Absolute Turmoil-a SWAT Kats fanfiction

obligatory disclaimer: the SWAT Kats and subsequent characters that have appeared in the series are copyright to Hanna-Barbera...not me. However, Miriam Lynx and characters and situations that have NOT appeared in the series are all products of my overactive imagination. I've never been one for writing a fanfiction...however this one just seemed to spill out of me. It was simply my intention to capture the spirit of the series while giving it a bit of an "adult edge". This does not mean that there will be profanity, nudity or overt sexual situations...however the events and ensuing violence may require an adult maturity.

Prolouge

It had been too long since she had last tasted freedom. It was always said that in captivity, one would start to lose track of the days. Hours would run into hours, minutes into minutes and soon one wouldn't remember when they had lost their freedom. Of course now that her own freedom had been viciously taken from her, due to her own weakness for the wiles of a male pilot, she knew better. It had been one year, three months, fifteen days and this morning since the Megakat City justice department sentenced her to twenty years in prison and each second that ticked passed was maddening! Apparently, the katizens of the metropolis didn't take too kindly to her attempt to blackmail the city out of two million dollars in gold per week in order to use the air space around the bustling city.

For an added...incentive...to ensure the city's compliance, she had created what she called the "vertigo beam". When turned on a pilot he or she would become so overwhelmed with vertigo they would usually black out completely, causing their aircraft to tumble from the sky. She chuckled bitterly then, immersing herself once again in the flood of memories. It wasn't too long after her arrival in Megakat City that she had met her undoing...the SWAT Kats, and in particular, the pilot who was called T-Bone. Never before had she seen a pilot so skilled in manuvering an aircraft. She smiled wryly then, she always did have a soft spot for a kat who could fly...and fly well. Unfortunately, her heart had never brought her anything but trouble, especially in the case of that infernal SWAT Kat, T-Bone. While pretending to have willingly become her Flight Commander, T-Bone was merely using her to gain access to restricted parts of her aircraft so he could plant multiple explosives in order to take her down! She had been furious with him then, as she still was.

But then, there was that letter. Not long after her sentence she received an envelope with no return address on the label. Inside, she had found a letter written to her from T-Bone. The message was short and to the point. Simply stating that while partnering up with her might have been "tempting", it would never have worked due to the fact that he was a "good guy" and she was a "bad girl". As she reflected upon the words written to her, she knew that somehow, even after his betrayal, she was still in love with him. She grinned wryly, figures that she would still harbor feelings for the burly kat. After all, how often had she come across a male pilot who could out-fly her all female air force? Truth to be told, she never had.

Yet it was that those memories were just that...memories. She no longer possessed her air fortress, nor did she have her own personal air force at her beck-and-call. No, T-Bone and his partner saw to it that she lost those things along with her hopes of draining Megakat City of it's financial wealth.

The tall, curvatious she-kat was a vision even without makeup or jewelry. Possessed of long, silken brown hair with two naturally blonde streaks framing sensuously high cheekbones and a pair of piercing brown eyes, Natasha Malashenko sighed deeply. Natasha, or as she was more commonly known as Turmoil (a name which she preferred) lay on the bunk in her cell, starring at the ceiling, absently toying with the hem of her plain blue, prison-issue shirt that matched the equally plain pants.The rough, thick fabric was a far cry to the finery and pomp she was accustomed to. Some might even have said that her tastes might have even neared garish proportions. Turmoil thought differently. She enjoyed being female and loved dressing herself in clothes that would not only enhance her feminine figure, but also surround her with an aura of sexuality and power.

"Lights out, Malashenko!" A plump female guard spat as she passed by, dragging her billy club along the cell bars obnoxiously.

A smile began to pull at Turmoil's lips as the lights were cut off; instantly saturating the cell block's massive expanse in pitch blackness. For so long it seemed she had planned to escape from this hell made of stone and iron, called Atkatraz. However, she never experienced much success. Yet it was, opportunity fell right into her lap. Two months ago she was informed that she had a visitor. Curious, she allowed the prison guards to lead her away, her wrists and ankles in heavy chains. There, seated on the other side of thick, bullet-proof Plexiglass, was a figure of a male she had never seen before.

The figure was strange, ominous. He kept his face mostly hidden beneath a worn baseball cap adorned with the team logo for the Megakat City Thunderbolts and the jacket that he wore sought to conceal any sort of identifying physical characteristics, as it must have been two sizes too big. However, Turmoil was never one to back away from anything out of fear or skepticism. She approached the gentleman with purpose; she didn't want the guards to have the faintest idea that she didn't know who this mystery kat was. Obviously, he had gone through some trouble to see her, she could at least hear what he had to say.

Their conversation was short, hushed and intense. He needed help...only Turmoil could provide it. Why he sought her out and contacted her, she did not quite understand. There were many criminals housed here on this island prison, to choose her out the hundreds who resided here boggled her mind.

"You invented the vertigo beam, did you not?" He had asked.

"Yes, along with many other things..."

"That is why I need your help."

During the past two months, the plot unfurled and his sheer brilliance amazed her. Hope flushed her cheeks as each day passed with fruition. They were kept informed of the other's progress by simply smuggling a small, ordinary-looking key-card back and forth to the other. Usually, a key-card would simply hold a numeric code to gain access to a building, room or warehouse, but the magnetic strip was capable of holding an extensive amount of information.

Turmoil couldn't help but chuckle then. It was almost time. All she had to do was wait.

Elsewhere

Long ago, the shadows befriended him. He felt more at ease in the dark that he did during daylight hours, as if darkness provided him with a protective anonymity. He didn't have to pretend, he could be who he truly was, and right now, he was livid.

"What do you mean he found it!"

"I-I can't explain it to you, boss. But he found the blasted thing and-"

"If you value your life, you will not say the words I think you're about to tell me!"

"I, err, I-I'm sorry...but he has the key."

A powerful fist slammed into wall, causing the plaster to crack, "Now you listen to me very carefully...does he know what's on that key card?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh! You don't think so? You had better hope to whatever holy kats you believe in that he doesn't! Do you have any idea what's on that card? If he finds out the information stored on it...it's all over! It's over for you! It's over for me! And it'll be over for her!"

"Don't worry! I'll get it back!"

"You had better!" The kat shrouded in darkness spat before pausing. Then he continued, "And just in case Agent Laramie does figure anything out...kill him."

In a flash, he hung up the small mobile phone. Picking up his jacket, he draped it around his tall frame, he quickly exited the warehouse and made his way to the gold sedan parked on the street. His anger did not ebb as he settled into the driver's seat, nor did it abate when he started the engine, his ears being enveloped by the roar of the v-6 engine. Shifting into drive, he thought for a moment and heaving a deep sigh, he pondered the new set of circumstances that threatened to destroy his well laid plans.

Perhaps Agent Sammy Laramie's possession of the key wasn't such a bad thing. If he did figure out what was on that card, Laramie would definitely know that someone within the agency was behind such a horrific plot. If that were the case, who could he turn to that he could trust beyond all doubt? There was only one who had earned a name for herself not only for her keen intellect, but also for her straight-as-an-arrow moral character. "Moral Miri", they used to call her in jest. He smiled then, actually finding himself looking forward to pitting his own sharp mind against whom the KBI called their "rising star".

He erupted in laughter then, his sedan passing in front of the mayor's office as a light rain began to fall.