Kim Possible and Street Hawk: Ranger's Eyes p 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible, Street Hawk or Walker, Texas Ranger. Wish I did though.

Hunch and Fugitive Hunting

As Bonnie flies the helicopter toward Huntsville, she recalls what happened after the team had left the doorway.

(Thirty minutes prior)

After leaving the doorway, a still-fuming Bonnie in tow, the undercover team exited the Courthouse and made it's way to the alleyway where Rolling Base was parked at. When they got there, they informed Norman of what they had found out.

To say he was distressed would have been an understatement. Without further ado, he decided it'd be best for the team to keep an eye on the bus as it headed for Huntsville. Much to his surprise, Bonnie volunteered for the assignment, sure that she could be discreet and quick at the same time.

"Discretion's not important right now though, is it?" Activating her communications, Bonnie says, "This is War Bird. We have an escape in progress. Repeat. An escape in progress."

"War Bird, this is Walker. Where are you at right now?"

"I'm just outside of Dallas, on the road heading towards Huntsville. The bus just plain stopped. Wait one. Oh no. Not good!"

"What is it, War Bird? Talk to me."

"Five prisoners and two men wearing camouflage are extracting from the bus, heading toward a waiting yellow van and they're holding a female Guard hostage."

"I copy that, War Bird. I'm on my way."

"Understood, Walker." With that, she begins landing the helo, just as Walker's voice comes back up.

"I've got DPS on the way. What prompted you to follow the bus anyways?"

"Just playing a hunch, Walker. Just playing a hunch. War Bird is touching down and investigating." Just as the helo hits the ground, the van drives away, at a high rate of speed. "The van is on the move. I think I have the license plate. Let me check."

Pressing the side of her helmet, she thinks, 'Thank goodness for this new record/playback option.' Sure enough, she has the number and gives it to Walker.

"I copy, War Bird. I'm almost at your position now."

"I copy, Sergeant." She then steps out of the helo and heads for the bus. When she gets there, she finds a gruesome scene. 'Okay, no need to check for a pulse. This one's dead from being filled with so much lead.' Drawing her .45, she sweeps the interior of the bus and finds nothing else.

Upon hearing Walker's siren stop, she hastily exits the bus. Once on the road, she comes across Walker. "The driver of the bus was already dead. Looks like Rockwaller and Foster went with the other prisoners. I'm going after that psycho loser now."

"All right. I'm coming with you." As the two walk toward the helo, Walker smirks and says, "Gage and Sydney told me you're a great pilot."

"I have my days." Activating her communications, she says, "War Bird to all other team members in the field. We have fugitives, I repeat, fugitives, just outside of Dallas. One of them has been identified as Samuel Rockwaller. Please head to the coordinates you're about to receive." Upon getting their confirmation, she gets into the pilot's seat and fires up the turbines.

'Now I know how that guy felt when he went after that psycho. It's only too fucking bad I have no missiles onboard here at the moment. Guess the guns will have to do. Come on, baby. Let's go get Daddy back into Prison.'

As she lifts the collective up, she recalls the most painful day in her heart.

(Flashback)

An excited six year old Bonnie was up in her room, brushing her favorite doll's hair and chattering nonstop. "Someday, Johnny Schmidt and I are going to be married to each other, Nancy. Doesn't that sound exciting?" Upon pretending to hear the doll's reply of 'yes', Bonnie giggled and added, "We'll live happily ever after."

"Bon-Bon, if you don't get going, you'll be late for your play-date with Johnny!"

"Thanks, Mommy! I'll be right down!" Turning her attention back to her doll, Bonnie then said, "If all goes well, Nancy, I can get Johnny to come over for a tea party." Putting the doll down onto her bed, she excitedly left her bedroom and came across her ten year old sisters. "Bye Lonnie, bye Connie." Lonnie and Connie's soft giggles were their replies as they knew how she felt about Johnny.

As she skipped along the sidewalk, Bonnie went over the different names in her mind. 'Bonnie Schmidt, Mrs Johnny Schmidt.' Just for fun, she added a slight variation. 'Mr Johnny Rockwaller.' Upon seeing Johnny and his friends across the street, she looked both ways and began crossing when a car came up over the hill. When she saw the car slow down, she quickly waved at the driver and finished crossing.

"Johnny!" Upon hearing her shout, Johnny turned back and smiled at Bonnie. What happened next would haunt the young brunette forever. The 'friends' hoisted Johnny up and threw him into the street. Right into the path of the car. As Bonnie screamed, Johnny's lanky form impacted with the car, starring it's windshield. The car never stopped, but Bonnie went right to Johnny's side, pleading for him to be all right.

"Johnny, Johnny, please speak to me! Johnny!" Bonnie wailed in anguish when Johnny didn't reply. Next thing she knew, she felt a pair of arms gently lift her up. "Please, you have to help him!" She then saw a Police Officer bend down and check on the youth. Next thing she knew, the Officer looked back, grimaced and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, little one. He didn't make it." The Police Officer's voice was professional, yet filled with emotion.

Bonnie felt the arms release her and she collapsed onto the street, whimpering and sobbing. The other youths were later caught with Bonnie's help and charged with involuntary manslaughter. However, due to their ages, they were sent to the Juvenile Hall facility in Denver.

Johnny's funeral was a press-involved event, seeing that Johnny's parents owned the 'Upperton Journal'. Bonnie, her Mother, Father and sisters were there to give Mr and Mrs Schmidt their condolences. In turn, Mr and Mrs Schmidt thanked Bonnie for being such a good friend to Johnny and told her she'd always be welcome to visit them.

Bonnie snaps back to the present, already knowing what had come six months after that.

Inside the van, Sam is wondering about how his youngest daughter got involved with Team Hawk. 'Was she blackmailed, or did she get a higher calling?'

Slater, on the other hand, is thinking about the trial the previous day.

(Yesterday)

"This Court will now come to order. The Honorable Richard Thompson presiding."

"Be seated. Okay, we have theft of Military firearms by a white supremacist group. Along with conspiracy and possibility of sale. How do the defendants plead?"

Slater stood up and proudly declared, "Not guilty, your 'Honor'. My friends and I are not subject to your 'Laws'."

The Judge smiled ruthlessly and said, "I knew you'd say that." Turning his attention to the DA, he said, "Call your first witness, Mrs Walker."

"Thank you your Honor. I call Ben Baxter to the stand." When Ben Baxter reached the stand, Slater could have sworn his eyes were going to pop out of his skull.

"Bobby? What the hell are you doing here? You're one of us, you traitor!"

"Order! Order!" Thompson slammed his gavel down repeatedly and said, glaring at Slater, "You will respect this Court as long as you're in here. Is that understood, Mr Slater?"

"It is, your 'Honor'." The contempt was so thick, Slater didn't bother trying to hide it.

"Proceed, Mrs Walker."

"Thank you, your Honor. Mr Baxter, would you please tell us what your name and occupation is?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Agent Ben Baxter. I'm with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. I went undercover to infiltrate the Defendants' group to investigate the thefts of Military weapons."

"Isn't that usually FBI territory?"

"Typically, yes. But, every single FBI Agent sent in undercover was compromised. So, the DOJ saw fit to send in a 'wild-card' of sorts."

"I'm guessing that'd be you."

"Correct, ma'am. You see, I'm not only an ATF Agent, I'm also a bit of an actor."

"How'd you come into that?"

"It was something a Runner once said to me."

"A Runner?"

"Yes, ma'am. A Banzai Runner. He approached my Uncle and myself and felt I'd make a good actor."

"Well, seeing as you're still alive, you're a terrific actor."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Now that we cleared up a few details, how'd the Defendants steal the weaponry?"

"Using ambush tactics, very old ones at that, they were able to steal rifles, machine guns, grenade launchers and grenades. Along with rocket launchers."

"Any land-mines?"

"Only on occasion, but not very often."

"How would they ambush the shipments?"

"They'd divert the trucks onto a detour road and block the road using a battered grey van. They would then disarm the soldiers guarding the shipments and tie them up."

"Were any soldiers killed?"

"In my presence, no ma'am. Before I arrived, who really knows?"

"I see. Earlier, you mentioned the previous Agents sent were compromised. Would you care to elaborate?"

"Yes ma'am. It seems one of the defendants was with the FBI before joining up with Mr Slater. He could, quite literally, smell the training on them. Those men never had a chance."

"Did you see the bodies at all?"

"No ma'am. But, I did see part of a field that was covered over. Mr Slater told me that spot was where they'd put Feds or even cops if they ever tried infiltrating."

"How'd you avoid it? Your acting skills?"

"Yes ma'am. Before I began my assignment, I began soaking in the content matter I had available to me. Needless to say, it turned my stomach quite a bit."

"I see, Agent Baxter. How were you able to make contact?"

"It wasn't easy. I'll tell you that much, ma'am. I was watched constantly and, quite frankly, it was getting on my nerves. I mean, the ex-Fed was watching me so intently, it made me think he was a weirdo."

"I'm not a weirdo, you little prick!" The ex-Fed jumped up and started screaming at him. "You'll burn in Hell, you traitor!"

"How could I be a traitor if I was never on your side to begin with?" Baxter shrugged and added, "Simple. I can't."

"You're a traitor to your race!"

"No. You're a scumbag. You betrayed your fellow Agents and caused them to die! I hope you get the Chair!"

"Order, order!" Thompson slammed his gavel down repeatedly again until order was restored. "In light of Agent Baxter's testimony and the raw emotions, I'd say it's time for me to render my verdict. Will the defendants please rise?"

Once they'd risen, he began. "There can only be one fit punishment for you all. Forty years, hard labor, in a maximum-security facility." Giving the men a sharp glare, he added, "I'll let the Federal Attorney decide on what to do with you, Mr Former FBI. You could very well face the Death Penalty. May God have mercy on your souls."

Slater snaps out of the memory and growls angrily. As he looks around, he sees Sam looking over at the bound Guard, smirking at her long blond hair and blue eyes.

"She'd make an excellent breeder for the master race."

Slater nods and replies, "Yes, she certainly would, Sammy."

"Like hell I will, you shit-eatin' piece of white trash!" The Guard is slapped, hard, by Foster before she can say anything else.

"Got a name, bitch?"

"Sally Clark. What's yours, asshole?" Before Foster can reply, they all hear a helicopter's rotors, along with rapid gunfire.