Kim Possible: Mindwars

A FanFiction by P.C. Denton.

Author's Note: Eh, not much to say, it just keeps rolling.

Chapter 3


September 6, 2005 9:02AM

Downtown Washington, Bermuda Hotel

The woman sat in the back of the cab, staring up into the entrance of the Bermuda Hotel. She was pretty sure she remembered this place,at least it sort of sounded familiar. She had asked the cab driver to drop her off in front of the hotel. That was almost six minutes ago.

The driver shifted in his seat, looking back at the woman. "You gonna sit there all day Miss?" The driver asked, a bit of annoyance creeping into his words.

She shook her wandering and jumbled thoughts. "Oh! Sorry about that. Thank you." She swung the door open out onto the sidewalk and exited the cab. She didn't even make it two steps away towards the Hotel entrance, when the driver called after her.

"Hey! Are you going to pay your fare or what?" She spun around, embarrassed that she had forgotten something so trivial. The driver's expression was now quite displeased.

"Oh! Sorry again! I must be loosing it." Do I even have any cash?She pondered as she patted herself down, searching. A few moments and she produced a wide travelers wallet from her right breast coat pocket. Excellent! Somewhere to start, this thing must have something in it that can tell me more, maybe identification or something. A sigh of relief washed over her as she found money in the wallet, at least a couple thousand in various denominations she guessed. She paid the cabbie, as well as a nice hefty tip and strolled into the reception area of the hotel.

As she passed through the entranceway she glanced around, to see if there was anywhere she could sit in privacy to examine her newly found wallet. Seeing nothing more than a couple occupied benches lining the far side of the opposite the elevator doors, her gaze, and her nose eventually wandered off to her right, towards the hotel's dining room and lounge. Am I even old enough to go in here? She wondered, making her way to the lounge area, the place was split into two, the lounge being unoccupied for the time being. She found a corner booth near the back across from the emergency exit. It appeared the restaurant area was still serving breakfast from the smells wafting from the other side, in the restaurant area. That reminds me, I'm starving! A good bacon and egg breakfast should do the trick, and know I know can afford it. She waved down a waitress and ordered her self a big meal. The waitress nodded and said it would be about ten minutes for her order, she turned and headed to the terminal to enter the order order.

The woman placed the leather bound wallet, obviously expensive by the craftsmanship. It even color matched the trench coat she was wearing. She carefully opened the wallet, and unloaded the contents onto the table in front of her. Sliding the contents of the wallet around into groups she ended up with 4 different groups. The most important, at least she thought it would be was the first group, the plastic cards group. She picked up the stack of cards and examined the topmost card.

A drivers license, from New York. It's got a picture of me? She read the name on the license excitedly, her pulse quickening. Jane Smith...? The woman placed the card on the table and looked at the next card, this one was a matching Social Security Card with Jane Smith printed on it. Her heart sank at the third card, it was another, completely different drivers license. It had exactly the same picture as the New York ID, but it was from North Dakota. What the? Ellen Hunt? She realized immediately. Fake identities. Damn, no good. What would I need with these? She glanced down, shifting the credit cards around on the table, taking note that she had matching sets of all the major American credit cards to go along with the fake drivers licenses and Social Security Numbers. She carefully placed both sets of cards were she had found them in the wallet.

Leaving only two things left on the table, the cash and an aluminum card. She counted up the cash first. Just over two thousand, just as she had guessed earlier. The moment she placed the cash back into the fold in the wallet, the waitress brought her her breakfast. The woman thanked the waitress and dug into the thankfully hot food like she hadn't eaten a good meal in ages.

She wolfed down a few mouthfuls of scrambled egg before taking a small pause, to let it settle. It feels like I haven't ate in a couple days. This tastes so good! The woman leaned back on the padded booth bench, something dull prodded her back lightly, she hadn't noticed it before in the cab. She reached for the object at the small of her back, beneath the tench coat. Wondering what it was, and why she didn't notice it before. A handle..? She wiggled it, the object came loose when she pushed down on the handle lightly. She felt the spring loaded mechanism let the object free on the small of her back.

She almost dropped the object realizing what it was as she brought it out in front of her lap, out of sight. A gun. Fabrique National FiveSeven to be more precise. 5.7x28mm, 20 plus 1 round capacity. It looks like its been modified for the holster on my back. The length of the gun looked to be customized specifically for use with a holster, the holster on her back. She wasn't quite sure how or why she knew how she identified the weapon so quickly, or even why she knew the technical specifications of the thing that were running through her head, but holding it in her hands it felt vaguely familiar, like she had held it before. Or used it on someone? She shivered at the thought not wanting anymore potential bloodshed on her part on her mind. She tried to look as inconspicuous as she could, letting her eyes wander across the room, making sure nobody was watching her. Satisfied that her sweep was, she ejected the clip. Twenty, plus the bullet that's chambered. Thank god. She let out a sigh of relief. The rest of the gun appeared to be unused, or at least cleaned as far as she could tell. At least I can safely assume it wasn't recently used. Not sure what to make of the weapon, she put it back in her holster as inconspicuous as possible, the gun making a satisfying click as she pushed up on it, securing the weapon on her back. Well all this stuff proves so far is that I have multiple identities, I might have blown up part of a building, and that I am in possession of a weapon that is reserved almost exclusively for law enforcement. This is way too much to take in at once.

She took a sip of coffee, looking at the remaining items on the table, two cards. One was the access card to a hotel room. Examining the card more closely, along the bottom it read Bermuda Hotel, room 418. So I was staying here before this happened? That explains why the name sounded familiar. Talk about good luck, maybe I have belongings in there that will tell me who I am. She stuffed the card in her pocket for use later. That only left one card left on the table. It was the same dimensions as a credit card, but it was made out of aluminum. The front was unmarked, just a brushed metal finish. She flipped it over in her palm. On the back was the same finish, a data stripe along the one edge, SUBJECT ALPHA was printed in block letters right below the stripe. What's this for? She wondered, tapping it lightly on the table with her index finger. Lets see what's behind door number 418. The woman sighed, dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table and left for the elevator that she hoped would lead her further down the path to the truth.


September 6, 2005 9:46AM

Downtown Washington, Bermuda Hotel

The woman stood outside 418, hesitating for a moment, the card hovering over the card reader mounted to the door, above the door handle. Here goes nothing. She slid the card down, the card reader beeped and the door lock clicked open. She pressed down on the door handle and let herself in, closing the door behind her. She made sure to lock the door behind her.

"Hello?" The woman called out, waiting for a good thirty seconds to see if anything stirred within the room. Hearing no response, or anything out of the ordinary for that matter, she stepped forward, albeit cautiously, glancing to her left into the bathroom. Empty. It was a small hotel room, the bedroom and a bathroom with a shower was pretty much it. She felt herself relax a little, her shoulder muscles becoming less tense. "Oh goody, alone again." She muttered aloud.

The only object that didn't belong in the room a single, small bag of luggage. She hefted it up onto the bed and shook out the contents across the bed. Nothing but a couple blouses, some jeans, a couple changes of underwear that looked to be her size, and a brown leather jacket. Darn, nothing useful, no papers., nothing... A lot of good that does me. She sighed and pulled the dirty trench coat off, tossing it on the chair sitting beside the nightstand. At least I can take a shower and change into something clean. The woman managed to unclip the holster apparatus on her back, after a bit of fidgeting with the thing. She tossed the holster, gun and all on top of the jacket. She moved to sit on the end of the bed, flexing her back muscles briefly. Now, how do i get this suit thing off? Up until now, she hadn't even noticed she wasn't wearing normal clothes. Giving herself a one over, she realized it was some kind of form fitting one piece suit, covering everything except for her hands and her head. Running her hand down the length of her arm, she noticed that the texture of the suit was smooth, like running a hand through some extremely expensive silk, yet tapping it with her index finger it felt solid, like some kind of plating. It feels like I'm wearing nothing at all, yet I don't feel naked, or vulnerable. It's actually a pretty comfortable feeling. She stood and walked over to the bathroom, kicking off her heels off towards the main doorway.

She turned around, peering over her shoulder to try and get a look behind her. She felt her way around the back of the neck, trying to find any kind of seam or something that could possibly get her out of the thing. Just below the base of the neck she found a little sliding switch, she slid it down and a muted hiss emanated from along her spine. The woman felt the back of the suit part a few inches, the rest of the suit seemed to relax its tight fit around her entire body, allowing her to slip out. "Cool." She mumbled aloud. After a couple minutes of struggling to slide the single piece suit off of her petite frame, the woman managed to get free of it. She pushed the suit to the side with her now bare foot.

Up until now, she never bothered to take a good look at herself in a mirror. I look pretty good. She noted her figure was well defined, by the looks of it she figured that she was a bit younger than the IDs she had found claimed. She also noticed that her shiny black hair was dyed, at least she felt in the back of her mind it was not her natural color. It was a good dye job at any rate. Her eyes wandered to below her left collar bone, there was a tattoo. It was bar code, about an inch high, two inches wide, a bunch of numbers she didn't recognize beneath it. She brought her right hand up to it and touched it, it wasn't swollen, so she figured it had been there at least a couple weeks. Yet another thing to add to the growing puzzle. She thought.

The most striking feature was her eyes, the cold steely blue eyes stared back at a reflection of herself. An uneasy feeling overtook her her, she felt afraid when she looked at herself, her own cold gaze upon herself felt like it was devoid of any passion, of any type of feeling. She looked away, unable to keep her stare any longer, instead focusing her mind on a hot shower. She sighed, pulling off her remaining clothes, stepping into the tile walled shower. She had a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. When I do find out who I am, will I be happy with it? She thought, turning the valve in front of her on, letting the hot water wash away everything in her mind, if not for just a few minutes.


September 6, 2005 10:09AM

Downtown Washington, Bermuda Hotel, Room 418

The moment she stepped out of the shower she heard a set knocks at the door. She dried her body and hair as best she could and slid into a fresh bath robe that had been laid out by the hotel staff.

A second set of knocks. Room service maybe? She thought, wondering what they could possibly be up here for. "I'm coming, just a second!" She called, she peered into the peep hole, a burly man in a finely tailored suit, Italian made the woman guessed. He didn't look particularly happy. His cheekbones were sharp edges, it made him look like he had a permanent scowl burned into his features. She figured he was probably forty or so, gauged from the wavy blond hair with silvery lines running through the length of his head.

"Let me in Alpha. It's me." The man said just loud enough for her to hear.

Alpha? That card... "Uh, who?" She called again.

"Oh come on, now is not the time to be playing games. Let me in!" He said, a bit of agitation crept into his voice.

I guess that is me... Alpha... "Hold on a second please." She hovered her hand over the deadbolt, hesitating for a split second. Should I trust him? He seems to know who I am? Her mind made up, she slid the deadbolt back, a snick emanating from the lock falling back. Alpha swung the door open, the man brushed past her.

"What's with you? You didn't report in at the scheduled time." He said hoarsely, walking in and out of the bathroom, back into the sitting area, presumably to check to see if anybody else was in the room.

"I... I seem to be having problems with my memory. What was I supposed to report in? Why? Who are you?" She asked in rapid fire.

He looked to her, resting his hands to his hips. "Memory problems? What do you mean memory problems?" A few strands of his graying hair fell between his eyes.

She walked towards the bed, sitting down on the edge. She started to explain to him how she woke up on the street, not remembering anything, and how she ended up here. It didn't take more than a few minutes to get to him up to speed. "... and then you showed up."

His features darkened for a moment. "I see. We have to get you back to the labs immediately, the techs will want to take a look at you." He walked towards the windows overlooking the street side below, considering the next course of action. "Get dressed, we leave. Now."

What? No! How do I know I can even trust him? "What's the labs?" She asked.

He turned around, leaning his back on the window. "It doesn't matter, we should be able to... restore your previous memories with ease." He grinned, the smile sending chills down Alpha's spine.

Restored? "How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you aren't a bad guy out to get me, or take advantage of me?" She asked.

His grin grew wider, a throaty chuckle overtook the room briefly. "In the few weeks I've known you, I'd say I'd be more worried about you being the bad guy than me." He made a couple steps towards her. "Now are you going to get dressed, or am I going to have to haul you downstairs in that bathrobe?"

Alpha's mind was made. This doesn't feel right, noting feels right! Something is definitely wrong about him. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Get the hell out of my room." She stood, motioning a hand to the door.

"Have it your way, you go as is." In an instant, he drew a handgun from beneath his suit jacket. Alpha instantly recognized it as a USP tactical handgun, typically reserved for government agencies. It had a suppressor attached to the end of the barrel. "Move." He motioned to the door.

"No." She said defiantly. Taking a step back, bumping into the chair next to the nightstand.

He moved around the side of the bed, the gun trained on her the entire time. Grabbing her by the elbow, yanking her arm roughly. "Get going, or do I have to drag you all the way down to the parking lot?" She let him pull her forward, his first mistake.

She didn't know were it came from, nor did she care. This man was going to hurt her, she knew it. She moved into the pull on her arm, startling the man, she shoved her free elbow into his ribcage witch power she didn't even know she possessed. His eyes going wide, he grunted at the impact, sending him stepping back a foot. She now knew that this man was bad news, and cooperating with him would do more harm than good.

"Why you little..." He tried to keep his voice low but couldn't help it. "I'll shoot you if I have to." recovering from the blow quickly. He tried to aim his silenced handgun towards her general direction, but he was too slow. She lowered her stance and pushed the man to the ground with all her energy., his gun went off as it flew out of his hand, bouncing on the bedpost on the foot, the muted sound of the bullet hitting the door out towards the hall splintering. She heard the sound of a rib cracking below her, the assailant winced in pain, but it wasn't enough to deter him, in fact it made him even more angry. He pushed her roughly to his side and rolled on top of her, pinning her neck under his forearm. He pushed down, constricting her air. "If you don't cooperate, I have my orders to kill you." He heaved, the cracked rib taking its full effect. "After that little stunt, I think I'll just kill you and be done with it." He pushed a little harder on her neck, Alpha gasped for air. He reached to his dropped handgun on top of the bed.

Can't breathe... She thought frantically, she struggled to get free with her ebbing strength. The man's weight was just too much. She tried to kick, but her legs were pinned down as well by one of his knees. She managed to free her left arm to try to hit him, but he easily pushed her arm away, her arm knocking her trench coat to the ground from off the chair to their side. She started to see stars, everything growing dimmer by the second. Alpha thought she heard someone else yelling, seemingly far away now. She frantically felt around her in her evidently last fleeting conscious moments, trying to find something-anything to stop this man from taking her life.


September 6, 2005 10:15AM

Downtown Washington, Bermuda Hotel, Fourth floor

Ron exited the elevator car, the doors sliding closed silently behind him. Thankfully Wade had managed to get him a direct flight off a previous contact he had had. Wade had Ron there in under a couple hours. In the mean time on the pretty boring flight, Wade had narrowed the hotel the dead woman was staying in, it took a bit of digging, and a lot of luck to dig up a record of her even being in the city. It was only because of an odd report from a cab driver, in combination with an enhanced photo from the video feed Ron had seen earlier to get a positive ID with the customer in this hotel. Let's hope she- this imposer hasn't flown the coop yet.

"You're sure Wade?" Ron asked, looking down at his Kimmunicator. Ron shot a quick glance forward, seeing a single, short woman next to a cleaning cart down the hall in front of him.

"Yes Ron, from the data I lifted on the security cameras in this hotel, as well as the original tape on the TV, I'm certain it's her." Wade said, he looked exhausted, dark lines forming beneath his eyes. It looked like he hadn't slept in a couple days. Ron heard wood splinter ahead of him, and a supersonic impact of a bullet striking the wall across the hall. The cleaning woman didn't seem to notice the sound.

"Wade, did you just get that?" Ron asked, moving faster down the hall.

"Yeah." Wade said, scanning the log entries streaming in from the Kimmunicator. "It was a bullet, you've got gunfire. Careful Ron, there is two people I can see from the sensors on the Kimmunicator."

"I try to be careful." Ron had a lopsided grin on his face. "Nothing that some Monkey Master Kung Fu can't handle."

He paused to the left of the door to suite 418, taking a deep breath. He looked down to Rufus, who looked back up to him. "Here goes nothing little buddy." He knocked on the door, and raised his voice. "Hello?" Ron called. He could hear muffled sounds of some kind of struggle in the hotel suite. He pounded on the door again. "Don't make me come in there and unleash some Monkey Kung Fu skill on everyone!" He yelled to the door.

Two more gunshots, this time the sounds thundered through the hall. Ron froze in place for a second, he looked back to see the cleaning woman a dozen paces ahead of him duck behind her cart in reflex. Oh shit. "Wade, get the cops down here now, I'm going in."

"On it Ron." Wade paused, startled by the results on the screen. "Ron. There is only one life sign in there now..." Wade trailed off.

Ron nodded, pocketed the device with one hand and threw his shoulder into the door with all of his weight, the damaged door flew open, the frame splintering apart from the force. Ron rolled into a somersault as soon as he was clear of the door, landing in a low defensive stance. He froze in place, stunned at the sight. The woman he saw on TV, and now confirmed as living, here in the flesh in front of him had just pushed a man- no, a corpse from above her, Blood seeping from two clean bullet holes that went straight through him, the bullets thankfully embedded in the ceiling. There was blood all over the floor, even on the female's robe. As she sat up, Ron noticed that besides her ragged uneven breathing, she didn't even seem phased by what had just happened. He managed to hold back the vomit he could feel building its way up his throat.

She brought the handgun she was holding in one swift movement, aiming it straight towards Ron's direction, her aim unwavering. Ron didn't even raise his hands in surrender, too stunned at the sight to react. One word came out of his mouth, a name, the name of a friend up until know he thought- he knew was dead. His voice was level, despite the handgun pointed squarely at his head. "Tara?"

EOC