Reviews
Gj agent: Very true.
RonaldM40196867: True.
simm36: Gracias y lo hare.
fereality: Thanks and sadly no they won't. Plan for Ron to be mad for a very long time. And yeah now my Walmart is struggling to hire but one of the workers is lazy and doesn't do her job in hiring.
Guest: Hm...maybe.
This Is Not Cool: Have no idea who Kgs-wy is, but I did contact NoobFish, but never got anything back. So I do credit him for the work if you paid attention to the other post.
George Cristian810: Was thinking of that, but decided not too as I have other plans.
RonaldM40196867: Thanks.
Warning: I do not own the amazing show Kim Possible, Iron Man, or other Marvel references. Fictional events that I make are mine.
The men were now coming down the corridors, carrying the tools that Ron would need, while Demenz was standing beside him translating to the terrorists.
"If this is going to be my workstation, I want it well-lit. I want these up. I need welding gear. I don't care if it's acetylene or propane. I need a soldering station. I need helmets. I'm gonna need goggles. I would like a smelting cup. I need two sets of precision tools." Ron listed.
There was another Stoppable Enterprises missile on the table as Ron, wearing gloves without fingers, carefully adjusted a screw."How many languages do you speak?" He asked his assistant.
"A lot." Demenz replied. "But apparently, not enough for this place. They speak Arabic, Urdu, Dari, Pashto, Mongolian, Farsi, Russian." He listed.
Ron then removed the explosive from the casing of the missile as the doctor listed their languages. "Who are these people?" Ron asked.
"They are your loyal customers, Stoppable. They call themselves the Ten Rings." He explained. Ron looked at his companion with a strange look on his face, his eyebrows raised as he removed something from the explosive.
The leader and two men were now looking at a small screen, watching Ron as he moved about the workshop, meaning the billionaire and the ex-villain were on camera, watching in case Ron tried anything suspicious.
"You know, we might be more productive if you include me in the planning process." Demenz said looking at the billionaire, fidgeting a bit as he watched Ron do whatever he was doing.
"Uh-huh." Ron dismissed him, sliding the entirety of his arm into and taking something out of a massive green bomb.
Ron now sat at the desk, carefully tinkering with some gears as his assistant stood to his left. This was lucky for him as... "Okay, we don't need this." Ron said, tossing the metal behind him without even a glance, startling the man.
"What is that?" Demenz asked.
Ron looked to him. "That's palladium," He explained, toying with some metal with the tweezers he had. "0.15 grams. We need at least 1.6, so why don't you go break down the other 11?" Ron asked.
A man was watching the security feed, looking rather confused. "What are they doing?" He spoke in his own language.
"Working." Another man said.
Ron was now mixing something in a bowl with his hands, before handing it off to his assistant, who heated it over a fire. "Careful. Careful, we only get one shot at this." Ron instructed.
"Relax. I have steady hands. Why do you think you're still alive?" Demenz replied with a bit of snark as he poured the liquid into another bowl.
Ron was now working intently as he pressed a small tool into a metal circular shape. He then pressed this tool to another piece of metal in his hand, this one quite a bit thinner. Demenz was watching in awe and confusion the whole time at Ron's work as Ron had a steely look of concentration and determination. And just as all power had been drained from everywhere else in the cave network, the strange little device started to glow an eerie pale blue color. Ron pulled the extention cord from the device, and within a few seconds the generator kicked back in, once again bathing the room in the dim light of the old incandescent bulbs. The only difference was that the device stayed lit, despite being disconnected from its power source.
"What is it?" Demenz asked curiously.
"An arc reactor..." Ron explained with pride. "One of my very first patents, made completely without any basis in Lorwardian technology, and eight times more efficient than anything they had. This small one here is roughly capable of generating eight thousand gigawatt hours of power." He turned to look at the clunky car battery sitting on the workshop table next to him. "Hello, battery, meet your replacement."
"That..." Demenz spoke in amazement. "Will be able to power your electromagnet for fifty lifetimes!"
"Or..." Ron grinned. "Something really big and power hungry for fifteen minutes or more... Depending on op-tempo, of course."
Demenz cocked an eyebrow with curiosity. "What do you have in mind?" he asked.
"Here, help me replace this first," Ron said. "Then I'll tell you my plan."
Demenz shrugged as he picked up the device in his hand and marveled at the amazing piece of technology he held. "So this is what the genius of Ron Stoppable is capable of."
"Enough gawking, start fixing," Ron said snappily, as he lay back on the table. "We don't have time; they are expecting us to build a weapon for them."
"Right," Demenz gingerly unplugged the car battery, and watched as Ron's face instantly contorted up with pain. Clearly, the little metallic slivers of death had started to move again in his body. Quickly, he connected the last two wires, before carefully lowering the entire arc reactor into Ron's chest. With a final twist of the device, it clicked into place, and Demenz stood back for a moment to watch in awe.
Ron was wheezing heavily from the pain as he glanced down at the bright glow coming out of his chest. "Whew..." he said bitterly. "I'm never doing that again!"
"So what's the plan?" Demenz asked.
"We are going to build..." Ron sat up, ignoring the screams of his nerves. He reached over to a stack of papers and handed them to Demenz. "This."
"What is this?" Demenz asked, as he struggled to understand the blueprints.
"This is our ticket out of here," Ron grinned cryptically, flattening out the papers on an artist's light table, nodding as the confusion left Demenz's face, being replaced by an appreciative, grim smirk. "Let's get to work."
As Ron slaved over the raging hot furnace, hammering the heavy steel chest-piece into shape, Demenz was busy tapping away at the computer, running through lines and lines of code. Tired and hungry after working non-stop for twenty six hours, Demenz finally leaned back and looked at Ron.
"So, Stoppable," Demenz asked. "I heard you asked Dr. Drakken to work for you."
"He insists that we call him Drew now," Ron replied without turning to look at him. He picked up the chest-piece and tempered it in a trough of oil before plunging it back into the forge.
"I do miss the old villain days," Demenz smiled to himself. "Those glory days when we were someone."
"Drew is working as Head of Research and Engineering, overseeing our weapons division," Ron replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. "He's earning a very comfortable seven-digit salary, and he's a hard worker, and always gets a nice bonus, not to mention standard company benefits. He's definitely more of someone now than he ever was. People have been acknowledging his genius since he started working with us."
"I just never expected Drakken to sell-out," Demenz mused thoughtfully. "It's just that… What happened to his dreams of taking over the world?"
"I guess after having the chance to save the world with me and Kim, he's changed." Ron grinned at the thought of his employee's fiancé and their cute little bundle of energy. "For the good I might."
"I always thought he had a thing for his sidekick, Shego," Demenz laughed at the thought of a domesticated Drakken.
"Nah, she's more of my bodyguard now." Ron explains. "I have her paid really well as she seems to change to turn her life for good."
"Ah… Well Drakken was always the fool," Demenz smirked. "He could have easily taken over the world with that woman. She was really something. Pity she never left him to work for me."
"At least he's good at inventing stuff," Ron shrugged. "That's what I pay him for."
"So he really has given up the whole 'take over the world' business?" Demenz asked.
"I sure hope so," Ron narrowed his eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"No need for concern, Stoppable, it's just… Sometimes, you know, you start to long for the old days again," Demenz spoke as though his thoughts were far away. "Sometimes you just want to relive those days again."
"I know what you mean," Ron shook his head, as he picked up the large chest-piece with his tongs to check it's temperature, before throwing it back into the fire. "Things were so simple back then, Kim and I running around saving the world… No GJ business, or thinking about the future…"
"Whatever happened to you and that red-head?" Demenz asked with a bemused smile on his face. "It came as a shock to most of us when you hooked up. Last I heard, you two were no longer together."
"Yeah, well… That was her fault," Ron replied bitterly as he worked the bellows, watching as the flames licked hungrily at the metal.
"What happened?" Demenz probed curiously.
"It was straight out of college, you know," Ron began with a sigh. "She got an offer for Global Justice, and I didn't. And it's not like I didn't want to work at Global Justice with her. I did, I applied for the job, went for all the tests and jumped through all those hoops for her. All they did was pat me on the back and say that I didn't try hard enough, even though I had decent and passable scores..."
"Global Justice rejected you?" Demenz's eyes opened up in surprise. "But you were the sidekick of the Kim Possible!"
"Yeah!" Ron raised his voice. "I told them that! And they said that's why they expected a lot more from me! They said it was my psychological profile that lost it for me… They said I wasn't motivated enough…" Ron chuckled mirthlessly, "If it was anyone else, they'd let them in with my scores… But hell if they cared… I mean, what does it matter, right? I passed and that should be enough for them…"
"Well, were you motivated?" Demenz asked.
"I did what they asked," Ron replied bitterly. "That's all I needed to do, right?"
"So that's why you broke up?" Demenz asked, as he watched his curious companion.
"No, that wasn't the whole reason." Ron grumbled below his voice, as he yanked the chest-piece out of the flames. He swung his hammer down on the piece of metal so hard that a shower of sparks flew up and settled on his skin. Unfazed by the heat, he continued, "I heard that she was back in town. Was a bit confused on why she didn't tell me so I went to her place to surprise her with flowers…but who did i find with her? A new boyfriend."
"Maybe he's just a friend?" Demenz guess.
"Pretty sure they were dating when they were lip-locking right in front of her parents." Ron said with anger. "Her parents! The people who I've considered my own parents when mines weren't around! Yet the whole family didn't seem to care about Kim's decisions!"
"I'm sorry to hear that." Demenz said with sorrow. "They say that good people with good hearts always get broken and always get taken advantage of."
"Very true." Ron said sadly. "Six months, and I'd already started to get my act together... I mean, I was already in grad school, but..." he paused, thinking back on the time period in a brooding silence.
"But?" Demenz asked leadingly, startling Ron out of his reverie.
"But nothing…" Ron's face hardened into an emotionless mask.
Demenz pursed his lips together as he thought for a moment. "Did you give her a chance to explain, that maybe it was someone else?"
"I know it was her!" Ron raised his voice. "She was my girlfriend for four years, we were partners in Team Possible for seven years, and best friends for fifteen! I've seen every scar and mark on her body, there's no way I'd mistake her kissing someone else! I…" Ron set his tools down and took another deep breath as he tried to calm the swell of emotions threatening to explode inside him.
"Anyway, I'm not going to be anyone's sidekick or fool anymore. Why should I give her a chance to explain herself? So that she can accuse me of spying on her and turn this whole thing back around on me? Besides, I know what she did, and there's no way in Hell I'm letting her make a fool of me twice!" He shook his head and slammed the palm of his hand on the workbench, sending small parts and scraps of steel skittering about. "I'm not stupid enough to beg her to take me back and pretend that nothing happened!"
"Fair enough," Demenz replied, standing and placing an understanding hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron relaxed a bit, sighing as he gazed at the older man. "So what happened after that?"
Ron shrugged and turned around, reaching for an arm piece and tossing it into the forge. Demenz backed off again, allowing the younger man room to work. "Well, that's when I decided to show her what she threw away," Ron continued, "I doubled, then tripled my course load, got my double PhDs, set up Stoppable Enterprises, built a multibillion dollar empire and..." he glanced around the room with a sigh that turned into a rueful laugh. "I got kidnapped by terrorists and forced to build weapons for them."
"So where is Kim now?" Demenz asked. "Do you still keep in touch with her?"
"No I don't, she can rot in hell," Ron replied grudgingly.
"I'm sure she knows that you're a rich and successful man now," Demenz commented. "So why aren't you two back together?"
"I never asked her to come back to me," Ron growled. "Not after that..."
"But you sound like you still miss her," Demenz said. "After all, you became all of this for her."
"True, but I don't care about her anymore." Ron said.
"Ah… Someday she will realize her mistake…" Demenz offered.
"Yeah right," Ron snorted, as he threw the chest-piece back into the fire. "Enough with the talking, we still got more work to do."
Demenz turned back to the computer monitor and scrutinized the code, but just before he could get absorbed into his work, he cast a glance at the tense back of his younger companion. A sad smile crept to his face as he thought to himself. "Maybe there's more than enough reason to try to escape this hellhole…"
"And… We're done!" Ron proudly declared as he held up the final piece of the puzzle: a thick iron mask with two slits for eyeholes. Barely a month had passed since they started, and now they had it: a full, working suit. Ron stood back proudly as he looked at the entire ensemble.
"And not a second too soon," Demenz warned him. "Raza has been getting antsy that we haven't shown him any signs of progress. Those computer codes that you show him do little to justify our lack of progress in the physical example department."
"No matter," Ron replied with a wide grin. "Because in twenty minutes, we are busting out of here."
"I hope you're right," Demenz replied nervously.
"Right, help me suit up," Ron spoke, as he began by sliding on a pair of thick leather gloves. "Strap me in real tight, because this is going to be a bumpy ride."
Demenz raised an eyebrow as he got to work securing the pieces of armor around the younger man. "I hope you don't mind me saying, Ronald Stoppable, but it has been an honor working with you."
"Likewise, Hans," Ron nodded his head. "If you're in need of a job, you'll find yourself more than welcome at Stoppable Enterprises. It's not like we're lacking the room for another mad genius." Ron flashed a winning, heartfelt grin to the older man helping him strap into the crude, but effective looking powered armor.
"I would think that Drakken and I have not gotten over our differences yet," Demenz smiled, as he strapped down the boots. "But I do appreciate the offer."
"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "I've seen your work; we could always use a man with your talents."
"It's alright…" Demenz shrugged. "After being captured in a cave and forced to make weapons for the past seven years, I'm quite certain I have developed other desires than to make even more weapons."
"I understand," Ron replied reassuringly. "But that's not what I have in mind anymore. We do have other divisions if you're ever looking for work, presuming you don't have other plans."
"I think I will go back home," Demenz smiled. "It's time to retire… This whole 'take over the world' business? It's a different environment now. No place for old timers like me. Maybe I'll see my sister. The rules have changed."
"Ah…" Ron nodded in agreement. "The rules definitely have changed." Just as he was going to slip on the iron mask, he heard loud shouting as a group of people were trooping down the hall towards them. "Oh crap," Ron cursed. "They're coming. Quick! Start the download!"
"Okay," Demenz hurried over to the computer console and punched in the final few command lines and hit the return key. The screen flickered and a pop-up box with a progress bar opened up. "This is going to take a while."
"Hurry!" Ron hissed urgently. "Rig the door! It'll buy us some time."
Demenz scrambled over to the huge iron double doors, and looped a long cord of wire loosely around its handles, before plugging it into a complicated-looking box sitting in front of the door. "I'm not sure how much time this is going to buy us," Demenz breathed as he ran behind Ron's armor for cover.
Ron glanced anxiously at the progress bar; it had only ticked past the 20 percent mark, creeping its way upwards ever so slowly; too slowly. "Hans!" he hissed. "It's not fast enough!"
"Wait, I'll…" before Demenz could finish the rest of his words, the sound of footsteps echoed just outside the door. As the guards threw back the large doors, a loud, roaring explosion rocked the entire cavern. The shockwave and the heat washed right past Ron, and he flinched away despite the suit's
protection. As dust and rubble tumbled down from the cave roof, the progress bar had only ticked past 33 percent.
Coughing wildly though the choking dust, Ron blinked his eyes, groaning in frustration as he realized he couldn't move the suit on his own. He felt his heart thumping wildly as he realized that his final trump card had just been played. The explosion would only delay them for a little longer, and would bring the entire network of terrorists in the cave down upon the both of them, more than ready with their happy trigger fingers.
"Too soon!" Ron grumbled as he strained against the hulking ton and a half of metal that encased him. It took too long to activate the suit. If only…
"I'll buy us some time!" Demenz hissed, as he ran out from behind his hiding place.
"Hans! No!" Ron shouted back. "Stick to the plan! It will finish in time."
Demenz ran over and picked up one of the rifles that the guards had dropped. "Ron, you and I both know that it will not. I will buy us more time," he spoke with conviction in his voice.
"No, Hans!" Ron's loud protest fell on dead ears as he watched the man run out of the room holding the rifle in his hands. "Hans!"
Ron shut his eyes, as he focused on hearing Demenz yelling at the top of his lungs and running wildly down the tunnel. With every brief burst of gunfire, Ron feared the worst, only to have his heart relieved again to hear Demenz's war-cry continue unabated. He turned his attention to the progress bar that had just crept by 77 percent.
With a heavy heart, he hung his head, never feeling more helpless in his life. The lights flickered twice around him and died. Darkness had never seemed more encroaching. The sporadic bursts of gunfire became more and more distant before silence enveloped the room with its cold, clammy hand. The only thing that provided him comfort was the soft glow of the computer monitor as it displayed how much more time was needed.
84 percent
Suddenly he heard voices. Men shouting as their footsteps thundered closer. The shouting was getting louder as they approached. He knew exactly what they were looking for.
89 percent.
Ron cursed silently as the shouting suddenly died down. A startlingly loud crunch of gravel grated to his right, and Ron was swept with panic. They were already in here with him.
95 percent.
Time had never passed so slowly for Ron, as he spied the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye.
100 percent.
The suit suddenly hummed to life as its systems started to kick in. Before anyone could react to the source of the noise, Ron lashed out with his right hand, backhanding the man nearest to him. He took two huge strides forward before striking out at the next man who was even more surprised to see a hulking iron behemoth bear down on him as quickly as an NFL linebacker.
Ron easily swatted the men in his path away like little gnats as he charged out of the door. Each step he took was like a gigantic hammer pounding the ground. The last remaining conscious man immediately ran howling down the tunnel, screaming as though a demon was chasing after him. Ron felt a manic smile creeping onto his face as he felt something new envelope him, something that he hadn't felt in the prior three months he had been stuck underground in the cave: hope.
Hope that he might just be able to make it out alive.
He quickly navigated his way through the maze of tunnels, surprised to see that there was so little resistance to him. As he got closer to that bright exit, and his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he finally realized why. Demenz's body had slumped against sacks of grain stacked on the left wall of the cave, his assault rifle just slipping out of his grasp as Ron approached, his gaze turned up to the sky. "Hans!" Ron called, kneeling as Demenz turned his grimacing face slowly to address the blond.
"Ron..." Professor Hans Demenz muttered, gazing at what was once a thorn in his side, and now... Something entirely different. "It is good to know you will get out of here..." he held up a finger as Ron opened his mouth to say something, "You must hurry... Don't let them catch you again..."
"C'mon," Ron said, reaching out towards the older man, "I'm getting you out of here, too!"
"This was always the plan, Ron." Demenz said, his grimace of pain descending into a resigned, almost serene smile.
"Come on, you're gonna go see your sister. Get up." Ron insisted.
"My sister is dead, they killed her. I'm going to see her now, Ron. It's okay. I want this. I want this." Demenz assured him.
"Thank you for saving me." Ron said gratefully.
"Don't waste it. Don't waste your life." Demenz closed his eyes and took a few last, shallow breaths before he lay still.
A surge of sadness surged through Ron, followed by a white hot anger. He cursed angrily at the world as he turned away from Demenz's corpse and stepped outside. Two dozen men, all holding their assault rifles up and aiming straight at him with their safeties off barred him from his freedom. Another feeling he hadn't felt for over nine years welled up inside of him upon seeing his weapons being used to bar his path.
He only had a brief moment to take the tactical situation in, his emotions enhancing his awareness instead of detracting from it. He barely staggered as he was slammed by a wave of bullets, and he cursed the men that had fired at him. The armor held, as the high speed projectiles only served to dent and scratch the external casing. Ron smiled grimly as he muttered to no one, "Now it's my turn."
He lifted his arms and thumbed the triggers in his hands, causing two tiny gas nozzles sprouting from his forearms. Gouts of flames spewed forth almost fifteen meters, making it seem as if he were wielding two whips of fire. He lashed out at the group, scattering some and engulfing others with his flames.
After removing the immediate danger, he turned his attention to the huge crates stamped with the Stoppable Enterprise logo stacked around him. Without hesitation, he bathed his own creations in flames, and felt a strange satisfaction as a raging inferno was stoked over the weapons cache. It was a
fitting funeral pyre for a man whom he had gotten to know so well, and who he owed his life to. Bidding a silent prayer to Demenz, he turned his flamethrowers towards a few men firing from the periphery of the storage area with deadly efficiency, before concluding it was time to make his escape.
He'd never tested the jet-propulsion system in his boots before in the confines of the cave. But after ascertaining that the theory was sound and that he had done everything possible to make them work, he finally had a chance to test it. Praying that they wouldn't explode along with his legs, he closed his eyes as he activated his jet boots.
He was instantly propelled into the sky, rising above the smoky remains of the weapons cache, finally free at last. He let out a loud whoop of joy as he cast his eyes skywards, angling his flight away from the site of the explosion. The suit climbed higher and higher, and he was sure he was over eight hundred feet above the ground. However, his excitement was short lived, as the rockets spluttered once, then twice before burning out on him.
"Uh, oh!" He thought to himself as gravity took over, and he began hurtling towards Earth at a dizzying speed. As the ground loomed up in his view, he gave one final scream, instinctually twisting himself to land on his back before the bone-jarring impact slammed into him like a freight-train. Sand sprayed wildly about as he collided into a huge sand dune, the course, granular materiel cushioning his fall slightly.
Ron laid in the middle of the wreckage, still covered with a few scraps and wearing the mask. He groaned and shifted, lifting his arm, which was tangled in wires and loose metal. He shook his arms off to rid himself of the wires and scraps, then tore off his mask. He then looked around slightly and sighed. "Not bad." He said.
Ron laid there for a good five minutes, panting hard as he slowly peeled the remains of the armor off of him, thankful that it has disintegrated upon his unceremonious landing, lessening the impact further than the sand already had.
Staggering to his feet, he turned his attention to the sea of sand before him. With the hot sun shining down on his back and the dry, dust-swept wind blowing across his sweat-drenched face, Ron held his head up high and breathed.
Freedom has never smelled this beautiful.
A Few Hours Later
Ron was now seen staggering his way through the desert, his jacket on his head to protect him from the harsh sun, his arms now bare. He seemed to be in a daze, as it almost looked like he was drunk while he walked.
Suddenly, the sound of engines could be heard, before a pair of helicopters flew overhead. "Hey!" He yelled out to the chopper, running after it and waving his arm. He apparently got their attention, as one helicopter landed as he dropped to his knees, laughing and raising one arm into the air.
The chopper landed and several soldiers sprinted towards him, the first one to reach him being a friendly face: Wade Load. "How was the 'fun-vee'?" Wade asked, crouching to Ron's level, putting a hand on his shoulder, Ron smiling at his dear friend.
"Next time, you ride with me, okay?" Wade asked, looking Ron in the face as his voice cracked, the young man clearly getting emotional to see his friend still alive. The two of them laughed and hugged each other, before separating, but that's when Ron passes out in exhaustion.
This chapter was heavily inspired from NoobFish and he takes the credit for it.