Two Talks

The next day, Ron was back in Middleton, and heading to the pre-school. The secretary at the front door nodded him back into the class section—Ron was well known. Inside, he paused, as Kim was finishing a story with the kids… involving an improbably large red dog and his little girl owner.

The same story they told us. Ron thought, as he looked at the children, their eyes huge. On the other hand, he didn't remember the first telling of the tale being so…animated, as Kim bounced back and forth, changing voices, even putting a hat on some of the kids, and having them take part in the story. That explained the odd explosion of giggles, and laughter. He waited until the story was over, enjoying the sight.

Kim bouncing with all the old energy, Kim happy. For the hundredth time, he thought about forgetting to tell her about Samuel's offer, then shook his head. Yori was right. He didn't have that right. Kim was not one of the children on the floor, she was an adult.

"Uncle Ron!" The voice came from behind him and Ron turned around and saw Jessica looking up at him.

"Hey Sprite, you burn the elementary school down?" Ron asked. Shego's oldest folded her arms and looked at him.

"No, and I don't have mom's fire…yet." She amended. "Mom says it will come in when I'm a teenager… she mimicked Shego's voice, 'for my sins.'" She sighed, "Sometimes mom and dad say weird things."

"That's… actually not weird." Ron said, thinking back to Kim's childhood and adding plasma to the mix. Jessica was a lot like Kim… He grinned, "So what are you doing here?"

"Mom got a different work schedule." Jessica said glaring, "I said that I could just come home, but she made me come here for…" Now her voice sounded like someone was making her eat slugs, "afternoon day care, like I'm a baby like the twins."

"It's probably not that." Ron said, "She's just afraid that she'll get a call from the police about the circus tent, elephant parade and mariachi band at her house."

"You're weird, Uncle Ron." She paused, "I like weird." Ron grinned, not letting the slight pang at her statement show through.

"So what do they have you doing?"

"Kim." She looked around and dropped her voice, "The other ladies tell me I should call her Miss Possible, but if they're not around she lets me call her Kim." That revelation concluded, she went on, "Says that I'm too old for naps, and too young for sleeping in front of the TV, so she lets me help her in the class room." Ron nodded seriously.

Well, I never thought I'd see that. If Kim had had any problem, it had been her love of taking control of every aspect of whatever it was she did. She'd learned.

A few moments later, the story was finished and the kids were heading outside for the last recess of the day. Ron walked over to Kim where she was keeping watch on them outside. Jessica was trying to look mature (as a seven year old could), but occasionally cast longing looks outside.

"Jessica," Kim said, "Could you go out and help keep herd on the others?"

"Sure!" She said, her voice Doppler shifting as she vanished into the playground.

"So how is Tim doing?"

"Surviving." Kim said, "And what about the problem in Washington?"

"We're, um…" Ron didn't want to lie, but Kim didn't have clearance.

"Oh. It was for something else and you can't talk about it." She said, "ok."

"I mean, I could if-"

"Okay."

"That is to s-"

"Ron! Okay, means Okay." Kim said to him. "Were you going to have a torrid affair with the presidents wife?"

"no!"

"Then don't worry." Kim sighed, "I know that you have things that you can't talk about—so did dad, and mom understood." She smiled. "So tell me what you can talk about?" Ron nodded.

"Well first of all, one of my friends, Colonel Verne… well he thinks he could make some room for you running his combat simulations."

"Like what I've been doing?" Ron shook his head.

"Like that times ten, Kim—his nickname when he was running official training exercises? The men called him 'the antichrist'." Ron paused, "And Taggert isn't any soft touch either."

"Tara's BF?" Kim asked, and then winced. She hadn't heard anyone use that phrase since high school.

"Um… you'd better get used to calling him "Captain Taggert" on duty." Ron said, "He and his Australians are spending six months here doing cross training, and Verne seems to think that you might profit from teaming up with them in the big simulator in Lowerton."

"Lowerton?"

"Remember the mall?" Ron asked. Kim thought and nodded.

"Oh, the death mall. Did any store there ever stay in business more than a month?"

"Nope, and so the Defense Department took it over, since it's nice and conveniently located near the space center—it's an urban combat simulator now."

"Oh." Kim said, "But I'd have to be specially cleared."

"Samuel is taking care of that now…" Ron paused, "I hope."

"So, Rabbi Katz, you see why I'm asking this favor of you." Samuel said, as he and the Rabbi finished up a very nice lunch—Samuel's treat. Not that the Rabbi would be bribable by a good meal, but it might put him in the right…frame of mind.

"Hmmm… you want me to clear Kimberly Ann Possible for unlimited access to the simulators, and the space center, so long as she also has military clearance." The Rabbi said. "For… physical training."

"Yes."

"Involving guns? She's not allowed to have or use any weapon."

"Well no, she isn't, but since there are no real guns, at least in the sense of functional battlefield weapons, used at the training center, that's not a problem." Colonel Verne said, sipping from his coffee, gray eyes looking at the Rabbi.

Rabbi Katz looked back, frowned, and paused.

"You seem to be under some degree of a misunderstanding about my role, Colonel." He paused, "And I must add, quite an interesting Colonel—I was able to find your name, and not much else." The Rabbi smiled, "Now, I could see that as simple security—but the simulator costs at least a million dollars a day to run, and that's for the simplest drills…. I have to wonder if a Colonel could assume such a cost for a civilian who will never be allowed in the military on his own authority, unless he was quite powerful. What exactly are your responsibilities?"

"They are…varied, but I'm not always at liberty to say. You understand."

"Ah, I do, but I think you are not entirely aware of my role."

"Yes?"

"I am Kimberly's parole officer, and today that means more than a watchdog. I'm her advocate, and yes, a person who's opinion will carry weight with the authorities when and if the time comes to reconsider her parole, or consider a commutation of her sentence. She is also someone very close to a close friend of mine."

"Ronald."

"Yes." The Rabbi looked over at a girl, no older than Kim had been when she had gone to prison. "I am certain you have examined her files. I have also seen the video files, especially those from the two hundredth day of her incarceration, when she finally, fully realized that she was not getting out, that this would be her home for possibly as long as 21 years. For a time, there was some fear that she might have to be transferred to a mental institution—the Warden, I might add, was very outspoken about the dangers to her mental health." Rabbi Katz paused and sighed "I won't get into specifics. You either can, or you don't have the right to, and I don't have the right to tell you, but Kimberly had never been in trouble before—not so much as a speeding ticket. From that, she went straight to prison—for a term that was to be longer than she'd been alive."

"And?" Samuel asked.

"And she survived. She managed to survive, not go nuts, and with the help of some psychologists at the prison, find some way to cope. She studied math, not because it was easy, but because it was difficult. She told me she'd thought about studying modern events, but it kept reminding her that she was in here, and in any case, regulations didn't permit many of those reference materials." He shrugged, "After that, she didn't bother to get a degree, but she probably also could have one in history and English."

"I was impressed by her drive in prison, and her personality."

"Yes, so was I—given what has happened to her, she has done well, not fallen into bitterness…and is most importantly, rebuilding her life." Now Katz looked at Verne and there was little friendship in his eyes. "And I find you coming to me, asking me to key her into training for an activity that she is absolutely forbidden to engage in, Colonel. If she goes out on a real mission and I find out about it, her next stop will have to be supermax, to spend the rest of her term there. Do you think she will survive that? What about all those who she'll leave here?"

"You presume that I am going to put her on a mission—I could just be doing Ron a favor."

"Really. What favor will that be?"

"I will train her and give her a honest rating of her abilities. I'll also show her that this is no longer the world of crazy villains, or silly death traps." He shrugged, "that favor."

"And no ulterior motives. So you would never dream of using her on a mission."

"I didn't say that. If I needed to, to secure this nations safety, I'd not only send her on a mission, I'd send her on a suicide mission."

"And when she came back, would you also back her up? Or would you let me dispose of her, back into supermax." Katz said quietly. "When Drakken and Shego were in a foreign nation, how many times did you or a predecessor send a message to Kimberly, asking her to 'save the world'…yet you never paid them, you never helped them when it counted, and when Kimberly was standing before a judge, you were nowhere to be seen, as were none of your organizations."

"There were…political considerations."

"My consideration is Kimberly's welfare…and for your information, Colonel, my oaths are ultimately to Someone who isn't impressed with your political considerations." Katz continued, "And this time would the same "political considerations" apply"

"No. I don't think they would."

"That's very good Colonel. Because I'll approve this, but I'm also logging the reason why, both on hard copy and computer. Because if Kimberly ever does break her parole because of something you were involved in, I'll remind you that assisting someone to break parole is also a crime—a felony to be exact, and I will guarantee you that I will make your life very, very uncomfortable." Verne didn't say anything for a time, staring into the Rabbi's eyes. Then he leaned back and chuckled.

"I never fail to be surprised." He said, "You run into genuine hard asses in the strangest places."

"Or for the strangest reasons."

"True. Don't worry Rabbi—I can pledge you this. Kim is close to a very good friend, and if, for whatever reason, I ever need to call on her services, they'll either be cleared by people who can change the terms of someone's parole—or I'll be standing in the dock next to her. I have to sometimes order my people to risk their lives, or lose them. It doesn't mean I do so casually, or on a whim."

"Good. Just so long as we understand each other."

TBC.