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The Stubborn Beast Flesh

AUTHOR: The Humbug

DISCLAIMER: “Kim Possible” and all characters within © The Walt Disney Company and its related entities. Kim Possible created by Mark McCorkle & Bob Schooley. All rights reserved. No profit is being collected from the fiction contained within. You can blame the rest of this on me.

SUMMARY: This is a Kim/Shego pairing fan fiction; there is love and romance between Kim & Shego, as well as plenty of action and adventure, and hopefully some humor and horror. Set in my own personal Kigoverse and my ‘Who’s Writing This Crap?’ storyline, this is a tale of what happens when something goes horribly wrong. Kasy Ann and Sheki Go Possible are the sole creations of NoDrogs and I pray that I’ve done them justice. Oh, and I am still using the wrong first name of John for Mr. Dr. P.

TYPE: Kim/Shego, Romance, Slash

RATING: US: R / DE: 16 for combat violence and intimations of a physical relationship and intimate contact between consenting adult females and should also cover some occasionally harsh language. If this will offend you please read something else, and then seek professional help.

Chapter XI / The Darkest Hour Is Just Before Dawn

Drew Lipsky meekly allowed his guards to lead him along the stark white corridors of the ‘GJ’ medical wing. He never dragged his feet, he anticipated each and every turn and checkpoint and he even raised his arms slightly so that the guards wouldn’t be uncomfortable when they held his elbows while they moved him through the complex. He presented such the appearance of being a model prisoner that no one even noticed him anymore. No one looked up to see the infamous Doctor Drakken being herded back and forth between his cell and the testing chamber where his lauded scientific skills could still soar freely. He still wore the bright yellow jumpsuit and his wrists and ankles were still manacled but ever since he had hit upon a possible cure…

A Possible cure. The blue man grinned to himself as they rounded a med-tech station. One of the Orderlies glanced up and gave him an innocent smile of her own. Fool, he thought.

He might not be a rock star but Drew knew that his freedom, however limited, was contingent upon his ability to produce a miracle. He had done this, he was sure of it, and he was also helping the techs down in research and development with their new toys, toys of his devising. What would happen to him once… if… they were actually able to catch their precious little hero and restore her to health was certain. He knew that they would lock him up for good and throw away the key. He smiled again.

They reached his cell and the manacles were removed. The eight by ten foot room was bereft of any creature comforts beyond a padded cot because he was still a dangerous man. Under no circumstances was Doctor Drakken to EVER have full freedom of movement, so read the instructions given to his captors; he knew this and was not offended. Even with the anti-psychotics and mood regulators that were administered into his food, he admitted that he was dangerous. One guard continued to hold him while the other lifted a single restraint cuff that was welded to a cable that in turn was welded to the bed. Only when the cuff was attached and he was securely linked to the bed frame did both guards relax and back out of the room. He had to give them some credit for their preparations in housing him.

The transfer of the blue man had been conducted in silence. Even his own guards were ignoring him. That was too bad because he loved the sound of his own voice and would have been all too happy to regale them with his latest scheme. Time was that he used to do that for… for Shego over hours and hours. He sat down and yawned. Leaving his sneakers on he lifted his legs and lay back on the mattress. He was asleep within moments and his dreams were of freedom.

88888888

Dr. Betty Director had never before heard so concise and efficient a report as she had heard just now.

Kim Possible was dead.

Those exact words had not been used, of course, but it boiled down to that. The child was dead and there was nothing that she or the thousand odd members of her contingent could do about it, not even with the vaulted miracles of technology that waited to obey her every command.

Today it seemed that this same technology was working overtime to painfully affirm the death of Kimberly Ann Possible; the sensors caught every piece of telemetry and relayed it back with lightning speed, even the state-of-the-art sound system here in the central command chamber and the sensitivity of the microphone out in the hover sled made the crisp, cool tones of Special Agent Hedges seem almost as if were right there in the room with them. Special Agent Hedges was a very observant man and few details ever missed his hawk-like gaze. Although he and his men were still miles away at the scene of the disaster, he would have witnessed many things at the Global Justice facility in this pre-dawn hour.

He would have seen Motor Ed staring dumbly at his large hands and the machines surrounding him, baffled that he could count on neither to undo this massive failure. There was the faint sobbing to be heard as Anne Possible wept openly into her husband’s shirt; the slender woman had pulled herself over and up into John’s lap and his face betrayed no emotions as he stared blankly outward, looking at nothing and no one. Agent Hedges would have noticed that his fellow agents had stopped in their tracks upon hearing his report and hardly seemed to be the highly trained representatives of the covert organization to which they had pledged their allegiance. They had become as ineffectual and stoic as captured chessmen and carried expressions that would have been more at home on the faces of refugees after a disaster.

The first to regain her composure and take action was Dr. Betty Director and she forced her words around the brick that had somehow managed to lodge itself in her throat. Her team needed orders and the support of their home base; Dr. Director might not feel as if Global Justice could be trusted with saving a cat from a tree right as this moment but discipline and order must be maintained.

“Thank you, Special Agent Hedges… please recall the team and return to base at once.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Any updates to report on the condition of…” She caught herself before she could say ‘the survivors’. “… of your charges.”

“Negative, Ma’am. The woman is in worse shape than the boy and he’s proving difficult to manage.”

“Is he conscious?”

“Hallucinating, more likely. He keeps muttering in what sounds like Chinese. We’re taping it for the linguists when we return.”

“Very well. The medical ward will remain on standby and will accept the wounded.” She glanced at the Possibles out of the corner of her eye. They had not reacted. “Upload all bulk data for processing and power down all non-essential tracking equipment… we do not want the Pentagon calling us again, do we?” The joke served no other purpose than to keep her throat open.

“No, Ma’am.” Betty knew that, with those words, the Field Commander would systematically begin to close down the tools most recently used to find their young knight errant, a mere slip of a girl with an indomitable will that had repeatedly proven to all of them just how vast were the limits of the human spirit.

In an effort to evade that moment when she must face the Possibles and verbalize what they all were thinking, Dr. Director turned instead to the displays monitoring the reading from the hover sleds of her search team. With a distinct lack of human spirit first one and then another set of readings would flatline and become dormant on the control panel regulated to that specific task. Please let this day end, she thought. Just one last set of displays to go and… just one last display to be closed down and…

A particular display had not ceased transmitting. She called out her inquiry to the overhead microphones.

“Hedges?” Too heartsick to be curious, her tone was dead. She received no reply other than an urgent flurry of unintelligible mutterings and this only served to spark her annoyance.

“Special Agent Hedges, you have your orders. You have now powered down all…”

“Ma’am, we… that is, I…”

One eye blinked and two ears heard a collective gasp from the other agents in the room. That man out there commanding the field team was never at a loss for words and NEVER would have interrupted a superior officer. Something had to be very, very wrong out there. Betty did her best to ignore the presence of the civilians in the room and selected her next words carefully.

“Special Agent Hedges, is there anything that you wish to add to your report?”

They all waited, most with the sick feeling of having just survived a train wreck.

“Ma’am… a spike was recorded when the tracking scanner was deactivated.”

No. Please, no. Just let this end.

“Need I remind you, Special Agent Hedges, that all Global Justice technology cycles through an automatic recalibration upon shutdown?”

“No, Ma’am.” Even the stereophonic speakers high above her head managed to drain the emotion from her agent’s voice. Betty pushed away the nagging feeling of hope that ran across her consciousness; she knew well that hope could be just as painful as despair. Still…

“Do you feel that investigating the possible source of this… phantom… transmission is warranted?”

“Ma’am, the frequency was similar even if the proximity and vector were off…”

“And you still want to check it?” This was the ultimate test. Her agent was far too by-the-book to stick with something he wasn’t confident in.

“Yes, Ma’am. My team and I request permission to confirm a possible source of the spike.”

God forgive me for engendering false hope. Maybe that should be added as a Commandment.

“Check it out and report back. Quickly.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Some life had returned to the man’s voice.

Betty Director turned away, even though the communication system at the command center made her movement unnecessary. She scanned the faces of her agents with her single eye and knew that they were just as torn as she was, frozen with anticipation. This would not do. Years of training and responsibility had taught her that if you can’t give people hope, at least give them something to do.

“Ladies and gentlemen, by the ticking of my watch and the motions of this Earth through the Heavens I presume that time has not stopped and that the World has not come to an end. There is work to be done and I expect within the next two seconds to see evidence that it is BLOODY WELL BEING DONE!” She didn’t need to look around to know that all of her agents had already started moving with haste, well before she’d started to raise her voice.

The unexpected smell of coffee beside her brought her around to find Edward Lipsky standing nearby. He was holding out a seaming cup to her. She didn’t make eye contact but she accepted the cup and nodded; this was apparently enough for him because he moved back to where the Possibles held each other in silence. The feeling of expectation in the room was palpable.

88888888

Wade sat in darkness. The sky just outside his bedroom window was already taking on the silvery glisten of pre-dawn light but the room itself had never before been as dark as it was now; no less than six computer monitors glowed around him and his desk lamp was still on but his young eyes were as clouded and he could see nothing. Nothing could pierce the shroud of despair that settled over him. His Kim was gone.

He had known this from the moment that her sub-dermal transponder had ceased to function. It had been child’s play to hack into the broadcasts between the Middleton continent of ‘GJ’ and the small flotilla of hover sleds; Wade almost considered the time and efforts needed to do so a waste of his capabilities. He had heard every word and had seen every image on their cameras. Global Justice had never known that he had also been watching Kim’s lifeline in the form of the signal from the transponder he’d implanted for her years ago. It was their secret, this tiny device, powered by the chemical processes and electrical field of Kim’s own body. The signal had been erratic ever since Kim had become ill but at least it was there, live on his screens whenever he needed reinforcement that she lived and breathed.

Only moments ago that signal had stopped and a large chunk of Wade Load had died along with her.

For a boy that had only left his family’s house in less times than the number of fingers on his nimble hands and in as many years, his world was vast. Data and information was his to command, dancing to his tune and letting him see all of the world at its worst and best. His self-imposed blindness was because, for all his lauded brilliance, he could not save the one person that had given him the semblance of a normal life.

Few people knew the circumstances under which Kim and Wade first met. Hubris and youthful curiosity had led his technological reach to exceed his inexperienced grasp while Kim Possible had been on a mission to discover who was hacking the research and development databanks of a well-known computer gaming company. With no other incentive than ‘because it was there’, Wade’s progress through the systems had been noticed and the company had asked a girl with a penchant for fighting crime to learn who was delving into their secrets.

Needless to say, when a young white girl crashed through an even younger black boy’s bedroom window, it had not exactly been love at first sight.

Armed with nothing more than a broom and a cell phone, Mrs. Load had burst through her son’s door and held an embarrassed and tearfully apologetic Kim at bay while a frightened and catatonic Wade lay curled into a ball beneath his computer desk. The Drs. P. had been quick to arrive at the modest home of the Load family and were so mortified at the actions of their daughter that it was only after their assurances of full reparations for the broken window and full coverage of any medical or psychological treatment for her son and a life-long grounding of their child did Mrs. Load agree not to call the police or file a lawsuit. Wade was almost taken to Middleton General for observation but his mother changed her mind when her agoraphobic son eventually unfolded himself and asked her what had happened; his fright had been so severe that he didn’t recall much of what had happened.

It was a week into her grounding that Kim asked her parents to contact Mrs. Load and beg for a chance to apologize to Wade in person for her actions. It was five weeks before Wade could even think about such a meeting without trembling that he asked his mother to agree to Kim’s request. The Load family had since learned the full details of the sitch and while the adults agreed that a little too much childish exuberance on both sides had been the ultimate cause, their respective offspring seemed to have learned from the experience and it was time to mend their figurative fences.

Mrs. Load had welcomed Kim Possible into her home and had fixed a lunch for the two youngsters to share, with Wade barely coming downstairs to eat it. It was nothing personal against Kim as the boy was far too intelligent to hold a grudge, but having a stranger in the house was something else entirely. The woman kept her distance and was grateful to hear the first of several tentative words spoken between the two.

The rest, as they say, was history. When her grounding ended after only two months and her parents agreed to allow her to resume her adventures, Kim’s first action was to recruit Wade Load as her technological support. He readily agreed, even going as far as joking that maybe with his assistance he could prevent another mishap like the one that brought them together. With his roster of friends increased by one hundred percent, Wade soon learned that the human element could be far more rewarding than anything that his machines could provide. Once Ron Stoppable and Rufus had expanded Wade’s circle of friends to three, the young boy believed his new life as a member of Team Possible to be compete.

Now Kim was dead and Ron was wounded, perhaps mortally. Rufus was missing and… Shego…

Wade stood and began to turn off everything at his workstation. Every monitor, every CPU and every external drive and printer was shut down and deactivated. When he was finished Wade shuffled his feet as he walked to his bed and, hanging his robe over the bedpost, he climbed up and slid under the covers and did his best to shut down his brain.

88888888

Drew awoke and glanced around the room in mild irritation. It wasn’t uncommon for the doctors and other assorted med-techs of Global Justice to enter his room while he was asleep and give him his medications or ask for a blood sample. The asking was a mere formality because he really had no choice in the matter. As it was, the room was empty. Something had awoken him, though, and he waited to see if whatever it had been would happen again. It did.

Someone was running down the hallway outside his door, several people in fact. He heard voices both loud and muffled and even a few sobs. He also heard normal conversation among people who were NOT running past his door; this led him to the conclusion that while something apparently bad had happened somewhere it was either not happening here or that it did not affect Global Justice as an organizational entity.

The blue man stood up from the bed and moved as close to the door as his cable tether, his leash, would allow. He closed his eyes and absorbed what few coherent words that were audible to him. After just a few seconds of careful sifting through the mutterings he learned what was going on.

This was the rumor mill and the grist was that Kim Possible was dead.

He remained standing for just a few more seconds before smiling and shaking his head. Drew Lipsky returned to the bed and this time he chose to kick off his sneakers before making himself comfortable. Reaching up and back he clasped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, the smile still on his face.

“Not likely.” With that, he returned to sleep.

88888888

If the Middleton sheriff’s patrol had been driving down a particular lane that morning, the officer on duty might have wondered why a bright orange Volkswagen ‘Thing’ would be idling in front of an apartment building so early in the morning. The sun would be up in an hour or so and the street was mostly deserted except for that one distinctive vehicle. Even more unusual was the fact that there was a young woman sitting behind the wheel and she hadn’t moved in several minutes. This was starting to worry one of her passengers to no end.

And that passenger wasn’t even human. Rufus crawled across from the front seat and into the lap of Bonnie Rockwaller. He saw that her eyes were almost closed and that her breathing was shallow.

“hay!”

Other than a soft snore there was no reaction.

“wayk hup!” He climbed up her side and onto her shoulder. Rufus cupped his tiny paws around his mouth and hollered into her ear. “rizenshyne!”

Still nothing. Ok, time to play dirty. The naked mole rat leapt from the sleeping young woman to the simple dashboard and perched on the rim of the steering wheel.

“sayl et da maul!” He bounced up and down. “ehvy’ting muss goh!”

“Sale?! Where??” Bonnie was awake in a flash and stared around blindly. Rufus stopped moving and waited for her to regain her senses. Bonnie blinked rapidly and by the time she was able to focus on her partner she had remembered where she was and what was going on. She arched her back and stretched, momentarily drawing the naked mole rat’s attention to her full breasts.

“… dayum…”

“Hm? What?”

“nuttin!” Rufus shook his head clear of inappropriate thoughts as the human massaged the kinks from her neck.

“Ow… I fell asleep, huh?”

“yup!” Rufus nodded, patient. Bonnie looked around.

“Was I out long?”

“noop!”

Bonnie nodded back at him and unfastened her seatbelt; she twisted around until she could see the two little pale green faces of Kasy Ann and Sheki Go Possible, both fast asleep in their carriers. The young woman turned back and squinted at the clock on the dashboard. She still felt groggy but was pretty certain that Rufus was correct that they she had only been snoozing for a short time.

“Guess I’d better get this show on the road.”

She cut the engine and opened her door. Careful not to wake the babies, she ever so gently lifted each carrier and set then down on the cold macadam while she locked up the vehicle. Running more on autopilot than anything else, she did have the presence of mind to grab her purse. Still, she was so tired that she almost shut the car door on one small rodent who had lingered behind to pull something out of a storage compartment. Bonnie marched towards the façade of the apartment building and Rufus struggled to catch up.

The main door was unlocked; security relied on each resident keeping their doors locked so Bonnie was able to enter freely and she walked to the elevators at the mid-point of the central hall. Once again, Rufus scampered as fast as he could to make it through the door before it closed. He wasn’t fast enough, unfortunately, to match the pace of those long and shapely legs as Bonnie reached the elevator doors first and had already depressed the ascend button. The weight of his cumbersome and jingling burden made him lag behind just enough to miss his chance at catching his ride; the doors were already sliding closed.

Bonnie didn’t notice his absence or to hear the dull THUD against the metal doors when he failed to stop in time. This was inadvertent and wholly unintentional as she did have feelings of affection for the animal and fully realized that, whatever else he might be, he knew a Hell of a lot more about this kind of sitch than she did. There had been just too much terror and action in one day for the young woman to take and she was starting to lose her fight against exhaustion.

Rufus rubbed briefly at his bruised head and swung the item he was carrying over his shoulder before turning towards the stairwell.

Bonnie reached the correct floor in no time and walked to the apartment door as quickly as she could without waking the twins. Setting them down in the middle of the well-lit hallway, she faced the door and grabbed the knob. It refused to turn.

The door was locked. Of course it was locked. Geez, I am so tired, she mused. I could sleep for a month. Bonnie started to reach into her purse… and she froze.

She felt that deadly chill that immediately strikes us all when we suddenly realize that something terrible has just occurred, something that we would do anything to change or take back. The kind of realization that breaks time into what is happening to you NOW versus everything that happened BEFORE.

She didn’t have a key, she never had.

She’d never gotten one from Ron before the start of their mission, hours ago. He hadn’t mentioned it and she hadn’t thought to ask. Her heart would not beat and she found herself staring at the locked door as if she would gain the ability to see through it. Sanctuary was waiting just two inches through the door and it might as well have been a million miles away. Whether or not Ron had been successful, he sure as shit wasn’t here now and Bonnie didn’t know where the Possibles were. They might be looking after their sons but that wasn’t certain and the tanned young woman couldn’t think of any other options. She was alone, this had been her responsibility, her mission, and she had just failed in the simplest and most spectacular way.

After several seconds of not breathing, her body took control and this initiated a flurry of manic action; just to be certain Bonnie forced open her purse and emptied the contents onto the carpet. She searched the pile and tossed things aside until she knew there was no key there. There was a mat under her knees, friendly and predictably welcoming, that Kim had probably selected. Bonnie ripped it up to see if there was a key. There wasn’t.

She staggered to her feet and systematically began checking every ledge, every nook and cranny in the lighted hallway. She searched under potted plants and above light fixtures and in each and every corner for some sign that Kim or Shego had a key hidden somewhere. If she hadn’t been so exhausted Bonnie might have made a little more noise; as it was she was fortunate that some other resident didn’t hear her and call the police. This scenario never entered her mind, however, and she started to feel as if the ground was falling out from beneath her feet.

There was a faint squeal of hinges and the stairwell door opened one… two… three inches to admit a staggering and heaving naked mole rat. He squinted with weak eyes and noticed the antics of the human which he sought.

She stopped her examinations only when tearing eyes made her vision too blurry to search anymore. The sobs that she had been so successful in keeping down were now able to force their way up and out through her mouth; Bonnie hadn’t even been aware that she had been crying for five minutes. Just barely able to find her way back to the Possible’s door, and only from the mound of familiar items that looked suspiciously like the kind of stuff that she usually kept in her purse, she fell back against the door and let her legs give out. Bonnie slid down the surface of the door and crumpled on the welcome mat.

“… weez…”

She’d failed again. Ron shouldn’t have trusted her with this.

“…pant…”

Why had Kim been so friendly towards her? Why had Shego welcomed her in? They must have known Bonnie would fail them, utterly. An image formed in her mind, unbidden, a mental snapshot of a tiny, perfect face that would never age and it was recalled in sharp detail.

“… gasp…”

Just like I failed you… my little man…

“… sik aza dahg…”

The image suddenly faded when she noticed something small and pink moving closer to her. Bonnie looked up and watched in shock as Rufus limped over to where she sat and dropped to the carpeted floor, rolling over onto his back as dry heaves wracked his small body. He raised his paw and a shiny prize was held aloft as if it were Excalibur just pulled free from its stone.

“… gunna vomut…”

“Oh…!”

“… ta-da…”

“You have a KEY! Oh, Rufus!” She crawled the few feet that separated them on her hands and knees and gently lifted the key from his paw. Rufus was insensate after having spoken and she instantly felt how overheated he was. Clawing at the items she’d dumped from her purse, Bonnie managed to locate a tissue and dabbed at the sweat that covered the twitching form, blowing across him to facilitate faster drying and cool him down.

She knew this wasn’t enough; the little beast would need more care and attention and he would need to be kept from cooling down too much. Having neither pockets to carry the unconscious animal in nor time to lose, Bonnie secured Rufus in the most convenient location available to her and hurriedly scooped the loose articles up from the mat and back into her purse. With a silent cry of victory, the young woman rammed the key home and unlocked the door to the apartment.

As careful as before, she lifted the infants and brought them inside with her. She used only her elbow to flip the nearby light switch and inspected the living and dining area that the overhead light shone to illuminate. She passed through these and made her way to the kitchen. Turning on the light to that room also, she set the baby carriers up on the table and gave the girls a quick but overdue inspection. Bonnie’s maternal instincts had never lessened; her inspection was thorough and they never fussed even once. Finished, she reviewed the reason why she had chosen to come here.

There would be items here, articles of clothing, maybe even food or medicines, that she knew her former classmate would have well-organized and Bonnie understood that she would need if she must have these things if she was going to keep the girls with her for an indeterminate amount of time. Just until she was able to make contact with the Possibles or even Ron or Shego if the sitch back at the fuel depot had been successfully resolved. Pursing her lips and huffing in frustration, she admitted that she would be able to move faster if she weren’t lugging the children around with every step. Taking the risk, she turned the girls away from the ceiling lamp and made a beeline for the girls’ room.

Rufus awoke from his brief period of discontinuity to find himself nestled between two soft but firm… somethings. He wasn’t at all certain where he was but from his vantage point he noticed that he was several feet above the floor and moving through the rooms of the apartment belonging to The Beloved KP and The Mighty Shego. He was almost as warm as when he would travel inside of The Almighty Ron’s trouser pocket but the cushiony orbs to his right and left were definitely bare flesh. Looking up he saw the underside of Bonnie’s chin and suddenly realized where he was. His beady eyes popped wide and three thoughts shot through his head.

Wow.

The Beloved KP doesn’t have anything like THESE.

These humans are weird. He ceased to ponder the issue and let the warm jostling coax him back to sleep.

Bonnie had been very successful in a very short amount of time; diaper bag that also held powders and ointments, a satchel with teething rings and pacifiers and even an insulated compartment that would hold a bottle or two, not to mention a change of clothing in the form of two clean one-piece rompers that she was able to stuff into the diaper bag.

The word ‘Booyah’ came to mind and Bonnie grinned. Things were looking up.

A mild growl from somewhere below her line of sight gave her pause and she wondered if Rufus was awake. Looking down, she saw that he was still out like a light. She didn’t have to wait long before the sound repeated and this time it was accompanied by a fluttering in her belly. With a rueful smirk Bonnie admitted that she couldn’t say when she had last eaten; she returned to the kitchen and the sleeping infants.

Making sure that they were still safe and sound, the next thing she did was to carefully remove the sleeping Rufus from her shirt and wrap him in a linen napkin, one of several stacked next to the salt, pepper and other condiments at the center of the table. That done, Bonnie walked over to the refrigerator and cracked the seal on the door… and her mouth dropped open.

“Cripes! Look at all the junk food!”

Kim had always avoided junk food when they’d been classmates together so she surmised that it belonged to Shego. Maybe the plasma burns off calories, she wondered. In no time, Bonnie had managed to scrounge the materials necessary to fabricate a reasonably acceptable sandwich… ham, onions, mustard and cheese. That, and a glass of apple juice. The smile came quickly to her lips as she thought, looking down at her plate, how there had been a time when she wouldn’t have even THOUGHT about eating something as gauche as this.

“What will the girls on the squad think?” She giggled. Bonnie Rockwaller was getting punchy and exhaustion was setting in.

She started to shake just as she sat down at the kitchen table. She had been on the go for hours now and with hardly any rest except for the catnap in the car down at the curb outside. Surely she could take a few minutes to rest her legs and back and refuel a little? Taking another glimpse at the sleeping children, Bonnie ripped into her sandwich. She also looked at the clock high up on the wall and ruminated that, a few years before, she would have been getting up for school right about now. The room was warm and quiet and she was tired, so tired, that even with the joy of Rufus bringing her the key and the clean escape she’d made from the fuel depot and, best of all, the way she and Ron had rescued the babies, the weariness slowly took control of her mind and body.

She didn’t realize that she had completely forgotten her sandwich after only three bites, or that she hadn’t taken more than one sip from her juice. Her right eyelid became like lead and would not stay open while her left eye became fixed on nothing in particular.

Bonnie’s head lowered onto the cool Formica of the table in front of her and she slipped deeply into slumber.

88888888

The silver glow of predawn was more than enough light for Agent Benson to avoid tripping and falling into the silt along the banks of the Middleton River. He had been the first one to exit the hover sled when the team had reached the approximate area where that phantom signal, that possibly random transmission spike, could have come from. While the agent with the most medical training remained behind to care for their unconscious passengers, the others radiated outward in a search pattern to see what they could find.

The remains of a hundred thousand dead things awaited them along the bank and near some abandoned pilings and inside of some disused drainage pipes…

Agent Benson froze. Kneeling down he closely inspected one of those pipes and noticed that for all of the filth and debris there was an unusual amount of disturbance to the silt and mud when compared to the other pipes. Grabbing the rim of the pipe and pulling himself up, he gauged the source direction of the pipe from where it breached up through the soil further back from the water’s edge.

The pipe could have come from the fuel depot; the fires still raged while distant emergency rescue teams struggled to contain the blaze. Benson reached a conclusion.

“Sir!”

Hedges singled his man out from the rest and walked closer.

“Status, Agent Benson.”

“Sir, look.” He pointed to the pipe and the freshly disturbed mud. Hedges knew in a flash what his man was intimating but he was far too pragmatic.

“Animals.”

“The marks are too deep, sir. It was heavier than a dog or anything. It had to be human!”

“Agent Benson, maintain your composure.” The Special Agent dropped down and made his own inspection. “Human, maybe. Could have been a homeless person.”

“Sir?”

Both agents turned to see a third operative run up to them; Benson sidled away when it became obvious that she was here to talk to Hedges. The field commander and senior operative gave the young agent his full attention.

“Yes?”

“Sir, the boy is talking again.”

“More Chinese?”

“It’s English this time, but rambling.” She seemed to be at a loss. “He keeps muttering something about a bunny and a Rottweiler.” The female operative frowned. “We don’t know what it means.”

“More likely he’s referring to Bonnie Rockwaller.” Hedged looked at his watch. “She was attacked by the target yesterday at the Possible residence along with the target’s twin brothers.” There was no point in reminding anyone that the target herself did the attacking.

“Oh. Then the rest of it makes sense.”

“Meaning?”

“Apparently he gave the little girls to her. This Bonnie Rockwaller.”

“We can only hope so.”

“It’s the only other thing that he said that made sense.”

“Did he give any indication where she was?”

“Nothing like that, sir, no.”

“Hm.”

“Should I report that back to base, sir?”

No answer but raised eyebrows; she nodded in acknowledgement.

“I suppose that every cloud has a silver lining, doesn’t it?”

“Hm.” He nodded a dismissal and the agent walked away. Hedges glanced at his watch again so Benson stepped up and tried a new tactic.

“What exactly are these pipes, sir?”

“Possibly sump pumps for the depot. The whole area around the river is marshy.”

“What I’m saying is that if the structure was collapsing…”

“… and she didn’t combust immediately from the intense heat or crumble to a cinder before hitting the concrete below AND if she just happened to fall into one of these pipes AND if she were whole and intact enough to crawl over half a mile to the river…” Hedges fought not to embrace the fantasy; the girl was dead. “Resume your search, Agent Benson. In five more minutes we’re returning to base.”

“But, sir!”

“Five. More. Minutes. That’s an order.” Hedges turned his back on the subordinate and walked towards another cluster of agents. Benson was too good of an operative to disobey a direct order so he did resume his search by attempting to discern a path or purpose to the rents in the muddy silt.

If it had been a human being that had made the marks it had been small and not very heavy; all the more evidence to support his theory; if a person that size and shape were dragging themselves, the marks might just be similar. Benson followed what trail he thought he’d found until he ran out of land at the bank of the Middleton River. Eventually he ran out of time, too.

“Time! Return to the hover sled and stow your gear, we are returning to base.” Hedges pivoted around to make sure that all his operatives were on the move. All were, with one exception.

“Benson. Let’s go.”

Benson cursed and spat at the ground. There was nothing to work with here but more mud and soiled rags and…

Something glittered at his foot that wasn’t flotsam or jetsam. He stooped to pick it up.

“Agent Benson! We are leaving NOW!”

Benson repressed his grin and raised the tiny object high over his head.

“Sir! I think you’re going to want to see this!”

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There was someone in his room!

Wade Load was sure that he’d been sound asleep but now he was wide awake and just KNEW that he was being watched. His heart hammered inside his chest to imagine that somebody had violated his room, his sanctum sanctorum. Turning off his machines would have no effect on the security measures he’d installed years ago… but right now he had that feeling that most prey feels just before the predator strikes.

Pulling the covers down ever so slightly, he let his eyes acclimate to the faint light bleeding in through his curtains. It was almost dawn but you wouldn’t have known it; what light there was came from a street lamp near the house. The wall with his bookcases and the door seemed clear enough; taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, the boy rolled over and inspected the side of the room where the single window admitted the meager light. This, too, looked safe and there weren’t enough shadows for an intruder to hide.

Wade knew that he would have to check the closet. That meant getting out of bed.

Confident that there was nothing dangerous within the main area of the bedroom, he quietly pulled his sheets and blanket away and swung his legs out onto the floor. Reaching for the only weapon that his loving mother would allow him to keep in his room, Wade acknowledged that he had her to thank for his confidence that there could be nothing actually hiding under the bed.

Wade Load had been three years old when he had presented his mother with a diagram and reams of notes detailing a machine that would monitor for and prevent monsters from hiding beneath his bed and feasting upon him while he slept. Knowing that her son was special in more ways than one, she listened patiently to his brilliant but childish presentation and explained that such a machine would cost thousands of dollars that the Wade family simply did not have. Little Wade hadn’t pouted and claimed that he understood but the woman knew that her amazing boy would always fear the things that go bump in the night if there was a chance that one of them could grab his foot and yank him down from the bed.

Ever a practical woman, she invested less than ten dollars in a new handsaw and she and her son made an event out of sawing the legs off his bed. He couldn’t help but smile ruefully as he raised the Whiffle Bat higher and marched across the room.

Motion and a change in the light once he was halfway to the closet make him freeze. There was a sound, too, and it was several seconds before he was also to see that the play of lamp light through the branches of the tree outside his window were causing the shadows to shift and dance, just as the wind was causing the bows to scrape against the panes. As soon as his breathing was under his control again Wade traversed the few remaining steps to the far wall and his target; the closet door was shut and the light switch mounted on the wall to the left was still in the down position.

Of course he knew that the closet light was out or he would have clearly seen light shining from the bottom edge of the door. He listed the actions that he must take sharply in his brain and started a brisk countdown from three… two… one…

Wade flipped the switch and a blade of light shone across his floor. He wrenched the door open and kicked it wide. He swung the Whiffle Bat blindly into the tiny room. He opened his eyes at the sound of plastic impacting against cloth and knew that his trousers would never again threaten anyone. There was nothing in the closet that shouldn’t have already been there. He could see the back wall behind the hanging clothes and unless an intruder was small enough to fit within a shoebox the floor inside was safe as well.

His heart was pounding again. Even though it had only been a few minutes ago that he had awoken, the adrenaline was already coursing through his veins and he felt like he might throw up at any second. He wondered if Kim or Ron had ever felt like this while on a mission and decided that they probably never had.

As if I needed to deal with a Boogeyman problem tonight, this of ALL nights. Wade raised the bat again and thrust a few idle pokes into the hanging clothes and, satisfied that he had searched every corner of his room, switched off the closet light and turned to shuffle back to his warm bed.

The movement and sounds from outside again. He glanced toward the window with almost careless disregard.

The panes exploded inward and shards of glass flew everywhere as a dark shape burst through. It was compact and struck the boy like a cannonball, but it unfolded into a tangle of arms and legs even as he lost his footing and backpedaled, unable to remain standing and ultimately falling down onto his back with a thunderous crash that drove the breath from his body. Wade lay stunned, all circuits busy as it were. It took a second before the impact-induced fog could lift and he could register his situation.

It crouched on him, both feet resting firmly on his flabby chest and he could feel the thing shifting to keep its balance. It breathed and he could smell the stench of rot and decay; it moved and he could hear a faint… squishing noise, as if it were filthy with something viscous and slimy.

It spoke and he recognized the voice.

“Boo.”

The mouth was invisible to him in the darkness but he knew it must be there because after speaking the ragged head turned away and evacuated something wet onto his floor. He knew this without seeing because he heard the retching, heard the splatter and smelled the same sweet rot of bile and pus and something else not of the human condition.

He last thing Wade saw before fainting dead away were two fiery green eyes that radiated hatred down at him.

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“And you are certain?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Absolutely certain?”

“Yes. Absolutely, Ma’am!”

Dr. Betty Director drew a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Are we talking about Benson certain or Hedges certain?”

Miles away, Hedges knew what she was asking. So did his subordinate who was standing next to him and neither man minded in the least. Benson grinned wirily even though it was Hedges responsibility to respond.

“Hedges certain, Ma’am.”

“Understood.” That’s what she had been half afraid of. “Bring the team in for refueling and a full debriefing. We will consider our next course of action afterward.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” The transmission ended and the line went dead.

Betty lowered the receiver and turned to face the others. When one of her aides had approached her with a message that Special Agent Hedges was calling for her on a private line she hadn’t dared to speculate on the matter. The man had wasted no time, however, in telling her what his team had located in the course of their search. Now she had to tell her people. The woman kept her arms straight against her sides and tilted her chin slightly upwards; she faced a mid-point between the floor level and the upper mezzanine of operatives and their computer arrays.

Turning her head neither left nor right, she spoke loud enough for all to hear.

“Ladies and gentlemen… the evidence previously obtained that supported the incontrovertible irretrievability of our girl has, as of this moment, been brought into question. This does NOT necessarily mean that she is alive.” Dr. Director had heard the initial murmurings of success and she knew that she must squelch them now. “Instead, we are left with an even larger quandary than before.” She pivoted and made a subtle inspection of the room. All eyes were on her.

“Our field team has located a sub-dermal transponder along the banks of the Middleton River, intact other than apparently having been removed from its carrier using decidedly non-surgical techniques, and certain elements of the location lend credence to support the continued survival of our target.” There was no need to explain that the tiny device had shown visible traces of pitch. “Our field team is returning to base…” She glanced to one of her operatives, a young man responsible for tracking the location and movements of the field team; he nodded in affirmation and voiced his answer to her unspoken question.

“ETA ten minutes, Ma’am.”

She nodded back.

“… where they will relinquish the wounded members of Team Possible, namely Ronald Stoppable and Shego, into the care of our medical team before continuing their search.” Refusing to give in to hope, she waited. When the whispers subsided, she continued.

“Our girl is still out there.”

The agents waited for the inevitable order.

“Carry on.”

And they did, each imbued with a newfound energy that Dr. Betty Director herself was afraid to feel. Too many times had she let hope carry her just as far as another crisis, another reason for despair. Turning to address the only civilians in the room, Betty was surprised to see the brawny arms of Motor Ed wrapped around the embracing forms of both John and Anne Possible. She was even more surprised to see them expressing their gratitude towards the large man as if he were an old family friend instead of a foe of their daughter.

Maybe I restrain in my hope so that they can express theirs.

Edward Lipsky looked over at her and winked. She would have winked back except that to do so would have felt out of place in this militant environ, also that she didn’t feel quite so comfortable around him yet and furthermore… the man had never been around her long enough to know what a one-eyes wink looked like; hers was a subtle furrowing of the brow above her felt patch. Most of the seasoned agents would have recognized it but she decided against the gesture under the circumstances.

But her comfort level was increasing ever so slowly where Edward Lipsky was concerned. She appreciated his unsolicited support and assistance but now she needed to have a few words with the Possibles on her own.

“John… Anne…” Betty strolled closer now that her agents were back to their assigned tasks; she waited until she was close enough to speak privately before saying more. “There is little need for you to remain here. We have dispatched our metropolitan team to comb Middleton for Ms. Rockwaller and your grandchildren.” She shrugged. “They have yet to report anything.”

“What makes to so sure that Bonnie has the girls?” John Possible stroked his wife’s hair in a way that meant he probably wasn’t aware that he was doing it.

“Because it was one of the few coherent things that we could get out of Ronald Stoppable when he was being treated by my field team.”

Anne Possible straightened and her instincts as a healer came to the fore.

“John, I should go back to the medical ward.” She kissed her husband. “We’ll all need to keep ready if they locate Kim. That, and I can help with Ronald and…” She closed her eyes and frowned. “And Shego.”

“I understand.” His reciprocation of her kiss had been as strong as the day they were pronounced man and wife. “Eddie and I should be getting back to the research and development bay.” He held still while the slender redhead gently slid from his lap and waited until she’d found her own feet before standing. “We all need to get back to work so that we can be prepared.”

“Dude.” Eddie had moved back a little to give the couple breathing room. “I’ll just go on down and get the tech guys ready for another test. Seriously. You two can, uh…” The big man ran a hand nervously through his mullet and John let him off the hook with a tired smile.

“Thanks, Ed. Tell the men I’ll be right down.”

“Cool! Seriously!” Grinning as if he had just solved all the world’s problems, Motor Ed gave a polite thumbs-up and backed away. Betty watched him leave before turning back to the Possibles.

“I share your sentiments, John. We must all keep busy and vigilant right now.” She clasped her hands together. “I also have a few new decisions to review and plans to revise now that the search has resumed. So, if you both will excuse me…” They understood and were nodding at her when she paused, a minor detail of this misadventure bubbled up to the surface of her consciousness. “One more thing… we are having Middleton General Hospital transport Jim and Tim to this location so that we can care for them here. You may want to visit them before you return to your respective tasks.”

She was met with a matching pair of blank looks.

“The boys? Why?” Anne Possible cocked an eyebrow at the uniformed woman. “What’s wrong with the boys?”

“Anne? I thought that the boys were at home.” John Possible looked from one woman to the other in puzzlement. “Did something happen after Kim and Shego took the girls?”

Dr. Director froze. A feeling of timelessness that Bonnie Rockwaller would have sympathized with crept over her. Shit, she realized, I never told them about the attack on their sons. Or that Kim was the one who attacked them. I only told them what their sons reported to us after the attack… that Shego had brought the ailing Kim to the house after breaking the young woman out of ‘GJ’, had collected the babies and then left for parts unknown.

That had been all.

Nuts. Betty sighed and reached out towards a technician seated at a nearby control panel. Under the puzzled stares of the Drs. Possible she rested her hand on his shoulder and got his attention.

“Please have a small, squad of our local security report to central command. Have a med-tech accompany them, as well.” She thought for a moment. “Have them prepared to treat blunt force trauma and moderate abrasions.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“What was all that for?” Anne’s ire was unmistakable; she smelled a sitch and Dr. Director acknowledged which parent Kim had gotten her instincts from. Betty sighed again and mentally prepared to face the music.

“For me.” She faced them. “There is something that I failed to tell you, earlier.”

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Bonnie Rockwaller awoke with a bad smell in her nostrils. She then became aware of pain in her neck; it didn’t take her long to realize that she had apparently fallen asleep sitting upright, just as she had in the car parked down at the curb outside. Here eyes were matted shut and this gave her a few seconds to acclimate to the bright lights of the kitchen while she wiped the gunk away. Her vision was still watery and she blinked several times to let it clear, keeping her head down to both avoid being blinded and also because her neck really did hurt. She had no way of knowing how long she had been out, at least not until she could manage to look up at the clock on the wall behind her.

None of this explained the bad smell.

Gingerly rolling her shoulders to loosen the muscles and tendons like she used to do to warm up before a game, Bonnie slowly lifted her head until she could see the first foot or so of the table closest to her. The babies were still in their carriers, resting on top of the table. Kasy was awake and gurgling happily at her while Sheki snoozed on. They looked as fine and healthy as they had been when she first got to the apartment.

Did either of them need changing? Was that the source of the stench? No one was crying, so maybe not. Not quite able to focus her vision yet, she forced her head up a little higher and noted that Rufus wasn’t where she’d left him; the napkin was there but the naked mole rat was gone. Bonnie lifted her head a little more.

There was a nightmare sitting across the table from Bonnie, eating her sandwich and holding the glass of apple juice.

“Hi, Bon-Bon.”

To Be Continued…

Author’s Note: Is this a cliffhanger? I’m never sure.

Description
The Stubborn Beast Flesh

AUTHOR: The Humbug

DISCLAIMER: “Kim Possible” and all characters within © The Walt Disney Company and its related entities. Kim Possible created by Mark McCorkle & Bob Schooley. All rights reserved. No profit is being collected from the fiction contained within. You can blame the rest of this on me.

SUMMARY: This is a Kim/Shego pairing fan fiction; there is love and romance between Kim & Shego, as well as plenty of action and adventure, and hopefully some humor and horror. Set in my own personal Kigoverse and my ‘Who’s Writing This Crap?’ storyline, this is a tale of what happens when something goes horribly wrong. Kasy Ann and Sheki Go Possible are the sole creations of NoDrogs and I pray that I’ve done them justice. Oh, and I am still using the wrong first name of John for Mr. Dr. P.

TYPE: Kim/Shego, Romance, Slash

RATING: US: R / DE: 16 for combat violence and intimations of a physical relationship and intimate contact between consenting adult females and should also cover some occasionally harsh language. If this will offend you please read something else, and then seek professional help.

Chapter XI / The Darkest Hour Is Just Before Dawn

Drew Lipsky meekly allowed his guards to lead him along the stark white corridors of the ‘GJ’ medical wing. He never dragged his feet, he anticipated each and every turn and checkpoint and he even raised his arms slightly so that the guards wouldn’t be uncomfortable when they held his elbows while they moved him through the complex. He presented such the appearance of being a model prisoner that no one even noticed him anymore. No one looked up to see the infamous Doctor Drakken being herded back and forth between his cell and the testing chamber where his lauded scientific skills could still soar freely. He still wore the bright yellow jumpsuit and his wrists and ankles were still manacled but ever since he had hit upon a possible cure…

A Possible cure. The blue man grinned to himself as they rounded a med-tech station. One of the Orderlies glanced up and gave him an innocent smile of her own. Fool, he thought.

He might not be a rock star but Drew knew that his freedom, however limited, was contingent upon his ability to produce a miracle. He had done this, he was sure of it, and he was also helping the techs down in research and development with their new toys, toys of his devising. What would happen to him once… if… they were actually able to catch their precious little hero and restore her to health was certain. He knew that they would lock him up for good and throw away the key. He smiled again.

They reached his cell and the manacles were removed. The eight by ten foot room was bereft of any creature comforts beyond a padded cot because he was still a dangerous man. Under no circumstances was Doctor Drakken to EVER have full freedom of movement, so read the instructions given to his captors; he knew this and was not offended. Even with the anti-psychotics and mood regulators that were administered into his food, he admitted that he was dangerous. One guard continued to hold him while the other lifted a single restraint cuff that was welded to a cable that in turn was welded to the bed. Only when the cuff was attached and he was securely linked to the bed frame did both guards relax and back out of the room. He had to give them some credit for their preparations in housing him.

The transfer of the blue man had been conducted in silence. Even his own guards were ignoring him. That was too bad because he loved the sound of his own voice and would have been all too happy to regale them with his latest scheme. Time was that he used to do that for… for Shego over hours and hours. He sat down and yawned. Leaving his sneakers on he lifted his legs and lay back on the mattress. He was asleep within moments and his dreams were of freedom.

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Dr. Betty Director had never before heard so concise and efficient a report as she had heard just now.

Kim Possible was dead.

Those exact words had not been used, of course, but it boiled down to that. The child was dead and there was nothing that she or the thousand odd members of her contingent could do about it, not even with the vaulted miracles of technology that waited to obey her every command.

Today it seemed that this same technology was working overtime to painfully affirm the death of Kimberly Ann Possible; the sensors caught every piece of telemetry and relayed it back with lightning speed, even the state-of-the-art sound system here in the central command chamber and the sensitivity of the microphone out in the hover sled made the crisp, cool tones of Special Agent Hedges seem almost as if were right there in the room with them. Special Agent Hedges was a very observant man and few details ever missed his hawk-like gaze. Although he and his men were still miles away at the scene of the disaster, he would have witnessed many things at the Global Justice facility in this pre-dawn hour.

He would have seen Motor Ed staring dumbly at his large hands and the machines surrounding him, baffled that he could count on neither to undo this massive failure. There was the faint sobbing to be heard as Anne Possible wept openly into her husband’s shirt; the slender woman had pulled herself over and up into John’s lap and his face betrayed no emotions as he stared blankly outward, looking at nothing and no one. Agent Hedges would have noticed that his fellow agents had stopped in their tracks upon hearing his report and hardly seemed to be the highly trained representatives of the covert organization to which they had pledged their allegiance. They had become as ineffectual and stoic as captured chessmen and carried expressions that would have been more at home on the faces of refugees after a disaster.

The first to regain her composure and take action was Dr. Betty Director and she forced her words around the brick that had somehow managed to lodge itself in her throat. Her team needed orders and the support of their home base; Dr. Director might not feel as if Global Justice could be trusted with saving a cat from a tree right as this moment but discipline and order must be maintained.

“Thank you, Special Agent Hedges… please recall the team and return to base at once.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Any updates to report on the condition of…” She caught herself before she could say ‘the survivors’. “… of your charges.”

“Negative, Ma’am. The woman is in worse shape than the boy and he’s proving difficult to manage.”

“Is he conscious?”

“Hallucinating, more likely. He keeps muttering in what sounds like Chinese. We’re taping it for the linguists when we return.”

“Very well. The medical ward will remain on standby and will accept the wounded.” She glanced at the Possibles out of the corner of her eye. They had not reacted. “Upload all bulk data for processing and power down all non-essential tracking equipment… we do not want the Pentagon calling us again, do we?” The joke served no other purpose than to keep her throat open.

“No, Ma’am.” Betty knew that, with those words, the Field Commander would systematically begin to close down the tools most recently used to find their young knight errant, a mere slip of a girl with an indomitable will that had repeatedly proven to all of them just how vast were the limits of the human spirit.

In an effort to evade that moment when she must face the Possibles and verbalize what they all were thinking, Dr. Director turned instead to the displays monitoring the reading from the hover sleds of her search team. With a distinct lack of human spirit first one and then another set of readings would flatline and become dormant on the control panel regulated to that specific task. Please let this day end, she thought. Just one last set of displays to go and… just one last display to be closed down and…

A particular display had not ceased transmitting. She called out her inquiry to the overhead microphones.

“Hedges?” Too heartsick to be curious, her tone was dead. She received no reply other than an urgent flurry of unintelligible mutterings and this only served to spark her annoyance.

“Special Agent Hedges, you have your orders. You have now powered down all…”

“Ma’am, we… that is, I…”

One eye blinked and two ears heard a collective gasp from the other agents in the room. That man out there commanding the field team was never at a loss for words and NEVER would have interrupted a superior officer. Something had to be very, very wrong out there. Betty did her best to ignore the presence of the civilians in the room and selected her next words carefully.

“Special Agent Hedges, is there anything that you wish to add to your report?”

They all waited, most with the sick feeling of having just survived a train wreck.

“Ma’am… a spike was recorded when the tracking scanner was deactivated.”

No. Please, no. Just let this end.

“Need I remind you, Special Agent Hedges, that all Global Justice technology cycles through an automatic recalibration upon shutdown?”

“No, Ma’am.” Even the stereophonic speakers high above her head managed to drain the emotion from her agent’s voice. Betty pushed away the nagging feeling of hope that ran across her consciousness; she knew well that hope could be just as painful as despair. Still…

“Do you feel that investigating the possible source of this… phantom… transmission is warranted?”

“Ma’am, the frequency was similar even if the proximity and vector were off…”

“And you still want to check it?” This was the ultimate test. Her agent was far too by-the-book to stick with something he wasn’t confident in.

“Yes, Ma’am. My team and I request permission to confirm a possible source of the spike.”

God forgive me for engendering false hope. Maybe that should be added as a Commandment.

“Check it out and report back. Quickly.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Some life had returned to the man’s voice.

Betty Director turned away, even though the communication system at the command center made her movement unnecessary. She scanned the faces of her agents with her single eye and knew that they were just as torn as she was, frozen with anticipation. This would not do. Years of training and responsibility had taught her that if you can’t give people hope, at least give them something to do.

“Ladies and gentlemen, by the ticking of my watch and the motions of this Earth through the Heavens I presume that time has not stopped and that the World has not come to an end. There is work to be done and I expect within the next two seconds to see evidence that it is BLOODY WELL BEING DONE!” She didn’t need to look around to know that all of her agents had already started moving with haste, well before she’d started to raise her voice.

The unexpected smell of coffee beside her brought her around to find Edward Lipsky standing nearby. He was holding out a seaming cup to her. She didn’t make eye contact but she accepted the cup and nodded; this was apparently enough for him because he moved back to where the Possibles held each other in silence. The feeling of expectation in the room was palpable.

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Wade sat in darkness. The sky just outside his bedroom window was already taking on the silvery glisten of pre-dawn light but the room itself had never before been as dark as it was now; no less than six computer monitors glowed around him and his desk lamp was still on but his young eyes were as clouded and he could see nothing. Nothing could pierce the shroud of despair that settled over him. His Kim was gone.

He had known this from the moment that her sub-dermal transponder had ceased to function. It had been child’s play to hack into the broadcasts between the Middleton continent of ‘GJ’ and the small flotilla of hover sleds; Wade almost considered the time and efforts needed to do so a waste of his capabilities. He had heard every word and had seen every image on their cameras. Global Justice had never known that he had also been watching Kim’s lifeline in the form of the signal from the transponder he’d implanted for her years ago. It was their secret, this tiny device, powered by the chemical processes and electrical field of Kim’s own body. The signal had been erratic ever since Kim had become ill but at least it was there, live on his screens whenever he needed reinforcement that she lived and breathed.

Only moments ago that signal had stopped and a large chunk of Wade Load had died along with her.

For a boy that had only left his family’s house in less times than the number of fingers on his nimble hands and in as many years, his world was vast. Data and information was his to command, dancing to his tune and letting him see all of the world at its worst and best. His self-imposed blindness was because, for all his lauded brilliance, he could not save the one person that had given him the semblance of a normal life.

Few people knew the circumstances under which Kim and Wade first met. Hubris and youthful curiosity had led his technological reach to exceed his inexperienced grasp while Kim Possible had been on a mission to discover who was hacking the research and development databanks of a well-known computer gaming company. With no other incentive than ‘because it was there’, Wade’s progress through the systems had been noticed and the company had asked a girl with a penchant for fighting crime to learn who was delving into their secrets.

Needless to say, when a young white girl crashed through an even younger black boy’s bedroom window, it had not exactly been love at first sight.

Armed with nothing more than a broom and a cell phone, Mrs. Load had burst through her son’s door and held an embarrassed and tearfully apologetic Kim at bay while a frightened and catatonic Wade lay curled into a ball beneath his computer desk. The Drs. P. had been quick to arrive at the modest home of the Load family and were so mortified at the actions of their daughter that it was only after their assurances of full reparations for the broken window and full coverage of any medical or psychological treatment for her son and a life-long grounding of their child did Mrs. Load agree not to call the police or file a lawsuit. Wade was almost taken to Middleton General for observation but his mother changed her mind when her agoraphobic son eventually unfolded himself and asked her what had happened; his fright had been so severe that he didn’t recall much of what had happened.

It was a week into her grounding that Kim asked her parents to contact Mrs. Load and beg for a chance to apologize to Wade in person for her actions. It was five weeks before Wade could even think about such a meeting without trembling that he asked his mother to agree to Kim’s request. The Load family had since learned the full details of the sitch and while the adults agreed that a little too much childish exuberance on both sides had been the ultimate cause, their respective offspring seemed to have learned from the experience and it was time to mend their figurative fences.

Mrs. Load had welcomed Kim Possible into her home and had fixed a lunch for the two youngsters to share, with Wade barely coming downstairs to eat it. It was nothing personal against Kim as the boy was far too intelligent to hold a grudge, but having a stranger in the house was something else entirely. The woman kept her distance and was grateful to hear the first of several tentative words spoken between the two.

The rest, as they say, was history. When her grounding ended after only two months and her parents agreed to allow her to resume her adventures, Kim’s first action was to recruit Wade Load as her technological support. He readily agreed, even going as far as joking that maybe with his assistance he could prevent another mishap like the one that brought them together. With his roster of friends increased by one hundred percent, Wade soon learned that the human element could be far more rewarding than anything that his machines could provide. Once Ron Stoppable and Rufus had expanded Wade’s circle of friends to three, the young boy believed his new life as a member of Team Possible to be compete.

Now Kim was dead and Ron was wounded, perhaps mortally. Rufus was missing and… Shego…

Wade stood and began to turn off everything at his workstation. Every monitor, every CPU and every external drive and printer was shut down and deactivated. When he was finished Wade shuffled his feet as he walked to his bed and, hanging his robe over the bedpost, he climbed up and slid under the covers and did his best to shut down his brain.

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Drew awoke and glanced around the room in mild irritation. It wasn’t uncommon for the doctors and other assorted med-techs of Global Justice to enter his room while he was asleep and give him his medications or ask for a blood sample. The asking was a mere formality because he really had no choice in the matter. As it was, the room was empty. Something had awoken him, though, and he waited to see if whatever it had been would happen again. It did.

Someone was running down the hallway outside his door, several people in fact. He heard voices both loud and muffled and even a few sobs. He also heard normal conversation among people who were NOT running past his door; this led him to the conclusion that while something apparently bad had happened somewhere it was either not happening here or that it did not affect Global Justice as an organizational entity.

The blue man stood up from the bed and moved as close to the door as his cable tether, his leash, would allow. He closed his eyes and absorbed what few coherent words that were audible to him. After just a few seconds of careful sifting through the mutterings he learned what was going on.

This was the rumor mill and the grist was that Kim Possible was dead.

He remained standing for just a few more seconds before smiling and shaking his head. Drew Lipsky returned to the bed and this time he chose to kick off his sneakers before making himself comfortable. Reaching up and back he clasped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, the smile still on his face.

“Not likely.” With that, he returned to sleep.

88888888

If the Middleton sheriff’s patrol had been driving down a particular lane that morning, the officer on duty might have wondered why a bright orange Volkswagen ‘Thing’ would be idling in front of an apartment building so early in the morning. The sun would be up in an hour or so and the street was mostly deserted except for that one distinctive vehicle. Even more unusual was the fact that there was a young woman sitting behind the wheel and she hadn’t moved in several minutes. This was starting to worry one of her passengers to no end.

And that passenger wasn’t even human. Rufus crawled across from the front seat and into the lap of Bonnie Rockwaller. He saw that her eyes were almost closed and that her breathing was shallow.

“hay!”

Other than a soft snore there was no reaction.

“wayk hup!” He climbed up her side and onto her shoulder. Rufus cupped his tiny paws around his mouth and hollered into her ear. “rizenshyne!”

Still nothing. Ok, time to play dirty. The naked mole rat leapt from the sleeping young woman to the simple dashboard and perched on the rim of the steering wheel.

“sayl et da maul!” He bounced up and down. “ehvy’ting muss goh!”

“Sale?! Where??” Bonnie was awake in a flash and stared around blindly. Rufus stopped moving and waited for her to regain her senses. Bonnie blinked rapidly and by the time she was able to focus on her partner she had remembered where she was and what was going on. She arched her back and stretched, momentarily drawing the naked mole rat’s attention to her full breasts.

“… dayum…”

“Hm? What?”

“nuttin!” Rufus shook his head clear of inappropriate thoughts as the human massaged the kinks from her neck.

“Ow… I fell asleep, huh?”

“yup!” Rufus nodded, patient. Bonnie looked around.

“Was I out long?”

“noop!”

Bonnie nodded back at him and unfastened her seatbelt; she twisted around until she could see the two little pale green faces of Kasy Ann and Sheki Go Possible, both fast asleep in their carriers. The young woman turned back and squinted at the clock on the dashboard. She still felt groggy but was pretty certain that Rufus was correct that they she had only been snoozing for a short time.

“Guess I’d better get this show on the road.”

She cut the engine and opened her door. Careful not to wake the babies, she ever so gently lifted each carrier and set then down on the cold macadam while she locked up the vehicle. Running more on autopilot than anything else, she did have the presence of mind to grab her purse. Still, she was so tired that she almost shut the car door on one small rodent who had lingered behind to pull something out of a storage compartment. Bonnie marched towards the façade of the apartment building and Rufus struggled to catch up.

The main door was unlocked; security relied on each resident keeping their doors locked so Bonnie was able to enter freely and she walked to the elevators at the mid-point of the central hall. Once again, Rufus scampered as fast as he could to make it through the door before it closed. He wasn’t fast enough, unfortunately, to match the pace of those long and shapely legs as Bonnie reached the elevator doors first and had already depressed the ascend button. The weight of his cumbersome and jingling burden made him lag behind just enough to miss his chance at catching his ride; the doors were already sliding closed.

Bonnie didn’t notice his absence or to hear the dull THUD against the metal doors when he failed to stop in time. This was inadvertent and wholly unintentional as she did have feelings of affection for the animal and fully realized that, whatever else he might be, he knew a Hell of a lot more about this kind of sitch than she did. There had been just too much terror and action in one day for the young woman to take and she was starting to lose her fight against exhaustion.

Rufus rubbed briefly at his bruised head and swung the item he was carrying over his shoulder before turning towards the stairwell.

Bonnie reached the correct floor in no time and walked to the apartment door as quickly as she could without waking the twins. Setting them down in the middle of the well-lit hallway, she faced the door and grabbed the knob. It refused to turn.

The door was locked. Of course it was locked. Geez, I am so tired, she mused. I could sleep for a month. Bonnie started to reach into her purse… and she froze.

She felt that deadly chill that immediately strikes us all when we suddenly realize that something terrible has just occurred, something that we would do anything to change or take back. The kind of realization that breaks time into what is happening to you NOW versus everything that happened BEFORE.

She didn’t have a key, she never had.

She’d never gotten one from Ron before the start of their mission, hours ago. He hadn’t mentioned it and she hadn’t thought to ask. Her heart would not beat and she found herself staring at the locked door as if she would gain the ability to see through it. Sanctuary was waiting just two inches through the door and it might as well have been a million miles away. Whether or not Ron had been successful, he sure as shit wasn’t here now and Bonnie didn’t know where the Possibles were. They might be looking after their sons but that wasn’t certain and the tanned young woman couldn’t think of any other options. She was alone, this had been her responsibility, her mission, and she had just failed in the simplest and most spectacular way.

After several seconds of not breathing, her body took control and this initiated a flurry of manic action; just to be certain Bonnie forced open her purse and emptied the contents onto the carpet. She searched the pile and tossed things aside until she knew there was no key there. There was a mat under her knees, friendly and predictably welcoming, that Kim had probably selected. Bonnie ripped it up to see if there was a key. There wasn’t.

She staggered to her feet and systematically began checking every ledge, every nook and cranny in the lighted hallway. She searched under potted plants and above light fixtures and in each and every corner for some sign that Kim or Shego had a key hidden somewhere. If she hadn’t been so exhausted Bonnie might have made a little more noise; as it was she was fortunate that some other resident didn’t hear her and call the police. This scenario never entered her mind, however, and she started to feel as if the ground was falling out from beneath her feet.

There was a faint squeal of hinges and the stairwell door opened one… two… three inches to admit a staggering and heaving naked mole rat. He squinted with weak eyes and noticed the antics of the human which he sought.

She stopped her examinations only when tearing eyes made her vision too blurry to search anymore. The sobs that she had been so successful in keeping down were now able to force their way up and out through her mouth; Bonnie hadn’t even been aware that she had been crying for five minutes. Just barely able to find her way back to the Possible’s door, and only from the mound of familiar items that looked suspiciously like the kind of stuff that she usually kept in her purse, she fell back against the door and let her legs give out. Bonnie slid down the surface of the door and crumpled on the welcome mat.

“… weez…”

She’d failed again. Ron shouldn’t have trusted her with this.

“…pant…”

Why had Kim been so friendly towards her? Why had Shego welcomed her in? They must have known Bonnie would fail them, utterly. An image formed in her mind, unbidden, a mental snapshot of a tiny, perfect face that would never age and it was recalled in sharp detail.

“… gasp…”

Just like I failed you… my little man…

“… sik aza dahg…”

The image suddenly faded when she noticed something small and pink moving closer to her. Bonnie looked up and watched in shock as Rufus limped over to where she sat and dropped to the carpeted floor, rolling over onto his back as dry heaves wracked his small body. He raised his paw and a shiny prize was held aloft as if it were Excalibur just pulled free from its stone.

“… gunna vomut…”

“Oh…!”

“… ta-da…”

“You have a KEY! Oh, Rufus!” She crawled the few feet that separated them on her hands and knees and gently lifted the key from his paw. Rufus was insensate after having spoken and she instantly felt how overheated he was. Clawing at the items she’d dumped from her purse, Bonnie managed to locate a tissue and dabbed at the sweat that covered the twitching form, blowing across him to facilitate faster drying and cool him down.

She knew this wasn’t enough; the little beast would need more care and attention and he would need to be kept from cooling down too much. Having neither pockets to carry the unconscious animal in nor time to lose, Bonnie secured Rufus in the most convenient location available to her and hurriedly scooped the loose articles up from the mat and back into her purse. With a silent cry of victory, the young woman rammed the key home and unlocked the door to the apartment.

As careful as before, she lifted the infants and brought them inside with her. She used only her elbow to flip the nearby light switch and inspected the living and dining area that the overhead light shone to illuminate. She passed through these and made her way to the kitchen. Turning on the light to that room also, she set the baby carriers up on the table and gave the girls a quick but overdue inspection. Bonnie’s maternal instincts had never lessened; her inspection was thorough and they never fussed even once. Finished, she reviewed the reason why she had chosen to come here.

There would be items here, articles of clothing, maybe even food or medicines, that she knew her former classmate would have well-organized and Bonnie understood that she would need if she must have these things if she was going to keep the girls with her for an indeterminate amount of time. Just until she was able to make contact with the Possibles or even Ron or Shego if the sitch back at the fuel depot had been successfully resolved. Pursing her lips and huffing in frustration, she admitted that she would be able to move faster if she weren’t lugging the children around with every step. Taking the risk, she turned the girls away from the ceiling lamp and made a beeline for the girls’ room.

Rufus awoke from his brief period of discontinuity to find himself nestled between two soft but firm… somethings. He wasn’t at all certain where he was but from his vantage point he noticed that he was several feet above the floor and moving through the rooms of the apartment belonging to The Beloved KP and The Mighty Shego. He was almost as warm as when he would travel inside of The Almighty Ron’s trouser pocket but the cushiony orbs to his right and left were definitely bare flesh. Looking up he saw the underside of Bonnie’s chin and suddenly realized where he was. His beady eyes popped wide and three thoughts shot through his head.

Wow.

The Beloved KP doesn’t have anything like THESE.

These humans are weird. He ceased to ponder the issue and let the warm jostling coax him back to sleep.

Bonnie had been very successful in a very short amount of time; diaper bag that also held powders and ointments, a satchel with teething rings and pacifiers and even an insulated compartment that would hold a bottle or two, not to mention a change of clothing in the form of two clean one-piece rompers that she was able to stuff into the diaper bag.

The word ‘Booyah’ came to mind and Bonnie grinned. Things were looking up.

A mild growl from somewhere below her line of sight gave her pause and she wondered if Rufus was awake. Looking down, she saw that he was still out like a light. She didn’t have to wait long before the sound repeated and this time it was accompanied by a fluttering in her belly. With a rueful smirk Bonnie admitted that she couldn’t say when she had last eaten; she returned to the kitchen and the sleeping infants.

Making sure that they were still safe and sound, the next thing she did was to carefully remove the sleeping Rufus from her shirt and wrap him in a linen napkin, one of several stacked next to the salt, pepper and other condiments at the center of the table. That done, Bonnie walked over to the refrigerator and cracked the seal on the door… and her mouth dropped open.

“Cripes! Look at all the junk food!”

Kim had always avoided junk food when they’d been classmates together so she surmised that it belonged to Shego. Maybe the plasma burns off calories, she wondered. In no time, Bonnie had managed to scrounge the materials necessary to fabricate a reasonably acceptable sandwich… ham, onions, mustard and cheese. That, and a glass of apple juice. The smile came quickly to her lips as she thought, looking down at her plate, how there had been a time when she wouldn’t have even THOUGHT about eating something as gauche as this.

“What will the girls on the squad think?” She giggled. Bonnie Rockwaller was getting punchy and exhaustion was setting in.

She started to shake just as she sat down at the kitchen table. She had been on the go for hours now and with hardly any rest except for the catnap in the car down at the curb outside. Surely she could take a few minutes to rest her legs and back and refuel a little? Taking another glimpse at the sleeping children, Bonnie ripped into her sandwich. She also looked at the clock high up on the wall and ruminated that, a few years before, she would have been getting up for school right about now. The room was warm and quiet and she was tired, so tired, that even with the joy of Rufus bringing her the key and the clean escape she’d made from the fuel depot and, best of all, the way she and Ron had rescued the babies, the weariness slowly took control of her mind and body.

She didn’t realize that she had completely forgotten her sandwich after only three bites, or that she hadn’t taken more than one sip from her juice. Her right eyelid became like lead and would not stay open while her left eye became fixed on nothing in particular.

Bonnie’s head lowered onto the cool Formica of the table in front of her and she slipped deeply into slumber.

88888888

The silver glow of predawn was more than enough light for Agent Benson to avoid tripping and falling into the silt along the banks of the Middleton River. He had been the first one to exit the hover sled when the team had reached the approximate area where that phantom signal, that possibly random transmission spike, could have come from. While the agent with the most medical training remained behind to care for their unconscious passengers, the others radiated outward in a search pattern to see what they could find.

The remains of a hundred thousand dead things awaited them along the bank and near some abandoned pilings and inside of some disused drainage pipes…

Agent Benson froze. Kneeling down he closely inspected one of those pipes and noticed that for all of the filth and debris there was an unusual amount of disturbance to the silt and mud when compared to the other pipes. Grabbing the rim of the pipe and pulling himself up, he gauged the source direction of the pipe from where it breached up through the soil further back from the water’s edge.

The pipe could have come from the fuel depot; the fires still raged while distant emergency rescue teams struggled to contain the blaze. Benson reached a conclusion.

“Sir!”

Hedges singled his man out from the rest and walked closer.

“Status, Agent Benson.”

“Sir, look.” He pointed to the pipe and the freshly disturbed mud. Hedges knew in a flash what his man was intimating but he was far too pragmatic.

“Animals.”

“The marks are too deep, sir. It was heavier than a dog or anything. It had to be human!”

“Agent Benson, maintain your composure.” The Special Agent dropped down and made his own inspection. “Human, maybe. Could have been a homeless person.”

“Sir?”

Both agents turned to see a third operative run up to them; Benson sidled away when it became obvious that she was here to talk to Hedges. The field commander and senior operative gave the young agent his full attention.

“Yes?”

“Sir, the boy is talking again.”

“More Chinese?”

“It’s English this time, but rambling.” She seemed to be at a loss. “He keeps muttering something about a bunny and a Rottweiler.” The female operative frowned. “We don’t know what it means.”

“More likely he’s referring to Bonnie Rockwaller.” Hedged looked at his watch. “She was attacked by the target yesterday at the Possible residence along with the target’s twin brothers.” There was no point in reminding anyone that the target herself did the attacking.

“Oh. Then the rest of it makes sense.”

“Meaning?”

“Apparently he gave the little girls to her. This Bonnie Rockwaller.”

“We can only hope so.”

“It’s the only other thing that he said that made sense.”

“Did he give any indication where she was?”

“Nothing like that, sir, no.”

“Hm.”

“Should I report that back to base, sir?”

No answer but raised eyebrows; she nodded in acknowledgement.

“I suppose that every cloud has a silver lining, doesn’t it?”

“Hm.” He nodded a dismissal and the agent walked away. Hedges glanced at his watch again so Benson stepped up and tried a new tactic.

“What exactly are these pipes, sir?”

“Possibly sump pumps for the depot. The whole area around the river is marshy.”

“What I’m saying is that if the structure was collapsing…”

“… and she didn’t combust immediately from the intense heat or crumble to a cinder before hitting the concrete below AND if she just happened to fall into one of these pipes AND if she were whole and intact enough to crawl over half a mile to the river…” Hedges fought not to embrace the fantasy; the girl was dead. “Resume your search, Agent Benson. In five more minutes we’re returning to base.”

“But, sir!”

“Five. More. Minutes. That’s an order.” Hedges turned his back on the subordinate and walked towards another cluster of agents. Benson was too good of an operative to disobey a direct order so he did resume his search by attempting to discern a path or purpose to the rents in the muddy silt.

If it had been a human being that had made the marks it had been small and not very heavy; all the more evidence to support his theory; if a person that size and shape were dragging themselves, the marks might just be similar. Benson followed what trail he thought he’d found until he ran out of land at the bank of the Middleton River. Eventually he ran out of time, too.

“Time! Return to the hover sled and stow your gear, we are returning to base.” Hedges pivoted around to make sure that all his operatives were on the move. All were, with one exception.

“Benson. Let’s go.”

Benson cursed and spat at the ground. There was nothing to work with here but more mud and soiled rags and…

Something glittered at his foot that wasn’t flotsam or jetsam. He stooped to pick it up.

“Agent Benson! We are leaving NOW!”

Benson repressed his grin and raised the tiny object high over his head.

“Sir! I think you’re going to want to see this!”

88888888

There was someone in his room!

Wade Load was sure that he’d been sound asleep but now he was wide awake and just KNEW that he was being watched. His heart hammered inside his chest to imagine that somebody had violated his room, his sanctum sanctorum. Turning off his machines would have no effect on the security measures he’d installed years ago… but right now he had that feeling that most prey feels just before the predator strikes.

Pulling the covers down ever so slightly, he let his eyes acclimate to the faint light bleeding in through his curtains. It was almost dawn but you wouldn’t have known it; what light there was came from a street lamp near the house. The wall with his bookcases and the door seemed clear enough; taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, the boy rolled over and inspected the side of the room where the single window admitted the meager light. This, too, looked safe and there weren’t enough shadows for an intruder to hide.

Wade knew that he would have to check the closet. That meant getting out of bed.

Confident that there was nothing dangerous within the main area of the bedroom, he quietly pulled his sheets and blanket away and swung his legs out onto the floor. Reaching for the only weapon that his loving mother would allow him to keep in his room, Wade acknowledged that he had her to thank for his confidence that there could be nothing actually hiding under the bed.

Wade Load had been three years old when he had presented his mother with a diagram and reams of notes detailing a machine that would monitor for and prevent monsters from hiding beneath his bed and feasting upon him while he slept. Knowing that her son was special in more ways than one, she listened patiently to his brilliant but childish presentation and explained that such a machine would cost thousands of dollars that the Wade family simply did not have. Little Wade hadn’t pouted and claimed that he understood but the woman knew that her amazing boy would always fear the things that go bump in the night if there was a chance that one of them could grab his foot and yank him down from the bed.

Ever a practical woman, she invested less than ten dollars in a new handsaw and she and her son made an event out of sawing the legs off his bed. He couldn’t help but smile ruefully as he raised the Whiffle Bat higher and marched across the room.

Motion and a change in the light once he was halfway to the closet make him freeze. There was a sound, too, and it was several seconds before he was also to see that the play of lamp light through the branches of the tree outside his window were causing the shadows to shift and dance, just as the wind was causing the bows to scrape against the panes. As soon as his breathing was under his control again Wade traversed the few remaining steps to the far wall and his target; the closet door was shut and the light switch mounted on the wall to the left was still in the down position.

Of course he knew that the closet light was out or he would have clearly seen light shining from the bottom edge of the door. He listed the actions that he must take sharply in his brain and started a brisk countdown from three… two… one…

Wade flipped the switch and a blade of light shone across his floor. He wrenched the door open and kicked it wide. He swung the Whiffle Bat blindly into the tiny room. He opened his eyes at the sound of plastic impacting against cloth and knew that his trousers would never again threaten anyone. There was nothing in the closet that shouldn’t have already been there. He could see the back wall behind the hanging clothes and unless an intruder was small enough to fit within a shoebox the floor inside was safe as well.

His heart was pounding again. Even though it had only been a few minutes ago that he had awoken, the adrenaline was already coursing through his veins and he felt like he might throw up at any second. He wondered if Kim or Ron had ever felt like this while on a mission and decided that they probably never had.

As if I needed to deal with a Boogeyman problem tonight, this of ALL nights. Wade raised the bat again and thrust a few idle pokes into the hanging clothes and, satisfied that he had searched every corner of his room, switched off the closet light and turned to shuffle back to his warm bed.

The movement and sounds from outside again. He glanced toward the window with almost careless disregard.

The panes exploded inward and shards of glass flew everywhere as a dark shape burst through. It was compact and struck the boy like a cannonball, but it unfolded into a tangle of arms and legs even as he lost his footing and backpedaled, unable to remain standing and ultimately falling down onto his back with a thunderous crash that drove the breath from his body. Wade lay stunned, all circuits busy as it were. It took a second before the impact-induced fog could lift and he could register his situation.

It crouched on him, both feet resting firmly on his flabby chest and he could feel the thing shifting to keep its balance. It breathed and he could smell the stench of rot and decay; it moved and he could hear a faint… squishing noise, as if it were filthy with something viscous and slimy.

It spoke and he recognized the voice.

“Boo.”

The mouth was invisible to him in the darkness but he knew it must be there because after speaking the ragged head turned away and evacuated something wet onto his floor. He knew this without seeing because he heard the retching, heard the splatter and smelled the same sweet rot of bile and pus and something else not of the human condition.

He last thing Wade saw before fainting dead away were two fiery green eyes that radiated hatred down at him.

88888888

“And you are certain?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Absolutely certain?”

“Yes. Absolutely, Ma’am!”

Dr. Betty Director drew a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Are we talking about Benson certain or Hedges certain?”

Miles away, Hedges knew what she was asking. So did his subordinate who was standing next to him and neither man minded in the least. Benson grinned wirily even though it was Hedges responsibility to respond.

“Hedges certain, Ma’am.”

“Understood.” That’s what she had been half afraid of. “Bring the team in for refueling and a full debriefing. We will consider our next course of action afterward.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” The transmission ended and the line went dead.

Betty lowered the receiver and turned to face the others. When one of her aides had approached her with a message that Special Agent Hedges was calling for her on a private line she hadn’t dared to speculate on the matter. The man had wasted no time, however, in telling her what his team had located in the course of their search. Now she had to tell her people. The woman kept her arms straight against her sides and tilted her chin slightly upwards; she faced a mid-point between the floor level and the upper mezzanine of operatives and their computer arrays.

Turning her head neither left nor right, she spoke loud enough for all to hear.

“Ladies and gentlemen… the evidence previously obtained that supported the incontrovertible irretrievability of our girl has, as of this moment, been brought into question. This does NOT necessarily mean that she is alive.” Dr. Director had heard the initial murmurings of success and she knew that she must squelch them now. “Instead, we are left with an even larger quandary than before.” She pivoted and made a subtle inspection of the room. All eyes were on her.

“Our field team has located a sub-dermal transponder along the banks of the Middleton River, intact other than apparently having been removed from its carrier using decidedly non-surgical techniques, and certain elements of the location lend credence to support the continued survival of our target.” There was no need to explain that the tiny device had shown visible traces of pitch. “Our field team is returning to base…” She glanced to one of her operatives, a young man responsible for tracking the location and movements of the field team; he nodded in affirmation and voiced his answer to her unspoken question.

“ETA ten minutes, Ma’am.”

She nodded back.

“… where they will relinquish the wounded members of Team Possible, namely Ronald Stoppable and Shego, into the care of our medical team before continuing their search.” Refusing to give in to hope, she waited. When the whispers subsided, she continued.

“Our girl is still out there.”

The agents waited for the inevitable order.

“Carry on.”

And they did, each imbued with a newfound energy that Dr. Betty Director herself was afraid to feel. Too many times had she let hope carry her just as far as another crisis, another reason for despair. Turning to address the only civilians in the room, Betty was surprised to see the brawny arms of Motor Ed wrapped around the embracing forms of both John and Anne Possible. She was even more surprised to see them expressing their gratitude towards the large man as if he were an old family friend instead of a foe of their daughter.

Maybe I restrain in my hope so that they can express theirs.

Edward Lipsky looked over at her and winked. She would have winked back except that to do so would have felt out of place in this militant environ, also that she didn’t feel quite so comfortable around him yet and furthermore… the man had never been around her long enough to know what a one-eyes wink looked like; hers was a subtle furrowing of the brow above her felt patch. Most of the seasoned agents would have recognized it but she decided against the gesture under the circumstances.

But her comfort level was increasing ever so slowly where Edward Lipsky was concerned. She appreciated his unsolicited support and assistance but now she needed to have a few words with the Possibles on her own.

“John… Anne…” Betty strolled closer now that her agents were back to their assigned tasks; she waited until she was close enough to speak privately before saying more. “There is little need for you to remain here. We have dispatched our metropolitan team to comb Middleton for Ms. Rockwaller and your grandchildren.” She shrugged. “They have yet to report anything.”

“What makes to so sure that Bonnie has the girls?” John Possible stroked his wife’s hair in a way that meant he probably wasn’t aware that he was doing it.

“Because it was one of the few coherent things that we could get out of Ronald Stoppable when he was being treated by my field team.”

Anne Possible straightened and her instincts as a healer came to the fore.

“John, I should go back to the medical ward.” She kissed her husband. “We’ll all need to keep ready if they locate Kim. That, and I can help with Ronald and…” She closed her eyes and frowned. “And Shego.”

“I understand.” His reciprocation of her kiss had been as strong as the day they were pronounced man and wife. “Eddie and I should be getting back to the research and development bay.” He held still while the slender redhead gently slid from his lap and waited until she’d found her own feet before standing. “We all need to get back to work so that we can be prepared.”

“Dude.” Eddie had moved back a little to give the couple breathing room. “I’ll just go on down and get the tech guys ready for another test. Seriously. You two can, uh…” The big man ran a hand nervously through his mullet and John let him off the hook with a tired smile.

“Thanks, Ed. Tell the men I’ll be right down.”

“Cool! Seriously!” Grinning as if he had just solved all the world’s problems, Motor Ed gave a polite thumbs-up and backed away. Betty watched him leave before turning back to the Possibles.

“I share your sentiments, John. We must all keep busy and vigilant right now.” She clasped her hands together. “I also have a few new decisions to review and plans to revise now that the search has resumed. So, if you both will excuse me…” They understood and were nodding at her when she paused, a minor detail of this misadventure bubbled up to the surface of her consciousness. “One more thing… we are having Middleton General Hospital transport Jim and Tim to this location so that we can care for them here. You may want to visit them before you return to your respective tasks.”

She was met with a matching pair of blank looks.

“The boys? Why?” Anne Possible cocked an eyebrow at the uniformed woman. “What’s wrong with the boys?”

“Anne? I thought that the boys were at home.” John Possible looked from one woman to the other in puzzlement. “Did something happen after Kim and Shego took the girls?”

Dr. Director froze. A feeling of timelessness that Bonnie Rockwaller would have sympathized with crept over her. Shit, she realized, I never told them about the attack on their sons. Or that Kim was the one who attacked them. I only told them what their sons reported to us after the attack… that Shego had brought the ailing Kim to the house after breaking the young woman out of ‘GJ’, had collected the babies and then left for parts unknown.

That had been all.

Nuts. Betty sighed and reached out towards a technician seated at a nearby control panel. Under the puzzled stares of the Drs. Possible she rested her hand on his shoulder and got his attention.

“Please have a small, squad of our local security report to central command. Have a med-tech accompany them, as well.” She thought for a moment. “Have them prepared to treat blunt force trauma and moderate abrasions.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“What was all that for?” Anne’s ire was unmistakable; she smelled a sitch and Dr. Director acknowledged which parent Kim had gotten her instincts from. Betty sighed again and mentally prepared to face the music.

“For me.” She faced them. “There is something that I failed to tell you, earlier.”

88888888

Bonnie Rockwaller awoke with a bad smell in her nostrils. She then became aware of pain in her neck; it didn’t take her long to realize that she had apparently fallen asleep sitting upright, just as she had in the car parked down at the curb outside. Here eyes were matted shut and this gave her a few seconds to acclimate to the bright lights of the kitchen while she wiped the gunk away. Her vision was still watery and she blinked several times to let it clear, keeping her head down to both avoid being blinded and also because her neck really did hurt. She had no way of knowing how long she had been out, at least not until she could manage to look up at the clock on the wall behind her.

None of this explained the bad smell.

Gingerly rolling her shoulders to loosen the muscles and tendons like she used to do to warm up before a game, Bonnie slowly lifted her head until she could see the first foot or so of the table closest to her. The babies were still in their carriers, resting on top of the table. Kasy was awake and gurgling happily at her while Sheki snoozed on. They looked as fine and healthy as they had been when she first got to the apartment.

Did either of them need changing? Was that the source of the stench? No one was crying, so maybe not. Not quite able to focus her vision yet, she forced her head up a little higher and noted that Rufus wasn’t where she’d left him; the napkin was there but the naked mole rat was gone. Bonnie lifted her head a little more.

There was a nightmare sitting across the table from Bonnie, eating her sandwich and holding the glass of apple juice.

“Hi, Bon-Bon.”

To Be Continued…

Author’s Note: Is this a cliffhanger? I’m never sure.