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Moving Onwards	By : PatPat Category: Kim Possible > Het- Male/Female > Kim/Ron Views: 6723 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Moving Onwards
Failure to Function
By Pat Squared

Kim Possible watched in horrid fascination as her fiancé, Ron Stoppable, squeezed into his mission gear, and checked his equipment.

The sound of the slide of Ron’s GLOCK 22 slamming forward and chambering a round particularly unnerved her. Ron wondered what Kim would think when he would later prepare his M4 Carbine. The world was becoming violent and law enforcement had to play catch-up ball with bad guys would no longer gave a damn about who they hurt.

The transformation from sensitive lover to modern day gladiator sent shivers down Kim’s spine, but she knew that the gear was there to ensure that Ron would return home unharmed even if things went horribly wrong.

The days of the US Marshal wearing the black suit, ten gallon hat, the long, classic Western duster coat, and two Colt Peacemakers single-handedly bringing the law to the Western Frontier were long gone. Now Ron looked like he was single handedly going to invade South Central Los Angeles and hit every crack-house and meth lab in sight.

What scared her most was when Ron placed his olive green Nomex flash hood and became Wolf. It seemed his eyes went from the soft brown that she remembered to the harsh eyes of a predator seeking its next meal. Ron pointed his GLOCK 22 towards the ground, extended his arms, and focused on the self luminous combat sight to burn the sight picture into his memory.

Methodically Ron went through every piece of gear. It was as if she was not there and he was going to kill. Ron was putting on his game face and Kim cursed the lost of the innocence Pre-K boy she once knew.

“Kim, let me help you with that.”

Ron gently secured the assault vest on Kim’s slim body. Not normally designed for female frames like Kim, Ron had to make significant adjustments to the straps. He hand lingered just below her ribs, his fingers tracing, I ♥ U as he looked into her eyes.

Kim was holding back tears.

Delicately, Kim moved her left hand towards Ron’s face.

She wanted to remove the hood, to see his eye turn back to the soft brown eyes that she looked into last night.

The soft brown eye that made her felt comfortable.

As an on-duty Global Justice agent, Kim was technically authorized to carry the same class three arsenal (All machine guns are designated by the US National Firearms Act of 1934 as Class III weapons) as Ron, but Ron knew that Kim was not comfortable around firearms.

Watching Kim suffer through the quickie firearms familiarization course only confirmed Ron’s snap judgment – Firearms and Kim mixed as just about as well as Kimmie and cooking.

So after speaking to the mission commander, it was agreed that Kim would carry an air taser, one expandable baton with built in cattle prod, and a Mossberg 590 pump-action shotgun loaded with close range rubber baton rounds - Painful, but not as lethal.

“KP. Don’t worry. You only have to wear the hood from the time we leave the facility until we are in the air. We just don’t want anyone to know which one of the convoys holds our guest. If anything happen, just hang unto Drakken, and stay with me. I will provide the covering fire. Just make sure to whack Drakken a couple times with your baton and he won’t be any condition to run.”

Ron gave Kim a brief hug and as he double checked her vest

The ballistic impact plates were heavy and Kim wondered how the other agents could move so effortlessly while carrying all that extra weight. They weren't all built like NFL linebackers. In the past, Kim’s speed and mobility were her weapons. Now, she was weighted down by over forty pounds of gear.

Ron was only point of reference as Kim entered the shadowy world of law enforcement special operations.

Four US Marshal Service High Risk Warrant and Fugitive Recovery Teams and hundred of local law enforcement were mobilized to move one man from Washington D.C. to an undisclosed location. Ron led her to a seat near the front row.

The briefing was short. Everyone knew the plan and Kim could smell the adrenalin oozing throughout the room.

Twice, criminals have attempted to collect on the twenty million dollar reward Drakken posted. Somehow, despite all the efforts, Drakken somehow raise the award to thirty million in the past week.

Eleven officers were in hospitals and two police funerals were held, because of the greed generated by Drakken’s promised reward money.

Ron squeezed Kim’s hand in a vain attempt to reassure her that thing will be alright. In her youth, Drakken was an irritation; Shego was the one that Kim respected as a dangerous foe. Ron’s would be the one who would take on the blue skinned freak while Kim handled the fiery tempered woman.

Today, Drakken has become much more dangerous than Shego ever was. Drakken had blood on his pitifully small hands. Drakken knew that the reward would mean that vicious armed killers would be hunting for the reward, yet he did it. If Ron got hurt, Kim vowed that Drakken would serve his life term in agonizing pain.

"Red, it's time to go."

Kim almost ignored the message until she realized that she was given the nickname Red because of the comments by Ron's classmate. Since there are multiple people with the same first name, everyone was assigned a code name. From here on in, the names Kim and Ron did not exist - Only Wolf and Red.

Kim and Ron followed the local county sheriff cell extraction team to Drakken’s holding cell. Drakken’s blue skin clashed with the orange jump suit. He sat up and smiled at the guards like they were taking him to an amusement park.

Ron and another deputy marshal placed Drakken in the prisoner restraint system and place the bulletproof vest on the blue man. Drakken had the legal right to hear his sentence pronounced. With it would mark the end of a period in Kim’s and Ron’s lives.

“Drew Lipsky, Global Justice Agent Red and I will be your shadow for today. You are being taken to the courthouse for the conclusion of your sentencing hearing.

"Should you attempt to escape or should someone attempt to spring you out, we are authorized to use lethal force. There will be no warning shots, we do not shoot to wound, but to drop any target in its tracks. Red here will use her shotgun to vent your brains like one of those Jackson Pollock paintings. Think of her as the babysitter with the ultimate axe to spank you with. Do you understand the consequences of what will happen if you try to run or if someone attempts to collect on your twenty million dollar bounty, or do I have to draw you a diagram?”

Ron voice sounded like that of one of the old Western hangmen. He stared down Drakken locking his eyes into the eyes of the supervillain.

Drakken attempted to stare down Ron, but the Wolf does not back down, especially in front of his mate and pack. Ron bored his eyes into Drakken’s empty soul.

Twenty seconds later, Drakken lost the contest of wills and looked away.

“Get up, Mr. Lipsky. You will follow the two deputy marshals in front of you. Global Justice Agent Red and I will follow you. You at all times will be chained to one of us until you either arrive at your final detention center or are release by the judge.”

Drakken was obviously taken back by the cold, brutal tone of the man he only knew as Wolf and tried to summon an air of superiority. Kim waited for Drakken to walk ahead of her before giving Ron the thumbs up. Ron nodded his head.

The radio went off.

“Couriers, TAC-Air reports clear roofs.”

Five police choppers were making sure that no one was waiting on the roof with RPG’s. Everyone did not want a repeat of what happened two weeks ago, when some of DC’s more violent gangsters tried to play a Mogadishu with some surplus Soviet Era RPG’s on a US Marshal convoy erroneously believing that Drakken was inside. Two deputy marshals were killed and many innocent bystanders were seriously injured in that attempt.

“Sam Lead reports all clear.”

Sam Lead controlled the police countersniper teams and made sure that no one is going to play Lee Harvey Oswald today. Twelve match winning sharpshooters and their Robar SR90’s .308 Winchester bolt action rifles were scanning the windows opposite the men’s jail.

“Pockets reports good pickings.”

The undercover officers mingling in the crowd and media area just reported that there were no bad guys hanging out in the crowds nearby.

Ron ensured that Drakken was seated between two large marshals and was seat-belted in place.

“Ax to all couriers party starts in one.” Eddy Castillo made sure that everyone was in position.

Twenty minutes to the courthouse and then forty more minutes to the airport. Everyone knew the schedule.

The convoys moved out on cue. Ron eyes bored in on the prisoner. The prisoner acted as if the ceiling was the most interesting thing in the van.

Ax voice broke over the radio.

“Heads up, folks. The media was tipped off on the time and location of the sentencing hearing half an hour ago and I assume the bad guys know as well. Time to put on your game faces and expect some unwanted company. All units boots and saddles.”

The driver of the van stomped on the accelerator as sirens started lighting off.

Something about the siren seemed wrong to Kim Possible. It did not rise and fade like the sirens she heard as a kid. It was just a steady wail.

GOD, PLEASE LET EVERYTHING BE OKAY. DON’T MESS THING UP FOR US. PLEASE FOR RON’S SAKE. AMEN.

Although Kim’s family were technically Irish Catholics via her mother, they were not exactly known for their attendance at Mass. The Possible family would be lucky to make Easter and Christmas Mass on the same year.

However, Kim still remembered the prayers that the nuns taught her in Sunday school a long time ago. She wanted today to be over and Ron to be safe. She knew that she would have to live with the fear that all cop wives face when their husbands went off to work.

Kim’s mouth was dry and her heart was beating like it never did during the missions of her youth. At sixteen, she was immortal and nothing could hurt her. Now she knew all too well the consequences of failure and feared that the price would be too high.

Worse, there was nothing that Kim Possible could do at the moment. She was as helpless as an unborn child in the womb. Ron had to be the Wolf and protect the pack.

One can not protect the pack and be playing with the pups at the same time. Now was the time for the bearing of teeth, not nuzzling.

Surprisingly, Ron leaned back and started singing the ‘Lil Red Ridding Hood song. The tension in the van was broken as the other deputy marshals were joining and Kim was glowing red under her Nomex flash hood.

A weight lifted off of Kim’s heart. Ron instinctively knew that she needed reassurance and delivered the goods in the classic trademarked Ron style.

Kim took a deep breath of the stale recycled air and joined in on the chorus. Her big bad wolf was a still a puppy at heart.

“Thirty seconds to show time.” Muttered the vehicle commander.

The van made a hard left as the drive stepped on the brakes. Instantly the other deputy marshals were outside, taking their prearranged positions, ready to engage any unseen threat. Ron quickly unbuckled Drakken and literally dragged him into the courthouse as Kim followed with her shotgun trained on the captured villain. It was funny watching Drakken being thrown around by the Buffoon that he underestimated for years.

The sentencing was uneventful.

The judge threw the book at Drakken - Multiple sentences totaling over six hundred years to be served consecutively, not concurrently. Drakken would not be eligible for parole for over four hundred years. Everyone stood up and the judge left.

The instant the judge crossed the threshold into her chambers; Ron had Drakken on his feet and started dragging him towards the vans. The other deputy marshals quickly moved into position forming a diamond around the prisoner. Kim had to hurry to stay by Ron’s side.

Twenty three seconds later and Ron literally threw the blue skin man into the van and motioned for Kim to get inside.

He then provided cover as the other deputies moved into position while counting off to ensure that no one was left behind.

Just as Ron was stepping into the van, he was pitched forward face first into the cold metal floor. The unmistakable sound of a supersonic round hitting Ron’s vest told Kim everything. Two deputy marshals grabbed his arms and yank him into the van as the van speed away.

“Shooters, brick castle, third floor, opening two.”

Kim was alternately dry retching and crying.

God didn't hear her prayers.

Kim could hear the bullets hit the van as one of the deputy checked Ron. They yanked off his vest and checked.

Deputy Marshal Kevin Tong, aka Sumoboy, a somewhat chucky fifth-generation Chinese-American announced fate’s verdict.

“Clear. The plate stopped the bullet. Radio’s shot up. Wolf, you are going to just has a nasty bruise and a sore back later. Red, don’t worry, a night in a hot tub with Red Ridding Hood will fix the Wolf-man right back up to peak performing condition. Just remember to give him some of your famous cookies.”

Cookie rhymes with nookie, Kim realized. She felt a full body blush come on and wanted to strangle the fat bastard. But Ron stepped into the fray.

“Sumoboy, seducing girls in hot tubs are so old school. Right up with those one liners you use. Not even Juanita, the he-she with the ‘stash, would bite your bait. What’s next, a leisure suit with butterfly collars and gold chains?”

Ron gave Tong the finger and gingerly slid his bruised frame back into the vest, reattaching all his gear. The jokes did not releave the serious nature of what just happened. Ron Stoppable looked at Kim reached into his vest and handed her a small pistol and a spare magazine.

“Red, leave the shotgun behind,” Ron whisphered, “Unless you practiced moving around in tight places with it, you will end up banging your elbows and bashing your ribs. Here is my back-up pistol. It loaded with a round in the chamber. All you have to do is just put the front sight on the target and squeeze the trigger. It has the New York trigger so it’s a little stiffer than the pistol you shot, but it's easy to hit anything within twenty feet.”

Kim wanted to argue. Despite having two brothers, a father, and grandfathers that hunted, Kim disliked guns. Maybe because her mother like many surgeons who worked in ER's, disliked guns. If Drakken's henchmen were armed like the villains that nearly killed ROn...Kim shuddered.

However, she knew that Ron was right. It was no longer a routine mission and the bad guys just proved that they were more than willing to kill anyone who got between them and twenty million dollars.

Kim looked down at the pistol. It was a smaller version of Ron’s big pistol. GLOCK 27 made in Austria. The grip was plastic. The slide was steel. There were no external levers to flip like on the Beretta 92’s that Global Justice now issued to its adult field agents.

Wondering how cops did not accidentally shoot themselves with this gun, Kim dropped the two spare magazines Ron gave her in her vest pocket. Despite not liking to shoot, Kim's father made sure that she learned the basics of firearm safety, before he tried in vain to take her hunting. Kim could not see the point in killing deer. Besides...she could not kill Bambi. She made sure that her finger was off the trigger and pointed it down on the floor.

Twenty two minutes of terror later, the van started slowing down. The airport police had a checkpoint up and running to prevent infiltration. Ron and other team members were scanning the area for threats through the bullet holes in the van.

Even though the airport was large, a good shooter with an off the shelf hunting rifle can easily hit a man sized target from the hills overlooking the runway.

Kim wanted out of the van. Being a turtle hiding in the shell was wearing down on her. She stunk of swear and fear. Everyone but Drakken reeked of the tension from the ambush. Drakken just plain stunk as usual.

The assault at the courthouse mess up the schedule and they were the only convey at the airport.

Instead of having nearly one hundred marshals on scene, there were only twelve. Deputy Marshal Reese had to make the call. The sheet metal of the van would not stop thirty caliber hunting rounds let alone a fifty caliber. The bad guys have shown a love for heavy ordinance. The sooner Drakken was in the air, the smaller the window of opportunity the bad guys had to collect on the money.

“Go, go, go.”

The decision had been made. Following their Pavlovian conditioning, the deputy marshals moved decisively towards their area of responsibility.

The van doors opened and the US Marshals moved out into a wall of lead provided by two dozen men dressed in airport police uniforms.

Deputy Marshal Kevin Tong was the first marshal to fall. In the rush to get out, his helmet came off. One second later, a bullet vaporized his head blowing skull, blood, and brains over Kim Possible.

Kim froze in shock.

It was the first dead body she ever saw in her life.

Ron threw Drakken over his shoulder and pushed Kim out of the van and towards the mobile stairway as the other marshals laid down a wall of fire at the false airport policemen. Ron knew that he was leaving his comrades behind, but he was personally tasked to be Drakken's shadow. It was his task to stick to the blue skin freak.

The others were positioned to hold off the Drakken’s rescuers until the pilot could get Drakken off the ground.

Three more steps and KP would be inside, Ron thought. Two loud blasts announced that the aircraft wasn’t a sanctuary.

Kim dropped straight down, trying futilely to raise the pistol, but she was too stunned to do anything as she saw two men in a police uniforms march up toward her. Both of them lifted up their pistols and pointed them at the face of the man she loved.

Ron tossed Drakken up the stairs as he raised his M4 carbine at the shooters. Ron brought the assault rifle up to his shoulder and squeezed off half a dozen rounds at the first one who shot his wife to be.

The bullets walked up the target’s body and into the head disintegrating it into a mist of blood, brains, and bone fragments. The other one was emptying his magazine at Ron but missed.

Kim flailed her legs knocking the second shooter down the stairs.

Ron quickly transitioned to the next target and pulled the trigger emptying his magazine into the target. However, the fates rolled the dice and it came up, snake eyes. The target got a lucky shoot off as he fell to the ground. It clipped the rim of Ron’s Kevlar helmet, and ricocheted downwards.

Ron fell.

Drakken felt the tug as the chain connecting him to the one called Wolf when taunt. Looking down, Drakken saw that the man was in not condition to fight. He yanked the pistol out of the deputy marshal’s holster. He carefully shot the chain connecting himself to the fallen deputy marshal and started going through the pockets for the handcuff keys.

Looking down at the Wolf, Drakken saw the injured man reach for his M4 carbine.

Drakken kicked aside the rifle, bent over, and place the pistol in Ron’s armpit and pulled the trigger twice.

The arrogant one called Wolf was now too far injured to be a threat. Looking up at the slight figure, Drakken walked towards the Global Justice agent.

Kim saw Drakken shoot the man she loved. She was now trembling with conflicting emotions.

Thou shall not kill clashed with the fact that Ron was hurt and that she had to stop Drakken.

Kim placed the sight over Drakken’s face, but no matter how hard she squeezed, something in her mind prevented her from pulling the trigger.

“Weak!”

With that final judgment, Drakken emptied the magazine at Red. She was struck twice in the throat and once in the face. Retrieving two magazines from the fallen marshal, Drakken reloaded his pistol.

Knowing that most of the rounds actually missed the Global Justice agent, Drakken decided that he would be more frugal this time around.

He carefully placed the muzzle of the pistol just under her vest, angled it upwards in the general direction of her heart, and fired twice.

Walking up the ramp, Drakken knew that he truly crossed a line not even Shego would cross. Killing those two gave him an excitement that rivaled the one time he scored with a prostitute. Too bad he was not shooting Kim Possible and the buffoon.

Satisfied with his handy work, he kicked the Global Justice agent down stairway to join her fallen partner.

Kim ended up next to Ron. His eyes were open. Kim could see that Ron was trying to speak, trying to give her some comfort, but he was gurgling on bright pink blood. She was too weak to do anything. She knew that they were drowning in their own blood and that she failed to get the man who hurt them both.

Kim failed for the first time in her life and had to pay the price. Kim could only watch as her fiancé was drowning in his blood before the darkness took her as well.
- 6
- 7
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Moving Onwards