Author's Note: First – Apologies. I would like to claim my long absence was due to work or graduation, building a fence, or even my laptop blue screening on me (multiple times). These events played a roll though in truth a sudden obsession with C&C Tiberium Wars/Red Alert 3 is mostly to blame.
Fortunately I managed to overcome such an obsession (Kane's Wrath is hard) and recover my plot ideas from the laptop before it lost its month long battle to tether itself to life. Farewell my faithful friend through the college years.
Bad punctuation is sometimes intentional (or so I claim). Goes double for speech patterns.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible™ or any character, location or event from that said show.
Last time on Legend of A Monkey Master
- Dr Anne Possible had growing concerns over Kim's exploits. She forbad Kim from engaging in any more missions without her express permission.
- Joe was not pleased with the teams' performance during their jaunt to Europe. Ron's actuary father calculated, statistically speaking, Ron should not have lived past Grammar school, yet along be engaging villains. The young hero was left unsure of his role on the team.
- Senor Junior accepted an invitation by Gemini of WE to join an expedition seeking ancient items of value.
....
Ch 3: Monty
"… inscriptions in a stone wall excavated in Punjab province, India, depict a city of great prestige resided in this area of the Laos jungle as recently as 800 years ago," Lord Fiske circled the approximate area on his map with his pinky, holding a print campus between the index finger and thumb of his gloved hand. "Then it ceased to exist – allowing the jungle to reclaim what was lost."
"Fascinating Lord Fiske," the reporter, seeming a little too interested. Kim had to credit his acting skills. Lord Fiske response was to snort.
"I'm quite sure it isn't, unless you're an archaeologist with more than a few eccentricities. Not until I'm allowed to explain the juicy details. You see, by rights this city should never have existed. There is no reason to build a community here - rough terrain, far from the ocean with no major waterway; far from any trade route that we know of. No record of it ever having existed aside from vague references inscribed on an obscure ruin…."
The reporter smirked. "I'm certain your detractors will be pleased to hear you so generously repeat their arguments against this expedition."
"Quite so. I do not blame my colleges for their scepticism. They don't have the trust fund I do with which to fuel wild goose chases. I, however, have a lead no other archaeologist has."
The reporter was perplexed, waiting for Fiske to enlighten him. The aristocrat's answer was to tap his crippled leg with his crutch.
"The ache in my knee. It has yet to lead me wrong."
The four chime ring of her Kimmunicator stirred Kim from a lazy evening on the couch. She removed the device from the front pocket on her oversized green, hooded jersey and sat up straight, reaching for the remote to turn down the TV volume as she pressed the talk button. Wade - her friend and operator of her website, , Wade effortlessly maintained and expanded her job search site (and sometimes hazardous missions) with his computer wizardry. Even the tweebs, Kim's obnoxious twin siblings, had yet to dent his security. Neither had their 'Kim's nose hair' blog had not been safe from the avenging boy genius.
"Please sitch me Wade. Even archaeology specials on TV are beginning to sound fascinating."
"Your mom only grounded you yesterday. This morning even."
Kim retorted, claiming with mock seriousness, "I'm a caged bird, Wade. I need to fly."
"I might have something for you…." Wade paused, raising an eyebrow. "Although given your opinion of archaeology I don't know how you'll feel about it. Funny you should mention it."
"Let's hear it."
"I received a hit on the site. Not a request for help. An invitation to join an expedition – from Lord Monty Fiske."
Kim returned her attention to the figure being interviewed on the muted TV. She gaped at the idea this man, this respected and adventurous British icon, could be inviting her to anything!
"Thee Monty Fiske? The famous explorer? The one on TV right now?" She was already fidgeting with the remote, trying to return the sound on a low volume as Wade confirmed, "Yep. That's the one."
"… the people, the culture, why they were there…."
"And why they left?" the reported added.
"And why they left," Fiske confirmed, "although the apparent timing of its abandonment does not surprise me in the least. It seems to have fallen from grace approximately during the rise of Genghis Khan's Mongolian Empire…."
Kim had heard name Genghis Khan before, as most have I'm sure. It is a name that has the power to rattle nations' collective memories and individuals to be awed by terrible greatness. Names like Julius Caesar, Stalin - or Darth Vader. Yet Kim knew little more than the name, knowing even less sure of his exploits than those of the other three (which said a great deal given all she knew of Vader was he dressed in black, had a shinny red laser sword, breaths as heavily as Uncle Larry when he spots a first edition Star Trek action figure). Kim certainly had not a clue of the connection between Khan, the Mongols and Laos.
"We're moving up in the world."
"We've been invited to plenty of talk-shows before. We passed them up. Why should we accept this invitation?"
Kim spoke the words but her tone said otherwise. She wanted Wade to convince her to go, was pleading with him too. And Wade obliged.
"This is bigger than Oprah. Lord Fiske is an icon! He's like a British Steve Irwin! You know – without actually jumping on a crocodile. He has knee issues."
"Tell me about him."
In moments Wade pulled up a comprehensive biography on the life of Lord Monty Fiske; explorer extraordinaire, philanthropist and keen motorcycle enthusiast.
"He celebrated his high school graduation by riding solo across the United States on a sight seeing tour. He set out to become the world's leading archaeologist soon after touring lost city of Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, so returned to England and Oxford – after taking a scenic route down through Central America to Panama."
The biography briefly halted as Wade sifted through more data at phenomenal speeds.
"His whole life has been either exploring ancient civilisations or documenting the diverse wildlife in the areas nearby. His injury stems from an accident during a second stint as a research assistant in Russia. A newly excavated Monastery in the Ural Mountains collapsed while he was exploring the catacombs. He survived thirteen days buried, drinking trickles of rainwater from the surface. The right leg was badly crushed with the muscle tissue severely damaged. It was a medical miracle he didn't die from blood loss although he's been forced to walk with the aid of a crutch since."
"The ground work has already been laid. The expedition team began its search of the region two days ago and I am very eager to join them, however…. First I will be impulsively diverting my private jet to America, hopefully to welcome a 'special guest' to the expedition."
"Who is this 'special guest' Lord Fiske?"
"Ah, ah, ah – all in good time. It would be poor manners to announce names before my guest has a chance to respond to my invitation. Suffice to say we share an appetite for adventure. She is a personal hero of mine whom I am very excited to have the chance to meet."
Kim almost leapt with excitement. "Wade, are you watching this?! He called me his personal hero!"
"He also said he'll be arriving on his personal jet, which," he checked the air traffic control data for the nation, "will be arriving in Middleton in less than an hour," he concluded with a worried edge to his voice. "What are you going to tell your mom?"
The balloon of energy Kim was riding on sprung a leak.
...
"So it wouldn't be a mission. More like a field trip. A learning opportunity!"
Kim managed to convince her parents sit down in the living room together to listen to her presentation. Brain surgeon and rocket engineer, each had demanding schedule which inevitably impacted on time spent with their wonderful family. So it was the Possible parents made it a priority to put the children first. They strove to give each child the time and full attention they deserved. When Kim approached each of them stating she had something important to say neither hesitated to put down lab reports or make promises to call back colleagues at a later time.
Now each considered the offer made by Lord Fiske to spur their daughter away to the other side of the world on this once in a lifetime opportunity, factoring in the dangers as well as the potential for personal development cited by Kim.
"Won't you have to be vaccinated for malaria?"
Of course the doctor in the family would be quick to point this out.
"I've had all the shots."
"When?" Anne demanded.
"Joe – insisted." Her mother's frown at the mention of Joe caused Kim to hesitate.
"And your schoolwork?" asked her father.
"None of my missions have impacted on my grades so far."
"The same can't be of Ron," James argued slyly.
"Yes it can," Kim strongly insisted, losing steam only after thinking her counter-statement the full length through. It was an uneasy admission to say, "he was failing before Dr Drakken."
Not a line of reasoning to sway her mother with as Mrs Dr Possible laid out her primary concern. "What I don't like is that this comes so soon after I forbade you from taking on any more missions. It was only yesterday…."
"This morning," her husband corrected.
Beep beep de beep.
That merciful tone! It saved Kim by preventing her mother from completing her concerns. It was a relief to answer the Kimmunicator, although the caller was not anyone she had anticipated.
"Good evening Miss Possible. Lord Monty Fiske at your service.
"I thought to call ahead to confirm you received my invitation and inquire as to your response and your agent, Mr Load, explained the family dynamic situation to me. Actually, I wish to apologise for my thoughtlessness. It was most unkind to spring this on you so suddenly with no thought to your parents reaction and I wondered if I may be of help. I would dearly like to explain myself to your parents if it would help."
"And we would dearly like to hear it," Anne confirmed, unfolding her legs and rising from the couch to view the newcomer to their family discussion.
"Ah, Dr Possible, you are there. The camera device on Miss Possible's phone did not allow me to spot you."
"We're both here," the other Dr Possible made his presence known. "And what we'd both like to know about you're interest in inviting our Kimmie cub on an expedition."
"Well, my decision was largely cemented by the destruction of Senor Senior's island lair. The word in high circles is your daughter saved Britain from an icy end," Kim refrained from correcting his assumption Britain had been the target, "and truth be told I really never liked the man nor his deranged son. Bravo Miss Possible. Well done."
A smooth answer. Nonetheless, James' interrogation would not be sidestepped so easily. "So you heard the story of how Kim bested a, would be, crazed villain and thought she might be useful to swing past the traps between you and a golden monkey statue in the lost temple of doom?"
"Gracious no!" Fiske could not gauge the seriousness of James' accusation without being able to see his face so his reaction was mixed. He reddened, embarrassed to be thought of willing to place a young soul in danger ahead of himself. Still, he was amused with Dr Possible's fanciful imagination "This is no India Jones movie Dr Possible. There are no snake pits or spiked walls to be found in real archaeological digs, and if there were it would not be your daughter who would be expected to traverse them. I was intending this trip to be a sort of vacation for Kim, a thank you for her works. Although," Fiske's excitable presence diminished, "I admit my idea of a vacation, wondering lost through a South East Asian jungle, isn't everyone's cup of tea. I honestly expected Miss Possible to politely turn down the offer, which would be completely understandable."
Kim's mom considered Fiske's intent. "Just to be clear, this is not a mission. Kimmie will only be present as a guest observer?"
"You have word. I will endeavour to do all I can to keep your Kimmie safe and her mind engaged. This is an intellectual mission of discovery. Tomb Raider was a very poor interpretation of my work. I would look terrible in those tights."
"And she will not fall behind with her school work?" James added.
"It goes without saying. I know a little something about tutoring young minds."
Anne Possible was the first to relent. "Then it's her choice."
The two Possible parents and Lord Fiske waited for her answer.
...
Ron looked over his newly foam padded room, courtesy of Joe after Ron confided in him his actuary father had calculated, statistically, he should not have survived past grammar school. Ron had been hoping for a confidence boost from the old…. Actually, no-one knew what Joe was although the safe bet seemed to be James Bond. The point was: the corners on his door, windowsill, bed, desk all been made child safe, surge protectors and safety plugs had been affixed to all his electrical equipment, reflective orange patches had been sown into all his clothing save those he was wearing; and none of these precautions changed how Ron felt about his clumsiness in the field!
Disheartened, he flopped over onto his mattress, burying his face in the duvet, trying to escape his growing inner doubts but they would not be silenced. "How am I going to tell Kim?" he mused, voice muffled by the covers.
Rufus was not listening. In her cage near the head of the bed, she was enjoying her evening nap after a snack of berries and roots. Ron considered repeating his woes louder to attract her attention and sympathy. He thought better of it. Naked Mole Rats tend to be cranky if they miss their required twenty hours of sleep a day.
He tussled on the bed, attempting to find a more comfortable position. Rotating to lie on his back, he comforted himself with the knowledge, "At least it won't be an issue for a while. Not with Mrs Dr P putting her foot down on these missions."
Ron shifted his glance around the room. Nothing happened. Not an thing stirred. The world around him remained still.
"Yep, I'm safe for week at least. No need to upset Kim with my comments and concerns."
No sirens, no explosions. Still nothing happened. Ron felt the tension leave him.
"Hey, with any luck Kim will focus more on her cheerleading and forget about…."
"RON!" Kim burst into his room and Ron cursed, "You've got to be kiddin' me!"
Breathless and obviously excited, Kim still set aside her news long enough to enquire, "Why is everything in your house padded with foam?"
"It – it – it's a Jewish holiday thing."
His pathetic excuse earned him a suspicious frown. To head off any further enquires Ron sat up and, coaching excitement into his voice, proclaimed. "We have a mission!"
As predicted, Kim launched into her news. "No. No, not a mission. We've been invited to join the latest expedition of Lord Monty Fiske! He's talking to your Mom and Dad over the Kimmunicator now!"
"Oh, Lord – who?"
"The world famous explorer, Monty Fiske." Kim sat down on the bed next to him. "The guy who digs up ancient cities and does those animal documentaries. He walks with a crutch?" Ron remained mystified.
"He wants to take us to explore the Laos jungle to search for a lost city!" Kim exclaimed.
"Jungle!" Now Kim held Ron's full attention. "No, no. No, Kim I don't want to go to a jungle."
And he now held hers. Kim recognised his intensifying anxiety. She realised her thoughtless error.
"Ron, hey, look at me…." She leaned over to take hold of his shoulders and locked eyes, her green looking deeply into his brown.
"Not to the jungle. That's where –they live...."
"It's alright Ron. Take a breath." Her voice was calm and compassionate, unconsciously mimicking a memory of her mother calming a child before surgery.
"I know the crutch guy! He does TV specials on them!"
"He only does that sometimes. Not this trip."
"His name even sounds like – Monkey!"
"Hey! Never mind, alright. We don't have to go." Kim rubbed his bicep to comfort him. "No big."
Regaining composure, Ron took let out his breath and repeated, "No big?"
"I know how you feel about – monkeys. I wouldn't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Besides, I couldn't do this without you Ron." Kim meant every word. Her warm smile and caring eyes spoke of true affection. It tore Ron apart.
"Laos has Bueno Nacho right?"
"I owe you a soda."
Best friends shared a long hug.
"What about Mr Barkin?" Ron asked over her shoulder.
"Don't worry. Fiske has already promised to tutor us. We won't miss a thing."
"Tanks."
...
Somewhere, hidden in the Mountains of Akaishi, Japan.
High in the Akaishi Mountains an old man crouched on a rock to greet the rising sun. The light of the early morning lifted the cloak of night from the mountain tops and slowly illuminated the valleys. The air was still and fresh. His deep, controlled, breathes turned to vapour as he released them. Here it was the Sensei of the Yamanouchi meditated every dawn on a rock near the summit of the mountain. Bathing in the warmth of a new day several minutes before his school did.
A senior apprentice of his school traversed the dirt path to bring her Sensei a tray of herbal tea. Such was her balance and pose she did not spill a drop, nor did she allow her cream training keikogi robe be sullied by a speck of dirt. She stood at a respectful distance behind the right hand of her master, silently waiting to be acknowledged.
Sensei continued his meditations for a time. Releasing a calming breath he extended a hand and waved his apprentice forward. She obediently came to his side, placing the tray down on smooth rock and, sat on her calves and gently poured the hot drink from the insulated tea pot. Sensei took the cup with a quiet word of thanks as she stepped back again. Sensei welcomed the warm beverage coupled with clear skies, small comforts which brought peace to an old heart.
The peace was not to last.
As he savoured the aroma of the beverage a slight breeze tossed his white beard and hair. The breeze carried with it a warning. Sensei heard the whispers of the mountain and lowered the tea cup. Behind him the apprentice's honed senses and instincts warned her to the vague aura of alarm from her master. She was alert for instruction.
"They are coming."
The apprentice dropped the tray and ran back to the school, all efforts at keeping her Kimono spotless forgotten.
...
A dozen Blackhawk helicopters threaded there way through the mountain ranges. Heavily armed men in black and purple uniforms eagerly awaited deployment. They psyched each other up; made bets on who would have the bigger 'count' and promised to be sitting round a card table before the hour was done. They were elite. They were ruthless. They enjoyed their work. Jokes were made about how this would be their first day at school for some. An apple for the teacher.
In their wake flew a larger twin-rotor Chinook transport. On the side it was marked W.E.
...
Past enemies had taught them caution. Long the Yamanouchi had remained hidden from the world. But enemies can learn too. Nothing could hide from World Empire forever. Were many have failed in the past, W.E., guided by a representative of their mysterious employer, succeeded.
Imperial troops cared nothing for beautifully crafted shrines, gardens painstakingly cared for or centuries old temples. Three of the Blackhawks, outfitted as gunships, turned in unison to make a pass over the courtyard. Chain-gun rounds rained from the sky. Rockets thundered. Nothing was spared. If a shrub even rustled it was targeted and eradicated. In their wake came the transports, looping around above exploded trees and burning dojos. Each hovered above a select point of the compound allowing commandos to rope down. Snipers deployed on rooftops. Troops landed beyond the outer wall to entrap anyone left inside the school. Black boots set foot on rock and defensive bursts were fired into any emplacement which may conceal an ambush party.
They were correct not to expect to be landing unopposed.
Below one craft a boulder transformed into a man wearing a rugged grey shell. He launched a great chain into blades of the flying machine. The opposite end he had affixed to a real boulder. The chain wrapped around the rotors. The resulting pull ripped the craft from the sky. W.E vengeance came swift. 40 square metres were slag before the gunship crew were satisfied.
A second Blackhawk fell from the sky when an apprentice employed more conventional anti-aircraft weaponry. Ninja are not ignorant of the evolving methods of war and invented most long before. Utilising one of the schools few modern weapons an apprentice shot out a tail rotor with a rocket.
...
Yamanouchi was designed to be as complex and resourceful as the ninja it trained. Her exterior gave the appearance of a Buddhist monastery, a picture of tranquillity. Beneath the surface the school kept the secrets of her founders and those who followed. Catacombs excavated from mountain stone existed underneath like a secret middle ages labyrinth. They were not deep. These ceilings would not hold up to continued bombardment by W.E. A moments respite was all they promised.
The apprentice whom had delivered Sensei tea and raised the alarm had exchanged her cream training keikogi for black and tea for a sword. She entered the council chambers where Sensei waited. It was a largely disused space of the school as there had not been a 'shadow council' for centuries. Still the stone table and seats were in place. The roughly hewn, 'Fred Flintstone' designed furnishing were too heavy to remove.
Sensei stood under the Yamanouchi crest at the far end of the hall. Only his shrewd eyes were illuminated by the candlelight. Yori approached him with her head lowed in reverence. In her hands she held a precious case. Dropping to her knees, she presented him with the Lotus blade.
Sensei opened the case and removed the sheathed blade. Without warning he presented it back to apprentice.
"You must keep the blade a while longer, Yori-san."
A jolt rushed through Yori. She was to keep the Lotus Blade?San was an honorific denoting an equal or superior. For the master of the ninja school to address her such….
"Our school is lost. Our mission remains. The time to fulfil oaths hath come."
A new explosion rocked the temple foundations. More than dust stirred in the cavern. In the dimly lit room a child awake. Her young lungs carried her cries over the sounds of battle.
...
Yamanouchi marksmen, utilising bow and rifle, hid themselves among rocky outcroppings surrounding their school. Vulnerable Blackhawk gunners and rooftop snipers expecting fire from inside the compound were felled by implacable accuracy. At what time an avenging gunship pounced marksman would fade into the rock and brush, skirting the mountainside along camouflaged trails dug by ancestors.
These small victories were not enough to fend off the invaders. W.E. cared neither for lives lost nor the cost of ammunition. Once troops debarked the transport choppers joined in suppression efforts. Overwhelming firepower kept the defending ninja at bay as assault troops secured a courtyard landing zone.
The larger helicopter dropped fast. The pilot, wary of another costly rocket attack, strained the landing wheels with his heavy touchdown. More W.E. troops charged from the rear hatch before the craft stopped bouncing. Evacuating the craft in a more casual manner were the leaders of the operation.
Junior basked in the warmth of the burning mountainside, inhaling a calming breathe of Napalm in the morning.
W.E. Operative Delta, formerly know as Global Justice Agent William Du. Sent by Gemini to keep an eye on new 'friends'.
Their guide. A member of the organisation which purchased W.E favour. He wore the trappings of ninja, black robes with his face hidden. None could mistake this creature, however. He stood as tall as a street sign-post. Wide as a car. Round as a medicine ball. It was hard to imagine him being capable of stealth or guile but he was, for lack of a more apt description, a 'Sumo-ninja'.
"Bring me the weapon," Junior demanded. Regarding his large companion he added, "Amuse yourself. Eat a ninja."
Thunder echoed through the mountains – Sumo-ninja's deep laugh. He unfastened nunchaku from his belt sash and stormed off to create mayhem.
"I like him better when not in a confined spaces," Junior commented to Delta.
Sumo-ninja approached a shattered statue shrine opposite the temple in the courtyard. The figurine lay in pieces, powerful guns cutting it in half. Sumo-ninja tore the foundation, which only the figurines boots still attached, clean out of the ground. The steel door he uncovered only presented marginally increased resistance.
Several W.E troops exited the temple with a prisoner in chains. Despite appearing ragged and groggy their weapons were trained on him at all times. Schoolmaster Sensei was brought before Junior and Operative Delta. The group Captain commanded him to kneel. Sensei did so in a meditative fashion, crossing his legs presenting his palms open face. Clearing his head.
"Were there not, like - thirty more of you?" Junior asked the Captain. The soldier scowled and jerked his head at the old man.
"How'd you take him down?" Du asked.
"Sent half my men and threw gas in after them."
"Jesus! Take some men to collect survivors before that thing collapses!"
"No fucking way." The Captain's gun-sight never waved from the old man's head.
Junior restrained Delta before he took issue with the officer's insubordination.
"Good thinking, Captain," he offered.
Courtyard stone pavers heaved and fell through the earth. The Sumo-ninja climbed out of his newly formed hole carrying a Yamanouchi apprentice by the throat. The young warrior was badly battered. Sumo said simply, "It is not here."
"Where's the weapon?" Delta demanded.
"In your heart you have neither compassion nor remorse. You believe you are free of their constraints." Sensei regarded Junior. "Your new master is pleased."
Not the retort Junior anticipated. He was amused. "Oh, I don't work for W.E. This was – sort of a 'job vacation'. A life experience programme…."
"It is not Gemini to whom you will bow."
"Bow? You think I'm going to bow now?"
"If you wish to be spared. Be grateful Junior. You amuse him. It is an offer he will not extend to others."
Now Sensei regarded Delta.
The old man was not mocking. Junior and Delta were convinced of the conviction with which he spoke. Conviction his words would come to pass. Sumo-ninja did not react in the slightest, even to his captive still struggling to escape his vice grasp.
"I want him," Delta said angrily, "in a W.E interrogation cell. Teach him horrors his 'master' never did."
"Don't bother."
Sensei and Junior locked eyes.
"Death is natural part of life, and a well earned rest for a tired contented old man. You may kill me, but the weapon you will never have."
"Well you're right about one thing, old man." Junior motioned for a weapon. The Captain handed over his sidearm.
A shot echoed throughout the mountain range.
...
The child cried, disturbed by the of gun-fire echo. Yori shared the young one's alarm and clutched the baby girl tighter to her chest. They both knew it. Sensei was gone.
She felt heavy. Gravity pulled on her shoulders intensely without Sensei to uplift her. Her throat was so, so dry. Her eyes were not, although her intense focus restricted tears to a handful.
Honour the last words of Sensei. It was the only path left to her.
He slung the Lotus Blade over her shoulder and placed the upset child in her arms. Little child halted her screaming but the comfort of Yori's arms but did not stop her crying. "Go now Yori-san. Protect the weapon. Complete our mission. I will hold our enemy's attention." Sensei secreted them both through a passage in the council room. Through the candlelight tunnels Yori emerged. A trial down the mountain lay before her.
She held the Lotus Blade. She held the legacy of Yamanouchi and the oaths to be fulfilled. Her childhood home burned behind her. The future was cradled in her arms. On her honour she would complete her mission.
...
"We needed him!"
Junior shrugged. "He wasn't going to talk. I saved us hours of wasted effort."
Sumo-ninja dropped his captive and returned to the chopper, indifferent to the fact the ninja still breathed. These pests did not matter.
Junior wished to depart immediately also. Too bad Operative Delta wouldn't get out of his way."
"You half-witted thug! You spent dozens of lives taking this place only to lose the sword and shoot our key prisoner! I can see why your father palmed you off to the competition. You have no idea how you disappoint him…."
A half-witted thug with a temper and a lightning fast reaction time. A half witted thug with a gun barrel pressed to Delta's left eye. Delta stumbled.
"My father. Is not here right now. Is he?
Du nodded. Junior wanted to see both his eyes so he lowered the gun to chest height.
"This is my operation."
To the Captain, "Leave him here. Let the remaining ninja a pound of flesh."