A/N: Aaaand here's chapter thirteen! Worked for quite awhile on this one, seems like it was buried under a mountain of writer's block! As always, many thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for beta-reading this.
Disclaimer: Kim Possible and affiliated licenses do not, nor will they ever (most likely) belong to me. They are the property of Disney, and I'm simply borrowing them for my own use, and for your entertainment.
Dedicated to my readers and reviewers!
The Strange Life After
Chapter 13: Capture
Henry Gough, known to the greater public as 'Hego', fancied himself a bright man. He was the self-proclaimed Field Leader of Team Go, a master strategist, (at least if you asked him), a legend in his own mind. But despite his years of experience as one of the world's only true, 'Superheroes', he could not for the life of him figure out why his arch-nemesis, Aviarius, would be making his current proclamation.
"Let me get this straight," Hego said, not quite believing what he was hearing. "You want to report a crime?"
Aviarius nodded enthusiastically on the other end of the call.
"Doesn't that kind of, I don't know, fly in the face—" Wego One interjected.
"—of everything you stand for?" Wego Two finished.
"They do have a point," Mego added, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Isn't there like a rule against this kind of thing in the villain play-book?"
"Well it's not as if I want to rely on YOUR help!" Aviarius replied, exasperated. "But whoever did this has access to my nest, AND they now have my power-scepter, which means it's not safe for me here! And…" He trailed off, face flushing in embarrassment. "You have better access to resources as heroes than I do," he finished, voice low with wounded pride.
"What exactly are you reporting?" Hego said, standing now at rapt attention, apparently having missed part of the given information.
Mego, meanwhile, went from only half-paying attention, to fully paying attention at the first sound of his brother's self-proclaimed 'justice voice'.
"C'mon, Hego. You CAN'T be serious!" Mego said; slamming his hands down on the table in a show of defiance. "Did it ever occur to you that some of us might have better things to do with our time?"
"Let me guess…Cleaning your mirrors again?" Wego One said, sniggering.
"Or maybe pressing your costume for the fiftieth time this month?" Wego Two added.
"Guys!" Hego interrupted, rubbing his temples in frustration. "We and Aviarius may have our differences, but it's still our responsibility, as heroes…"
He paused for dramatic effect, causing twins to break out in muted laughter, and Mego to put a palm to his face in frustration.
"Oh, here we go…" Mego mumbled in resignation.
"To root out crime, wherever it may be found!" Hego finished, flashing his best charismatic grin. He turned back to the screen to address the arch-foe. "I know we may have our battles, and the next time you try to claim this great city for your own, we will stop you!"
Hego made a fist and slammed it down emphatically into the opposite palm.
"But on this day…"
By now, the laughter of the Wegos had reached levels of full-blown hysterics as they watched their brother ham up his essential 'heroic-ness', causing him to round on them with a glare during this next dramatic pause. The Wegos tried instantly to appear composed and professional, pointing nonchalantly at Mego as if to say 'he did it!' Their shortness of breath gave them away, however, and Hego just shook his head slightly in resignation, before turning back to the screen.
"On this day, we will work towards the common good…together!" Hego finished, mounting his chair with one leg, the perfect unconscious Captain Morgan-imitator. "We will fight as one, to track down the perpetrator of this heinous act…" He stopped short, looking up at Aviarius for a moment. "What 'heinous act' have you fallen victim to, again?"
Aviarius sighed in defeat, reminding himself that he knew what he was getting into when he made this call.
"My lair was broken into and my power-scepter was stolen…" He grumbled.
"Right…" said the leader, processing this information, before switching to his full-volume, 'hero voice' again. "As I was saying, we will track down the perpetrator of this heinous act, and bring him…" He made a grand sweeping gesture with his right hand, before bringing it close to his face, fist primed and glowing. "…to justice!" He savored the final word as if it were a delicious morsel.
"Whatever…" was the reply, sulking in the knowledge that he would never live this decision down. 'Too late to back out now' Aviarius thought grimly, grinding his teeth together tightly. 'Now that he knows about it, Hego won't rest until the scepter is found and if he finds it without my being there… Well, I just don't need him to find it without my being there.'
"So," Hego started, turning around and placing his hands on the table, his classic 'planning pose'. "Anyone have any ideas how to start?"
Mego stood up, causing Aviarius, Hego, and the Wegos to simultaneously raise eyebrows in disbelief. Rare was the day when Mego would offer contributions to any plan that didn't involve his own direct benefit.
"How about," Mego said, seemingly sincere. "We forget about some people's—"he shot Hego a glare, "'Chronic Hero' Syndrome and just do what we always do?"
"You mean, lounge around the tower—"
"—doing nothing for weeks at a time?" the twins offered. Their palpable sarcasm striking far closer to the tone of the team's missing member than any of the brothers would care to admit.
Mego raised his index finger in protest and opened his mouth to speak, but after five seconds of holding this pose, he collapsed back into his chair, resigned to lose this argument.
"That's the spirit!" Hego said with a grin. "Everyone's onboard. So, where should we begin?"
Once again, Shego was under the distinct impression that she was being had. To what end she had no clue. However, her pride wouldn't let her back down from a job, or from a challenge. What's more, nothing had come of the previous apparent 'set-up' (although, come to think of it, it had been odd that no one arrived to claim that microchip yet…)
With a heavy degree of caution, Shego and Ron approached the warehouse where the stolen art supposedly resided.
The first thing the pair noticed was that the warehouse was deathly silent. An atmosphere of menace hung in the air, swallowing up the echoing sounds of their footsteps in the dark room.
"Well," Ron started, desperate to break the intense silence that had dogged them since the start of the mission, and seemed multiplied exponentially in the new environment of foreboding. "I guess we just fumble around in the dark until we find a light switch?"
"Hmmm…"
"I've got a bad feeling about this, Shego…" Ron continued, moving to retrieve his night-vision goggles from his pack. "Not to be rude, but: Does this happen to you a lot? First the microchip job, now this… This seems like a trap. Like, really, REALLY obviously a trap." He cocked his head in his partner's direction when he realized she hadn't moved or responded. "Shego?"
Shego was getting more and more on edge with every passing second. In retrospect, perhaps she should have asked for more information on the job at hand before blindly rushing off. 'This is all Ron's fault… Damn these emotions!' She thought, shooting a withering glare towards the cause of her internal conflict, who had only just concluded his incessant babbling that she had worked so hard to tune out. Not that he could see it, mind you, in the pitch dark of the increasingly ominous—and, she was just beginning to notice with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, empty—warehouse. 'I've never let myself get so distracted before… When this is over, I'm gonna kill him. Where does he get off, having this kind of an effect on me? And more importantly, since when have I had a problem keeping work and play separate?'
She was startled from her self-loathing session by the telltale high-pitched humming noise now being given off by Ron's newly-activated night vision goggles. Once again, she kicked herself internally. 'Doy! Head in the game, Shego. You can kick the kid's ass later. Right now there's work to do.' Putting her guard up in preparation for the worst (why, oh why had she dropped it in the first place?), she followed Ron's lead, only to have her worst fears confirmed.
The warehouse was indeed empty, apart from the art piece they had been sent to retrieve sitting in the middle of the room.
"Oh, cooooome on!" Ron shouted to the empty building. "You're not even trying to hide the fact that this is a set-up anymore!"
The duo stalked over to the object, which was essentially just three metal poles twisted around each other at odd angles, hardly anything spectacular. Shego fought the urge to make a caustic remark about the so-called 'art-piece', knowing the situation was too edgy for sarcasm.
'Honestly, the things some people steal… Why anyone would bother with this piece of crap is beyond me.' Shego couldn't help but shake her head slightly in amusement, despite the chill of the warehouse's atmosphere. She would never understand art.
The pair quickly searched the area around the art-piece for any signs of a trap, finding none. Hesitant as they both were to actually touch the object, Shego finally reached out a cautious hand to touch it, finding only the expected cold feeling of metal.
*CRACK*
Shego whipped her head around just in time to see her partner fall unconscious, an unknown assailant pulling back a strong, glowing-blue hand with a practiced finesse. She shifted into a battle-ready stance immediately, all other thoughts forgotten.
"If you're looking for a trap there," the obviously male voice said, "then you're looking in quite the wrong place."
After a moment, Shego placed the offender's voice as the same one that had made the call. Just as recognition dawned on her face, the assailant seemed to read her mind.
"You always were rather mercenary…"
She couldn't see, given the darkness, so much as feel the man's sickly smirk.
"You really should learn to ask more questions before taking a job, Shego."
Shego carefully measured her options, trying to be subtle about it. 'He was able to knock out Ron in one blow, and despite his rustiness, Ron has that weird mystical mumbo-jumbo working for him. So this guy is either really skilled, or really strong.' Shego once again got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as, watching the way their attacker carried himself, she realized that it was probably both.
"You know who I am," she began, measuring her response carefully. "And you know what I do. So you have got to realize what a mistake you're making, here." She put on her best commanding aura, consisting of a smirk, a ready-to-pounce stance, and extra plasma just for good measure. "I'll say this once… Let my partner and me walk out of here, and I won't make you look like the underside of a charcoal-grill."
Before Shego had finished her last sentence, the man was already laughing, long and loud. It wasn't quite the harsh sound that she had expected, which just made it even more unnerving.
"Come on, Shego… Did you really think I'd make it that easy?" Her opponent said, flashing a toothy grin through his ski-mask, illuminated in ghastly green by her own fire.
"No." Shego admitted, straightening up slightly and giving a shrug. "But what can I say… Gal's gotta try."
"Admirable, Shego…" The man said, trailing off as he stalked towards her slowly. "…but mistaken." So saying, he reached slowly and deliberately into his pocket, drawing out a gem which Shego was sure she recognized. 'Is that…?'
"Oh, no" she said dully, as the gem flashed a telltale green, while in the same instant, her hands were no longer aflame.
"That's right, Shego…" Her assailant said, voice curling around her name in a way that made her nauseous. "You have nothing to threaten me with, without…" He tapped the gem in an almost playful manner before continuing "…this."
Already, Shego was watching his movements with a predatory eye. This man had powers of his own, that much was certain, as she remembered the blue glow she had seen as Ron was incapacitated. She had never fought in a one-way super-powered fight before on the non-powered side; she could only hope her years of experience would give her an edge.
Even as she contemplated this, though, she knew it was a false hope. Her attacker clearly had years of experience in his own right, judging by the way that every movement was measured precisely for maximum intimidation. He seemed to be expertly choreographed, as if he were playing a role in some grand theatrical production only he was privy to. His muscles contracted visibly with every movement, giving him an air of one much bigger than he actually was. He practically rippled with power and command, and Shego made a tactical decision in this instance that she had rarely made before, and one she would ultimately regret.
She had to run.
By now the unknown assailant had closed the distance considerably and was a mere two or three feet from her as she contemplated her escape.
She feinted left, and as her attacker moved to stop her, opening his legs to brace himself for the punch he would no doubt throw, she slid between them. Springing up when her momentum would carry her no farther, she sprinted towards Ron.
'Oh, we are SO having a talk about what it means to stay on guard!' Shego thought humorlessly as she grabbed Ron roughly by his collar.
*CRACK*
Her skull exploded with pain as the noise she had heard when Ron was incapacitated made a repeat appearance. She fought the urge to pass out, and instead stood shakily to her feet, thankful that had taken enough hard blows over the years to raise her pain tolerance to such an inhuman level. She only half-heard her opponent's slow clap as she tried to get her bearings.
"Very impressive, Shego," he said, a genuine smile playing on his lips, teeth slightly glinting as they caught the moonlight through the distant windows. "Usually when I hit someone with that little chop they knock right out. You're the first person who's ever managed to stay conscious, and for that, I congratulate you!"
Shego quickly threw a punch with a show of effort, and was unsurprised when it was blocked effortlessly, being another fake-out. In the same moment her fist was caught, she thrust her opposite leg upward with as much force as she possessed.
The blow connected perfectly with the man's jaw, and was strong enough to send her attacker flying backwards by a few precious feet. Realizing he was too fast for her to flee, especially now was weakened from the head trauma; Shego resolved to keep up the fight as long as possible, in the desperate hope that Ron may wake up and tip the battle in their favor. A pipe dream, sure, but what were her alternatives?
The man slowly rose back to his feet, hand kneading his jaw in a gesture that somehow looked dangerous.
"Ooooh, THAT was a good ONE!" The cadence of the man's speech had changed dramatically, no longer using measured, deliberate pauses. Gone was his previous composure, instead replaced by odd fluctuations in volume. "But that won't SAVE YOU!" He snarled, his eyes flashing a brilliant shade of blue.
'Wait, blue? Where have I—'
And immediately, he was upon her again, raining blows down over her head with a speed and ferocity she couldn't have matched even without being injured. Time seemed to slow as she saw the blood blotting out of her mouth at alarming rates, and then what seemed like an eternity (actually 10 seconds later); she finally collapsed and blacked out, a broken woman.
"Global Justice, Super Criminals Division." The no-nonsense voice picked up immediately, forgoing any rings.
"Hello there," Xander replied, rubbing his jaw absent-mindedly. "I am calling to report that I have captured two criminals wanted for the theft of the Mendel Microchip, stolen a few days ago."
A pause.
"You do know that to prank-call this line is an international offense, punishable by impris—"
"Yes, I am aware!" Xander snapped, losing patience at a far quicker rate than he would have liked. "And if I were some lowly prank-caller, I might be concerned."
He waited to hear the response, if any. Satisfied that he could continue, he put on a tone that brooked no argument.
"As it stands, I am deadly serious. I have in my possession the Super Criminal known as Shego and her accomplice, Ronald Stoppable."
He practically spat out the latter name, hoping that that fact would go unnoticed by the voice on the other end of the call. A voice that, he now noticed as belonging to the acrimonious 'Top Agent' Will Du.
"I can give you their location now, or I can have them delivered to you. Either way, it's of no concern to me. What is of concern to me is that they be in custody as soon as possible."
"I will have them picked up as soon as you have given me the location, Mister…?"
"THAT, my dear lad, is of no concern to you." Xander replied, wishing he could convey his scowl through a phone line.
"I'm afraid I must insist, sir. Its policy, Global Justice is a massive international organization, we cannot, and do not, accept anonymous tips."
"You'd think that you would be a little bit more accommodating considering I just did your job for you…" Xander answered, beginning to grit his teeth before realizing that it hurt his jaw to do so. "Very well, then. It's Xander. Aaron Xander. The fugitives will be located in Go City, at two-one-one thirty-second street, on the roof of the old warehouse there. I will wait here to deliver them to you, if you wish."
"That would be best."
Xander couldn't quite restrain his chuckle.
"Excellent. When should I expect you?"
"Within the hour, sir. I've already dispatched a recovery team to your location."
"Very good," the villain said, preparing to hang up, before adding, as an afterthought:
"Tell me, Du, since when do you answer the phones?"
Before he could hear the reply, no doubt one of indignation, he had hung up.
Xander sighed, continuing to massage his jaw. Waiting for GJ with his prey had not been part of the plan, but as always, he would adapt. He admitted, in hindsight, he hadn't really thought this part through.
It had been a spur of the moment idea to capture Stoppable and Shego himself. His plan had originally been to stage the theft of the modern art-piece he had stolen as being 'in-progress' and to tip Global Justice off to the duo's location at the warehouse. He had even considered calling regular law enforcement, since calling them directly would no doubt make GJ suspicious. He rationalized his choice, as he always did: After all, the duo did qualify as 'Super Criminals', in light of their 'theft'. Who better to call than the international organization's Super Criminals Division?
And anyway, he couldn't risk the pair waking up in custody of a regular police station. There was no telling what Shego might do, and as evil as he may have been, innocent officers didn't need to be put at risk of a powerless, desperate Shego. And, if he was honest with himself, he was slightly worried that the more 'rights-conscious' local police might be willing to hear the duo out when they claimed a frame-up, and his plan didn't allow for that either.
As Xander sat outside the warehouse he chosen for this staging ground, waiting for Stoppable and Shego to arrive, he had reflected on all of this, and more, and had ultimately decided it would be more fun to capture them himself. It had been too long since he had seen any action, after all. And, as the old adage, 'if you want something right, then do it yourself.'
Now he was paying for this cavalier attitude with an aching jaw and a bruised ego. The woman's kick had made him angry, truly angry, for the first time in years. And he had lost control, something he wasn't proud of. He hadn't intended to do any lasting damage beyond his re-possession of her powers.
Xander fondled the jewel in his pocket at the thought of Shego's plasma. He had removed the jewel from its scepter almost immediately, being that the scepter wasn't exactly 'conceal-and-carry' material. Stealing it had been almost an afterthought, the previous night when he had been sitting alone going over worst-case scenarios. One of those scenarios was Shego using her powers to break out of custody, however difficult and unlikely that would be. So he had stolen the scepter from that joke, Aviarius, and robbed the woman of her powers. Taking away the security blanket that she had possessed since a teenager, if not younger, was just another bonus. Shego wasn't his primary target, sure, but damn if it hadn't felt good to see her squirm.
As he sat down Indian-style on the roof, Xander pondered on the final stages of his plan. Could allowing GJ to see him pose a problem? No, he wouldn't have even considered waiting for them if it would. His current alias had no criminal charges associated with it, after all. The only person to recognize him by his face so far had been Lipsky, and the irony in that was so humorous that he couldn't suppress a wry smirk. Regardless, the Doctor was too stupid to make the full connection, which he wouldn't draw without more information. Information he wouldn't be receiving.
Xander rubbed his jaw again and smiled to himself, a sickening, toothy expression.
Yes, it seemed everything was going more-or-less as planned.
Ron awoke in what appeared to be some sort of infirmary. He didn't remember what had happened, his last recollection being when he had checked the art-piece for booby-traps with—
'Shego!'
His mind instantly flooded with concern for the older woman, and he sat up quickly. This action caused him a painful awareness of some pain in the back of his skull that he hadn't had before.
"I'd slow down if I were you, Stoppable."
Ron looked around madly before his eyes rested on the source of the voice.
"Dr. Director?" He asked, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.
The stoic, eye-patched figure nodded in response.
"Okay, so I'm at Global Justice… Why?" Ron asked, genuinely baffled.
Dr. Betty Director shook her head slightly, before striding confidently over to his medical table.
"You don't know what you've been doing… Figured as much" Dr. Director said dismissively.
Ron was momentarily affronted by the bluntness of her statement, but decided not to dwell on her tone and instead retrieve information.
"So…" he began, gently caressing the painful area in the back of his skull, noting once again the rough, hot-to-the-touch scarring on his neck a mere inch below the currently afflicted area. "What exactly have I been 'doing'?"
"Whether you realize it or not, Stoppable, you and your new employer—" she drew that word out in a half-sarcastic, half-questioning tone—"stole a very valuable microchip a few days ago." She paused thoughtfully, before adding: "Emphasis on 'stole'."
Floored, Ron paled as he processed this new information.
"Wha—what?" He finally asked, flabbergasted.
"I'm afraid it looks like Shego has been manipulating you for her own ends…" Dr. Director said flatly. "But don't worry," she continued, watching with mild amusement as Ron's mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish. "I was already prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, in light of your perfect record, and all you've done for this organization. Which is why you're recovering in our Officers' Infirmary instead of the one used for prisoners. Since it seems obvious to me that you had no idea this was going on, it looks like I was right to do so."
By now Ron had digested enough information to trust his powers of speech fully again.
"Where is Shego, then? I was with her, last I knew. Was I brought in alone?"
Dr. Director smiled warmly, in spite of herself. 'He gets manipulated by the woman and his first concern is still her safety. You are truly a rare soul, Stoppable.'
"She's recovering from severe head trauma in that Prisoners' Infirmary I mentioned. Seems you both apprehended by some spectacular idiot who thought engaging the two of you, one-on-one, was a good idea."
If Dr. Director hadn't had Ron's undivided attention already, she certainly had it with that final statement.
"Who 'apprehended' us?" Ron narrowed his eyes, using air-quotes liberally to convey his distaste.
"That's the strange thing," Dr. Director replied, "It was just some random bystander. We looked into him. No known criminal charges, or combat experience. In fact, up until a year ago, there are no records of him anywhere. It's like he's a ghost. I've got people trailing him now for more information about him, but he seems relatively harmless from what I've gathered so far."
"Wait, no records until last —?"
She waved her hand dismissively. "Probably just some schmuck who's running from his past, like so many people in Go City are. He probably recognized Shego, thought there was a reward involved and got really, really lucky." She frowned at him then, a new thought occurring to her. "You don't remember? I had assumed you fought with him, considering the bruise we saw on his jaw. It didn't look plasma-infused, so we had assumed he took Shego out first."
Ron shook his head violently, causing him to remember the pain present there and his vision to momentarily cloud.
"No, he must've gotten the drop on me. Last thing I remember is helping Shego check for traps on the object we were sent to, uh, 'retrieve'" he paused awkwardly then, hoping that didn't sound too incriminating. "I vaguely remember a loud crunch… Doesn't take a genius to guess I got hit in the head…" He trailed off, remembering the odd, familiar feeling of being set-up that both he and Shego had. This, in turn, led him to remember the odd circumstances of his first job with her, as well.
Ron snapped his fingers, and then looked Dr. Director in the eye.
"I think we were framed!"
Dr. Director sighed in response.
"I'm sure you would like to believe that, Ronald, but—"
"No-no-no-no-no!" Ron interjected quickly. "Hear me out: The first job I went on with Shego, the one to retrieve the microchip? It was WAY too easy. There was lackluster security, a couple of sentry turrets in the ceiling—which were also ridiculously easy to take out, by the way—the whole thing screamed 'Set-up!' We never bothered to follow up on it because no one ever came after us about it…" He trailed off, wondering if it was entirely prudent to mention the other reason he and Shego had put the incident largely out of their minds; namely, their burgeoning relationship.
Dr. Director looked pensive for a moment. It would be easy to simply write-off Stoppable's claims and keep the green-skinned villainess locked up indefinitely for violating the terms of the pardon that (in Betty's personal opinion) she hadn't really deserved.
Unfortunately for her pride, she felt a grain of truth in Stoppable's story, and if she was honest with herself, the entire manner in which the duo had been captured by this 'Xander' fellow had been far too convenient. This in mind, Betty Director made a decision she was sure she would come to regret.
"Alright, Stoppable," she said after a minute, nodding her head authoritatively. "I believe you. And you're right, this situation doesn't quite add up. I'll continue monitoring the tabs on this 'Xander' character, and you can consider both yourself AND Shego—"she gritted her teeth imperceptibly at the statement she was about to make—"guests of Global Justice for the time being, until we get to the bottom of this."
As Dr. Director turned to walk away, Ron called after her.
"Wait!" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "If it's not too much to ask, can I see her?"
A/N: And that concludes this one, folks! Three chapters left. Next chapter we have Ron and Shego having a heart-to-heart, and Ron will make his choice! Meanwhile, Kim has to find a way to get to Ron so she can 'explain' what she perceives to be the situation. DUN DUN DUN.
Also, for these final chapters, I'm gonna be recommending other Rongo stories that I like, on the off chance anyone reading hasn't read them. This chapter, it'll be my number one favorite Rongo of all time: Ron Stoppable, Ultimate Monkey Master by Quis Custodiet (who remains regrettably absent after years, leaving his last story, an equally entertaining RonBon, sadly incomplete. Oh, well).
Until next time, people! R&R, please!