Training Room: Chapter two

I.

The moist crack of breaking bone echoed off the alley walls as I fell to my back. "Just finish it!" I screamed at the darkness, "For God's sake, just finish it."

"Oh, no." The soft, kind voice whispered from the shadows. "That wouldn't be the right lesson at all."

II.

He was rapidly becoming my obsession. I could find nothing that explained him. Not the weeks of films from the 'Ron factor' fiasco. Not the personal files. Not even Possible's purloined diary. According to all the data, he was just a bumbler; a fool who sometimes fell into the right place.

I know different. I know he is something more, something dangerous. And no matter what it takes or costs, I am going to find out what he is.

III.

Dr. Director sometimes brainstormed with me. Bouncing ideas, tasting scenarios, just letting her mind float. Today's discussion was the amateur. Whether she had a future with Global Justice or not. The sidekick did not factor into the final call. This was for Possible alone. To see if she was good enough.

"All right, I would normally send you, but this should be fairly easy. We will provide her with all necessary information and equipment. She will be informed that all of our agents are currently occupied..."

"Is that really needed." She quirked an eyebrow in question. "Possible has rarely, if ever, asked why we call on her instead of using our own people. Whether it is arrogance or contempt for GJ, unnecessary explanations will only make her suspicious."

She steepled her fingers, tapping them together. "Good point. We'll contact her through Load, usual procedure, nothing different. Last, are we sure this guy is as incompetent as we think?"

"I'm certain. Ma'am, he tried to take over the world by placing laxatives in a bubble gum that was due to be discontinued."

For a moment I thought she was going to laugh, but only a twitch of her lip betrayed her.

"All right, issue the orders. I want full surveillance on this. Everything is to be recorded. I need to see how she handles herself without Stoppable for moral support."

She turned away, dismissing me, her mind already on other projects.

"I'll see to it, Dr. Director." I left the room to begin my test.

IV.

"How did this happen." Dr. Director's voice and eyes were cold. "You informed me the man was incompetent."

I stood at rigid attention. My eyes on the wall ten inched above her head. "Ma'am, unknown to us, he had recently formed a partnership."

"Yes, with a psychopath who hates Kim Possible. You didn't think that might be relevant?"

"Ma'am, we were informed she was a sometime girl friend, that's all. The ID and picture did not..."

"Did you think of trying to get a sample of DNA for positive ID?"

"Ma'am, she was just another ditzy blonde. I didn't think the extra expense and time were warranted."

"You didn't think?" Her tone was lethal. "You certainly did not think. An escaped lunatic, who had already shown homicidal tendencies, who blamed Possible for the loss of her career, the loss of her life, and the loss of her future. You did not think that was important?"

"Ma'am, as I said, I had no indication that..."

"Silence. You are on suspension for one month. When you return, I will decide whether further action is necessary. In the meantime, I have to decide what to tell her parents, and how to explain to Stoppable how we let things get so out of hand."

"Ma'am, I..."

"I said silence! The only good thing about this whole screw up is that she isn't dead." She turned away from me. "Keep me informed of your location and intentions, agent. Otherwise report back in thirty days."

"Ma'am, I..."

"You are dismissed, Mister."

With no other choice, I did a parade perfect about face, I shut the door gently behind me. I would allow none of the gawkers to see me upset. That would wait until I could confront Stoppable. This was his fault. Somehow, someway, this was his fault.

V.

With very little to spend it on, my considerable salary had been banked. While I am not, by any means, wealthy, I am able to afford to rent this apartment/dojo without straining my funds. The Realtor explained that the owner was only gone for six weeks, and I would have to move then. That suited me perfectly.

Without GJ's extensive network, I had been reduced to doing research at the local University. With one short night time trip to peruse Stoppable's school records. Surprisingly, the school records had led me to the one item not mentioned in his file. A two week 'transfer' to a school in Japan. Although it seemed innocent enough, there was something about that incident. I knew I was on to something, when I could not access anything about the school, either in the University stacks or on the web. Only an old legend. Some nonsense about a magic sword and a guardian. But I know there is something there.

I was half way through my daily workout, when the light's went out. Leaving the dojo only brightened by the moon shining through the roof windows. I immediately adopted a fighting stance, ready to attack or defend. After all, I am a top agent.

V.

"Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

"What?" I know he is trying to unnerve me. It won't work.

"I always wanted to say that. This seems like an appropriate time and setting." The voice came from everywhere and no where.

"Show yourself." If I could see him, I could take him.

A black clad figure emerged from the shadows. I immediately went for a disabling strike. He somehow dodged my surprise attack.

"All right, let's dance." I could hear cold laughter in his voice. I was amusing him! Well, good, if he was overconfident, so much the better. I did not become a top agent playing patty cake.

VI.

"Just finish it! For God's sake, just finish it!"

I couldn't help myself. For over an hour he had toyed with me. Sometimes letting me think my strikes would work, sometimes stumbling or falling. Then he said, gently, "The dance is over, let the lesson begin."

And the pain began.

Every blow I sent at him was met by a light touch that felt like my nerves were frying. The knife I grabbed was taken away and broken. When he broke my elbow, I ran. Stumbling and falling, my nerves on fire with agony, I ran. He let me.

From the shadows, he followed me. At irregular intervals he would touch me, as if to guide me, each touch breaking something. A finger, a shoulder, nothing that would keep me from running. Running to this alley. Now my legs are snapped, my arms like twigs. Out of the darkness he spoke once more. "So ends the lesson."

He leaned over me, "If it happens again, tell Betty she becomes the student."

VII.

I must have passed out, or maybe he knocked me out. All I know is that I woke up in the GJ infirmary, immobilized by the flypaper of casts, wires and tubes. Someone had activated my emergency beacon. Someone.

I know it was Stoppable, I know it. But who will believe me. I saw the security video of him falling on his face, crying, as he went to Possible's wheelchair. I heard the faint sneers of some of the agents. "What a man. He should be out looking for the ones who did it, not crying on her shoulder."

The agents are frustrated. They have been unable to develop any leads on Possible's assailants. One even said that he was beginning to think they had dug a hole and crawled in. I fear he was more right than he knew. A hole can also be a grave.