Chapter 13: Come Together
Neil ran frantically down the corridors of the hidden base. He had little hope any of the personnel would mistake him for one of them. His hair was far too long and he was well past desperately needing a shave. That worried him because he knew the majority of the agents and strike team members here were simply there because they had been assigned to the Special Unit. They were just doing their jobs and following orders they probably had no idea were illegal. It was the central core of the Unit who were breaking the law. He regretted hurting those men, but it had been the only reaction he could muster after reviving from the drugs they used.
He felt like a fool. Here he had been trying to escape where there were other prisoners he needed to take care of. He had heard from his captors about Ron but somehow he took it to mean he wasn't being held here at this facility. It should have hit him over the head when he found Kim's car!
"I still haven't been able to get in touch with Kim." Wade said moments ago on the Kimmunicator. "That's when I decided to take a chance on Ron's, even though I learned from the FBI mainframe that he was in custody."
"Where are they holding him." Neil said, his mind switching gears from escape mode to rescue mode.
"He's not in any kind of official holding area, at least according to the more open FBI files, but I'm assuming they would have taken him there if they took the car there. They got it the same time he was captured. Neil, there was a medical report along with his arrest; it says he is being treated for a gunshot wound!"
"Crap, that can mean much or little. No telling how bad he is, though it does sound like he's in good enough shape they didn't take him straight to a hospital. That also explains why I didn't see him down in the holding cells. He's probably in the infirmary or something. Have you still got him micro chipped?"
"I do, but I haven't calibrated the sensors to scan for it yet. I've been concentrating on restoring communications."
"Calibrating sensors? What happened?"
"When all this went down, they seemed to switch targets. They accused Kim of trying to help Shego avoid capture. Somehow they got a warrant and confiscated my whole system at home, so I had to find another terminal with enough processing power to act as a substitute."
"And that is?"
"Your ship."
"Lovely. Well, I have a pretty good idea where the infirmary is. I'll try that first."
That's when he heard the gunshots. A worst-case scenario sprang to life in his mind. Ron had somehow effected his own escape and they were shooting at him. Neil respected the younger man's growing skills, but he was not accustomed to going up against such heavily armed enemies.
He had to admit, he couldn't even be sure where the shots had come from, so he had to head for where he thought the infirmary was supposed to be. "Wade, call me, beep me, whatever." He pressed a button, switching the unit to silent mode and shoved it into a slash pocket as he ran out of the garage.
"Now let me get this straight," Michael said as he faced down Doctor Betty Director. "You have know for the last several years there was a unit in the FBI that was operating illegally and you did nothing about it?"
"Mister Guerin, our resources are severely limited so we have to direct out attention to matters that demonstrate a clear and present danger to the world as a whole. The 'Special Unit" did not do so until Special Agent Starler gained control over it. Before that it was simply not within the jurisdiction provided in our charter."
"I think trying to assassinate four innocent people at a high school graduation ceremony demonstrates a pretty clear danger." Isabel broke in.
"We were not aware of those events until much later. At the time we were still dealing with the aftermath of Doctor Drakken's Little Diablo attack. Now we have information that Starler is using the unit to work toward his own ends and may pose a significant immediate threat to world security. Tell me, would you find it terribly ironic that we suspect he might not have even been born on Earth?"
"You mean he's not human?" Kyle asked. Both he and Maria were still dressed in their street clothes instead of the dark, tight fitting jumpsuits Michael and Isabel had been fitted with.
"No, we believe he is human, but from another planet populated by humans."
"That doesn't make a bit of sense." Maria interjected petulantly.
"We don't understand that fact either, but that is what our insider has told us. Whether these extra-terrestrial humans are the result of parallel evolution of transplantation is beside the point."
"Then why do you need us?" Michael asked.
"Because of your unique gifts. Because they have captured one of your own. Because they have managed to take some of our best operatives off the board..."
"If I may be so frank, because you don't want to be officially associated with this operation. That's why you've tried to rely on this Kim Possible person and this other guy who got himself captured." Isabel interrupted angrily.
"May I speak?" the young, severe Asian man piloting the hover jet asked.
"Always, Agent Du." Director replied.
"Mrs. Ramirez…Isabel is correct. If we had relied on properly trained and equipped professionals we would not be resorting to sending in even more…amateurs."
"So noted Will. I will point out the many other times you have raised that objection, only to have your assignments completed by those same 'amateurs.' So, Mister Guerin, Mrs. Ramirez, are you in or out?"
"If it means getting Max and Liz out of these freak's hands and maybe getting them off our backs for good, I'm in." Michael said.
"But what about afterwards? We do this with Global Justice and we're virtually admitting we're aliens." Isabel said.
"Really?" Doctor Director asked. "Just what makes the three of you aliens?"
The four of them were momentarily stunned by the question.
"From what you have told us and what we have learned otherwise, you emerged from your gestation pods in a cave near Roswell, New Mexico. In my book that means you were born there, making you all native born American citizens and are entitled do all the rights and protections that go along with that. Your pedigree, being so-called alien/human hybrids is irrelevant."
"So you don't think we're this big threat to national security?"
"If I did, you wouldn't be here right now. I just think you're a bunch of kids who would like nothing better than to be left alone."
"You got that right." Michael said.
As his mind drifted from hazy coherence to painful clarity, a real sense of fear was growing. Ron had been hurt in the past, all the more so as his skills improved and he came to the forefront on their missions. This would be a really good time for the old Mystical Monkey Power to fire up, he thought. Kind of hard to imagine using a physical fighting power like that when even twitching makes your shoulder feel like a piece of rebar has been shoved through it. Why was the medicine that Doctor Oray shot him with making him so woozy? Ron knew of plenty of medications that would help him manage the pain but still allow him to mostly function awake.
The pain made him recall a conversation he had with Neil right after his other-verse counterpart healed the old damage in his ankle. "The human mind is a funny thing when it comes to pain. One day it is so bad that it blots out the whole world. Then suddenly it's the next day and it's still there. Then it's another day, and another. Somewhere along the line you realized the pain sin't going away, at least not quickly. It's not really getting any better, but somehow, some way you can learn to deal with it. You've gotta go on with your life. Then you either get better or the nerves start to die out or your mind just shuts them off so the pain isn't so bad." He then opened his hands and showed Ron the three titanium screws that had been imbedded in his ankle by the surgeons five years ago.
At the time he had marveled at how the screws had been removed. They were shiny and absolutely clean without even a trace of blood or bone on them. Neil told him how they simply emerged from his skin, the body forcing them out since they were not needed any more. At that moment Rufus appeared, along with one of the Argus' two cats, with whom he had apparently made friends. Moments later it was discovered the little naked mole rat had managed to wrap the other (and fluffier) cat in duct tape. He smiled, thinking of his little buddy, who had been left in the care of Wade. I wonder if Rufus could get me out of this jam?
His attention was diverted to a slight skittering sound. Forgetting himself for a moment, he turned his head in the direction of the sound, sending lances of fresh, bright pain shooting through him. Wonderful, they probably have swamp rats getting in here. I've lived with a naked mole rat for six years and I'm still afraid of regular, furry rats!
Something moved behind him. There was that skittering sound again! It was closer! In his mind's eye he could see it; a mangy, fat brown swamp rat with beady oil black eyes, cold, expressionless eyes with no real soul behind them. Opposing sets of sharp incisors dripped with foaming drool, ready to take juicy bites out of his large ears.
He felt it climb onto his good shoulder, brushing against his ear. He clamped his eyes shut, then, screwing up his courage he opened them and looked at the intruder.
There were those black eyes and a pair of HUGE razor sharp buck teeth right in front of his face!
However, there was no rancid brown fur. There wasn't any fur at all! Just a set of long whiskers and a tiny flyer's scarf tied around his neck.
"RUFUS!" he shouted, the pain in his shoulder and the haze of the medicine chased away by the joy of seeing his little pal. "Buddy, how did you get here?"
"Whoosh" the little rodent squeaked, pantomiming an airplane.
"Where's KP? Is she alright?"
"Dunno." He answered with a slight shrug?
Summoning all of his strength, Ron sat up. He concentrated on just getting his legs under him, focusing on his balance rather than the pain shooting through his shoulder. Rufus' unexpected appearance gave him the inspiration he needed to chance getting away on his own. Somehow he made it to the clear door, though he couldn't figure out how to open it.
His little pink buddy hopped off his shoulder and squeezed back through one of the air holes, disappearing down the hallway. Moments later he retuned with a magnetic key card camped in his massive buck teeth. Ron wondered for a moment how he was going to reach the card reader, which was set shoulder high at the edge of the door. Rufus could make a pretty impressive vertical leap but even doing that this would be far beyond him.
Rufus was way ahead of him. Realizing that Ron wasn't at one hundred percent right now, he liently hopped to the edge of the first air hole, then the next until he was on top of the card reader. He held the card in the slot and dropped to the floor, dragging it through it on the way. There was a soft click and the door popped open about an inch.
He was about to walk right out, but Rufus blocked his way, his tiny pink arms crossed. "Left me!"
"Buddy, we talked about this. We were spending an awful lot of time in the car. That wouldn't be good for you. Think how car sick you get." He recalled one of the less pleasant aspects of the mini-van ride to Kim's uncle's ranch in Montana, especially the return trip when they were all full of Slim Possible's chili (no disrespecting his cooking – even really good chili is great going down but you have – and those around you – have to pay for it later!)
Rufus put his paws to his chest. "Left me!" he squeaked again. "In trouble!" he pointed a tiny claw at Ron.
"Sigh, you're right. I'm sorry we left you. Tell you what, if there's any time left for our vacation once we're out of this, you can come on the rest of it." He winced again, wondering how he could enjoy his holiday with a gunshot wound. He chased that thought away with visions of Kim ministering to him, chasing his aches and pains away with her warm touch and tender kisses. He was drifting back toward the memory of the post-swimming pool shower her shared with her (suits on!) when he noticed a man imprisoned behind another Plexiglas door.
"Hey, if you're busing out of here, why don't you lend a guy a hand?" The man looked only slightly older than Ron, with a mop of unruly dark brown hair and ears that stuck out from his head almost as much as his did. There was something oddly familiar about his fellow prisoner.
With his good arm, he swiped the card. The tall young man immediately helped support him as they made their way down the corridor. They rounded a corner only to find a guard sprawled on the floor.
"How did you do that, Rufus?"
"Kissy Girl." He answered, pointing to a round lip-gloss container.
"Gotcha. Grab it and hop into my pocket."
"Did that thing just talk?" The dark haired teen asked. He watched as he scampered up Ron's leg, climbing into his usual cargo pocket. "What is that thing?"
"Naked Mole Rat. Pet of the future." He stuck his good hand out. "Ron, Ron Stoppable."
"Max Evans." He shook his hand gently, not wanting to jostle him too much.
"Where have I heard that name? Something about you is familiar, but I can't put my finger on it."
"I could say the same about you. You look familiar."
"Maybe you've seen me on TV, in the newspaper or something. My partner and I save the world on frequent occasions."
"Wait, aren't you Kim Possible's sidekick? The one who's always dropping his pants?" Max might have been the most serious looking person Ron had ever met, but he was trying to stifle a laugh.
"Number one, Kim is my partner…and girlfriend. Two, I don't drop my pants, they just tend to fall down sometimes, and that doesn't happen as much any more."
"She buy you a belt? Suspenders?"
"No, I've always worn a belt. It's just, she tends to make me buy my pants a lot tighter. Kind of rides up until you get used to it."
"Sounds like something Liz would do."
"That your girlfriend?"
"Wife, actually." Max replied.
"Liz, Liz, Liz? Why does that name seem important?" The last week replayed in Ron's mind.
"I don't know, since you've never met us before. We very rarely left Roswell before."
A light went off in Ron's head. "I've got it! You're from Roswell! We were just there a few days ago. I think we met your father-in-law. Ran a restaurant downtown with a sign shaped like a flying saucer. He figured we'd possibly run into you considering the life we lead. Imagine that."
"What did he have to say. I'm willing to bet he still doesn't care much for me."
"That's not the impression I got. I think he really misses you and Liz. Hey, she isn't here, is she?"
"I don't think so. I went down first when they grabbed me, but if she was here, I think I would know it."
They were interrupted by a series of gunshots. They dove for cover, new pain shocking Ron as his shoulder hit the wall. There was nobody in sight, though a series of alarms started going off.
"I think they're missing us." Ron said.
"I don't know. I think they're shooting at somebody else!" In fact, there was quite a bit of shouting coming from a room at the far end of the corridor they were previously traversing. One voice rose above the rest. It wasn't so much as shouting as chanting, in some language neither of the young men recognized.
There was a muffled 'foomp' sound and a man dressed in a non-descript dark suit shot out of the doorway, landing on his backside. He managed to hold onto his pistol and he brought it up, pointing it back into the room. He fired one more shot before a blast of blazing energy ripped the weapon from his hands. The agent, knowing he was in trouble taking on the new threat alone, scrambled for the nearby bulkhead doors, barely escaping another blast.
The figure that stepped into the corridor was no giant robot or villain in battle armor, it was simply a man, dressed in a now-tattered white lab coat. His hand was still wreathed in the coalescing energy he directed at the fleeing agent. He turned and immediately spotted the two teens.
"Evans, Stoppable! You have to get out of here quickly."
Ron suddenly realized who the speaker was. It was the doctor who had come to see him before putting him under again with the injection.
"Didn't you hear me? You need to get out of here before Starler can bring more agents in."
"Why, so you can dope me up again? You could have just given me something to deaden this pain!" He gritted his teeth though the agony of his left shoulder.
"There is no time to explain. I simply thought I could protect you better if you were in our control. I just found out there are other plans for Evans and his friends, plans that put all of my work in jeopardy. Now you must flee. Evans, you can heal Stoppable. It will make escape easier. Find Argus and get out of here."
With that, he waved his hands, causing a disk of energy that resembled a pool of metal. He stepped into it and disappeared.
"What did he mean by heal me? Are you part of those Trinity things like Neil?"
Max seemed shocked by the doctor's statement, but turned his attention back to Ron. He dragged him into the room nearest them and put his hand on the damaged shoulder. There was a surge of white light and for a fleeting moment he was once again wreathed in agony.
Then the pain seemed to simply melt away. Max took his hand from the spot, carefully pealing the bandage, revealing healthy pink skin. There wasn't even a scar where the bullet had entered.
"Wow! How did you do that?"
"It's a gift. What about this Neil guy you mentioned? Does he have healing powers?"
"Some. He found out about his powers last year and he's just now starting to learn how to use them. I don't think he could have done that, though he's supposed to be able to in the future." Suddenly, with the pain gone, he was aware he was not wearing a shirt. "Good thing it's summer. Now, let's get out of here and find Neil."
The two disappeared down a stairwell just as a group of armed men arrived to discover the now deserted lab of Doctor Oray.
Starler's fists clenched. The Master would not be pleased.
Since it's concluded I'll respond to some reviews of "Motor Court Blues" here
Campy - this is how I imagine Kim and Ron - basically good, moral kids who are exploring love. They are mature beyond their years but they're still eighteen year-old kids. Even though the last chapter was short, it was my favorite to write. (The funny parts had me giggling like an adolescent as I was writing them!)
Momike - Chapter 3 is pretty much it since it dovetails into this story. Glad you liked it.
MrDrP - that really means a lot to me coming from a master like yourself! (did I mention I'm really looking forward to Epic Sitch Eye Eye?)
JupMod - Thanks!
Mattb3671 - Chapter 1 was based on several real experiences. For instance, on a recent getaway to Gatlinburg I waited up till 12:30 to see a KP ep - and you can probably tell it was "Attack of the Killer Bebes" which I have on DVD and have seen maybe 20 times - gahhhhh! (still watched it all.) The final turnabout kind of wrote itself :)