Time again (finally) for more
from this amazing epic of goofy proportions. Thanks to all who
reviewed and waited patiently.
Sorry for the epic
delay. It was easy enough to write three chapters over my
Thanksgiving break, but somehow I never found the time, and then five
months went by–anyway, back on the horse! (You might want to re-read earlier chapters. I think they may be due for a re-write, but I'd much sooner concentrate on finishing up. Should be one or two more chapters after this one.)
All characters are, of course, owned by the Disney Company, who I like a lot more now than I did in the past. (4th season, baby! Yeah! I am so looking forward to this story being contradicted by future material sometime in 2007!)
04 – Shego Cell (Pandora Tonight)
Colonel Washburn saw his teen passenger re-emerge from the prison. "So, we gotta go chase down a doomsday device?"
All she responded with was "No."
"So, what, it was a prank?"
"Yeah."
"Back to Middleton, then?"
"Hmmph."
As the aircraft lifted off into the dark Antarctic sky, Dr. Drakken returned to the visitor room.
"Please excuse us, gentlemen. I'd like to berate the captive in private." Drakken motioned for Dementor and Killigan to leave.
"And why should ye get to deliver the gloating plan explanation!" Killigan was not one to share.
"Indeed. It was as much our victory as it was your own!"
"Look, we can all take turns gloating over her later, but it was my plan, so I call dibs!"
Dementor snorted, and opened the door. Killigan followed him out, muttering. "Him and his superior dib callin'…"
After they had gone, Drakken returned the new resident in his sidekick's body. "Alone at last."
"I have to admit, Drakken. Building a brain-switch machine into the visitor room telephone? That's pretty clever."
"Oh, that's not the half of it! This prison doesn't have a visitor room!"
Six days previous:
"It's brilliant, Shego. Provided I can find parts, I can rebuild my Brain Switcher machine into a visitor room intercom telephone…"
"Doc, this is a high-security facility. Even we don't know where it is. Why would there be a visitor room?"
"Wha…"
Three hours after that:
"Okay, Shego. Minor strategy change." Drakken pulled out an elaborate confection he'd thrown together. "Here's a model for a phony visitors room, made by repurposing the kitchen robots. It is constructed of sponge cake, icing and a window made of rock candy."
"Oh. Looks tasty. So what would the full-size version be made of?"
"Sponge cake, icing and rock candy. Weren't you listening?"
Back in the present:
Drakken licked the window. "Mmm, sweet, sweet deception!"
"Ew! Window tongue!" Kim winced a bit.
"Oh, grow up." He chuckled to himself. "I suppose we did that for you, now that I think about it."
"Well, how did you get Will Du involved? Even he's too sharp for this plan to go off under his nose!"
"Our Mr. Du's nose is nowhere nearby. This prison is totally un-staffed; it's automated! I have to admit, it's not a bad thought. Robots can't be bribed, influenced, seduced, or bored to death. Their programming could be influenced, of course, but the authorities were careful to exclude devices that could be used for such. We might have stayed in here forever, if not for the personal effects room."
"A personal effects room? Like, lockers for what you had on you when you were brought in?" Kim was a bit confused. Why would they put it at the prison? It'd make more sense to put it at the opposite pole of the Earth!
"Oh, more than that: it's a vault containing our captured super-devices. We've barely scratched the surface of what's contained there. Parts recovered from my old brain-swap machine, for one. We found enough computer parts to take control of the security system; our Mr. Du is probably running the show from a laptop in Australia, sipping beverages on Bondi Beach blissfully unaware that anything is happening here! It's perfect! We just reprogrammed his little hologram that he uses to taunt us, check it!" He spoke to the walls, "Can we fly in Du, please?"
Will Du appeared in the room. He did a belly dance, cut a loud fart, and said, "I'm an ignorant fool, who works for a stupid dummy-head who can't even acknowledge her own older brother…"
"Thank you, Gemini, that's plenty!" The image disappeared.
"So why the deception? Why not just radio for a break-out?" Kim started to work her bonds, she could feel them slipping. It was only a matter of time. Come on, Drakken. Keep talking.
"Our communications link ends with the GJ mainframe. The only exploitable backdoor was a direct link to your computer-geek friend; oh, what trouble he'll be in when GJ finds that! But I digress. Soon, Shego will be free; in your hometown and your body, able to exploit your resources to come and free me secretly!"
A loud throat-clearing noise came over the loudspeakers in the room.
Drakken caught himself, "Us! I mean us! And now, Kim Possible, I leave you to wait quietly." He nodded to no-one in particular.
Gas streamed into Kim's side of the room. She was out like a light inside a minute.
The aircraft touched down in Kim's neighborhood a bit after seven in the evening. Shego gave Washburn the brush-off and plodded into the house of Possible. The smell of fresh plaster and paint assaulted her nose, and bare boards were visible overhead. She spied a note taped to the inside of the door:
Kimmy-cub,
Mom and I went on our own little date. We dropped the boys with your aunt and cousin. Have fun with Ronald (but not too much).
Dad
A date, with the buffoon! How low the mighty have fallen, eh Princess? Shego stalked up the stairs to Kim's bedroom.
Inside, she picked out some clothes for herself. Let's see: green sweater, black shirt, green capris, one green sock, one black… good enough for now.
She stripped off Kim's mission outfit, but paused before re-dressing herself.
She stood at Kim's vanity, looking back at her reflection with disgust. Ugh, this hair! I hate red. And what does this girl eat, rice cakes and water three times a day? I guess she could have some decent curves, after a few years of steaks and weight-training. With some work, I could get used to it…
She shook her head violently to shake out the ill-conceived thoughts crowding her borrowed skull. No! Stick to the plan: get to airport, steal plane, fly to Caribbean lair, get spare cargo craft, go pick up Drakken, double-cross others, leave! Easy!
A few minutes later, she was dressed and ready to go. She locked the Kimmunicator in Kim's dresser drawer and made for the front door. She was startled to find Ron on the other side, dressed casually and holding a picnic basket. He leaned in for a welcoming peck on the cheek, but Shego skillfully pushed aside saying, "Not tonight, lover-boy, I have stuff going on!"
"Aw, what is this KP, playing coy?" He held up the basket. "I worked hard on this Fettuccini Alfredo!"
Shego stopped short. "Fettuccini Alfredo?"
"Yes ma'am, the finest Chez Ron cuisine, with special blanket-side service in Middleton Park!"
Just then a smell hit Shego through Kim's nose; a heavenly aroma of delicate seasonings and robust flavor. "Is that—homemade garlic bread I smell?"
"Oh, you know it!"
It smells so good! I haven't been able to eat; the side-effects from those power-dampers were making me queasy all week. But my body can't digest milk—wait a sec. My body can't, but this one…She turned to Ron, and did her best to fake a sweet smile. "Let's be off, then!"
"Alright! Our chariot awaits!" He gestured over to a beat-up old brown minivan, something long past the prime of its operational life, and extremely unfashionable even when brand-new. Ron giggled nervously, "My, uh, my dad said I could borrow the van since my scooter's completely kaput."
Shego sighed. She hoped to herself that the meal would be worth being seen in such company.
Kim awoke from her drugged sleep, still groggy, to the noise of someone in the room. She saw the light on the security camera go out, as its cable was severed.
Someone's making a try at me! I gotta get loose! Oh, I can barely move!
"Miss Possible!" came a hushed voice. "I'm here to help you get out!"
Kim strained to recognize the speaker. "Who are you?"
"That does not matter. I will aid your escape, and the re-capture of the other inmates, if you negotiate for a reduced sentence when you get back to, well, yourself. My robust tan is fading in the darkness here!"
"Junior?"
"Uh, no! It is, um, Frugal Lucre!"
"Give it up, Junior, and turn on the darn light!"
"Yes Ma'am."
Kim was shocked to see him. His face was unshaven, his skin had grown pale, and his hair was a mess.
"Now you see my freakish degeneration! My curse! You must get me out, to some place where the sun and Le Goop are not beyond my reach! I beg you!"
"Ok, Junior. You help me, and I'll see what I can do. But, as you can probably tell, I'm having a bit of an image crisis myself."
"I think you look perfectly presentable."
"Yes, but I don't look like me!"
"Point taken; but one step at a time." Junior stepped forward, shattering the stale cake walls of Kim's cell into sweet-smelling crumbs. "Mmm, how tasty! But murder on the thighs, I am certain."
"Good, now these ropes. For some reason, I can't budge them."
Junior tried them, to no result. "Hold on a moment." He bent down, and bit through the arm of the chair. "Fruitcake!"
"Drakken, you insidious madman!" She slipped the freed strap off her wrist, and broke the rest of her bonds loose from the chair. "I think the gas is wearing off, I'm starting to feel a bit stronger."
"Strong enough to take on a prison full of dangerous super-villains?"
"Unless I miss my guess," Kim did a few stretches, and put on a smirk worthy of her body's true owner, "I'm currently the most dangerous thing on this continent!"
Back to work on the tale of woe! Excellent! Chapter 4 in less than five months. A lot less.
