I do not own any Disney character named herein, and am writing this story for entertainment purposes only.
Kim Possible: Bad Girls
Original Story By Twisted-Wun & LJ58
Edited and Reposted (With Permission) by LJ58
5
"I'm surprised to see you here," Shego, dressed as Carla Greene, businesswoman, drawled as she offered Betty a drink from a private bottle. She didn't even glance to Will Du, who stood stiff and silent behind his superior.
She wasn't overly surprised when the head of Global Justice turned her down.
"Afraid I'll drug you?"
"I favor doing business with a clear head."
"Is that what this is," Shego drawled blandly. "A business call?"
"It is. Suppose I told you I had evidence you were….moonlighting again. With Kim Possible."
"I'd wonder if you weren't already drinking," Shego chortled, pouring herself a drink, and taking a long sip before settling behind her desk. "So, why don't you cut to the chase, Dr. Director," she called her blandly, "And quit wasting my time?"
"I know Kimberly is here."
"Do you?"
"We spotted her on satellite recon when we surveyed your island. I understand she goes by Jade now. She's gotten quite the underground rep, too."
Shego actually laughed.
"You honestly think Kimmie…..? Wow, you've gotten old, woman. Shall I call Jade in here? Would that help?"
"It's a start."
"Hanna," she buzzed her PA. "Call 'Jade' in here, would you? Our guest would like to meet her."
"Right away, Ms. Greene," the woman replied. "I think she just finished her act."
"Her….act," Betty frowned.
"This is a working resort, Dr. D," she said, smirking slightly now as she again sipped from her glass.
"While we wait, why don't you tell me about your little smack down with Jade back in the states. I heard she put you down pretty fast. Must have been a shock?"
"Not really. Although I'm not surprised you heard about that. You freaks always did have long noses. Frankly, after all your questions, I got curious myself, and went looking. Whatever your flunkies did to her, you messed up little Kimmie's head but good. I couldn't get her to say two words. And I think we both know I've gotten pretty….rusty."
"Apparently."
"That said, I don't think you want to have anything to do with that girl now. She's changed. A lot. The funny thing is…. Your side did it. Not me. Not Drew, or his loopy gizmos. It was all you. That must stick in your craw," Shego tittered, rising to refill her glass again.
"I'm trying to keep her from making worse mistakes here, Shego," Dr. Director told her.
Shego turned to glare at her.
"Worse than killing Drew? Worse than putting half your flunkies in traction that last time they tried to jump her?"
"They weren't ours. They were part of the U.S. agencies."
"Oh, them." she muttered, sitting back down with her fresh drink.
Betty merely eyed her.
She was about to speak again when someone tapped at the door. They both looked up as a very convincing redhead walked into the door, and demanded, "Why is she here?"
"Cool off, Cammie," Shego told her. "Bets here just wanted to meet 'Jade.' She seems to think we're harboring fugitives here."
"Cammie?" "Show her," Shego smirked, and Jade's very familiar face flowed as the hair faded, and brightened, and a very infamous blonde shape-shifter ended up standing there, glaring at her with a sour look.
"Satisfied," Camille demanded.
"You're actually impersonating Kim Possible now," Betty Director asked her bluntly.
"It's a popular act," the blonde shrugged, and then walked over to sit down. "Besides, it's a living," the deposed heiress sniffed. "Now, why are you here busting my chops about this anyway? Haven't you and your pet boy-toy gotten enough jollies poking into other people's lives?"
Betty said nothing as she glanced at Will. The man glared, but said nothing.
"You have to see how this looked," Dr. Director told her, but eyed Shego as she spoke. "And if you want to be personal, don't you think it's about time you finally crawled home to apologize to your father?"
"Yeah? If you're so worried about families, you one-eyed busybody," the blonde shot. "How about telling me how Sheldon is doing? Oh, right. You can't. You put him in a coma yourself last I heard. Visit much?"
Betty just scowled.
"I'd say, probably not," Shego spoke up again with a faint smirk.
"Shego," Betty hissed.
"Listen, if you two know anything about…..?"
"Kimmie? Not interested. Like I said, I tried burying the hatchet a few months ago. I'm sure you know all about the details already, you twisted voyeur," Shego taunted. "So you likely already know how well that went. Well, I'm out. Staying out. You're on your own. And…. Since this interview is over, I'll thank you to take your flunkies off my private island before I have to use my government contacts. The ones that loathe GJ," she smiled coldly.
Betty glared, then spat, "This isn't over, Shego," as she nodded at Will.
The man glared all the more, but still said nothing as they walked out of the office, and headed for their jet.
"You called her Shego again," Will finally said grimly as they were rising into the air, the mission obviously a complete bust.
"That's right," Dr. Director said coolly as she eyed the monitor before her where Shego and Camille, not looking like Possible again, waved them off with smug leers. "Because that definitely wasn't Carla Greene. Whatever it was…. However it happened….. Shego is definitely back. And she looks in better shape than she has in years. She definitely has the attitude back."
"Possible was here," he realized.
"There is no doubt in my mind," the woman agreed.
"What do we do?"
"For now. Nothing. All we can do is wait for her next move."
"Suddenly I find I can empathize with what some of her foes must have felt," Will grimaced. "She was one step ahead of us all along."
"Five steps, Will," Dr. Director told us. "And we still don't even know what endgame she's playing yet. God help us, she could tear the intelligence community apart with the information she has in her hands. She could well tear the world apart."
"We should speak to the Agency heads again. They obviously know more than what they told us. Even Possible wouldn't risk all this over a simple jail term."
"Maybe, Will. Whatever happened, though, I've never been convinced she even pulled that trigger."
"But….?"
"Never," she said quietly. "So, yes. We need to speak to Simon again. Before she does pull a trigger. One that damns us all."
KP
Jacob Phelps rolled over when he brushed involuntarily at whatever was tickling his ear.
He gasped as he saw the shadow leaning over his wife.
"I wouldn't move too quickly. These things have a hair trigger. But, you know that. Don't you Jake?"
The lean, dark-haired agent's eyes tracked the arm down to where he spotted his own familiar .77 mini-mag custom aimed right at his sleeping wife's ear.
He gasped as the shadowy figure only chortled.
"Don't worry. She won't be waking up for a few hours. Of course, if you try something stupid, she won't be waking up at all."
Something clicked in his mind, and carefully lay back, forcing himself to relax as he demanded, "What do you want, Possible?"
"Clever. Only I'm not her. I'm a glyph. A nonentity. I'm what you wanted, but can't control," the shadow growled.
"Cry me a river. You think you're the first sacrifice we've made for this country? I'd kill a hundred more just like Drakken, or you, to do what is necessary to keep our country safe."
"Especially if you're so well paid. Right? Besides, I could care less about Drakken. Just as I could care less about you. I want to know the man that pulled the strings. The man that gave the order. Who's the boss, Jake? We both know it's not Simon. He's a pencil-pusher. A puppet. Who holds the strings? Who….gave that order," she demanded, and pulled back the hammer on the custom pistol.
"You won't pull that trigger…."
"Want to bet on that? Want to bet your wife's life on it? How about your children? Such cute, innocent little creatures. Little Tommy, sleeping with that adorable cuddle-buddy you bought him. How about Emmie and Jen? Lovely little twins. Almost remind me of other twins I knew. Almost. I do hope they have the chance to grow up," she growled maliciously.
Jacob swallowed hard. "I can't tell you anything."
"Oh, I think you will. Because just like your last mission, this pistol is going to be found with your prints, and only your prints. You think you'd be the first to snap, and take out his own family?"
"Good God!"
"A name, Jacob," she snarled. "Or it starts getting messy."
"Hinton! Robert Hinton!"
"The Secretary of State?"
"He was head of Black Ops back then. He's the one that came up with the idea to draft Stoppable. He felt you were too willful. Too independent. He felt we could manage the ninja boy without you if you were…..neutralized."
"You boys didn't know Ron at all, did you? I'm not surprised. Few do," she laughed, and eased back the hammer, removing the gun from his wife's ear. "Now, I'm going to make things easy on you, Jake. Confess. Confess everything you did to Team Possible, and Dr. Drak…. Drew Lipski, or all those papers you guys are drooling over? I'm selling them. Every operation. Every name. Every agent's family. All over the net. All for everyone to see. Think about that one while you balance the scales. You have one week to confess."
"I can't….!"
"That's one week for Ron's vindication. But you have an even more serious timeline."
"Wh-What do you mean?"
"In twenty-four hours, I want restitution from you, and your boy's club in the amount of fifty million dollars. American dollars, of course, not that Euro crap. Here's the account," she told him, dropping a card on his chest. "If one second after the deadline passes, and the money isn't there, I blow up your D.C. Headquarters. And start killing all your families. From Simon's on down."
"You….. All this because Drakken got iced?"
"Twenty-four hours," she told him curtly, not saying more before she tossed the gun into his lap, and then leapt fearlessly out of the second story window that he knew he had not left open.
Howling in fury, he snatched up the gun, raced to the window, and spotted a shadow moving across the yard. Firing twice in quick succession, he didn't hear a voice. He heard a canine yelp as his daughters' pet German Shepherd went down.
"Daddy, daddy," stereo voices shouted as he gasped, hearing the feet running down the hall. "What happened? We heard shots," the eleven year old twins gasped. "Was that Bixby that yelled," Emily asked as Jacob turned to stare at them.
Both girls had small bull's-eyes drawn onto their foreheads with a red marker.
"Go back to bed," he grit out, feeling his eyes drawn to that small business card left on the bed as if it were magnetized.
"But, daddy," Jennifer wailed. "What about Bixby? Who was you shooting…..?'
"Bixby," Emily cried, looking out of his window and seeing their beloved dog laying out in the back yard, not moving.
"Damn it, girls…. Wait," he shouted in vain as both girls fled the bedroom, heading downstairs.
He snatched up the card, but all he saw was an account number at a certain bank. One he knew from experience fronted for offshore banking he knew catered to a lot of questionable patrons. He had no doubt the moment the money was put in any account, it would vanish.
If they paid her.
Yet if they didn't?
Possible had outmaneuvered them again.
Gently rolling his wife over, he saw the same mark drawn on her brow.
"Bitch," he hissed even as he heard his girls scream, and their wails sounded from below.
His son, he knew, could sleep through an earthquake.
Reaching for a phone, he dialed a number, and hissed. "She made contact."
He listened for a moment, then cut off his superior.
"Listen, damn it, she made demands. Will you listen? We have twenty-four hours before it hits the fan but good. Even then, we have one week before she sells the data anyway. So, listen," he spat, and began to report what had happened.
As expected, his superior was less than happy.
KP
"What are they doing," Will asked as they listened to the phone call that had been recorded, and broadcast across several anti-government websites. A very damning phone call considering how much Phelps let leak over a supposedly open line. It didn't help that the impromptu interrogation was added to the airtime.
"They're paying her off," she realized as she listened to the part of the call only GJ's hackers managed to get before the Agency belatedly pulled the plug on the website.
"Wrong tact," Will frowned. "Even I doubt she would actually blow up the…."
"You don't know Kimberly at all, do you? And consider, there are more ways to 'blow something up' than the obvious."
"But the death threats?"
"I don't know. Honestly, I don't know. She isn't acting like herself, Will. I'm afraid, God help me, I am afraid she might be serious about those threats."
"Do we sanction her, then?"
"No. No, that won't help. We push her any harder now, and she might well cross that final line."
"Cross…? She's already threatening….!"
"We're seeing vindication here, Will. Nothing more. Until she endangers innocent lives, I won't make a move."
"Are you serious?"
"That's what I told Simon when he called earlier."
Will grimaced as he sifted the data before them. "So, how did he take it."
"Not well. How is your research going?"
"Satellite, and our traditional surveillance has picked up no less than fourteen Kim Possibles showing up across the globe in various locations. All at the exact time she apparently broke into Phelps' house."
"So, fifteen doubles. Even I would like to know how she managed that since she and Camille can't be everywhere."
"You think Camille is actively working with….her?"
"So is Shego. We just can't prove it."
"But….?"
"We can't prove it. Not yet. Until we have hard evidence one way or the other, we can't move. It's part of the reformed U.N. charter that was voted on last year. The cowboy years are done, Agent Du. Now, let's let the Americans enjoy their own handiwork," she said just a little smugly.
Will understood completely.
"And if she starts killing? Innocents?"
"Then, God help us, we will have to bring her down. Any way we can."
Continued…