Disclaimer: if it was on TV, it's not mine. Otherwise, yeah, I own it. Soundtrack for this chapter: Living with the Ancients by Blood Ceremony; Barbaro (ma non troppo) by Present; Sieben by In Extremo. Hail to shuffle play.
The VTOL hissed through the night skies, landed just outside Jack Hench's mansion; Shego leaped out, poised for action. According to Dr. D.'s tracking data, Phobos and Deimos were here somewhere. She adjusted her gas-mask and looked cautiously around. The mansion and the grounds were illuminated, at least; no one was going to sneak up on her in the darkness.
Of course, the twins didn't have to sneak up on you. They preferred to use their gas because the results amused them, but they had long-range weapons as well. Boy, did they ever. She grimaced, remembering the pitched battle of the week before. Someone must have masterminded their escape from the supervillain loonybin; they were too deranged to have managed it this quickly themselves. Which meant this was probably a red herring, a decoy. It didn't matter; she could only work with what she had. Get the twins back in their padded cells, and go from there.
The front door had been opened by force, never a good sign. She went in, her nerves taut, her finely tuned senses in overdrive. Servobots and guardbots lay inertly scattered throughout the opulent home; they'd been clever enough to immediately find the main computer and disable it.
She was on the second floor when she heard the familiar, unexpected sound outside. Kim Possible's weird little car thingie, flying in to land beside her jet. Not Possible anymore. She was married to Stoppable now. Had a little girl, she recalled from a Weekly Orb interview. Poor kid had a goofy name; she couldn't remember it, but she remembered that her father had come up with it. That figured.
If she and Dr. D. ever had any kids, he wasn't getting anywhere near their names. She'd make sure of that. Not that it was on the agenda. First she had to clear her name. Her children would have parents they could look up to. Not like her drunken dad and do-nothing mother. Parents the world recognized as heroes.
The Stoppables weren't in the crime-busting business any longer. Hadn't been for over a year. And yet there they were, both of them, wearing gas filters not unlike her own. Kim was talking into her wrist communicator, no doubt with their computer guy, Wade something.
Her husband was looking something up on his cell phone, probably coordinates or other important information. It was very clear that they weren't here on a social call.
Kim looked up; Shego was certain their eyes had met. She dropped the curtain as if it had shocked her. Stood there, her back against the wall, her heart hammering. It wasn't fair. This was her job now. This was her chance to redeem herself. To show the whole world that she was a hero. Like her brothers had been, before the Old Ones' horror claimed them.
Like Kim and Ron Stoppable.
If the Stoppables returned to crimefighting, she'd be nothing more than a footnote.
Drakken's voice, small and tinny, crackled in her mini-earphone: "What's going on? I'm monitoring some wild biochemical responses here."
"Nothing's going on. I'm fine, Dr. D." Why did they have to get involved? Why didn't they stay home and look after their rugrat, like good parents? She could handle this on her own. "Never better."
Her fists were clenched so hard they hurt.
Out in the yard, Kim's eyes narrowed. Had the second floor curtain moved? It was hard to tell in this artificial light. "Wade, are you sure about this? We were here a couple of hours ago and there was nothing." Nothing but humiliation, she thought. It would have served Hench right if we'd left him to the twins.
"You bet. They're in there somewhere. I've got a fix on the frequency of their cybertelepathic implants."
"Shego's here somewhere, too. Her jet's in the front yard."
"That's not a bad thing," Wade replied, cheerily. "Big change from the old days."
Ron was studying something on his phone. "KP, this is awful. Awful, awful, awful. Oh, man, it's bad."
"What is it? Live newsfeed? Is something going down?"
"No, it's this fanfiction site. There's a story on here where you get mindswapped, and I'm deceived by the mindswapper, and you break up with me, except it's not really you, and it's all just –" He was overcome with emotion; a tear glistened in one eye.
She frowned. "This is no time to read that stuff. Focus on the mission!"
He put the phone away, wiped his eyes, blew his nose, composed himself.
They approached the front door with care. Shego was probably inside; if there were any traps, she would have already deactivated them, but it paid to be cautious, regardless. Both the Stoppables were thinking about the Lorwardian invasion; Shego had been an invaluable member of their team.
There had been some very dark events thereafter, but those days were long behind them. Now she was on their side. Someone they could trust.
On the second floor, the emerald harlequin had discovered the control centre of Hench's mansion. The central computer was beyond repair, as she'd expected. Still, there were other things available. Nothing lethal; just something to slow them down.
She was going to bring in the twins. They were her adversaries. Her archfoes. I'm starting to think like Hego, she realized with a jolt. Need to finish this quick and get back to the gazuntite heist. There's money in that.
"Shego," came her husband's voice, somewhat peeved, "what are you doing? Your microcam's off. I can't see where you are."
"Sorry," she said, adjusting the security controls. They'd just been shut off, not smashed. "I must have hit it by accident." She grabbed the mouse, clicked on First Floor. "Give me just a second, here." The single word ARMED glowed on the readout; satisfied, she left the room, turned the cam back on.
What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she thought, not for the first time.
It shouldn't hurt the Stoppables either. Not much, anyway.
She made her way to the next floor. Somewhere up ahead, not far beyond the elevator shaft, she could hear someone groaning.
Kim and Ron had not quite made it to the stairway when the red lights began to flash and the first steel tentacle snaked from the wall to clamp around Kim's ankle. More angry than frightened, she pulled out her laser lipstick and sliced the thing off; two more emerged, grabbed Ron's wrists even as he turned around to help, drawing him tightly to the wall. Two more lashed out to immobilize Kim; a third plucked the laser from her fingers.
Still more clamped around their ankles, wrapped around their waists.
A canned voice rang out: "Congratulations, intruders! You have been immobilized by the Watchdog Electronic Alarm System, Model 7733519. Please do not struggle. The Watchdog Electronic Alarm System is inescapable. Submit and await the authorities. This has been a public service announcement from the Watchdog Electronic Alarm System, which is available every day at your local Super Smarty Mart. Installation fees are extra."
"Here's a public service announcement from the Ronman." He was engulfed in blue light; Kim averted her eyes from its brilliance. "We don't have time for this!" With a mighty flexing of his muscles he broke free, smashed a hole through the wall and yanked out handful after handful of cables, circuits and servomotors. The Watchdog Electronic Alarm System spluttered, whirred and released its grip on its captives, its remaining tentacles dangling limp and powerless.
"That's what you have insurance for," he said, surveying the damage. "Come on, KP, let's go on up."
Upstairs, Shego had managed to free Jack Hench from the wreckage of his entertainment center.
"Deimos knocked the freakin' wall down on me," growled the former president of HenchCo. Bruised and battered, still unsteady on his feet, he leaned against what was left of the wall to support himself. "Had me pinned. When I came to, they got on either side of me and started that stereo thing they do. Man. 'Where's the tank, Jack? Where's the tank, Jack?' Worse than the Chinese Water Torture."
"Yeah, well, where are they?" She heard footsteps coming down the hall at a quick pace. Not the twins; they walked in creepy unison. So much for the delay tactics. "Quick. I really need to know."
"Nice bedside manner, hon." A dark scowl, a knowing smirk. "Lotta interest in the wounded victim."
"They, uh, they must face justice."
Hench heard the footsteps, too. "Don't wanna split the reward, huh? Ever see A Wind-Up Kumquat?"
Enraged, realizing her chance to do this solo was slipping away, she grabbed him by the collar, shaking him, howling "Where are they, Hench? Where'd they go?"
In her ear the still, small voice of her panicked husband was trying vainly to rein her in. From behind her came shocked cries. "Shego! Let him go!" Hands grabbed her, pulled her away from him. "What's wrong with you? He's hurt!"
There was a colossal concussion that nearly knocked them all off their feet; the whole building shook. From the grounds outside came a mechanical roaring. The four of them rushed to the window to see the dark, bulky shape barreling toward the open highway.
"Must have found the sub-basement garage. I'm surprised they were smart enough to hotwire it," Hench muttered.
As it drove away, Kim turned to Hench. "Are you all right?" Her concern was genuine. She'd inherited that from her mother.
"I'm fine. No thanks to Mrs. Drakken."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Go get those idiots before they really hurt somebody."
"Come on, Shego," Kim said, quietly, "we can follow them by air. Wherever they're headed."
"Some advice, Greenie," Hench sneered. "Act more like the gentle rain and less like a water main. I got nothin' for people who treat me like dirt. Not even"- and the disdain in his voice was devastating - "superheroes."
The green woman refused to meet his gaze. Murmured something into the tiny microphone at her collar, shut off her earphone/microcam as well.
Hench went to the shattered window, looked out over his desecrated domain. "Insurance'll cover it."
Ron broke the awkward silence. "So they've got a tank?" he nervously asked.
"No," said Hench, still looking out the window. "Not exactly."