BE,S 2: Training Table Blues Chapter 8: 8: Canadian Avalanche Blues, Eh?, a kim possible fanfic

Training Table Blues

Disclaimer/Author's Notes: Kim Possible and all the characters of the show are owned by the Disney Company. All other characters can be blamed on the author (he, however, is not responsible for all of their actions at all times, being barely responsible for himself most of the time….).

All references to any specific character or product by names mentioned in this story are not intended to parody or reflect negatively on the correspondingly existing products; any and all similarities are coincidental.

This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work.

You can read this without reading the background stories, but I would highly recommend (shameless plug) Black Hole Deep, version 2.0 and BE, S 1: Blue Eyes, Shining. You'll enjoy this story even more, and this story will make more sense if it's read in context.

To everyone who has read thus far and continues to read and review: thank you: your reads and reviews continue to fuel me.

A/N Forward:

Questions:

What's so bad about a little snow?

Answer:

Nothing, if it's a little snow. When it's early, unexpected, and heavy to the point that we have a crisis on our hands, that's not a good thing….

A fierce snowstorm strikes the Rockies in both Canada and the US in October and November with a vengeance, and some people take advantage of it.

Some people are all right; some are hurt; some are dead or dying, and some cannot be found.

Joe, of Canadian Intelligence, gets a call from an old friend that he never expected to receive….

Come prepared for a winter roller-coaster ride, and bring the "comfy chair" (SHUT UP!) and large mugs of coffee and/or coco-moo: it's by far my longest chapter to date:

Canadian Avalanche Blues, eh?

-----

Chapter 8: Canadian Avalanche Blues, Eh?

(Information release authorized from the following sources:

Archives and logs of Dr. A. Jocelyn Possible-Load

Archives and logs of Dr. Wade Load

Archives and logs of Dr. Kimberly Ann Possible-Stoppable.

Archives and logs of Joe XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (surname black-out authorized by CSIS).

Files released by authorization of the following Canadian agencies:

Border Security Agency (CBSA),

National Search and Rescue Secretariat (NSRS),

Criminal Intelligence Service Canada (CISC),

Ministry of Foreign Affairs,

Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS – CIA-equivalent), handling domestic security

Communications Security Establishment (CSE), monitoring foreign concerns, with primary mandate currently identified s anti-terrorism.

-----

(Undisclosed location, undisclosed hospital, somewhere in Canada: event minus 23 months….)

The woman and two men opened the door slowly after knocking and receiving no reply.

Beep.

The man lay in the bed, casts on both of his legs and left arm, his face covered in bandages and tubes from his nose.

"It's a miracle he's alive," she stated.

"It's Joe: only he could have come out of that and captured the two leading drug dealers in three provinces," the man replied, and his co-patriot nodded in agreement.

"Will he make it?" was asked by the second man.

"The doctors believe so; they had to crack his chest after his heart stopped, but they found the bleeders and tied them off.

"But walking? They don't think it's possible, not for a very long time, if ever," the second man answered.

"What can he do, now?"

"If he wants it, I have the perfect position for him," the women announced, and the men winced.

"He's a field agent: he'll never accept a desk job," the first man stated confidently.

Joe chuckled inwardly as he listened to the conversation.

'Anything is 'Possible:' she taught me that.

'And, anything is acceptable, as long as I'm still in the action,' he added.

He lay quiet as the woman opened two cases and placed them on his pillow.

"Thank you, Joe, from all of the parents of the provinces: you took down two very, very bad men, and you broke a massive drug ring, shipping throughout Canada and even Down South," she smiled, thinking about her American friend's response when she got the news from the 'Frozen North.'

She smiled, all saluted, and they turned and left the room.

Beep.

The doctor and nurse came back 10 minutes later. They both stopped as they stared at his pillow.

The two medals cases each held an award:

The Meritorious Service Cross (M. S. C.), Civilian Division; and

The Cross of Valour (C. V).

"What did he do?" the nurse asked, and the doctor shrugged.

"I don't know, but I'm putting him on my gift list for Christmas," he smiled, and they left the room.

Beep.

-----

(Undisclosed location, undisclosed rehabilitation hospital, somewhere in Canada: event minus 20 months….)

The woman and two men opened the door after the voice responded.

"Good afternoon," he started to rise, and she waved him down.

"Joe, after what you've done, we should now rise for you," the woman replied, and she and the two men took seats across from him.

"How are you, my friend?"

He stood, albeit a bit shakily, and jogged around the large workout room. He stopped at one of the weight stations, picked up a 20-kg hand weight in each hand, and pumped iron for them. He then placed the weights back on the stands and cart-wheeled back to a spot approximately a meter in front of their chairs.

"Well?" he asked, and the woman stood and applauded, followed by the two men.

"How did you…the doctors told us that it wasn't possible," she began, but he cut her off with a wave.

"Who did you ask me to train, Commissioner?" He asked, smiling, and then laughing.

"Anything's 'Possible,' remember?" he sat down, wincing for only a moment.

"Well, that answers the first question," she replied with a full smile. "Thanks for reminding me: I need to send her something for her 'good work.'"

"And, I accept the liaison position, Commissioner," he added, and the men's heads shot up from where they were heads-down, whispering to each other.

"How did you…," and she grinned when she realized what had happened. "You were awake, you naughty, naughty man, you," she chastised him as she smiled and winked at him. He returned his well-known thin smile.

"You do realize that this is a new position, you have no authority over anyone, and you have no staff," she continued; he smiled and nodded.

"Just the way I like it," Joe replied, and the new position of multi-agency liaison for the Border Security Agency (CBSA), National Search and Rescue Secretariat, Criminal Intelligence Service Canada (CISC), Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS), and Communications Security Establishment (CSE) was now filled by Joe XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (surname black-out authorized by CSIS).

-----

(Mid-June, following the Montana high school attack: event minus four months….)

(Dr. Wade A. Load)

It was almost ready, but Ron sat on it.

Let's start from scratch, again….

Ron couldn't help it: I left it on the seat of Kim's Sloth by mistake. I was certain that the Tweebs, in their usual fit of techno-envy, would have picked it up b then.

I was wrong.

CRUNCH! Went the single-use PosComm prototype, and Ron grinned as he picked up the pieces and handed them to me

"Oops," he said, and we both laughed.

Back to the workshop, I went….

It was better, this way: I had contemplated a modification (well, a full re-design) the last time I flew the PosComm at Joss' high school, and it gave me an idea for BlazeIT! as well as a signature item for her.

Besides, calling something the SUPC (Single-Use PosComm) just didn't have any 'zing,' but this new unit did; I knew that Slim and Mr. Dr. P would get a laugh out of the name.

That is, of course, as long as the government didn't sue me for name infringement….

-----

"So, what is it, Wade?" Joss asked. I hit the keyboard and launched it on its preprogrammed course.

She was sitting on my desks in my room at home, her legs crossed, and her newest pair of black tall boots on with that pair of tight, black, short, tight, sexy, tight (did I mention that they were tight?) black jean shorts that didn't make it to her knees: mid-thighs, only. I never got to the blouse….

"Wade, you're soooo doomed,' I thought. 'I just hope our daughter doesn't look like this: I'll have to hang the knives over the fireplace if she does; maybe a pair of crossed machetes, as well.'

I thought for a moment…our daughter…I could hardly wait for her to be born.

I'd already picked out the name, if Joss agreed to it:

Stephanie Angelica Load.

I thought it was beautiful, just like I knew she would be.

"I took the idea of the flying PosComm and kicked it down a notch or 10, Joss," and the unit landed on her hand.

"What is that?" she yelled, surprised as it touched down so softly that she barely felt a thing. "It looks like the PosComm, but there's no screen on it."

"It's a M.A.S.H unit, Jocelyn," I replied and managed to keep a straight face. She didn't, and her guffaw was rich and loud. Lucky for me, she didn't have her diet cola in her mouth, or I'd have been wearing it.

"I took the PosComm capabilities for mobility, flight capability, and surveillance, and consolidated them all into a stand-alone handheld unit:

"The Mobile Aerial Surveillance Handheld unit, Mark 1; or, M.A.S.H unit.

"I saw the need, after the high school incident, to have a dedicated unit available for this kind of work as well as the PosComm. IF something happened, Sweet Tea, God forbid, and you didn't have the PosComm, I couldn't find you: this way, you can still fly and communicate with me and the team."

Her response was to hop off the desk, pull me out of my chair, and kiss me, smashing her lips gently and lovingly into mine.

She then took my hands and moved them both, lower, to my favorite viewing site.

I've always loved the way it looks, but I had only been there once or twice before (excluding my dreams, of course). I loved the feel of her in my arms, in my hands: no Kim bubble-butt here, but (no pun intended) a wonderfully-firm and inviting petite terminus, just the right size for my strawberry goddess.

-----

"Are you ready?" I asked her as we separated, the Ronald Dean Stoppable grinning-like-an-idiot look on my face.

"I'm so ready for them to get married; they're even more sickeningly-sweet that we were," Joss replied as she smiled and sat back on the desk, crossing her legs again.

That was proof: the Kimberly Ann Possible smile was genetic, and it was passed down through the father's gene pool.

And, the legs…Oh, the legs!

Genetics rock!

"Have you seen Betty's wedding dress?" Joss grinned. "OMG, it's wonderful! She's gonna be a beautiful June bride."

"So will you, my strawberry goddess; so will you."

I never had a chance to breathe again before she slammed my mouth shut with her lips.

I love strawberries.

"So, Aggie," and I winced, "what else besides a TV-knockoff do you have in your bag of tricks?"

"I have one more that should be ready for prototype testing in a couple of days, Joss. I'm working on another unit that can be integrated into the PosComm, slaved with either the PosComm or the MASH unit, or function separately as its own handheld.

"It's a Full-view InfraRed Enhancer, or F.I.R.E unit; it should be able to find anything giving off infrared energy and display both the item and its location. The current range is set at only 2 miles, but I'm sure that, by the time I'm ready for you, Rebecca Jane, and Arnold to test it, the prototype will have a maximum range of 10 miles and be tunable down to 10 meters, over 30 feet."

"Why infrared, Wade?"

"Heat sensing; I think it'll give us the best chance to find folks at night, hiding, or trapped underground. The radar-enhanced ground-penetrating capability will give you penetration up to 100 meters underground; but, Sweet Tea, that won't be ready for another 2 weeks.

"I'll run it back through the testing cycle before I hand it over to y'all for final field tests."

She smiled.

I love those smiles.

"How were Fletch and Becky's finals? I never had a chance to ask you about them last week: someone had a hankerin' for Nacos and flan, and we never talked about them."

"Passed with flying colors; all except Fletch's math final; he missed a perfect score by 5 points. His teacher was amazed: he told Fletch's parents that he had never seen this drive for excellence in Fletcher before."

"What did they say?"

"'Getting beat up, and having your girlfriend shot, will change your attitude,' and his parents laughed."

"Where are yours going on their honeymoon?"

"Betty had her heart set on Hawaii, but Daddy has his heart set on Greece and a couple of spots on islands off the coast. Kim told her about Midas, and Betty changed her mind. Daddy booked her three sessions with him; it seems he had some sudden vacancies."

"Did you finish the wedding gifts?"

"They're both finished, Joss.

"You know that Betty's gonna think that I'm back in the scanning business, again, and that somehow I've broken her security protocols, Joss. I made her a promise, and I know I don't want her to be mad at me, again."

"Don't worry, my Aggie," she smirked, and I winced again. "I've got the note ready to go in the box with the 'suits, and they won't get them until they get to their island destination, whichever one they finally decide on: I'm having them shipped via GJ to her."

"Is Kim having a quiet summer?"

"It seems that way; we've only had a few hits, and the Tweebs have taken most of the calls. The guys at the customer sites are upset because Kim isn't there, but the ladies are all lovin' the Tweebs.

"I'm getting more emails and messages asking if they're available, and the pictures…; well, let's just say that some of them leave very, very little to the imagination," I grinned. Even Jim and Tim had blushed when I showed them a couple of them, but they wanted the emails, anyway.

"WADE!" she smiled.

"It's a good thing she's having a quiet summer. She and Justine have spent way too much time at the pools and the bridal shops, and Ron and Mike are getting happier and more worried, depending on where the ladies are at the time."

"Wedding question:

"What about Gemini?" I asked.

"He offered to stay away, but Betty's mother would not stand for it.

"So, Gemini and Pepe will be at Betty's wedding, along with about 50 GJ agents.

"Won't Kim be thrilled?" I chuckled. I remembered the look on Kim's face when she found out that Gemini was coming to her uncle's wedding, and that he would now be an out-law in-law, as Jocelyn had so eloquently described him.

"So, my Sweetest of Teas, how many more have you recruited for BlazeIT! to train?"

Joss smiled again.

"Well, Fletch and Becky, but they can't do all of the outdoor training now, so Arnold's training them on the systems and communications. They're naturals at the communications equipment operations; as long as they keep their hands and feet off of each other, they'll be fine. Fletch is getting better by the day, so he'll start the outdoor training in a few weeks.

"Jennifer and Stephen are working with Rebecca to prepare Stephen for his first jump. He's excited, but he's a little nervous. Jen's ready, too; she's jumped several times before, but not in a solo chute from these heights.

"Brick was the surprise, though," and I was confused: Brick Flagg?

"Mr. Brickle is a great trainer (ahhh, that Brick!). His survival skills are beyond platinum, and he's so patient with all of us."

"I heard from a little sparrow that you had a couple of 'wieners' up here, do you not?" and Joss missed, swinging her hand at my head.

"Yea, Momma2 gave me the 'Hot Dogs,' Wade. She said that they would be helpful in the medical arena, but I jus' thank that she wanted to get them out of sight…." she groused.

"But," Joss had a gleam in her eye, "that's not the best news of all." And she was quiet for a couple of minutes, just staring at me.

"WHAT!?" I finally burst.

"Momma2 sent me two presents, and they're solving my adult-to-student ration problem in the search teams for the newer members," and she had an evil grin.

I thought for a moment, then my eyes grew huge.

No, she didn't….please, no….

"Commander Peterson is a total joy to work with, and Will's so past his old behavior that Lindsey says that he's almost human"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Wait: Will almost human?

"Lindsey?" I asked, and Joss nodded.

"Lindsey knows that he's totally smitten with her, and she thought he was cute in a nerdy sort, so she took pity on him when he asked her out.

"It turned out to be the best date she'd been on since her old boyfriend, and Will was a total gentleman, so she kept it going, and he's been after her ever since.

'Will, almost human,' was my thought….?'

'NAAAA!'

"So, Lindsey got talked into helping by Rebecca Jane, and Will came along, and Will's actually not bad as a trainer, Wade."

"DU-DUH?"

"Yes, and you'll have to see it to believe it. Plus, between the two of them they can fly practically any aircraft: Learning that certainly upped Will's opinion of Lindsey."

"Will and Lindsey…."

"Stranger things have happened, my hunka-chocolate," she nibbled my left ear.

Sometimes, life is not fair.

-----

(Late August, event minus 6 weeks….)

My PosComm emergency signals went off like Big Ben:

Joss.

In Trouble.

I was in my chair in microseconds and activating the screen while looking at the clock:

6:59.35 AM MDT.

Joss' face appeared.

She looked horrible,

Something was wrong.

She saw me, and she burst into tears.

I pulled up another monitor and checked for the earliest open flight to her while I sent a message to the GJ HAOC (Hot Agent On Call) at the Bunker to see what was available if I had to get there sooner.

"Jocelyn, what's wrong."

"They …died, Wade," and I was now totally awake.

"Who, Joss?

"Who died?"

"Both of them, Wade; just a minute," and she disappeared from the screen.

I heard her throwing up in her bathroom, heaving whatever she had eaten that night.

When she came back, she was calmer but still stressed.

"Center, Jocelyn," I tried to remember what Ron had taught me.

I took a deep breath, and she took a deep breath.

"You are the only one who can control your reactions, Jocelyn," I reminded her, and she breathed again.

"You are in control, Jocelyn," and she took another deep breath, then she looked up at me and smiled.

"Thank you, Wade: I'm ready now."

-----

"We were out on one last night party run before fall school started: a Friday night/Saturday morning run down to Miles City.

"We had dinner, just us girls, and we celebrated Delta's last night here, maybe a bit too much for her: five large mugs of root beer," and I smiled inside.

"We were heading home about 2:35 AM; I knew I was in some trouble, but I had called Daddy and Momma2 from the restaurant, so they knew we were getting on the road.

"I don't know why I left my PosComm at home, Wade, but I'll never do that again.

"We were heading northwest when we were passed by a speeding Muskrat, doing about 120 MPH. We laughed as they hit the straights ahead, knowing that they'd have to slow down before they got to Angelina: the State Police stayed south of town and paid for six new cars a year with the ticket revenue.

"We heard a crash, and Delta slowed down a bit to see if we could see anything.

"Someone yelled, and Delta slammed on the brakes: a man was running into the road, bloodied in the car headlights.

"Five girls, one cell phone, and it was Delta's:

"She tossed it to me as she left the car to see what she could do, yelling to Paula to get her medkit from the trunk. Paula reached across the front sear, popped the trunk, and headed out.

"Jen headed out, and Becky stayed in; she still was not moving well, and I'm glad she stayed in.

"I heard him yell 'my friends are still there; I think they're dead,' and Jennifer took off down the ripped-up path to the car. Paula took the medkit to Delta, and I dialed 911.

"'Emergency. '

"'Joss Possible, with BlazeIT! Search and Rescue. We have an accident on Highway 59 with possible fatalities and one ambulatory. Can you send a chopper? '

"'Do you have GPS coordinates? ' the technician asked, and I cursed myself again.

"'DELTA! GPS?'

"'MY PURSE,' and I opened her purse and found her GPS unit and gave her the coordinates.

"Jennifer came back, ashen.

"'Joss, I think they're both dead: I couldn't get a pulse,' she said, and then she threw up on the ground, barely missing my feet.

"'Miss Possible, you need to go down there and check.' The person on the line heard Jen.

"'ME? '

"'Yes, ma'am. You're the only professional we have on the scene, and there are lives at stake.'

"'Hold on,' and I ran down the path to the car.

"I couldn't smell gas, but there was mud galore, and water everywhere.

"I opened the front door, and I saw the girl.

"No chance: her neck was broken.

"'Female, front seat, no seat belt: deceased, broken neck. Checking the next passenger,' and I moved to the back door.

"Opening it, I saw a boy, not much older than me if that, laying over in the seat.

"I checked his pulse: none.

"'No wrist pulse, checking the chest,' and I felt his chest.

Thump.

Silence

Thump.

Silence

Thump.

"'I have a chest pulse: weak, but regular,' I reported.

"'Chopper's on the way, Miss Possible. Stay with him.'

"'Who…'

"I looked at his face: his eyes were wide open and looking into mine. I reached over and took his hand; it was getting colder and wetter.

"'Joss Possible, BlazeIT! S&R. You're gonna be fine. What's your name?'

"'Allen…DeLaRosa…Joss…pretty….' And he coughed up blood.

"'He's coughing up blood,' I whispered into the cell.

"'Joss?'

"'Yes, Allen?'

"'Not gonna make it, Joss.'

"'Of course you are, Allen.'

"'No…I'm not. Tell parents…I love them…and Donald…it wasn't…his…fault….' His voice was getting weaker and weaker, and I held his hand even tighter.

"'Joss?'

'Yes, Allen?'

"'Your mother …hello…so does…Stephanie…thank….' and his eyes closed.

"'ALLEN!'

"'Starting CPR!' and I started on Allen.

"'Miss Possible? Don't,' the technician said. 'He's gone.'

"'NO! I CAN'T LOSE HIM!' I yelled, and I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"I turned, and it was Delta.

"'He was breathing, Delta,' I looked up at her, 'and then he was gone,' and she squeezed my shoulder.

"I heard an ambulance squeal to a stop, and voices heading our way.

"'Miss, are you all right?' a paramedic asked me.

"'I'm fine.'

"'You have blood on your hands, Miss,' as he lit up my hands with that killer flashlight.

"My hands were red.

"Allen's blood was the wet I felt when I held his hand.

"'It's not mine, it's his,' I replied, and he wiped it off to see if there were any wounds: none.

"'You young ladies need to head home; you've likely got worried parents,' and I chuckled.

"'Trust me: if mine were worried, you wouldn't be standing here, alone,' I replied.

"'Joss Possible, BlazeIT! S&R. My mother's Elizabeth Director-Possible, head of Global Justice,' and I heard a set of squeaks from the other paramedics.

"'What time is it?' I asked the paramedic?

"'It's 5:53, Miss Possible.

"'Tell the M.E approximate time of death was 5: 45 AM for Allen DeLaRosa. The young lady likely died on impact,' I added, and Delta helped me up to the car.

"It was a quiet ride home, and I got in the house and came in here, Wade, and I called you, and you were here for me, once again, my hero," she smiled.

"Joss, you realized what you did, don't you?" and she looked at me totally perplexed.

"You gave Allen DeLaRosa his final moments with someone to talk to.

"He sent two angels tonight, Sweet Tea:

"One, to escort Allen Home, and the second, to be with him, so he wouldn't be alone when the first angel came.

"You were the second angel, Jocelyn Possible, and I am so very proud of you," and I smiled and blew her a kiss.

"I'm coming up, Joss," but she waved me off.

"Momma2 just woke up: I can hear her, so I'll be fine, Wade.

"Thank you for listening, Wade," and she blew me a kiss.

"What are future husbands for, but to help their future wives?" I asked, and grinned.

"Remember, Jocelyn, I will always be here for you, no matter when or where, until you tell me to leave."

"And, Ah ain't a'gonna tell you that, so Ah guess I'm stuck with you, Wade Load, my only.

"Good night, Wade. I love you."

"And I love you, my strawberry angel," and I kissed at her as the monitor blackened, and then I fell apart.

I sat there for over 15 minutes, crying into my hands for my Jocelyn, but I knew one thing was certain:

Her decision about her future college path was decided tonight by Allen DeLaRosa: she was going to follow Mrs.Dr.P into medicine, and whatever else she could get away with at the same time.

I felt sorry for the poor med school that she attended, and even sorrier for the professors that had no advance warning that a Possible woman was on the way.

-----

(mid-October, following the Montana high school attack: event minus 1 week….)

(Joe)

I was walking into my office when the phone rang.

Actually, three phones rang at the same time.

I took the nearest one: Border Security was curious about an inquiry I had made regarding a series of vehicles entering the United States, specifically vehicles entering Eastern Washington State from south-east BC and central Montana from south-central Alberta. I answered the question and requested the information by noon.

The second phone has not stopped ringing, so I answered it: my contact at CSIS asking if I had heard anything about a "weather bug;" the answer was no, but I'd check.

The third line had stopped; I checked the caller-ID and saw it was NSRS; I'd call them back after I had had coffee.

I started the pot and sat down to re-read the information I'd received from my new liaison in Global Justice: a Lindsey Peterson.

Smart girl: she had left the office of a Navy Admiral for this post, and was working with Dr. Possible (I'd have to get used to Betty's new last name; the last time I saw her, she had thanked me for the wedding gift, and I thought I'd never come up for air. Her husband, also a Dr. Possible (Slim, by nickname: Americans with their nicknames….), was laughing at me (but, of course, he was a Possible, so what did I expect?) Commander Peterson was working as the liaison with Dr. Possible's daughter and Dr. Load in an S&R startup for the States. What most didn't know was that Dr. Load was also providing information to the authorities on drug traffic patterns, volumes, and movement: how he did it, I don't know, but he had backed up the traffic into Montana by 47; the remainder was being re-routed through other routes, and it was making it easier to spot them, now.

Lindsey had filled me in on how and why Dr. Load was now spending an inordinate amount of time and money in Montana. I felt sorry for the kid, but I loved what he was doing.

Last night, I had read the background story about Sheri Nicole and Andrea Jocelyn Possible, Slim's first wife and his daughter. I'd almost lost my dinner over that story, and that was difficult for me.

Now, Dr. Load's activities made sense: between what had happened to him and what had happened to Andrea Jocelyn, their teaming up was a logical conclusion. But: why him, and why now?

I was missing a piece of the puzzle, and I knew who would know.

The phone rang.

It was NSRS: they were trying to reach me because a Kimberly Ann Possible was trying to reach me, and did I know her?

I laughed and told them yes, and to call her and tell her that I was dropping in today if it wasn't a bother.

I then booked a flight to Middleton to see Kimberly; hopefully, she would not be in the throes of University registration. This was worth a visit; besides, seeing Ronald would be an experience, as well. I understood that his newest passion was Kimberly Ann, and that the young man had finally caught on and proposed. He was smarter than most thought: I had seen that in action.

-----

There was a Roth SL Coupe parked in the driveway: it had to be hers, I chuckled inside, because neither of her parents needed that car.

She opened the door before I ran the doorbell.

"JOE!" she yelled, and she hugged me.

This could be a problem: she was well on her way to becoming a dangerously attractive woman, much like her mother.

"Miss Possible, good day."

"You got my call: good," and she opened the door and ushered me in. I sat down on the couch, wincing a bit. She noticed.

"I couldn't find out where you were, Joe, after you got hurt. I was worried about you, my friend, so I saved it all up for you," and she had opened a closet door in the hallway and retrieved a large box, handing it to me.

"How did you know-?" I stopped as she smiled.

"Wade," I continued, and she nodded.

"I actually came down for a different reason altogether, Kimberly Ann: Wade. He's the reason that I needed to see you.

"I have one question: to use your phrase, 'What's the sitch' between Wade Load and Andrea Jocelyn Possible?"

Kim laughed, long and hard.

I sat there like an idiot, waiting for her to finish.

"Joe, for Intelligence, you missed the train on this one.

"It's love, Joe," and I mentally slapped myself, but stopped.

"But, they're only 14 and 15. How-?" and she held up her hand.

"You know about them, Joss' mom and Wade's friend?" I nodded.

"They were there when each other learned about the other's pain, and what happened to each of them.

"They've been through more than Ron and I have been through, and likely will go through, in our first 30 years of marriage together.

"Congratulations, by the way, Miss Possible, on your upcoming nuptials," I stated, and she grinned.

"So, that's where the huge basket came from last Christmas that had no name but was from Ottowa," she deduced, and I smiled.

"How did you hear so soon?"

"Your Nana bought the drinks, remember? A friend of mine was on the flight, and he called me from the airport. I called in a few favors to get it to you Christmas afternoon; I hope you enjoyed it."

"I loved it; I never got any of the cheese, though," she grinned, and we both said:

"Rufus."

"Wade's name popped up on a couple of dispatches that hit my desk, but so far, he's under the radar of the big dogs. Only a couple of minor cells have him tagged, but they're in the process of falling apart.

"I did call you for a reason, Joe, so let me get Wade on the line, as well," and she and she reached down and tapped her wrist. A small holographic projection popped up, and Wade's head was there.

"What's the sitch, Kim-

"JOE! What are you doing in Middleton, old friend?"

"Asking about you, but obviously I missed the boat, Dr. Load: I hadn't heard that you were engaged. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Joe, but it's not totally official yet, not until Joss graduates from colle-

"Wait, you know about Joss and me?"

"Just like you knew I was hurt, Wade," I grinned, and two masters of the craft smiled at each other.

"Wade, I called Joe about the weatherbug."

Clicks, and

"re-confirmed this morning's scans, Kim, Joe: nothing," Wade replied.

"I received a call this morning about the same topic, Kim," and Wade's face furrowed.

"I've tagged the searchbot, Joe, and it'll send you a note whenever it pops up."

"How are you- never mind," I smiled, and Wade crossed his arms.

"Wade?" a young lady's voice, and a comely redhead popped into the screen behind Wade.

"Miss Possible, good day," and she looked surprised.

"Joss, this is Joe," Wade introduced me, and Joss smiled.

"OH, THAT Joe. How'ya doin,' Joe, and what are ya' doin' in Middleton?

"Talking to you, Wade, and Kim, Joss," and Kim laughed at Joss' perplexed look.

"Joe has a rather dry sense of humor, Joss," Kim explained.

"While I've got all three brains here, Ah have a question.

"What's a weatherbug?" and Kim and Wade's heads both looked at Joss.

"Where did you get that, Joss?"

"Lindsey and Rebecca Jane got it off of some surveillance recordings; something about a weatherbug and an event scheduled for October 22nd, but no details," she explained.

"Anything on October 22nd?" and Wade's fingers flew.

"Nothing major on the 22nd; no dignitaries coming into the state of Montana, and no special events," he finished.

"Kim, where did you get the word weatherbug?"

"One of Drakken's cellmates heard something from him, rambling about a weatherbug, but he didn't get any information beyond the name. He turned it in, hoping he could get some extra privileges.

"Other than that: as Ron would say, I got nuttin."

"Somebody call the Ronster?" and Ronald Dean Stoppable came in the front door, saw his fiancée and bee-lined his way to her to administer a full-blown kiss.

"JOE!" he finally noticed me, and he shook my hand heartily.

I felt a buzz for a millisecond, but it went away...or was I imagining things?

"Staying long, Joe, or are you afraid of the Ron-man as agent competition?" he grinned.

"Just leaving, Ronald" and I stood.

"Love the cane, Joe," he pointed at my walking stick.

"Thanks, Ron, Kim, Wade, Jocelyn," I headed for the door.

"HEY!" and I turned around to see an angry chittering naked mole rat.

"Sorry, Rufus, I thought you were upstairs," and I walked back to Ron and extended my hand.

Rufus shook my finger, and waved good-bye as he jumped down and headed into the kitchen.

"If I find anything, I'll let you know, Kimberly," and I turned as someone pulled my shoulder.

Kim gave me a big hug, and I was made painfully aware of our age difference.

"Bye, Joe: don't forget to write," she smirked as I headed to the tube entrance.

I never gave her any information on weatherbug, and neither she nor Wade had noticed: good.

I hated the tubes, but they beat the heck out of airport taxi fares.

"Bye, all," I called and waved, and I triggered the tube and dropped.

I passed my stomach on the way to the airport.

-----

(October 22: event day 0)

(Abandoned warehouse in Mills City, Montana)

"Well?" The burly man in the ill-fitting pure silk suit was impatient.

"Patience, my dear Mr. Insight; it will begin in 3...2...1...NOW!" the short, skinny man clicked the mouse, and the program began to run.

"When will we see the effects?"

"Look outside," and Mr. Insight opened the door to a beautiful but unexpected sight:

Snowflakes were dancing as they fell from the full clouds, in October.

"The forecast was for a light rain," he whispered, and the short man laughed.

"Freeze it at the right heights, and what do you get?

"Snow.

"Freeze a lot of it, and what do you get?

"Lots of snow.

"Keep it frozen for weeks, and what do you get?

"Conditions you're never seen before," and the short man laughed maniacally.

"So, now, people everywhere shall feel my wrath, because you cannot stop:

"WEATHERBUGGG!" The laughter became more maniacal.

'And I can finally move my merchandise across the border without being bothered, because no one would be crazy enough to be out in this weather,' Mr. Insight thought to himself and smiled inside.

The snowfall began to come down harder by the minute, and in 20 minutes the snowfall was heavy enough to begin to start buildups on car hoods and windows.

-----

Joss walked out of her last classes with Paula and found the day had changed from 'chance of rain' to a surprising October snow.

Paula's car hood was covered with what looked like six inches of snow, and her windshield and back of window were piled high.

"Dang, I'm glad I had at least enough brains to wear some jacket this morning," Paula smiled as she pointed at the 'in crowd,' now shivering in their sleeveless dresses and bare arms.

"Oh, well, this won't last long," Joss said as they finally got to the car and brushed the layer off of the windows.

"At least it's not frozen like it would be in January: that'd be a mess," Paula commented as she popped the locks, and the girls entered the car.

"At least the heater works," Joss added as the Paula started the engine, reaching over and starting the heater, as well.

"Looks like the forecasters missed this one," Paula backed out of the parking lot and headed to the Lazy C Ranch. First, however, were priorities: a stop at the MoonNickel drive-thru for hot chocolate for Joss and a Double Expresso Latte for Paula.

-----

National Weather Service, Glasgow, Montana (October 22: event day 0 + 15 hours)

"What's happening, people?" Nicole (Nicki) Henry, the chief meteorologist yelled across the room, and every meteorologist attempted, unsuccessfully, to bury themselves under their desks.

Nicole caught her first victim.

"Vangie! Talk to me!"

"Well, Boss," Evangeline (Vangie) Powers looked up from the reading she'd just received and reviewed, "it appears that the upper atmosphere temperature has dropped."

"VANGIE!"

"Sorry, Boss," and she unsuccessfully stifled a laugh.

Nicole growled, and Vangie continued. "It's dropped to -15 degrees C (5 degrees F), and it looks like it'll level off and hold at about -25 C (-13 F).

"Add this to the jet stream flow pattern flow change that we saw three weeks ago, bringing Pacific moisture across the mountains in mass quantities, and we have the makings of a good early snow."

"HOW GOOD?" Nicole hated being wrong, especially about something like this.

"12-18 inches, if it breaks. It'll make the ski resorts happy, and the retail stores will sell more coats early, so it's a win for everyone."

"And, if it doesn't break?" Nicole had caught Vangie's caveat, and Vangie punched up the forecast and routed it to her boss' monitor.

"Shazzbat," Nicole mumbled to herself. 'If it doesn't break in the next 24 hours, it won't break for three weeks or more.

Nicki hit the phone and built a conference call with her, Billings, Denver/Boulder, Glasgow, Great Falls, and Missoula. She wanted answers, and she needed them last week.

In a few minutes, she had all parties.

"We're seeing upper atmosphere temps dropping like Diablos," Nicki joked.

"What are you seeing?"

"Denver: same: we're down to -1 F.

"Glasgow: same: we're at -16 C.

"Great Falls: -13 C.

"Mizzoula: -14 C.

"Snow?" Nicki asked, and they all had had at least three inches accumulated; her nine inches was the largest accumulation.

"If this is what we're getting in the cities, what's gonna happen in the Rockies, at the resorts?" she asked.

Silence.

-----

Kim walked out of her college class and was, for the millionth time, glad that Club Banana had discontinued her signature crop top. She liked the new shirts.

'And Ron certainly likes how I look in the purple ones; he can't get enough of them,' she giggled as she leaned into the wind.

The brisk wind was chilling, and she shivered as she walked to her car, popping the locks using the newest Tweeb toy: a security system that also activated the silent call to the police and Wade if anyone attempted to break into the car or move it. The car would lock down after moving 10 feet in any direction, and the dye that would hit the people inside: well let's just say it wouldn't be pretty, but it would be easy to clean from the carn (just not the people).

She opened the door and got in, closing the door and putting her books on the passenger seat. As she started the Sloth, the cold air blast from the vent got her attention, and as she looked at the vent she looked down and smiled, noticing something.

'Definitely glad Ron's not here,' she grinned to herself as she realized just how cold it was, and she disconnected the auto-Kimmunicator activation so Wade couldn't 'pop in' unannounced.

'Don't need Wade popping in, either: the girls don't like this cold wind,' she grinned as she pulled out into the road, not paying attention to the tiny flakes that had begun to fall but not yet stick to the windshield.

-----

National Weather Service, Glasgow, Montana (October 31: event day 9)

"The only reason we're not hip-deep in snow was that freakishly-sudden change in the jet stream for two days that cut off the Pacific flow," Vangie was on the conference call with Nicki and the other affected NWS offices.

"That's the good news.

"The bad news: the jet stream has popped back into position, and the dry air looks to be a future memory for the next 30 days.

"We're in for the heaviest, longest-consecutive day snowfall in 90 years, at least for the Glasgow records.

"We're passing warnings to the public schools, universities, cities, and the media," Nicki announced, and she heard a groan across the conference bridge. :"I know, but we've got someone else to think about besides our own sorry asses.

"Give me another idea, and I'll run with it."

Silence, then a beeping from Vangie's connection.

She placed her connection on hold and picked up the incoming call:

"Vangie, darling, are you warm enough yet, or do I need to come south and warm your heart?" a male voice came across her speakerphone, and her office mates all laughed.

"Robert Allen, I've told you before, I'm married," Vangie replied as she clicked her headset on and speakerphone off, and Robert snorted.

"A minor detail, Vangie, especially where you are concerned. I'll find you a good barrister and a, how do you say, hit person, one of those people who kills for a living.

"Love, what do you know about this dreadful weather?"

"Only that it's cold enough to freeze the parts off of a buffalo, either male or female," she replied, "and it appears not to want to stop, either."

"OUCH! Not what I wanted to hear, Vangie. That matched what we're getting from the MSC AEPD supercomputer in Dorval."

"I know MSC: Meteorological Service of Canada (MSC), but what's AEPD?" "The Atmospheric Environment Prediction Directorate, luv," he sounded exasperated. "Do your boys in Denver or D.C. know what's getting the moisture to cross the Rockies in these volumes?" "No clue, Robert. Call me if you hear anything, all right?"

"For you, Vangie, I will move the Rockies themselves," and he disconnected.

-----

Joe (October 31: event day 9)

I got a call from Robert Allen with the MSC. The Yanks had no ideas about this weather; they were clueless, as were we.

I looked at the latest information from Intel on drug traffic: the supply was increasing, and the products were moving south across the border, even in this weather.

I looked over at my cane, standing in the corner, all alone. I hadn't used it since a week after I returned from Middleton, and I had a suspicion but no evidence.

The emergency beeps came across from NSRS: an avalanche advisory was being issues for the Rockies, here and in the States.

I needed to make some calls.

The first: to Mel at the bunker.

It rang once, and Mel picked up.

"Hello, Joe," how?

"Wade's caller-id beats your screening capabilities," she smirked over the phone, and I chuckled.

"Mel, luv, are you seeing the drug supply increasing on the south side of the Border?"

"Yes, Joe, I'm seeing it, but it makes no sense. How are they getting it across?"

"I think it's tied into the weather somehow, Mel."

"We need to talk to Wade, then," and she linked us in.

"I'd go video if I were you: this might get deep, real quick." I patched the monitors in, and Mel's face popped into view on screen one, mine was on screen two, and, in a second, Wade's loveable mug was on screen three.

"Mel! Hello!" then he saw me.

"Joe! Too busy to even write?" Wade joked, and I smiled.

"Wade. Keeping that lady of yours in good tech?" and he laughed.

"And flowers, Joe: especially flowers. She deserves them, especially in this weather," and I noticed that Wade had an North American atmospheric map up on the monitor behind him.

"Let me guess, Joe: snow, and more snow," and I grinned as Wade crossed his arms with a self-serving smile on his face.

"'Once again, Dr. Load, you are correct,'" I quoted from one of his old professors, and he guffawed.

"So, you've had your head 'Hand'-ed to you, too, Joe?"

"Not personally; a very dear friend did, several times, but he made it though.

"Talk to me, Wade, about drug flow since the storm started," and he bent his head down as keys clicked in amazing fashion.

"We've had a buildup in the last 7 days, Joe," and Mel nodded. "Only one capture by DEA on the border, but the quantity was massive. They're estimated that, for every capture, 95 per cent more is getting through in this weather."

"What would you say if I told you that this looks like it was planned, Wade?" I asked, more clicks, then Wade's head popped back up.

"Makes sense, but how do you guess the weather?"

"You don't; I haven't figured that part out yet, but I will," I replied.

"Have you heard of a scientist named Johann Santana-Wetterlauss?" Wade asked.

"He was on staff at MSC; fired three years ago for stealing computer resources, both services and physical hardware," I answered, then inquired: "Why?"

"His name came up when I ran the translator across papers from several meteorological experts in the arena of jet stream research; I just got the return set a few minutes ago, and it bothered me, so I was going to call you, Mel."

When Dr. Load was bothered, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Why did his name come up, Wade?" Mel asked.

"The translator caught it:

"Wetterlauss roughly translates to 'weather bug,'" and light bulbs went on for all of us.

My turn.

"Records show that he got a visa to go South 18 months ago and dropped off our radar when he left," I replied after running a quick scan.

Wade chimed in. "We don't have any records of him after he left Arkansas; he went there to Little Rock, then to Dallas, then to Biloxi, and then back to Arkansas: Jacksboro, specifically, and after that we have no records of him.

"Could he have something to do with this weather?" Mel asked, and Wade shrugged.

"I don't know," now I was Officially Worried, "but I haven't gone through his papers, yet. I'll let you know when I finish; his stuff is scattered over several sites and in several different languages."

"Good hunting, Wade," I hoped he found something, and I disconnected.

-----

November 21: event day 30

(Dr. Wade Load, Middleton, Colorado)

My meditation was interrupted by the notification system.

I'd added several items up for notification, so I had to open the screen to see what the sitch was:

Avalanches predicted all along the range, from Colorado deep into Canada all the way deep into the Canadian Rockies.

I called the Bunker, and Rebecca Jane wasn't there.

"Lindsey?" I hadn't expected to see her.

"Hello, Wade: long time, no harass," she smiled.

"Still playing chess?" Lindsey asked, and I grinned.

"Yes, and your former boss still hasn't won a game."

"What a surprise," she smirked.

"Calling about the avalanche warning?"

"Yes; have we had any requests for assistance yet?"

"A resort north of Middleton, Colorado, and a spot in the Canadian Rockies: Lake Louisa May, about 2 hours west of Calgary, Alberta: they both have experienced minor tremors, and they have guests out on the mountains in several places."

"In this weather?"

"Having fun, Wade: you should try it," she smiled.

"What are the plans, Lindsey?"

"You, Will, Rebecca Jane, and GJ forces will cover Middleton: you're already there, and you've got the gear and the training. Betty may join you, depending on other events occurring. Charlie will man the Bunker along with Becky, and he will be the primary coordination point should the emergency hit; and I expect it to come shortly.

"Jocelyn, Arnold, Fletch, GJ forces, and I will be leaving the Bunker for Lake Louisa May in the next 90 minutes; we'll be on the ground three hours after takeoff."

Joss hadn't called me; she didn't want me to worry, I know, but I was worried anyway.

"Wade, don't worry: you've given us every tech advantage in this environment, and the new winter suits are great. The heating units work perfectly; we've field tested them over the last few weeks with no failures, so I'm comfortable.

"Good hunting, Lindsey," I smiled, and she saluted me.

"You too, Boss," and she clicked off.

Joss' signal came in, and I opened a window:

Joss was standing, wearing her new battle suit, carrying her travel bag. Her PosComm, MASH and FIRE units were clipped to her belt.

"Hello, Wade," she smiled, and I could see she was worried.

"You'll do fine, Joss: I have faith in you, just like I always have and always will," I grinned.

"I know, Wade, but I just wish you were going with me."

"It's our big chance, Joss: we can show them what BlazeIT! can do."

"I know, Wade, but would it be wrong of me to want to be sitting by the fire with you rather than going out in this mess?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Sweet Tea," and my heart, my love for her, could melt all the snow in Colorado.

"What about Ron and Kim?"

"Kim called: she got a call, and she and Ron took off and left no word about where they were going or what they were doing.

"Kim and Ron's tracking units?"

"Ron deactivated them both: MMP is a pain to me," I chuckled, and she smiled.

"There's my flight," she joked, and she hugged her bag.

"Until I see you again, Wade: I love you," she smiled again, even bigger.

"I will always love you, Jocelyn," and she cut the signal.

Where did Ron and Kim go?

I took a cold shower (after seeing her in that suit…), checked more notifications, and waited after I changed clothes (no time for my own personal pity party for one). I was picking up my travel bag about 2 hours later when Mom paged: someone's at the door for you.

I headed out of my room. Mom and Dad were at the front door, and Will Du standing there with a totally altogether-unexpected smile on his face.

"Wade?" Mom hugged me. "Be careful, son."

"I will, Mom," and Dad hugged me, also.

"Let's go, Will," we ran to the new plane in the GJ fleet: a multi-passenger jump jet with V/STOL capabilities.

Will headed for the cockpit when we got in the jet, and I grabbed the last empty seat in the back of the jet with the remainder of the agents and Rebecca Jane.

"Are we ready, Dr. Load?" Will's voice came over my comlink.

"Hit it," and he did.

-----

(Middleton, Colorado, November 21: event day 30)

(Dr. Kimberly Ann Possible-Stoppable.

Ron and I had left right after Joe called us that morning: he'd confirmed that they were dealing with one of our own types: WeatherBuggg was a supervillian by designation, and Joe had been contacted when the designation was made at the same time his location had been confirmed.

Joe had provided the ride: a sturdy weather-hardy mini-jet, designed for no more than 12 passengers, crew, and cargo.

We both had our battlesuits on under the regular mission clothes: this seemed to be the best camouflage, we'd learned from past encounters.

I had my gloves on, and I wore my engagement ring underneath on this trip rather than in the concealed pouch that Wade had designed into the suit. I slipped that hand's glove off when we were airborne and took Ron's hand in mine as we headed to a spot outside of Mills City, Montana. Joe already had US DEA, US Border Patrol, and visiting agents from CBSA and CISC. All groups had decided that this was certainly a joint venture, and no one had joked about the upcoming raid, including their counterparts from the other side of the border.

Along the way, we were briefed on the people that WeatherBuggg had partnered with: a rather motley and nasty group of individuals, and all had agreed that we would go after the 'Buggg while the agents would tackle the smugglers.

I slipped my fingers between Ron's as we flew; he looked at me and smiled.

I will never grow tired of that smile: goofy, caring, and loving all in one neat tidy package.

'How did I get this lucky?' was my mantra lately, especially after I talked with new friends at college who had gone through boyfriends like Drakken had gone through take-over-the-world plots.

I slipped my glove back on before we landed. We dropped to the ground silently in the middle of a mini-blizzard; the snow was blowing, but not near as bad as only a few minutes before. We all ran to the assigned vehicles, numbered on the outside with removable magnetic signs, and the last person entering the vehicle pulled the sign in with them.

"What do you have planned, KP?" Ron whispered to me as we rode.

I licked his ear.

"Besides that, KP?" he blushed.

"You take out the machinery, I'll smash the Buggg?" I suggested, and Ron nodded.

"Maestro Distracto, at your service, madam," he bowed in the car, and two of the female agents giggled.

Even the other guys smiled, but only for an instant.

"Are you ready, Kim, Ron?" Joe's voice came clearly over our comlink.

"Ready and tired of snow, Joe," Ron answered, and several heads nodded.

"Good: it's an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Mills City. The local force and DCI have the place under surveillance."

"Mel?" I asked.

"Of course, Kim: who did you expect: Professor Demented?" Mel's voice came over the comlink, and the laughter was unanimous in our car.

"We got this car especially for you, Kim," Mel added as the roof over Ron and I slid open as we pulled to a stop. I spotted several good landing spots and one perfect one.

I pointed at the one I liked, and Ron nodded his approval. We hit the controls, and the one-way tinted bulletproof glass covered our faces. We looked like faceless mannequins as we sat, motionless and waited for 95 seconds in the falling snow (Ron: Well you certainly have the figure for modeling, KP; Me: I got nuttin'. Me: You do, too, have the figure for it, Ron, especially the lower body, I grinned. Ron: well, Booyah.).

"Go," Joe called, and we fired our lines and rose up through the rear roof of the car, the roof closing as we left the vehicle.

"Gotta get me one of those, KP! Elvis has left the vehicle!" Ron shouted through the howling wind as we landed on the roof.

"Let's dry after we get inside," I shouted as Ron burned the lock off the roof door, and we stepped in, quietly.

I hit my controls, as did Ron, and the suit dried our outer clothes.

'Wade, my friend, you rock soooo far ahead of the curve,' and I mentally blew him a kiss.

'Cousin Joss, you are soooo lucky,' I thought as we stepped quietly to the end of the hall and listened.

"KR, go on 3. I send the teams right after you," we clicked our message receipt.

"Ready, Ron?" I looked back as he glowed blue for a second.

"Ready, my beloved," he smiled and leaned over, kissing my cheek.

I felt myself blush, and then I remembered in time to remove my glove and put my ring in the pouch, replacing the glove before Mel started the count:

"1……

"2……

"3! GO GO GO GO GO!" and Ron and I slammed through the doors and faced the smugglers, stuffing bags of money and crating more spray cheezi and marijuana.

"There!" Ron shouted and pointed to the diminutive man with the –

I couldn't help myself:

I burst out laughing.

You would, too, if the supervillian wore four green, fake insect antennae.

"Weatherbuggg!" Ron called, and the 'Buggg turned, looked at me and smiled as we dropped the cowls and showed our faces.

"KIM POSSIBLE!

"Who's the blond bimbo with you?" and Ron flashed blue in his eyes.

"Step away from the controls, Bugbreath," and two of the smugglers laughed as they lifted their Uzis, but they quit laughing when the other side of the building blew open and Montana DCI and DEA agents led the mutli-government assault, guns blazing over their heads, knocking out the lights.

"I think not, Kim Possible: I've already got the next assault building, and California will see a White Christmas that Crosby never imagined," and he hit a button that sparked the control unit.

"Now, you can have it: I've burned the controls in so nothing can change the settings or terminate them," and he shot a liquid at both of us from his wrist.

"Acid!" Ron shouted as his outerwear began to burn off; unfortunately for Ron, the acid hit the belt buckle first, and his pants fell to the ground.

"Oh, man, not again," and he looked down as his pants disappeared in a puddle.

"What –" Weatherbuggg looked at us, standing there in the now-revealed battlesuits.

Two jumps later, and I had his hands behind his back.

"OWWW!" he yelled as I pulled his arms behind him, hard. I shot the fast-hardening plastic foam-cuff mixture from the suit, and his hands were locked behind him. I shot his feet for good measure, and he wasn't going anywhere.

"KP!" Ron shouted, and I looked up at him.

He was looking at the flat-panel display above the console: the upper atmosphere and ground temperatures were dropping past -30 F, and fast.

"Go, Ron," I yelled, and he placed his hands on the console.

The console flashed a brilliant blue for an instant; then it shone a steady bright blue for over a minute.

I watched the temperature readings as they slowed their descent, halted at -45 F for a moment, then turned and journeyed upwards and leveled off at +25 F.

"We can't let all the snow melt at once, can we?" Ron smiled, and he grabbed the console again.

By this time, GJ, CBSA, DEA and Border Patrol agents had taken the smugglers with 'minimal' gunfire: minimal, in this case, meant only 6 casualties, all wounded, no dead. Mel had the lead smuggler in cuffs, and Joe was smiling as he walked over to us. Joe bounced off of thin air, hard.

"Forgot to tell you, Joe: Ron put up the 'suit shield so the bullets wouldn't 'bother' us while we dealt with WeatherBuggg," I grinned as I shut the shield down, and Joe came over and stared at my glowing-blue BFBF.

"MMP?" he asked, and I nodded.

Ron let out a howler monkey scream as he held the console, and the sound lasted for almost a minute. The smugglers all tried, unsuccessfully, to cover their ears; the handcuffs prevented that, unfortunately.

When Ron finally stopped his howl, the silence was deafening.

But, the silence also meant that the wind had slowed or stopped outside.

Ron fell to his knees, and I ran over to him. Joe was right behind me.

"Are you all right, Ron?" and he looked up, his eyes still burning blue.

He stood and walked over to Weatherbuggg, now scared enough to be creating a clothing color, odor and dampness change at what he'd witnessed Ron do to his machine.

"You've messed with Mother Nature, Weatherbuggg, and Mama's not happy," Ron smiled as his eyes continued to glow bright blue.

"And, you know what they say:

"If Mama Ain't Happy, Ain't No Bugggsies happy," and Ron reached up and ripped the fake antennae from his head.

He screamed.

Obviously, some evil geniuses aren't as bright as others, and this one obviously rode the 'short bus': Weatherbuggg had glued the antennae onto his head with Superglue, and Ron's yank took off a healthy clump of hair and a bit of scalp.

He handed the antennae to the owner, sticking them into the hardened foam around his feet.

"Now, you've been planted: let's see of some common sense grows."

"Don't make Mother Nature angry, again, Johann: she's one bad mother-"

"RON!" came from both Joe and me.

"I was just going to say 'mother nature lover,'" he grinned, and the blue glow disappeared.

"Are you all right, KP?"

"Right as rain, Ron."

"You mean, smooth as snow," Joe added, and Ron stared at him.

"I don't get it," he said, and he winked at Joe.

"KIM!" Mel yelled over the comlink.

"Patch into the Bunker frequency: They've had avalanches at both of the locations where BlazeIT! went, and they're bad ones."

-----

(Lake Louisa May Ski Resort, Alberta, Canada, November 21: event day 30)

(Jocelyn Possible)

We landed in a parking lot of one of the two lodges furthest away from the main area, Emerald Isle Lode, that they had cleared cars out of so that we could come down on site rather than landing in Calgary and hopping across the 2 hours by vehicle (on a good day, weather-wise, which this certainly was not). I'm glad I took Momma2's advice and took a pill long before I left: at least my lunch stayed down, and that was more than I could say for a couple of the new GJ agents. Lucky for him, Fletch had taken the same advice and pill, and he made it relatively unscathed.

The ramp dropped at the back of the plane, and we departed on skis and in one of three winter-modified ATVs that Rebecca Jane had 'acquired:' Arnold was driving, and he handled it well.

The jet took off, and we were about 50 yards from the main lodge when all of the PosComms, set to notification, beeped a warning: incoming tremors.

"Quake!" Arnold yelled over the comlink, and everybody went to ground.

I'd never been in an earthquake: I was scared out of my mind as I lay there face down, feeling the ground rumble all around and roll beneath me, trying so very hard not to cry and run home to Daddy and Wade. I heard screams around me and crashing sounds, groaning and cracking and snapping of large wooden beams.

When it finally stopped (it felt like days, but it was actually only 25 seconds, according to the readings I saw much later), we stood and stared as we dusted ourselves off, checking for any breaks or sprains:

Fully one-third of the lodge had collapsed, and the other two-thirds were leaning precariously.

Arnold was a commander at heart and mind, and he was ready for the test:

"James: you and Fletch and Lindsey, take your team to Western Louisa May Lodge and start evac on the folks still inside," and James and Fletch led the way in the ATV, followed by Lindsey and the rest of the team, on skis, to the back of the lodge.

"Joss, two, with me: we're goin' treasure huntin' in the rubble; the rest of you, to the back side of the lodge and start evac on those folks," and I jumped into the ATV with Arnold, and the four of us were off.

While we ride, my PosComm went off again:

Avalanches likely, all along the mountain.

Arnold slammed on the brakes at what had been the front door, turned to me, and smiled.

"Joss, here's where Wade's gear gets its real test: what can you see?

I pulled out the FIRE unit, and scanned the front of the building.

"We have three people about 4 meters behind there," and I pointed to a spot about a meter to the left of the headlights. The two agents headed for the spot, checking for stability, and burrowed into the brick and plaster walls.

"That's the lowest hanging fruit, Arnold," and I did a full scan of the collapsed structure.

"I've got 23 people identified in this part of the building, Arnold," and I gulped. "15 appear to already be dead: their bodies are cooling, and there's no heartbeats coming through on the unit. Eight are definitely alive, but three are badly hurt.

"Them first," Arnold replied. "Where?"

"Under the deep pile over there, Arnold," and I pointed to the largest pile of rubble: the three-story section of the building.

"GOT THEM!" the female agent yelled, and she and her partner came out with all three in two: she was carrying the child, and he was leading the two adults out, walking. They looked relatively unscathed: cuts and bruises.

"Can I help?" and I turned to see a tall young man in NSRS gear, carrying a medical bag. He looked at me and started to say something, but he noticed the BlazeIT! emblem on my suit and JP underneath it.

"Excuse me, Miss Possible; I'd welcome you to Alberta, but it appears your welcome was a bit rough," he went to work on the child as he spoke, checking for breaks and finding none, then checking the parents (they turned out to be a family on holiday).

"Thank you, Doctor." I headed to the spot that Arnold and the other male agent were already at, looking for the best entry paint.

"It's Ben, Miss Possible," and he went back to his charges, calming the child when he saw blood on his mother's leg.

"I'm J.T., by the way," the female agent said as she skied alongside me on foot.

"Joss," I replied, and she laughed.

"Yes, Miss Possible, I know who you are," she responded.

"Joss; not Miss Possible: Joss, especially here."

"Yes, Ma'am," she grinned as she pulled up behind the men and stuck her hand out. I shook it, and we stared at the testosterone festival.

"Well?" I asked after a moment, and I turned on my deep Western drawl. "Have the big, strong me-en decided how to tackle this mess besides with a bulldozer?" I grinned.

"Now, you're just being a woman, Joss," Arnold pointed at a spot on the wall and sprayed a mark at the spot.

"Is that the spot?" and I scanned and gave him a thumbs' up.

"Hit it, Jason," and Jason pointed at the wall, delicately slamming into and through the large wooden exterior timbers; the wood yielded to form an opening big enough for four.

"Let's go," I announced, but Arnold grabbed my arm.

"Not you, Joss," and I glared at him.

"And, you have another dozen people in your pocket?"

"If anything happened to you, Joss," he pleaded with his eyes, but he knew he had lost.

He released my arm and pointed: "Lead the way, Miss Possible," and I went in.

I don't know what Jason had used to form the hole, but the walls were perfectly smooth for about 4 meters, and it opened up onto a large room piled with debris from the floors above.

I scanned and pointed at the larger pile of furniture: couches were piled on top of something or someone.

Jason walked over, bent down, and pulled a couch out of the way with one grunt.

Nothing moved, but a tiny whimper came out.

"help…."

"We're coming!" I replied, not realized that I'd shouted. "Hold on!" and Jason looked at the pile and began to systematically pull furniture away, and the pile never gave any indication of collapse.

"Hold!" Arnold yelled, and he went to a spot and knelt down. He reached into the pile and pulled out a hand, followed by a small arm and head, and then the rest of the body came out.

I went to the young girl and took her hand, and she looked up at me in shock.

"I know you!" she said. "You were in the Middleton Airport with Kim, last Christmas," and I tried to think back, and I remembered:

"Jesse, right?" and she beamed as Arnold, Jason, and JT pulled her two more people from the furniture and rubble pile.

"MOMMY!" she yelled as she saw her mother: I helped her up, and she ran to her open mother's arms.

"Mommy, it's another one of Kim's friends from the airport, remember?" and she grinned as her mother furrowed her brow and looked at me. Recognition slammed her face as she saw my red hair sticking out of the cowl.

"Miss Possible! What are you doing here in Alberta?"

"I should ask you the same question, Officer," and she smiled even bigger. "Are the Middleton mountains not good enough or do you need to find your earthquakes and avalanches in other places?"

"My husband: it's a mixed marriage, he' Canadian and I'm Native Texan," and I laughed as her husband wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "We came up to see his parents…" she got real quiet.

"We're not finished, Officer: there's some more work for us to do, so if you'll head down that tunnel, there a doctor from NSRS at the end to help you," Arnold told the family, and the husband nodded and started to lead his family out, but the daughter broke free and ran back to me, jumping into my arms.

"I want to be just like you and Mommy and Kim when I grow up, helping people. Thank you," and she kissed my cheek, jumped down, and ran back to her mother. They waved as they went into the tunnel.

"We've got more," I said after a second, pointing the FIRE unit at the next group of heat sources.

"Let's find Jessie's grandparents," and we went towards the next group.

I looked over at Jason and Arnold, and both of them were wiping dirt out of their eyes. JT wasn't trying to hide her feelings: she had tears on her face, and she looked at me and smiled, walking closer to say something to me.

"How do you handle it, Joss?"

"Handle what, J.T.?"

"That: the little girl's comments, the mother's fears, all of it?"

"Talk to me when this is over, J.T., and I'll even buy the root beer, back at the Bunker. Or, ice cream, if you prefer."

"Both?" she grinned.

"Oink, oink, squeal," I replied, and she giggled.

"Root Beer Floats, on me," I agreed, and we headed for and reached the next spot.

-----

We were lucky: Jessie's grandparents were in the undamaged (well, less-damaged) section of the building that James, Fletch, and the team had evacuated, and we saw them after we finished getting the final five people out of the building. NSRS had arrived and had established a command post, and had tents up for the survivors and those that didn't make it (they were away from the open areas where there were kids present.

Just when I had picked up a cup of hot chocolate, the PosComms went off s second time.

Avalanche: huge ones, and the locations. I grabbed the nearest NSRS rep I could find and showed him the PosComm screen.

"Any skiers in these areas?"

"Shouldn't be; those are the out-of-bounds areas, and there are signs posted everywhere. If it's anyone, it's Yanks," he replied with a look.

"Like me," I smirked, and he blanched.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he started to apologize, and I waved him off.

"No big," and his eyes almost took over his face.

"Are you-"

"No; Cousin," I smiled. "I get that a lot.

"Joss Possible, BlazeIT! S&R.

"ARNOLD!" I yelled over the comlink, and he dropped his coffee: he was a foot in front of me.

"We need the jet: there may be avalanche victims," and he called the jet before I could say another word.

"Mind if I tag along?" he asked. "I know these mountains: raised here," he added as he followed me.

"Hope you don't mind the 'Yank' smell."

"Ouch. I deserved that.

"I'm Howard Henry, by the way," he yelled over the jet spill.

"Hop in, Howard Henry," I added as the jet landed. "But, strap yourself in: this jet hauls."

Before we launched, I launched three MASH units and slaved them to my FIRE unit.

-----

"Head for the South Face," Howard said into the microphone. "That's where the least likely place for NSRS to be, since it's further away from the chair lifts.

"Here," he pointed to the PosComm screen. I touched the screen, and told the pilot to head here first.

I pulled out the FIRE unit and set it to max gain with the MASH unit.

Howard looked at it.

"What can that little thing do?"

"Find the skiers," I replied, and three beeps.

The pilot had turned before I told him, and he was over the location in less than 45 seconds.

Piles of snow.

Piles, and piles, of snow.

"Where?"

"Down," Arnold sent coordinates to the pilot; he had found the only hard pack on the deposited snow. We all exited, and I headed for a spot.

"Down 45 degrees, approximately 4 meters down, three heat sources," and Jason and J.T. dug like lives depended on it.

"How long have you been in this business?" Howard asked me after a few minutes of flying snow from the expanding site.

"My first trainwreck," and his jaw dropped.

"My sincere apologies, Miss Possible: you know your shit," and he stuck out his hand.

"GOT'EM!" Jason yelled, and Arnold jumped into the hole.

Howard ran over and tossed a line in, then tied it to one of the fallen trees.

Out came the three skiers, Jason, J.T., and Arnold.

"You're very lucky," Howard glared at them, "that there were professionals close by to save your sorry bums."

-----

(Mount Middleton Recreational Ski Resort, Middleton, Colorado, November 21: event day 30)

(Dr. Wade Load)

"Did Lindsey do all that to him?" I asked Rebecca Jane as we rose.

"Oh, yea," she smiled.

"He's not even frustrated with Kim and Ron anymore," and it was time for my jaw to drop.

"WHAT?"

"It's true, Wade."

"How?" I asked, but before she could respond or Will could announce the sitch, my PosComm buzzed.

Rebecca Jane's went off at the same time.

Avalanches. Multiple. Mount Middleton Recreational Ski Resort. Casualties.

"We're going in hot," Will over the comlink. "We have people who need us last week.

"We'll do the quick deploy-rear, Rebecca Jane. I'll put the jet on remote and deplane after I drop everyone. Five minutes until drop, people, so let's get ready.

"What's that, Rebecca Jane?" I asked, and several agents laughed.

"We're not landing, Wade."

"Are we jumping?" more laughter.

"More like dropping, Wade," and she hit a button on the side of her seat, and the seats all swiveled to face forward, and I heard a mass sound of steel dropping into place.

"Strap in, Wade," and she, now in front of me, reached up and pulled down crossing chest straps. I did the same, locking them in clamps on my seat.

"Now what?" I asked, and the back of the plane opened as the jet dropped speed suddenly and dropped straight down.

I passed my stomach on the way down.

We hovered, then the plane shot forward as a large parachute deployed behind us, caught air, and the entire floor of the jet was pulled out and landed on the snow behind the plane, dropping only a few feet to the ground.

"Let's go, people!" came from Rebecca Jane, and the entire group of agents unhooked in unison and all stood. I was still trying to get free.

One of the agents came over and helped me get out of the web of harnesses.

I felt like Ron, parachuting.

I reached down, grabbed my bag and ran to my assigned SnowTV. I jumped in with Rebecca Jane behind the wheel.

"Your place or mine?" I grinned, and she gunned the engine and took off before I had my seat belt on.

Never piss off your driver: a good rule to follow, guys.

-----

We drove through the roads where cars were buried; finally, we got to the Mount Middleton Recreational Ski Resort; that is, what we could see:

I launched three MASH units and sent them to points where I could triangulate anything we found, and I slaved them to my FIRE unit.

A wall of snow easily 20 feet tall hid almost the entire face of the lodge. The path up to the mountain where the chair lifts were was gone, only sticks that I later realized were the cable poles were sticking out of the snow.

A handful of people were coming from behind the snow wall, and Rebecca Jane drove up to them.

"How's the lodge?"

"It was a surprise, ma'am: the design worked," one of the ladies said.

"What design?"

"Mine," a man replied, stepping out from the small pack.

"Hector Mendez, designer of the snow guide system. We installed it last winter after installing several in the Pyrenees and Alps, and it passed with flying colors."

"WHAT PASSED?" wow, I never knew Rebecca Jane could yell like that, and Hector was obviously surprised, as well.

"The snow guide system: the snow from the avalanche is guided into the river channels by a series of what appear to be decorative baffles, and the lodge survives."

"BUT WHAT ABOUT THE PEOPLE ALONG THE RIVER?" She grabbed his collar and shook him as she yelled, then she threw him to the ground.

"Wade," she calmed down a bit, and I was already scanning downstream from our site.

"He got lucky: I'm only finding 10 people, and they're all moving this way," and as if on cue the people that dodged the real-live snow plow came around the corner.

"HELP!" a man yelled from the group called, and Rebecca Jane and I ran towards her.

He was helping a lady who looked like she could barely stand, and she was carrying a bundle in her arms.

I reached her first, and looked into her bundle.

An infant, almost totally blue.

I touched her: cold.

I checked for a pulse: barely.

I took the infant and yelled for a doctor over the comlink while I started infant CPR.

I kept going for a long time as the mother watched me, cold tears on her face as the man held her.

"I tried to get her warm after we got out from under the mountain of snow that landed on us. I couldn't," and I realized that he was wearing only a t-shirt: the bundle that she was wrapped in was his jacket and shirt.

"Wade." A soft voice.

Rebecca Jane put her hand on my shoulder.

"Wade." She repeated.

I didn't hear her.

I didn't want to hear her.

I knew what she was going to say, and I didn't want to hear it.

"I'm sorry, Wade," as the medical team ran up next to me and stopped. I looked over my shoulder and saw a flash of red and yellow: Hot Dogs, and I remembered my conversation with Joss.

"You did everything you could, Wade."

"NO! She's NOT gone, Rebecca Jane! I can do more!" I kept going, but the mother reached over and touched my face tenderly after a few seconds.

"Thank you for caring, sir," and I looked up to see my tears reflected in hers.

"Thank you for trying to save my daughter," she took her baby from my arms.

Before I could respond, my FIRE unit went of with an almost steady stream of locator beeps.

I looked down at it and grimaced.

"Bad news, Rebecca Jane: that's our problem," and I pointed up towards the mountain.

"I'm counting over 200 heat sources up there, and that doesn't include the ones that are far too still: that's another 40 or so."

"Wade, do you-" and I tossed her the bag.

"60 FIRE units, Rebecca Jane, all itching to be used, and all configured to be slaved to the MASH units," and I swear I thought she was going to jump me in the show. Her hug almost smothered me, and she pulled away just as Will came walking up, laughing at what he saw.

"Will! Catch!" she tossed him the bag of FIRE.

"FIRE Units. Get them to all the agents, and make sure that they all have their locators set to maximum power and slaved to the MASH units. It's easy to do: even a big mouse could do it. We're heading up the mountain.

"How many?" he asked.

"At least 200 that we can find right now," she replied as she ran towards the SnowTV, and Will sucked wind. He reached onto his back, pulled his skis off, dropped them to the ground and stepped into them.

"WADE! Haul you scientific ass over here, toot sweet!" Rebecca Jane? I grinned as I ran to the SnowTV and jumped in.

"Let's go, genius hero," and she gunned it. We shot up the mountain, heading for the highest point where we had received an infrared reading.

"Are you all right, Rebecca Jane?" as we moved up the mountain.

"I'm fine, Wade," she said into the channel that she had secured for the two of us, "how about you?"

"I'm scared out of my mind, Rebecca Jane."

"You sure didn't show it, back there with that mother and her child, Wade:

"You were more professional than most people I've seen in similar situations: calm, head in the game, and compassionate.

"I'm glad I got to see that it confirmed what I've always thought of you, Wade.

"And, really, Wade, I'm fine," she turned her face towards me for a moment, and her face was dried from tears that had fallen while we drove.

"Snake muffins, Rebecca Jane," and she laughed.

"You're as scared as me; the thing is, I can get away with it, me being younger that all of you.

"I won't tell, Rebecca Jane, I promise," and she smiled at me and kissed the air.

"Does she know just how lucky she is, Wade?" she asked as we neared the site.

"I try to tell her all the time, and sometimes she actually believes me," I replied, dead-panned, and she laughed again.

"Thanks, Wade.

"We're here, according to the bearings," and we stopped in front of a pole sticking about a foot out of the snow.

"Straight down, Rebecca Jane," I told her, checking the readings. "Looks like about 5 meters down."

"How many?"

"Ten or twelve, I can't be certain: they're huddled too close together."

"Well, so much for shovels," and she pulled out a set of devices and stuck them into the ground, about 6 feet out from the pole and in a circle.

"Wade, take the TV outside the range of the circle," she told me, and I got in the driver's seat.

"Rebecca Jane?"

"What?"

"Do I have to have a driver's license to operate this vehicle in an emergency?"

She looked at me like I'd just turned into Will and Betty at the same time, then burst out laughing.

"Drive, mister," she commanded.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, starting it and pulling it forward out of the circle's radius.

Before I turned around, I heard a gigantic "POOF!" and felt a splash of water slam into my back.

I turned, and the snow inside the radius was gone: there was a perfect six-foot circle around the pole that went down about 4 meters: I could tell that because I could see the tops of hats sticking out of the snow.

Rebecca Jane shot her line into the ice wall on the far side of the hole that she'd made, then turned and shot another one in the opposite wall.

She hooked four lines to the cross line and tossed one to me.

"Going down" she stated and jumped, landing on the snow as she slid down the line to the top of the bottom of the hole.

"Next," I yelled as I followed her lead, landing not quite as gracefully.

She dug for a few seconds, grabbed a hand sticking up, and pulled. A body followed, coughing up a fit of snow.

I did the same and got the same results: this one was a young man, a bit older than me.

We pulled 15 out of the hole: there were three full lift chairs that had been pushed back into the cable support pole when the snow rolled in.

The ones that couldn't climb up the lines, I gave a ride up on my back after I shot my line into the pole sticking out of the ground.

We checked vitals: other than being cold (D'OI!!), they were remarkably well. We left a heater and a locator beacon for them and radioed to the patrols to send a snow bus up the mountain for them.

I forgot to ask Rebecca Jane what she used to get rid of the snow.

-----

"Not bad for your first rescues, Wade," Rebecca Jane said as we headed to the fifth and final site.

"It looked a lot easier than it really WAAAAAAAAA!" the SnowTV fell into a hole that appeared in front of us.

We flipped forward on the way down and landed upside down in the bottom of a deep crevasse, and the engine kept running.

"Rebecca Jane!" I got no response.

"REBECCA JANE!" and I got a low moan.

I unstrapped and fell, tucking so I didn't smash my head against a hidden rock or tree branch or something; unfortunately, I twisted my arm when I landed: that was not fun. I reached up and turned the engine off: no use burning gas or suffocating at the bottom of a hole.

I found Rebecca Jane on the ground, and her left leg was twisted underneath her.

It didn't look pretty.

"Where's the medical bag?" I yelled at myself as I dug through the things dumped on the hole floor.

"I left it with the last group," she said, and winced as she tried to sit up.

"Stop, RJ: your leg's broken, and my arm's a bit twisted, so neither of us is in the best of condition.

"I think I can get Will on the PosComm if I bounce off a satellite; otherwise, we may be here a while," and I pointed the PosComm straight up and fired a signal.

Nothing.

I went to the other side of the vehicle and thought for a minute, and then I decided:

I unhooked my suit top from the bottom and pulled it off, leaving my t-shirt on.

I came around the vehicle and tried to put the suit top on Rebecca Jane, and she pushed me back.

"What in the heck are you doing, Wade?"

"Getting you warm, RJ: the top of the suit has a built-in body heat enhancer, so it'll help you stay warm."

"And you don't need the, why?"

"I've got the bottoms: same thing there.

"Besides, Rebecca Jane, your suit is torn, and the heat exchanger's busted."

"Wade?"

"Yes?"

"I hate to tell you, but my top and your top-" she blushed.

"Gee, RJ, I never noticed," I smirked.

"You can wrap enough of you in it to keep warm.

"You're hurt, and you need this more than me. So, here," and I pulled it onto her shoulders and her body.

After she pulled it as tight as she could, "I'll gladly volunteer to help keep the rest of you warm," I smiled, and she smiled, but she had an evil grin cross her face after a few seconds.

"Joss, did you get that earlier transmission?" she asked, and I laughed.

'Right, Joss was on the line.'

"Shore thing, Rebecca Jane. Aggie, we need to talk when we get back," Joss' smirks came across the comlink.

Oops….

"Your PosComm may not reach the satellite, Wade, but my comlink in my suit is GJ-issue. I connected a few minutes ago while you were on the other side.

"Will's coming in a few-"

"Will's here, Rebecca Jane," Will called down from the top of the hole.

"I'd say something about women drivers, but Lindsey would kill me, so I'll be good for a change," and I knew Will was in serious trouble.

He and a couple of agents got a gurney down into the hole, and I managed to get Rebecca Jane into it without smashing her leg too badly. They pulled her up, and Will tossed a line down to me.

"Need a hand?" and I smiled as they reeled me up topside.

"Thanks, Will," I said as I topped the hole.

"Thank you, Wade: what you did likely saved her leg and her life."

"Not bad for a day's work, Aggie," came over the comlink, and I smiled.

"Right back at'cha, Sweet Tea," and I walked over to the SnowTV where Rebecca Jane was strapped onto the rear rider.

"Wade?"

"Yes, RJ?"

"One: you've more than earned that right to call me RJ.

"Two: thanks for the jacket. Does this mean we're going steady?" and she batted her eyelashes. I laughed.

"Three," and she motioned me closer. When I got close enough, she kissed me.

"Thank you, my friend. I told you before, and I meant it: me, a little younger, or you a little older, and I'd hyave to give Joss a run for her money," and a tear escaped her right eye.

"What about Arnold?" I asked, grinning like a full-bore idiot.

"He asked me last night, and I said yes," her grin split her face, and I had to do it.

"BOOYAH!" and my fist slammed into the air.

"Booyah, indeed, my friend. You get the second dance at the wedding, Wade: Arnold gets the first."

"What about your dad?"

"He'll understand after I tell him why. Hell, Wade, he may want a dance with you, himself, after what you've done," and both the SnowTV and Rebecca Jane headed down the mountain.

"Good job, Wade," and several hands slapped my back.

It wasn't a good job: an infant was dead.

I needed coffee: it was too darn cold without the suit top, and I shivered. Someone put a coat on my back, and I pulled it on. I never knew who to thank for that coat.

When we got to the bottom, Will had received the final numbers from Colorado Emergency Response:

We got all 200 plus 10of the 40 that we thought were dead (they punished us and lived…some punishment).

We lost a total of 38 people, including four teenagers, three kids, and one infant: the baby girl.

I didn't sleep well that night, thinking about the teenagers and kids and the infant that shared a makeshift morgue this evening.

-----

We dropped Rebecca Jane off along the way at the GJ Medical Site. Will, at my request, flew the rest of us to the Bunker for some down time

He didn't seem very upset about the idea, especially when Lindsey was there to greet him when the jet touched down at the Bunker pad.

They just held hands when he jumped out, but I could tell that both of them wanted to do a lot more.

"WADE!" I was assaulted by Strawberry Goodness as she performed more vertical CPR on me.

I didn't complain, and I contributed my part.

"Wade, I was so scared. I know you handed it all so well, but I was scared," her voice was so soft as she put her head on my shoulder.

"I was scared too, Joss, but I knew you were with me, in spirit," I matched her whispering.

"Private party?" and we both raised our heads:

"KIM!" I yelled.

"RON!" Joss yelled.

"JOE!" we both yelled, and Kim and Ron joined our hug.

"Joe, you'd better git your rump over here, of I'll sic Cousin Kim on you," Joss grinned, and Joe walked over and was captured by the Jocelyn Possible gravitational pull.

"What was the end result, Joe?" Lindsey asked.

"We took 25 prisoners, and we're filing for extradition on 10 of them to Canada.

"The drug take was 25 metric tons of marijuana, 20,000 cases of spray cheezi (twelve cans to a case), and a quarter-ton of Strawberri Shortstuff, that new meth/candy combination that they're targeting at the elementary schools: estimated street value is US $255 million, at current prices.

"The best news?" and Joe pointed up to the last of the falling snow flurries.

"Blue skies, thanks to all of you." and we all smiled.

-----

I will never forget Patricia Jeannette Chen, age four months forever, and I'll always remember that feeling of helplessness, of not being able to do everything and come out on top.

I still remember her mother's look when she took her from me, wishing that she could trade places with her daughter.

I went to her funeral, as did all of us that were on the mountain that day from Global Justice, and BlazeIT!, and I gave her parents a tiny jumper with the emblem and PJC on the front.

Her parents thanked me for trying so hard to save her.

They sent me a note a year later: she had gotten pregnant and given birth to a baby boy; they named him Wade Joshua. I sent him a BlazeIT! a jumper with the emblem and WJC on the front.

I couldn't save her, no matter what I did or could have done: that's what haunted me.

I asked Stephanie to look after Patricia; Steph always was a great big sister.

One day, when Mom and Dad were both out of town on business, I met with Kim at my house, and I told her that I now truly understood her for the first time, and then I told her about Patricia Jeannette. She cried with me.

I needed that.

-----

chapter now complete.

-----

Author's afterward:

-----

So many people to thank, so little space:

A very special set of thanks go out to the following:

Zaratan, as my resident expert on all things Canadian (how's that for stereotyping!): governmental agencies that don't appear on the Canadian government's web site, confirmation on medals information, and providing anecdotal evidence of the trafficking routes.

CajunBear73 and whitem for virtual beta'ing me this past week when I slammed them with two passes as the story grew like Drakken's reasons for not taking over the world. t the first 1/2 of the chapter:

Several of you, including King in Yellow, Star-Eva01, and Sir Sebastian in many discussions with them regarding disparate topics, some of which ended up in this chapter and others going other places (plot bunny re-use).

A very special thank you to the Egyptian Eagle-eye, Pharaoh Rutin Tutin, for both beta-ing what turned out to be the first two quarters of the story (at that time, I thought they were thirds) and keeping me in line with discussions on everything but RuGo. Thanks, guy: I hope I've helped you as much as you have helped me.

Those unannounced readers who have read and not reviewed the past chapters and this one: thanks for stopping by. I hope I've given you some laughs, some tears, and some things to think about.

The most important person that I neglected to thank was Jana S: she was the inspiration behind Jocelyn's actions on the road that night (Late August, event minus 6 weeks….), because she did the same thing for another young man: stayed with him, as one Angel, when another Angel came and took him Home. Jana, I've told you privately, and now I'll tell you publicly: YOU ROCK in FULL DOLBY!

- - - - - -

Preview:

"WADE!" Joss yelled she pushed me down while the fire jumped and ran over our heads, and a CRASH from behind us confirmed my worst fears:

The wall behind us had fallen, and the fire had gotten behind us, again.

"Joss, I'm sorry I got you into this."

"Snake muffins, Wade," she replied as she kicked the door in front of us open, and we ran into the room and slammed the door shut, pushing a dresser against the door.

Good news: the fire was outside the door.

Bad news: the room had no windows.

"Wade?" I looked at her, and she was terrified.

"It's fire, Wade," she whispered, and she threw herself into my arms and sobbed.

I knew what she meant:

Sheri Nicole, the fire outside of their cage, and Joss, forced to sleep for days laying next to her dead mother.

This was not going to happen again, not to Joss.

Not on my watch.

- - - - - -

Fire Saving Blues, Chapter 9 (the final chapter) of Training Table Blues: is next. Stay tuned….

- - - - - -

For all the Jade fans:

Thanks for your continued support, and PM me if you have any questions about the JadeKimVerse. I respond to all PMs, emails, and reviews.

I've established a forum ("JadeKimVerse discussions") where I will post more details about my current Jade stories, upcoming chapters and stories and schedules for release, as well as answer any questions that you may have. I'll continue to post to Zaratan's forum, but it's getting busier…

Thanks again for reading, and please review.

- - - - - - -