed hair and clothing of the sort that would get them turned away at even a Bueno Nacho.

The only thing that looked at all good was the soft pink glow around the trio as they flew low toward the island, hand in hand.

"That had better not be another missile," Flo sighed.

"Where?" asked Don.

Flo nodded her head in the direction of a jet stream visible to their right, "Actually, the direction is wrong for it to have come from the island."

They watched as it came close enough for them to make out that it was a man with a personal jet pack.

"It's gotta be Dad!" cried Anne.

"Heidi Ho, kids!" Mr. Stoppable cried when he was near enough. "I'm really glad to see you guys!"

"Not as glad as we are to see you!" called Flo.

"We'll debate that later," smiled Mr. Stoppable. "Can I lighten your load?" he asked Flo as he moved into position to take hold of Don.

"Please," smiled Flo weakly.

Don's dad grabbed him by the waist as Flo let her grip on him go.

Mr. Stoppable then turned on his handheld and handed it Don to hold. The device came to life a moment later, showing the Director's image.

"Kim!" Mr. Stoppable yelled before she spoke. "The kids are O.K!"

"Thank Goodness!" was her response. "We detected the explosion."

After a brief update for the Director, the group then flew low until they reached the shores of Senior Island.

Special thanks to my children, Kathleen and James for some of the ideas used in this story.