Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all associated characters portrayed and/or implied inside this fanfict belong solely unto Walt Disney Productions.
Unsettling Silence
Kim and Ron neared their destination. Neither dared to open their mouths.
Ron, afraid he'd say or do something to spoil the big surprise after this mission. There was something he'd wanted to ask his best friend/soulmate for over a year now. It'd take some time to muster up the courage to propose and overtime hours to buy a suitable engagement ring.
They'd already married at Yamanouchi. No one else knew about this. Kim continued to live with her parents. And he stayed home, as well. Now, they wanted to make their union public. He'd suspected for a while that's why Kim had been acting so curt lately. She'd grown tired of a married couple living apart. It was time they grew up, well, mostly him, and took responsibility for their actions.
Ron was right. That was what Kim wanted. Alas, his secrecy lately had only succeeded in driving a deeper wedge between them. Kim, meanwhile, didn't have a clue he intended on proposing after this mission.
Hell, she was so livid at this point. She probably wouldn't notice if he asked point blank. Her mind weighed down with worries. They'd lived apart so long. Maybe he'd gotten tired of waiting on his wife and started to date someone else and seek comfort in her arms.
She'd known Ron' since Pre-K. She thought she knew him better than anyone else. In fact, they'd been dating over 3-years now. His alleged unfaithfulness makes her start to question everything she'd once thought she knew about her best friend/soulmate.
Her 'Prince Charming' had consistently lied unto her over the past year. Oh, at first, they were small 'white lies,' if such a thing really exists. In retrospect, she started to question their veracity. She couldn't help feeling responsible, thinking.
Maybe their relationship wouldn't have deteriorated so fast if she hadn't let those 'white lies' slide so nonchalantly? Maybe she should've confronted him sooner? Maybe, then, his heart would still be hers, and hers alone.
Alas, she played stupid—letting these lies, being late for school, missing prearranged dates, forgetting to check in or join the briefings before critical missions, like this morning, slide without saying anything. No more. These 'small things' had started to add up, fast.
She'd spoken with her most trusted girlfriends. Every confidant gave her the same advice, "Girl, the handwriting is on the wall. Your man's cheating on you, dump his two-timing, Jerk". Even she couldn't deny what it looked like.
All the evidence supported their conclusion. Ron was cheating. And yet, her heart simply couldn't believe he'd throw away so easily a relationship they'd spent years building. His persistent lies made it harder to trust him.
She couldn't deny the facts, entire. Ron could be cheating. Yori topped her list of suspects. Her heart advises her—give the boy a chance, let him explain himself before taking any drastic actions by ending this relationship. There could be a logical reason behind his recent promiscuous behavior.
He'd known her long enough. Ron could tell by her ireful micro-expression. She'd never been this damn furious. Over what? At who? He didn't have a clue. He simply knew he didn't want to be in that idiot's shoes.
Oh, she'd held back her legendary temper so far. Even he could tell it'd become an increasing struggle. She'd soon lose control, which was probably why she was itching for a fight. Ron resolves he'd let Shego pull the pin on that grenade. The plasma-wielder was more durable. She could roll with the punches.
Mandrake Bio-Research, Inc., come into open view. She slams on brakes and cuts her steering wheel sharply without warning while also pulling her emergency brake.
Ron screams in mortal terror as their car skids into a full 180-degree turn until coming to rest alongside the adjoining curb, front bumper pointing in the opposite direction from which they'd came.
Kim kills Annie's engine then jumps out without warning, making her way towards the entrance, expecting Ron would follow behind when his brain catches up. He was always a little slow. She triple-taps her kimmunicator activating her battle armor.
"I have your back, KP," Ron falls behind shadowing her every step along the way.
"Let's pray so, Ron," she snips, brows furrowed and mouth curled in betrayal. The duo approaches the corporation's entrance. Kim observes the smashed tempered glass doors. Glass shards strewn everywhere. Edges charred so rapidly. Many shards had already turned to a glassy liquid solvent.
Kim steps inside, followed closely by her partner. She didn't see their lead suspects anywhere in sight. She taps her kimmunicator signaling their field op coordinator, "Wade, where are they?"
Wade had already tapped into Mandrake Bio-Research, Inc.'s security cameras. He'd monitored Drakken and Shego's progress, who didn't show any signs of trying to cover their steps. He provides the intel replying, "They're on the 22nd floor, Section 4, Lab G-3, Kim".
Kim couldn't go any further without at least knowing, "Are their any countermeasures we should be concerned about along the way, Wade?"
"None," he slurps his 36-oz Coca-Cola.
His word was good enough. Kim goes to advance.
Ron grasps her shoulder lightly, something about all this not sitting right with him. "Wade, this place has Pentagon-grade security. Why…?"
"Had Pentagon grade security, as in past tense, Ron," Wade hints how easily Shego disabled this top-notch security countermeasures.
Ron may be slow. Even he wasn't clueless. He reads between the lines enough to deduce, "Shego".
"Shego disabled everything, before Drakken and she headed towards the vacuum-sealed, climate-controlled G3-lab on the 22nd floor".
Ron nods in compliance. There wasn't any immediate danger. He didn't see why he should overreact anymore. He reaches for the elevator button ready to ride unto the 22nd floor.
Kim grabs his hand quickly, berating, "Now, who's being careless? Countermeasures or not, taking the elevator will only alert Drakken and Shego about our presence, giving away our edge here".
Again, he couldn't deny she had a point. "How should we…?" His voice trails off as he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Kim didn't know if he was cheating or not. Either way, his secrecy had caused her so much mental and emotional pain. "There," she points towards the stairs with a devilish smirk.
Ron notices her abrupt mood change. At least he'd learn something. He wasn't sure what he'd done. Her reaction, though, assured him. He'd done something to aggravate his partner, because she'll relish every heaving breath as he trudges his way up 22-flights of stairs.
She'd gotten her point across. Kim didn't need to say anything else. The silence was enough. "Wade, please unlock Stairwell C's electronic lock, please".
The tech wiz smiles, hands flying across his keyboard. The stairwell alarm disarms and red-light panel flash green. She opens the door rushing upstairs, skipping two and three steps per stride.
Ron was hot on her heels.
So We Meet Again
Kim exits the stairwell, turns right and rushes down a long narrow hallway, which dead-ends outside Section #4: Bio-Engineering. She didn't know it. But, she'd walked into a cleverly laid trap. Her weight triggered a pressure plate planted behind a nearby wall.
Annie detects its surging power levels. She auto-activates the battle suit's shielding. Lab G3's exterior wall explodes mere seconds later. The concussive waves knock her backwards, slam off her feet, while also dispersing flying debris in every direction.
Kim escapes serious injury, temporarily sprawled over the floor and body covered in metallic and concrete shards along with various other debris. She kicks the debris off, raises her feet back, and leaps back onto her feet, only then dropping into a fighting stance ready for action.
"Nice move, Princess," Shego praises her battle readiness. Princess had surely grown up lately. She easily taken her younger opponent down with that trap less than 2-years ago.
"I have more, Shego," Kim promises she wasn't done yet.
"You'd better have more, because that pathetic move, while impression over your past moves, it won't cut it now, though," Shego waves her hands inviting Kim to make the first move.
Kim didn't take the bait. She didn't budge an inch.
Shego loses patience fast yelling, "Get her!"
Ten henches shimmers into open view.
"Don't worry, KP. I have your back, now and always," Ron takes a bold stance alongside his best friend.
All henches arms their stun batons moving towards them.
"You stop Shego," Ron enjoins her moving towards these unlucky bastards. "I'll handle these washed up henches".
Kim wasn't sure what happened next. It'd happened so many times. She'd lost count how many. Ron steps wrong, his belt breaks, or something else. His pants fall down around his ankles.
Every hench stops cold in their tracks. Their eyes locked upon their pant-less opponent then glares back among themselves before keeling over in boisterous laughter.
And how could she miss his Batman boxers? Kim groans inwardly wondering, 'What grown man—and she uses the term lightly—wearing kids' underclothes to a battle? Oh, boy'. She couldn't help but wonder. Was this all an act?
Ron was a mystical monkey master. And yet, he can't keep his own pants up. Something was off here. She couldn't quite place what. Was he afraid to show his true skills, afraid his mystical monkey powers might upstage her own natural abilities? And, if he did, would she turn against him? If so, she can kinda understand his overt clumsiness.
While Ron's antics stopped the henches cold, it'd also distracted Kim long enough, giving Shego and Drakken a window of opportunity to get away. Kim turns back noticing them escaping. She loses her temper, slapping her palms together.
Drakken enters Stairwell D. Kim's clap echoes like thunder throughout the 22nd floor. Shego turns on instinct, watching in shock as
Kim deploys a 30-inch long and 3-cm thick scarlet red Escrima fighting cane. She activates her suit's acceleration shoes moving at blinding speed—kicking, flipping, punching, and somersaulting, while delivering precision combination blows rendering every hench unconscious within 30-seconds.
Ron knew better than interrupt her playtime, especially when in this mood. He pulls his pans up then fastens his belt buckle. He gets busy zip-tying the unconscious henches' hands behind their backs, while his partner makes his way towards their fleeing suspects.
"Shego, let's go," Drakken screams over his shoulder.
Shego turns back. "I can't, Princess…" She never got any further.
Kim reaches her position delivering a mighty blow against the right side of her forehead and a whole roundhouse kick.
Shego wasn't expecting this blow. Kim moving so fast. She couldn't even see her move. Shego simply couldn't ward off this blow in time. She soars backwards plowing headfirst through a marble wall. Back momentum snatches her head from the hole.
Shego rolls over, partially dazed but definitely not down for the count. "Oh," she stalls her rival's next attack with a little witty banter, where she could better recover from this surprise attack, "something's tweaked you this morning, didn't it, Princess?"
"Shut up!" Kim barks, not showing any pity over her attack's brutality.
"What was it this time? Are you embarrassed that your date still can't keep his own pants up? I know that it can be tough sometimes but you…"
Kim loses her temper attacking again.
Shego didn't bother protecting herself.
Kim twirls her cane striking her left cheek.
Shego loses her footing again tumbling several times over serrated debris. She didn't cry in pain or beg her opponent to quit. She laughs with contempt crawling back onto her feet.
Kim jabs her opponent in the stomach.
Shego collapses upon her knees holding her aching stomach. Piercing coughs and gasping replaced by derisive laughter.
Drakken couldn't take anymore chances. Shego had certainly lost this fight. Her very life was on the line here. He wasn't sure what was wrong. Possible had certainly lost somewhere along the way. She was so irate. Mercy was the least of her concerns.
She wanted payback, over something. Again, he wasn't sure what. Drakken only knew, she wanted someone to unleash her frustrations against. And she didn't care who. Her attacks proved so swift and decisive. Shego couldn't recover before Possible would land another blow, followed by another, then another.
Drakken started to seriously worry. How much longer could she endure this brutal assault? He didn't have time to debate his actions. Drakken enacts Basset-Hound-666's plan. He saves a single bottle of the Emmio-7 mutagen then rushes back downstairs skipping two and three steps along the way.
Shego's cries echoing up and down the stairwell. Drakken determined to save his partner no matter what. He leaps over the railing bursting into the 22nd hallway. And there she was. Shego lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood.
Shego wouldn't give up, though. She leaps back onto her own feet, though somewhat wobbly still.
Kim times her recover. She spins upon her right heel landing another powerful roundhouse kick aside the green thief's right temple. She knew the comet powered woman could take this abuse and more. She wouldn't die so easily.
Shego, again, soars backwards. Her back impacts the adjacent lab's tempered glass window. The forward momentum alone was enough to shatter the window into a million tiny pieces. She still refuses to give her enemy the dignity of hearing her cry aloud anymore. Instead, she does what she knew her young rival would least expect. Shego whistles aloud.
Drakken receives his signal acting faster. He steps from the shadows…
Ron catches movement in his peripheral vision. He barely recognizes Drakken in time screaming, "Kim, watch out!"
Drakken throws every vial in his hand.
Her senses are usually hypersensitive during missions. Ron's unexpected warning kicks her instincts into overdrive. Kim's mind didn't have time to even process Ron's warning and what was going down. She spins upon her right heel swinging her fighting cane.
The wooden pole impacts several vials with enough force easily shattering their glass exterior, while the rest soar past her shattering against the marble floor. Unknown chemicals and pathological samples splatter over drenching Kim head to toe.
Kim wasn't sure what this stuff was. Alas, given the nature of this lab's research and the fact these 'samples' burned her skin like hot coals, even her frazzled brain processes they must be contagious. That was when activates her battle suit's Level-4 bio-containment protocols.
Annie releases a section of her owner's battle suit. The material breaks apart into tinier pieces. Annie still hooked into each section scanning the area, using this telemetry to calculate the bio-containment zone and bubble's required parameters necessary to contain this outbreak, only then feeding this info into these nanites, who get busy constructing to bubble precisely to Annie's specs. Meanwhile, the battle suit's own nanites repair its breach.
Drakken and Shego gape in absolute shock. They'd studied this battle suit's specs many times. Hell, they'd even tried to replace one for themselves, taking away Team Possible's only edge against them. Alas, all their efforts proved futile. All experiments met with unmitigated failure. Even their best minds couldn't understand why.
Drakken nudges his partner's right arm, saying without ever opening his mouth, 'Shego, let's go!'
She would've usually beaten this blue freak to a pulp for ever touching her. Yet, give their very extenuating circumstances she makes an exception, Shego starts towards the exit, behind him.
"Hey, you," Ron takes off running towards them.
"I wouldn't, Monkey Boy," Shego threatens him with palms lit.
Kim was sidelined. She couldn't help. Her very life hinged upon what he did next. He had no valid reason to hold back any longer. Ron didn't stop, activating his mystical monkey powers, knowing they'd easily match Shego's plasma powers, especially since he'd learnt how to mimic her plasma with his own powers. Oh, it wasn't plasma, per se. That didn't mean this attack wouldn't still burn like hell, paying them back for how they'd hurt KP.
Drakken draws back. He recalled how easily this blond menace beat two 9-feet tall aliens. He'd never say this openly. Shego would beat him unconscious, maybe even kill him. But, she couldn't handle Warmonga.
And yet, this buffoon beat her without breaking a sweat. Drakken seriously doubted Shego could take Kim Possible's partner, whatever his name was. He could never recall. He could only think of one way to stop this raging bull.
Drakken draws back another vial threatening, "I'd listen to her, Buffoon, if you value your partner's life. This vial contains Emmio-7 mutagen. If it shatters against, it'll eat through her containment bubble. Emmio-7 is a mutagenic compound, turning your partner into who know what". He lets this threat hang in the air, hoping his bluff would rein in this lunatic.
His plan works better than expected. Ron stops cold in his tracks. His whole body still glowing royal pissed off blue. Ron inquires behind gritted teeth and clenched fists, "What do you want, Drakken?"
Drakken stands his ground, despite every limb trembling in terror. The buffoon's predatory glare boring straight into his soul's depths, making all his worst nightmares come true. He states on what one condition he'll spare the spry redhead's life, "Shego and I will leave here with our merchandise. Then, you can get your partner some medical help, deal?"
"Take her and leave, while you still can, Drakken," Ron steps back. A blue sheen stained his pupils.
"Shego, let's go," Drakken nudges his partner again, verbally this time. He doubted his nemesis would last much longer. Then, again, he couldn't forget one fact. Monkey Boy had already killed two enemies. He'd gotten the taste for blood. That why Drakken didn't want to be here when she passed away.
Kim Possible was always the safety cap on this blond ball of bubbling rage. Why else had the villain community waited so long in exactly its revenge over how many times she'd spoil their plans? No one wanted to deal with the aftermath.
Drakken feared what'd happened when she takes her last breath. No safety left. Monkey Boy will give into his grief, prompting him to react more recklessly. Worse yet, he'll direct all that pinned up rage towards them. And he wouldn't stop until they were dead, ground into powder dead, no evidence left.
Shego didn't argue. She, too, shared his concerns.
Ron may be slower than most. Even he couldn't miss two subtle facts. First, Shego initially gasps in shock, when Drakken hit KP with everything in his hand. Her reaction hints maybe she didn't know anything about her boss' vile plan to infect Kim, her Princess.
Then, again, neither could he excuse the grief thief's seditious grin. Shego had always lived by this twisted code, 'Cripple but never kill your opponent'. She may not have initially intended to cross that moral line.
She had an opportunity to rebuke her boss' actions. Her actions could've even saved Kim, because maybe then they'd know exact how Drakken infected KP. Alas, initially ignorant or not, that seditious grin and the fact she decided to leave with Drakken without any argument only proves she invariably support his murderous actions.
In Ron's book, Shego was worse than Drakken. At least the Overgrown Smurf voiced his contempt openly threatening them in numerous occasions, not hiding behind some faux veil of morality, which he never intended on upholding.
Ron appeals unto whatever humanity she had left, "What about you, Shego?" He prayed she'd change her mind. Maybe then she'd switch sides and share what she knew about Drakken's plans. That was their best chance at saving his partner.
Shego unintentionally exonerates herself by proliferating her own ignorance, "I told, Dr. D, that using that knockout gas was a stroke of genius". She'd had her say. She didn't regret a single action, while she limps towards Stairwell D's exit.
Kim stops them all cold—her partner too—threatening their enemies, "Run, Little Rabbits, run!" She cracks up laughing manically when she should be keeled over in pain and uncontrollable spasms.
Drakken and Shego stop cold in their tracks, unable to resist their innate curiosity which urged them to turn around. Both gasps in shock, appalled and nauseated by what their eyes behind next. Kim Possible was still on her feet.
Her body covered in boles, welts, and chemical burns, large sections of her right cheek and under her chin literally eaten away, while various bio-samples seeped into her open wounds and through her pores. Her eyes locked upon Shego and Drakken, following them whatever they move.
Shego perceives her nemesis wanted to say something but maybe didn't have the physical strength. She couldn't miss her pupils weren't their usual green but icy blue. She breaks the ice asking pointedly, "What's that supposed to mean, Princess?"
Her next answer chills the green thief's bones. "You're both dead, you hear me, D-E-A-D!" Kim chokes out between every pained breath, as if threatening them with her last breath.
Drakken backs away, terrified by how eerily her eyes turn a deeper shade of blue as her voice grows deeper and resoundingly more menacing. "Dead? Get real!" He chuckles nervously, moving side to side, as if ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. "You're dying not us. And yet, you're threaten us!"
"Laugh while you can. It won't last long, I promise you," Kim throws her head back laughing while also choking and spitting up blood. Hers and Shego's blood pooling beneath her own feet.
She'd started to seriously worry him. Ron turns back towards his partner beseeching her, "KP, this isn't funny. Why are you threatening these idiots? Just let them go. You should be…"
"Oh, they're free to leave, anytime they wish," she acts as though she'd heeded his plea.
Drakken and Shego turn again ready to leave this eerie place behind.
Kim looks past her partner stopping her enemies cold, again, this time faster than previously, "Enjoy your freedom while you can, Drakken, because neither of you will make it that far!" She loses all physical strength as her knees give out. Kim falls square on her backside.
Princess was dying. And she'd apparently done something which put their lives and possibly their families, too, in mortal danger. She must find out what. Maybe then she could protect her idiot brothers. Shego takes a bold step toward but without provoking Monkey Boy contending with her longtime rival, "Princess, you're not making any sense".
Kim didn't pull any punches speaking soberly, "Let's face it, Shego. I'm dying. Nothing can save me now. Your idiot boss didn't use simple knockout gas on me. It was something else. And you sided with him, despite knowing this. That why I cannot forgive either of your actions today.
I know Drakken. He'd been my enemy long enough. Even he doesn't quite realize it yet. He's addicted to our routine battles. They're partially what give him a purpose in life. He won't stop 'our battle,' despite witnessing my death. His compulsive personality will drive him to hunt my family next. For this reason, I cannot allow him to live. Or you either".
"KP, you can't…"
"It's okay, Monkey Boy," Shego sympathizes with his opposition and the dying redhead's resolution. She'd do the same thing in her shoes.
"My contract, is that it, Kimmie?" Shego wanted to understand her motivation.
"Yes," Kim nods, while bracing her body with her right arm. Left one already gone limp and unusable. It'd ceased to respond. She willed the muscle but it wouldn't move. Not an inch.
"So, you're killing us to save your family?"
"Is there a better reason? Isn't that why you betrayed your oath?"
Princess' words cut deeper than anyone else could possibly ever understand. Shego, however, couldn't let this jab stand retorting, "I'm not the only one who betrayed her oath, Princess".
"I know," Kim doesn't offer any apologies or excuses. She'd made the only available choice. She'd accept whatever the consequences in her next life.
"What kind of reception did you arrange, Cupcake?"
Kim still didn't break eye contact. Nor did her eyes look their cerulean luster. Kim impressed the utter futility of their struggle, "Kill Ron, Wade, or our families, every last member. Even their deaths won't stop the inevitable".
"Inevitable?" Drakken chokes out. A dying woman had no reason to bluff. He starts to seriously worry she'd made contingency plans to exact her revenge against whatever enemy finally took her down.
"Let me elaborate, You Idiot," Kim lays out her vengeance. "Wade and Ron know a lot about my daily life, probably more than anyone else, even my parents. Plus, all three of us devised contingencies in case an enemy brainwashed one of us to uncover our team's darkest secrets.
That's why—knowing our team members' strengths and weaknesses—we devised contingencies to bring this person down without killing him/her while giving up a chance to break this mind control. Well, I'm more thorough than my partners.
That's why I already had a contingency in Ron or I became contaminated for any reason. If accidental, my people would do nothing. If on purpose—because I know there was always a possibility an enemy could infect us on purpose, I appointed my avenger of blood".
'Avenger of Blood?' Shego didn't like this title. It sounded like something you'd call an assassin. She tests an unsettling theory forming deep inside her unconscious mind, "What will this avenger of blood actually do, Princess?'
Kim painful expression vanished, for precious few seconds, replaced by a seditious grin, mirroring the one Shego flashed earlier while mocking the dying redhead's escalating pain. She took sadistic delight in delivering this last part, "As you know, Ron and Wade along with our families are Team Possible's backbone, the crux of our power. Well, you may not know, I have other teams as well".
"What!?" Ron couldn't stay quiet any longer.
Shego shares his curiosity. She'd watched Princess—even shadowed her on certain jobs. And yet, even she never suspected this last part. "Who are they?" Shego starts to seriously worry, because at least one of these teams comprised assassins. She wanted to know her enemies' affinities.
Kim obliges her longtime rival's curiosities, "I've left explicit instructions with a certain team's leader, if murdered, upon my death he/she should exchanged my remaining 'favor vouchers' for cash money then take this money an issue a bounty over my murderers heads, including their families, if involved".
"Wait, what? Mommy!" Drakken starts to panic worse, worried more about his family's than his own safety.
"Mommy? Did you—a grown man—just say mommy!?" Shego slaps her own forehead, ashamed she'd ever been seen with this idiot.
Drakken ignores her insult adjuring, "How much is this bounty?"
"No less than $1 million, Dr. Dimwit," Kim falls over. Blood oozing down her arms and lower limbs. Her physical strength expended so much. She could no longer hold herself erect.
"Possible, you can't!" Drakken pleads, knowing they'll never be safe again with such a heft bounty hanging over their heads.
"KP, please! Don't do this," Ron pleas for their enemies' lives. Bitter tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Sorry, Ron, I couldn't change my outstanding orders even if I wanted to, which I don't," Kim sets her eyes upon her longtime rival. She knew she was about to pass out.
"Possible, you…"
Kim ignores whatever Dr. Dimwit wanted to say. "See you in hell, Shego," she loses consciousness falling over into a pool of hers and Shego's blood mixed.
Drakken eyes the fallen redhead. Her threat boring even deeper into his rattled soul. He didn't relish living life on the run. Alas, what else could they do? For now, they run. "Let's go, Shego," he nudges her a third time.
"See ya, Princess," Shego glimpses upon the crestfallen hero.
Ron lets them leave. He had more pressing matters. "Wade," he taps his kimmunciator, "I need an ambulance, immediately".
An ambulance? A thousand scenarios race through his mind. Each proving more gruesome than the last. Wade couldn't take the suspense any longer asking, "Why?"
Ron provides the words news possible, "Drakken doused Kim with unknown chemicals".
"Oh, no," Wade starts to panic. He stays calm, determined to collect as much information about the incident as possible. Maybe then he could determine some way to still save her life. "What kind?"
"I don't know, Buddy," Ron bows his head in defeat. His mind wracked with guilt, because he wasn't able to defend his partner. "We can't sample it, either. Kim activated a bio-containment field before losing consciousness".
"I understand," Wade mutes his com. He, then, contacts the necessary health authorities, only then returning to advise him, "The CDC's Hazmat team will be there in 10-minutes, Ron. Whatever you do, stay with her and don't leave or breach that bio-bubble".
"I won't, Old Buddy," Ron plops beside his teammate/partner/soulmate.
Ron resolves he wouldn't tell anyone else about what Kim had done. A hero threatening her enemies' lives would only tarnish her reputation, possibly even get her security clearance revoked, if she survives. He sits alongside his partner chattering away about what he'd done lately.
His grandma had a heart attack once. He still recalls the specialist's advice, 'Keep her calm. Don't give her a reason to be upset. If she is, do everything you can to calm her down as quickly as possible'. Maybe the same applies here? What'd he know! He wasn't a doctor.
Kim had been angry lately. He'd tried to figured out why. Alas, he hadn't come any closer. Yet, he couldn't miss this animosity directed towards him. Ron reasons, he may not know what he'd done wrong, maybe if he shares what he'd done over the last year they'd spent so much time apart, then maybe she'll understand why he'd neglected her so long and forgive him for being so damn stupid.
He should've known better. Kim would appreciate a $200 ring the same as a $5,000 or $1 million engagement ring. His though and how much love he put into this proposal would mean more than the dollar amount. He caved under peer pressure, always thinking Kim deserves better.
Now? He may lose her. Ron couldn't live within himself, if she didn't understand why he'd been absent so often lately. He shares how he'd gotten extra shifts at Smarty Mart, how he'd quick going to Bueno Nacho trying to save money, and put these savings towards her engagement ring, where they could finally announce their marriage unto their families and the world.
Ron wasn't sure if she understood what he was saying. He believed she did, because he'd monitored her vials throughout this whole one-sided conversation, and she'd definitely calmed down a bit. Her vitals dropped. Even so, he wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
20-minutes comes and goes in a blink. Ron was so busy chattering away. He didn't detect masked men and woman approach them wearing environmentally sealed hazmat suits. Ron didn't turn his head until the tranquilizer dart impacts his neck.
Ron instinctively reaches forth his right hand. He tries so hard to grasp hers. Yet, his hand bounces off the containment bubble. Ron gives up, fall over out cold seconds later. His mind gives into the darkness, knowing help had arrived. Kim would be safe now.
Giving Ear
Dean, Pearl, and Hanna Stoppable spent a week in Honolulu and two weeks in Molokai, Hawaii, on an extended vacation. They'd just returned home. Dan dragging their luggage inside the living room door, while his wife and daughter head upstairs to rest up from their long flight home.
He barely gets inside the door, when he hears his living room phone ring. He doesn't initially answer it and heads upstairs, figuring why bother. His son would rush past him and pick it up. It was usually one of his friends anyway.
Only, he gets halfway upstairs, only then noticing the eerie silence now permeating his home. In fact, the house was oddly clean. He didn't see his son anywhere or hear video games blaring from behind his son's bedroom door.
The landline continued to ring, and ring loudly. A sinking feeling grips his stomach. Dan drops their luggage rushing downstairs, praying this foreboding alarm wasn't anything but an overactive imagination. He picks up the telephone on the 8th ring, "Hello".
A gruff, authoritative voice on the other end inquires, "Can I speak with Dean or Pearl Stoppable?"
Dean could tell this caller was female. Yet, he didn't recognize her voice. He prayed this was some telemarketer. Alas, he plays along responding, "I'm Dean Stoppable. May I ask what this call concerns?"
The caller clears her throat nervously. Her mind desperately searching for the right words to deliver horrible news no parent ever wants to hear. "Sir, my name is Dr. Michelle Galliger, M.D., with the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases in Fort Detrick, Maryland…"
'Yep, I was right. She talks just like a telemarketer,' Dean suspects she'd called to collect funds for some charity or research group. He gets these same calls all the time. "Look, Miss," Dean interrupts her sells-pitch, "I don't mean any disrespect. My family and I just returned home from an extended vacation. And we're tired. Can you get to the point? What does this call concern?"
"Your son..." She huffs, thinking. Is that concise and blunt enough?
His 'dad side' kicks into overdrive. He immediately recalls what she'd said only moments ago. She worked for some place in Maryland studying infectious diseases. 'Oh, no,' he settles upon why she'd be calling him this late at night.
"Please forgive my curtness earlier, Doctor. I'm tired, yes. But, I'm never too tired when concerning my son's health.," he shows genuine concern. Maybe then she'll be more forthcoming with what's wrong with Ronnie.
"I'm pleased to hear this, Mr. Stoppable," she appreciates his change in tone.
Dean sets all pleasantries aside asking, "What's wrong with my son, Doctor?"
"Law demands I notify you. The CDC quarantined your son inside my facility, Sir," she waits on what she'd said to sink in, gauging his reaction, before deciding if she should share the rest.
Dean panics, demanding, "How'd this happen?"
She knew then she'd best hold back the rest. Having this worried parent meet the staff. Her superiors would better know what to and not to reveal. She skirts his question, "I'm sorry, Sir, but national security prevents me from discussion your case any further".
"What!? You can't be serious!"
"I'm sorry, Sir. Rules are rules," she stands her legal ground.
"Can you at least tell me how he was infected?" Dean tries to glean whatever info he could.
"I'm sorry, Sir," again, she gives him the same spiel. "I cannot share your son's case any further. If you wish, you can come to U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases in Fort Detrick, Maryland and speak with Major General Nathaniel Holland about your son's case, Sir".
"Can I see my boy?"
"Again..."
"I know, I know, only the general can grant me permission," he slams down the receiver.
Inside Source
Dean races upstairs and straight into the master bedroom.
Pearl turns around upon hearing her husband come back inside their bedroom. They'd been married nearly 30-years now. She discerns he'd learnt something distressing but dreaded sharing this unsettling news.
She knew she'd have to coax the answer. Pearl starts towards her husband sweettalking him the whole time. She reaches his location laying her head against his chest asking, "What's wrong, Darling?"
Dean was a traditionalist. The man was the head over his family. He must be stronger to supplement their weaknesses. That's how a true head holds their family together. Her ear against his chest. She hears him swallow the tears.
He'd only acted this way, once—when Global Justice lost track of their baby while on a mission. He was MIA for nearly two weeks. Thank God it was summer. Authorities prepared them for the worst, warning their son and his partner could be…dead.
Dead? That term hung in her throat like something choking out her life. She pulls away from her husband. Her eyes lock with his. She instantly knew it was true. Her baby was dead or hurt severely. She collapses upon her keens sobbing into his stomach, "My baby, my baby!" Over and over.
Dean had never felt so useless. This tragic news devastated his wife. And he couldn't do anything to relieve her sorrow except say, "Our boy isn't dead, Pearl. Only infected?"
"Infected?" She lifts her head; watery eyes peering deeply into his.
"Yes," he nods.
"With what?"
"I don't know. The doctors wouldn't tell me…"
"Why? We're his parents," Pearl beats her fists weakly against his ack sobbing harder than ever.
This feeling of sheer helplessness grew stronger the harder she sobbed. Again, he couldn't alleviate her pain. He could only suggest, "Calm down, Honey. Call Anne, maybe she knows something".
Pearl breaks his embrace. She slumps over, snatches up the receiver on the nightstand beside their bed, and dials Anne's office at the hospital.
Dean eavesdrops on their conversation, one mother to another.
Anne Possible answers on the 3rd ring, "Hello".
Pearl steadies herself trying to hide how upset she was. Anne was a doctor. Appear too upset and she might not share everything she knows. "Anne," she speaks informally, "are you free to talk for a couple of minutes or so?"
Annie suspected the reason behind this spontaneous call. "You finally heard about Ron?"
"Yes," Pearl nearly breaks down again. But, she retains enough clarity to explain, "The army medical corps spoke with Dean. The doctor wouldn't elaborate about much, though, something about national security or something else along those lines. What happened, Anne?"
"Given I probably know more than most. I still don't know everything…"
"What do you know?"
Anne shares what she could without losing her security clearance, "Major General Nathaniel Holland notified James and I about a week ago. His staff tried repeatedly to reach you in Hawaii but couldn't because you moved around so much. I don't know their mission's specifics. I only know a lab breach infected the children…"
"Lab breach? Infected? How were they infected? And with what?" Pearl barely stayed calm. And she certain didn't have any justifiable reason to be positive now.
Pearl and her husband came off as cold and distant, not giving a damn about their children, only each other. Anne suspected the same thing, initially. James and Anne—like so many other people—never quite understood one thing about the Stoppables' parenting style.
How do you raise a child without showing 'too much emotion'? James and Anne observed Dean and Pearl for man years. And they'd learnt one thing. The eccentric couple's definition of 'too much emotion' evolved over time.
At times, they'd showed their son with love. Other times—for long periods, they'd be standoffish, like they didn't want anything else to do with him. James and Anne now understood the truth. Dean and Pearl didn't really abandon their son.
Rather, they'd withdraw their affection for set periods of time, leaving Ronald unto his own devices, forcing him to grow up, and yes, even make bad decision, forcing him to face every decision's good and bad consequence(s).
Their love became abundantly clearer when they adopted Hana, a Japanese orphan girl. Dean and Pearl showered her with more emotion than James or Anne had ever seen them show anyone else. Anne decides such caring parents deserve the truth, the full truth.
"Dr. Xavier Tomlin, USAMRID's resident trauma/infectious disease specialist, hasn't been able to ascertain exactly what, if anything, Ronald may have contracted during this lab breach. For now, the tetracycline helps..."
Pearl covers her mouth with her only free shaky hand. Her heart sinks in growing despair wondering, "What does those meds do, Annie?"
Anne didn't bother naming her son's meds or outline what symptoms they treated, both individually or collectively. She dumbs down this conversation assuring the grief-stricken mother, "These meds will boost his immunity against these contaminates".
Pearl had known her best friend long enough. She senses Annie was still hiding something. She pushes the issue adjuring her, "What happened, Anne? Truthfully".
Anne breaks down giving her everything, "Two thieves intended to steal some dangerous chemicals. We don't know why but suspect authorities believe they had ties with a political terrorist group, which wanted to detonate a dirty bomb inside the lab as a protest over the research going on there.
Kim and Ron foiled their plan. Their boss retaliated by dousing Kim with multiple vials containing samples of various deadly pathogens, viral strains, biological agents, and mutagenic compounds, while Ron helped lab workers escape for their lives.
Truth is, Pearl, Ron suffered minimal exposure. He's been treated more as a precautionary measure. My baby, though, she bore the brunt. She suffering. And we don't know why. Her symptoms are so damn diverse. They match up with numerous samples. She's…"
Pearl didn't mean to sound so heartless. Ron was her baby. Kim wasn't. She only cared about his safety at this point cutting through this melee asking, "If I understand you, are you saying my baby will be alright, Anne?"
Anne doesn't take this interruption personally. She'd be doing the same thing in Pearl's shoes. "As I said, Pearl," she reiterates what she'd already said, "He's main under observation. He suffered minimal exposure.
Kim erected a BSL-4 bio-field around this lab. Her quickly thinking prevented these pathogens from escaping the lab and infecting these lab workers, neighboring subdivisions, and your son. Plus, Ronald's bloodwork didn't show any visible contaminates within his bloodstream.
I won't lie, though. Ron is sick. He has the flue. I can't say if it's a side effect of him being on the tail end of the contamination zone or what. Doctors are treating his symptoms. Luckily, his body's responding positively unto this treatment, unlike Kim".
"Oh, Dear God, how bad is she, Anne?" Pearl covers her mouth hating herself just then. Pleased, her son wasn't in mortal danger, but sad, at the same time, his best friend was.
"She has less than a 10% chance of surviving this ordeal, Pearl," Anne's voice cracks in sheer desperation.
Pearl knew then doctor doubted Kim would make it much longer. She'd die, soon. She inquires about her conditions, where she could be more specific in her prayers, "Do they know anything, Anne?"
Anne swallows her own pain sharing the dismal news. Maybe Pearl could glean some hope seeing just how blessed her son is to still be alive. And that was because of her daughter's quick thinking.
Anne explains, "The CDC and USAMRID called in Dr. Madelyn Ortiz, the army's microbiological-immunology specialist, about 6-days ago. So many contaminates mixed during initial contact. Even Dr. Ortiz has been able to ascertain what exactly Kim has contracted. Like I said, it could be any combination of things. On a positive note, Dr. Ortiz downgraded Ron's condition last night. He was moved into a private room this morning for observation".
Pearl leans her head back. She didn't mean to bely Anne's pain. Her daughter was sick. She'd probably pass away any day. This knowledge saddened Pearl. And yet, she couldn't help praising God. Her son was alive and recovering. She only wanted to know, "When will they discharge Little Ronnie, Anne?"
"Tomorrow or no later than the next day, Pearl," Anne reassures the grieving mother.
"What about Kim?" Pearl returns unto her son's lover.
Anne sighs in defeat. She'd helped so many people. And yet, even with all her skills, she couldn't help her own daughter. She breaks down sobbing lightly, "The prognosis isn't good. Every answer in her case only raises more questions, confusing us more.
Dr. Ortiz assures us, whatever Kim's contracted and making her sick, it isn't pathogenic, viral, or even biological in nature. In fact, she contracted her mentor, who knows more than her. He should arrive here in 3-days. Maybe then we'll know more? Who knows?"
Piercing silence stretches over the miles. Pearl simply held the phone processing what she'd been told, until hearing, "Dr. Possible, please report to Operating Room #4".
"Pearl, I must go. We can talk more tomorrow, if you wish".
"I'll call, if need be but won't pester you for every little thing, Anne, I promise," Pearl hangs up.
Her husband seconds her sentiments.