Kim Possible is a registered concubine of the dark emperor Walt, first son of the Disney dynasty.  I have secreted her and her sidekicks away on my underground freedom railroad (not to be confused with Harriet Tubman’s underground freedom railroad, which actually accomplished something socially laudable).  No money was harmed during the making of this fic.

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Kim Possible

The Power of Love

by Cyberwraith9

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        It had been a long, dangerous run, but Will had finally managed to get close to Killigan without getting blown up (and not for lack of trying on the golfer’s behalf).  He watched Killigan drop a handful of golf balls onto the floor even as he moved in for the kill.

        
        Killigan noticed the boy’s proximity, and figured out at the same time as Will that he wouldn’t have enough time to get another shot off.  Instead, he grabbed another club from his bag and began swinging them around.  Will screeched to a halt at the doubly-armed arms dealer, switching tactics.  “I warn you,” Will said, steeling his hands and his nerves, “I’m an expert in over nineteen different martial arts.”

        
        “I don’ know about that, laddie.” Killigan retorted with a mad gleam in his eye, “But I can swing a mean club!”  He took a couple swipes at Will to prove his point, nearly taking the young agent’s head clean off his shoulders.  “Let’s see if I can shave a few points off yer score, eh?” he laughed.

        
        Will ducked, diving for Killigan’s own bag of wares and pulled the first two clubs he could get his hands on.  “How about we not?” Will smiled, waving Duff’s own putter beneath his nose before blocking another strike from his assailant.

        
        “Ach, is tha’ the best y’can do?” Killigan moaned.  “You should take lessons in banter from the wee lassie.  At least she can carry off a proper retort!”

        
        Unfortunately for the golfer, Will was hardly interested in conversation.  He caught Killigan’s heel with the head of a driver, knocking the man to the floor.  Before Killigan could rise, Will had the putter at his throat.  “I’ll say it again, for your benefit.” Will said calmly.  “Surrender, or-”

        
        Pain exploded at the base of his skull, and a gaggle of stars flooded his vision before he could finish arresting Killigan.  He dropped to his knees, drifting into blissful unconsciousness as the golfer’s maniacal laughter filled his ears.

        
        Killigan stood up and brushed himself off, grinning at the young man who stood behind Will’s now-still form.  Dressed in designer clothes and wielding a bent metal shaft, Señor Senior Junior returned the golfer’s grin.  “I did all right, yes?” he asked smugly.

        
        “Bang-up job, lad.” Killigan slapped him on the shoulder.  “But what did yeh use to…” he trailed off, spying the metal rod up close.  “ACH!  Is that me NINE IRON?”

        
        “I got it from your bag of tricks.” Junior shrugged, tossing the ruined club aside.  “Will that be a problem?” he asked, watching Killigan spit and fume.

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        Ron blocked paw after hairy paw, watching Monkey Fist’s ire grow with each miss.  “Wha’sa matter, Monkey Face?  Don’t like the new Ron?”

        
        “On the contrary,” Fist snarled, trying unsuccessfully to sweep Ron’s legs out from underneath him.  “I didn’t believe Drakken when he said you had become a real threat.  Now I’m rather looking forward to breaking you!”

        
        He watched the villain dive for his feet, and leapfrogged over his hairy back to avoid the shot.  “Keep dreamin’, bud.”  For Ron, this sort of exercise was nothing new to him; Sensei had provided him with plenty of challenges that were much harder than this.

        
        But something still didn’t sit right.  Sometimes the path to victory is not the one laid out before you, the wise old man’s voice rang in his ears.  Rather, you must constantly search for the right path, and not grow complacent on one.

        
        ‘Now what did he mean by that?’ Ron wondered silently as he side-stepped another of Monkey Fist’s bull-rushes.  As he turned, he suddenly caught sight of his best friend in a full-out melee with four other baddies.  ‘Oh man,’ he screamed mentally, ‘I forgot about Kim!’

        
        “Hold on, KP!” he cried, rushing forward.  He had come to about halfway between them when Junior stepped out of the woodwork, lunging in front of Ron and blocking him from his friend.  “Junior?!?”

        
        “Have you not heard?” Junior grinned, kicking at Ron’s head.  The sidekick narrowly dodged the shot, and had to keep on the move as Monkey Fist struck at his back.  “We have formed a fantastic team of villainy!”

        
        Kim heard Ron call out to her, but she was too busy to see if he needed help.  She had her hands full trying to avoid the foursome out for her blood at the moment, and it was proving increasingly difficult.  Every time she managed to avoid one, the other three would close in, reducing her breathing space little by little.  If she didn’t think of something quick, she was going to be trapped in no time.

        
        A flash of green above her warned Kim just in time to catch Shego by the wrists, holding the woman’s glowing gloves just above her head.  Shego, caught behind Kim and unable to break the teen’s grip, pressed down as hard as she could.  Gravity was on her side, and the gloves lowered towards the heroine slowly but surely.

        
        Fear grabbed hold of Kim as she saw the three Knights close in on her from the front, even as Shego’s burning plasma began nipping at her scalp.  “You can’t win, Kimmie!” Shego taunted right in her ear, “There’s too many of us, and you don’t even have a weapon.”

        
        “Then permit me to borrow yours!”

        
        Kim grunted, suddenly re-directing her force and weight forward as Long raised his sword to strike.  Shego hadn’t been expecting the sudden shift, and was powerless to stop Kim as she used Shego’s Power Gloves to block Long’s fiery blade.  “Ow-ow-ow-hot-hot-hot-hot!” Shego screamed as she inadvertently caught hold of the sword, pitting plasma against plasma as the two forces struggled for supremacy.

        
        Spying an opportunity to gain the advantage, Kim lashed out with her foot, knocking Long’s flaming sword from his hand and high into the air.  She pushed forward further, slamming Shego’s lit gloves into Long’s armored chest.  The explosive blast of green plasma knocked the large, metallic man backwards into his allies.  Having finished with them, Kim brought her foot up and drove it straight back into Shego’s ribcage, slamming the villainess to the floor.

        
        “Now,” Kim sighed, brushing back her hair.  She struck a hand out nonchalantly, not even bothering to look as the hilt of Long’s sword fell into her waiting grip.  “Shall we try that again?”

        
        Long grimaced beneath his helm, stepping back as he allowed Falchion and Claymore to press a new attack.  However, with an equal weapon, Kim proved that she was more than a match for the expert swordsmanship of the Knights of Roddigan.  The tables were quickly turned on the two businessmen-turned-warriors as she drove them back, hoping to finish them quickly before Shego recovered.  With just a few swipes, she had split their swords in twain at the hilt, deactivating their devastating power and rendering them uselessly unlit.

        
        Kim watched the two warriors exchange glances, then take off running, their armored feet clanking against the cold floor as they hotfooted it down one of the darkened tunnels.  She turned, raising an eyebrow at Long.  The leader of the three merely bowed at the waist, then beat a hasty retreat himself.

        
        Ron caught sight of Kim’s recent victory from the corner of his eye, but he had bigger problems on hand with Junior going toe-to-toe with him, and Monkey Fist working his kidneys.  He managed to keep ahead of most of their blows, but the ones they did manage to land were starting to slow him down.

“What is the matter, Ron Stoppable?” Junior asked smugly, catching Ron across the jaw with a painful right-cross.  “Are you not impressed that I have been keeping up with my practices?  Father says my villainous ways have-”

A snarl of frustration escaped Ron’s gritted teeth as he caught Junior’s next attack, applying a crushing grip to the pompous rich boy’s wrist that cut him off with a squeak.  “Do you mind?” Ron asked angrily, sliding in along Junior’s arm until his shoulder was pressed into the larger man’s chest, “My arch foe and I are trying to have a grudge match here!”  Working purely from memory and hours of practice back at Yamanouchi, his fingers danced across several points of Junior’s torso, jabbing and twisting with exact pressure.

Junior tore away from his grasp, startled and confused.  “What are you…”  He trailed off as Ron’s magic suddenly took effect; Every muscle in his body froze, cramping so painfully that even the thought of movement made it hurt that much worse.  With a weak cry, the villainous son toppled to the ground, frozen in an awkward position of shock.

There was no time for self-congratulations as Monkey Fist smacked Ron in the back of the head with a hairy fist.  “He was only slowing me down anyway,” the genetic freak sneered as Ron reeled back.

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Will awoke in a haze of pain and confusion, blinking away the spots that swam in his blurry vision.  The world was tilted on its ear as he lay against the frigid metal deck, and with a few tries he found that he was somehow immobilized at the ankles and wrists, which were shoved painfully behind his back.

“So, lad,” Killigan’s voice shot smugly from somewhere above him, “How about we play a little game o’ Sudden Death?”

Will tried to respond, but much to his surprise, a large wad of cotton cloth stuffed in his mouth prevented him from telling the golfer exactly where he should go, and where he could stick his little game (hint; the first’s a biblical reference, and the second’s a locale of the human anatomy!).  Instead, he simply rolled over and glared at the hairy lunatic, trying desperately not to get a good look up his kilt.

“Wha?  No’ to your liking, Mr. Du?” Killigan laughed, tapping his driver next to Will’s head.  He pulled a small golf ball from his pocket with a digital readout on the side, depressing a small section with his thumb.  A set of numbers began counting down on the tiny screen as he leaned down, setting the ball on top of the gag stuffed in Will’s mouth.  “Well, I hope yeh don’ mind if I tee off anyhow.”

He swung the driver back as Will prepared to say farewell to his features, when a sharp cry of rage from Shego gave Killigan pause.  Looking up from his shot, he saw that most of the forces Drakken had hauled with them had been whittled down, leaving only that depraved monkey and the pasty wench to deal with the other brats while Drakken himself agonized over the missile’s controls.

“If you’ll excuse me, lad.” he said to Will, patting his cheek with the head of his driver, “I think I’m needed elsewhere.”  Raising a Scottish battle cry to his lips, Killigan raised his golf club high into the air and went charging straight for the other battle.

Left to his own devices, Will wasted a whole second to simply sweat nervously as he watched the numbers on the ball climb down towards zero.  Immediately, he twisted his head to the side, sending the golf ball tottering in one direction, and then started rolling like mad in the other.  He hadn’t gotten a really clear look, but he knew just what Killigan’s golf balls were capable of, and there weren’t all that many numbers left for the little orb to roll through.  He prayed there would be just enough as he continued flipping clumsily.

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Kim ducked beneath another of Shego’s plasma swipes, having long since abandoned Long’s ungainly sword in favor of her own agility.  The recovered sidekick’s heart was in it, but her body had taken quite a blow from Kim’s reverse kick, and her hands still burned.  The teen heroine had hoped to put Shego down soon enough to catch up with Drakken before the scientist did anything really’ stupid.  But all of those thoughts disappeared at the first sight of a glinting steel shaft being swung at her, wielded by none other than the world’s most infamous golfer.

She didn’t know where Will had gone to (‘Wasn’t he supposed to handle Killigan?’ she thought to herself), but she didn’t particularly care at the moment.  “Ron!” she cried.

“Kinda busy!” Ron shouted back, struggling against Monkey Fist’s iron grip that was reaching for his throat.

“You need to stop Drakken!”  She dodged Killigan’s driver, only to walk right into Shego’s foot.  Even rolling with the blow, it made her ribs creak something fierce.

Ron grunted, jabbing his thumb into Monkey Fist’s eye.  Enraged, the half-blinded ape man grabbed at his face with one hand, leaving the other clamped down on Ron’s throat.  “What’s so dangerous about Drakken?” Ron croaked.

“Nuclear oof Missile,” she managed to retort as Killigan punched her in the small of the back.

“Oh, riiiight.” Ron cast his eyes sideways, catching sight of the towering rocket that could destroy the entire complex in the blink of an eye.  He tugged at Monkey Fist’s hand to no avail, even as the ninja assassin’s freakish feet began wrapping around his ankles.

“Bet you wish you had an extra set of hands, don’t you?” Monkey Fist taunted, hanging off of Ron as he choked the life out of him.

A tiny smirk appeared on Ron’s face as he felt a stirring in his pocket.  “Actually,” he grunted, “I do.”

Monkey Fist was just about to ask what the sidekick meant when he felt a sharp pain in his calf.  “Yeow!” he screamed, immediately releasing Ron from his unbreakable grip.  Furiously, he looked down, tugging on his baggy gi, and found a tiny pink blob clinging to his pant leg.  “You miserable little rodent!”

Rufus waved, then scampered up the back of Fist’s uniform as a pair of hairy paws snapped at his tail.  “Ho-ho!”  He paused at the simian’s backside, planting his razor-sharp teeth into the soft posterior.  Rufus was rewarded with another shriek of pain and another attempted grab, which the mole rat expertly avoided.

Satisfied that Rufus had everything under control, Ron shifted his attention back on Drakken, who was still poking uselessly at his console to no avail; he had yet to release the missile’s docking clamps or open the roof hatch looming above them.  “What’s up, Doc?” he called as he sprinted towards the blue baddie.

Drakken looked around desperately, searching for someone, anyone, who could ward off the sidekick long enough for him to release the prize.  Unfortunately, all of ‘his’ sidekicks were indisposed at the moment, leaving him helpless and alone.  It seemed as though his plan was shot down the tubes…

And then, as luck would have it…

At that exact moment, the golf ball Killigan had left for Will decided to put on its grand finale, detonating in a ball of conflagration and tiny white shrapnel.  Will hadn’t quite made it far enough from the ball, and was thrown violently into the air.  He landed in a heap, skidding across the floor-

-and right in front of Ron.  Though his reflexes were far better than they had been before, even he couldn’t react fast enough.  His boot caught right in Will’s ribs, causing the agent to violently exhale his gag as the hapless sidekick was sent flying.  Despite Drakken’s pleading moans and warding hands, he tumbled right through the scientist, bowling him over and cracking his head against the console’s keyboard.

Lady Luck, deciding that Ron had caught enough breaks for the moment, threw a wrench into the works; Lights all over the complex immediately began flashing, and a loud metallic clank emanated from far below the platform, near the guidance fins of the massive, ancient weapon.  A soft, feminine voice echoed throughout the building, speaking in a calm Russian dialect that echoed hauntingly across the cavernous chamber.

“Wazzat?” Ron muttered dizzily, pulling his head from the keyboard.  Tiny, reversed Russian letters dotted his face, intermixed with his freckles.  “The cafeteria’s daily special?”

Will crawled pathetically towards the console, worming his way on his belly without the use of his arms or legs.  “You IDIOT!” he cried, the only one to understand the situation (being the only one in the room that spoke Russian, among other languages).  “That’s the complex’s self-destruct signal.  You’ve activated the missiles!”

Everyone, including Kim and her attackers, stopped at the sound of rusted metal scraping against metal as the gigantic shutters situated above the towering nuke slowly opened, revealing a gray, overcast sky above.  “So that’s not the soup of the day?” Ron asked meekly.

Kim shielded her eyes from the flashing lights that warned of their eminent destruction.  “RON!” she cried with exasperation.

“Oh, come on!” Ron said pleadingly.  He threw an arm around Drakken’s shoulder, who had just now managed to pick himself up.  “It’s not like Doctor D here will let the thing he came to steal blow up.”

“Actually, this silo houses several nukes, with multiple launch pads.” Drakken informed him.

Ron digested the information calmly, rubbing his chin and nodding.  “Uh…huh.  Okay, new plan.”  He burst out in a full sprint, screaming and running for Will like a madman.  “Fix-it-fix-it-fix-it-fix-it-fix-it!” he cried over and over, tugging at Will’s bonds.

The instant his shackles were torn away, Will shoved Ron aside and made for the console.  “We have only moments to deactivate it,” he muttered, examining the controls as Drakken slipped away, whistling nonchalantly.

“Great.” Ron said, then frowned.  “What happens if we don’t?”

“This entire region will be reduced to an expanding ball of free-floating molecules and deadly radiation.”

“Oh.”  Ron stared down at the incomprehensible gibberish that scrolled by as Will pounded on the keyboard.  “So, no pressure, right?”

“Would you kindly shut up?”

“Right.” Ron drew his fingers across his lips, “Sure thing.”

Kim dashed over as Will worked his magic on the keyboard, typing furiously.  Sweat dripped from the teen’s brow as he entered command after command.  In the background, the soft feminine voice droned on and the lights continued to flash red and yellow, warning anyone who dwelt in here that there was no time to flee, and that they should make peace with whatever deity they paid tribute to.  “Can you stop it?”

“Almost…” Will grunted, biting his lower lip as he entered the last command.  “Almost…”  With a tiny, ironic ding, the voice and lights ceased their warnings, returning the complex to its usual state of operations.  “There!”

The three of them breathed a collective sigh in relief, sagging visibly.  “Glad that’s over.” Ron said cheerfully.  “I hear radiation is murder on your complexion.”

Kim sighed once more as she saw Will ready his bellowing voice, presumably to chew Ron out, when a thought occurred to her.  “Um, guys?  Where did the bad guys go?”

A sudden, mad cackling drew their eyes upward.  There, beyond the open shutters in the Siberian sky, floated a small, sinister blue-and-black craft.  The hovering vehicle already had several tendrils snaking down through the opening, hooked onto the massive nuclear missile.

Drakken, Shego, Monkey Fist and Killigan all clung to individual strands of the metallic cords, looking down at their teenage adversaries as the airship hauled upwards.  Monkey Fist held a small pink blob in his hand, which he disdainfully tossed down into Ron’s quick hands.

“Thanks for saving us, Kim Possible!” Drakken called out, waving to her.  He soon lost his balance, though, and had to cling even more tightly to the cable.  “We’re off to sew the seeds of a new tomorrow!  Ta-ta!”

Kim watched dejectedly as Drakken’s airship (which, for reasons that escaped her, bore his infamous Mr. Potty’ logo) soared off into the sky, quickly moving out of their tiny field of vision.  “Well, that’s just great.” she huffed, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face.  “We’ve got a major villain team-up, and now Drakken has a nuke.”

Will merely pressed a button on his watch, speaking into the tiny microphone hidden within.  “Mission was a bust, HQ.” he said, scowling in Ron’s direction.

“Guys, guys,” Ron placed Rufus back on his shoulder, grateful that Monkey Fist hadn’t kept his little buddy.  “I think we’re missing the bigger picture here.”

“Which is?” Kim raised an eyebrow.

“We didn’t blow up Siberia,” Ron stated proudly, “And thus avoided a nasty international incident.  I think that’s something to be pretty proud of.”  Even as Rufus nodded in agreement, he was a little fazed by Kim and Will’s equally frosty glares.  “Right?  Guys…?”

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