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Revelations of Destiny	By : Kellendros Category: Kim Possible > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 63520 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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
- 69
- 70
- 71
The still of night hung almost palpable in the rooms of a large high-rise penthouse suite, the spacious chambers dimly illuminated by the diffuse glow of Seattle after dark and a waxing gibbous moon riding low on the horizon. The décor of those quiet rooms was tastefully casual, if somewhat dated, but despite the homey atmosphere encouraged by the setting, there was something… lacking, about it. A certain sense of Spartan emptiness was reflected in the order of everything. Everything had its place and was in it precisely. There was no greater or lesser chaos that gave most homes their lived-in feel. That was, except in the master bedroom…

A big, overstuffed armchair in one corner of the room was draped in the cast-off components of a full uniform, belt dangling from the winged chair back and polished boots haphazardly lying one to the side and the other shoved beneath the front of the chair. The sliding closet door stood half open, revealing a mix of more informal clothes hanging tightly packed on the rack, with several sets of shoes jumbled up on the floor below, while closer to the big king-sized bed, a pair of padded slippers sat next to the pooled cloth of a light powder-blue cotton robe. A large, empty hot cocoa mug and dog-eared romance novel sat on the nightstand next to the bed, sharing space with a heavy-duty wristband wristwatch, shaded lamp, cordless phone, and digital alarm clock that announced it was two minutes to midnight in glowing green numerals. On the bed, a single fit feminine figure was curled up with the covers pulled tight around her, sound asleep in her comfy cloth cocoon.

Mere moments after the clock flicked to eleven fifty-eight, the stillness was spit by the shrill tones of an insistent electronic chirp. The sharp, incessant warble rang out several times before it managed to penetrate the shroud of slumber surrounding the sleeping woman, prompting her to fumble one arm free of her sheets in a lethargic haze and grope around the nightstand until she retrieved not her phone, but rather the heavy wristwatch sitting next to it. A second later her arm retreated, bringing the device near the general vicinity of her head, while fingers so practiced the motions were instinctual pressed the buttons to answer it.

“It had better be the end of the world for you to be calling me, Simmons.” The plainly frustrated, croaking voice was thick with sleep and barely comprehensible.

Alistair knew it was bad when his commander called him by his last name, but his crisp English tones never wavered as he responded; “I know this is the first leave you’ve taken in months ma’am, but it couldn’t be helped,” Alistair paused uncharacteristically, then continued; “we’ve just received a report from the Paris operation that strongly indicates the Wildfire Scenario is in play.”

Dr. Director’s single eye snapped open and her fatigue fell away in a heartbeat, replaced by a cold dread rolling through her, tying her stomach in queasy knots. Eye wide, she sat up while twisting around on the bed, warm sheets falling away from her light cotton nightgown as she did. Taking three deep, measured breaths, she spoke with an unnatural, exaggerated calm.

“Could you please repeat that Alistair? I want to be certain I heard you correctly.”

“The Paris team just submitted a preliminary report on a failed attempt to apprehend a target of opportunity they encountered while in the field, ma’am. That report strongly indicates the Wildfire Scenario is in play. And ma’am? It appears the fire is green.”

Oh god, it just keeps getting better and better… Betty thought to herself with bone-dry sarcasm, slightly amazed that she was handling things so well. After all, it was only one of the most promising, exceptionally gifted young prodigies of the last century going rogue… no big deal, right? And the fact that she was apparently doing so in the company of one of the most dangerous, nearly equally competent super powered villains of the last twenty years wasn’t particularly alarming, now was it? No, no trouble at all…

“Put all our forces on general alert. I want the division heads assembled for an emergency meeting at Central as soon as you can get them there, and send a high-speed transport to pick me up ASAP. Have the division heads briefed in the air and send that report to my PDA via code-black encryption. Keep any further mention of it off the networks and purge the existing data from everything except the isolated mainframe.”

“Yes ma’am; transport’s already on the way. ETA to your coordinates twenty-three minutes… I’ll begin bringing in the division heads and isolating the data immediately.”

Betty didn’t have to be in the same room as her personal assistant and general dog robber to know he’d just hit a button on his keyboard, sending out pre-prepared orders for the division heads to be brought in posthaste. His near-psychic ability to anticipate her needs was the very reason she chose him for the position after all…

“All right, I need to start getting ready then. I’ll see you at Central when I touch down Alistair.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Betty looked down at her communicator for several long, silent seconds before giving her head a sharp shake and sweeping aside the blankets still covering her. There was no time for denial or indecision when faced with a crisis of biblical proportions, only action—and she’d always been a woman of action. One quick shower and one hypersonic jet ride later and the head of Global Justice was striding down the middle of Central’s main hangar looking neat and trim in a freshly laundered uniform, while her one remaining eye belied her recent sleepy state with its sharply focused gaze.

Alistair was waiting for her by the main entrance to the complex proper, his spiky, close-cropped blond hair and clear blue eyes only slightly worse for wear from having been up for nearly twenty hours now, though his rumpled blue-grey support staff uniform couldn’t say the same. Falling in alongside her as she passed him, her aide adjusted his oval steel-rimmed glasses while handing her a data-pad.

“The latest data ma’am, including enhanced video footage from Agents Walker and Montrosant’s AV rigs and a more detailed debrief of Agent Gallows—though it’s still fairly sketchy; his doctors would only allow us to question him for a short while, and he was heavily medicated on top of that.”

Betty sighed. One agent with relatively minor injuries, another that would be out of commission for at least two months, though thankfully with no permanent damage, and a third maimed for life in what was a shockingly brutal act of violence for Shego—or at least, it was shockingly brutal in comparison to all of her previous encounters with Global Justice. Betty was no fool; she knew Shego was capable of far, far worse than what she’d done to Agent Gallows, but up until now, the super powered villain had always exercised a certain amount of restraint regarding the more… unpleasant, things she could do. Despite her potential to be a walking engine of death and destruction, she usually used what was, for a wanted super-criminal, reasonable force against her opponents. It was out of character for Shego to escalate without good reason—or at least, good reason for someone with her amoral leanings—and that actually had Betty just as worried as the news that Kim Possible had interfered with her capture—after reading the reports, Betty wasn’t quite willing to say the girl had gone rogue… yet.

“Have they found Agent Gallows’ AV rig yet?”

That was another thing that bothered Betty. Gallows was a bit of a loose cannon, with multiple reprimands in his dossier, but he was still a reasonably reliable field operative—if he wasn’t, she’d have long since given him his walking papers—so it was highly unlikely he would have broken SOP by undertaking a field operation without an AV rig; the audiovisual data recorder was a mandatory mainstay for any field agent not undercover. Even with his injuries, the odds of Gallows losing his AV rig and having the internal tracking chip malfunction were slim to none, which meant it had either been disabled and taken, or destroyed—but why? They’d left Walker and Montrosant’s rigs behind, therefore it couldn’t have been to conceal Kim Possible’s involvement, so what made the information on Gallows’ rig so important?

“No ma’am, there’s still no trace of it.”

Betty just shook her head and started reading the revised reports while heading towards her office. As she did, Alistair continued his briefing.

“As usual, the French are dragging their heels considerably in providing us with assistance and access to their surveillance networks—in fact, I believe the only reason they’re not outright stonewalling us over jurisdictional boundaries is the severity of the incident. As a result, we’re spread quite thin, with most of our focus directed toward tracking the fugitives. Even so, I’ve received a few ancillary reports from our canvassers that suggest an… unexpected, possibility regarding the two of them.”

Betty shot a sideways glance at Alistair. It was quite unusual for her aide to drop such a vague, question-begging comment, and the pause, however brief, implied “unexpected” could equally be taken as “disturbing.”

“And that would be?”

Alistair squirmed slightly—well, as much as someone could be said to squirm while matching Betty’s brisk stride—wavering for a moment before responding; “I’d really much rather confirm and supplement those reports with further investigation before elaborating ma’am—I’d prefer not to look the fool if I’m wrong about this. I just wanted to advise you that I may have spotted a potential motivating factor regarding the situation and request the leeway to follow up on my suspicions.”

“All right, I’ll allow you to pursue this mysterious theory of yours until all of the division heads arrive. After that I fully expect you to tell me everything, whether you’ve confirmed your suspicions or not, understood?”

The only reason Betty granted Alistair leniency instead of dressing him down for his tight-lipped reluctance was, again, because of the very traits for which she chose him as her personal assistant. She trusted his instincts and was willing to give him some latitude because of it—some.

“Understood completely ma’am; thank you for the discretion.”

Betty would have gone back to reading the revised reports on her data-pad, but they’d reached the operations floor by now, and the stairs to her office, which overlooked the cavernous room, were just on the other side of the bustling, terminal-filled area—not exactly someplace she wanted to traverse with her concentration and single eye directed downward, even if her people would get out of her way as soon as they saw her coming.

Crossing the floor, Betty fielded a handful of respectful greetings and a couple of operation requests before reaching the stairs to her office. One quick ascension later and she was opening the doors to her inner office while Alistair took his place at the cluttered desk in the antechamber fronting them.

Seating herself at her considerably neater, more organized desk a few moments later, Betty logged onto her terminal and accessed the isolated mainframe, calling up everything regarding the situation in Paris, only to find that the most recent data files were just a few minutes old—a notable performance for most other agents, but par for the course given Alistair’s dutiful, meticulous attention to detail.

Leaning back in her firmly padded ergonomic office chair, Betty dove in with both feet, reading the very first report and then working her way through each one after it in order, so she could get a full understanding of how events had unfolded to date. As she read, she also studied the video footage from Agents Walker and Montrosant’s AV rigs, as well as the enhanced versions, complete with sections highlighted and isolated by surveillance analysts tasked with dissecting the footage for any pertinent information they could pull from it. Once she’d watched them all repeatedly, going over every second with a fine-toothed comb, Gallows’ missing rig became even more troubling as Betty’s racing thoughts turned down darker paths.

Kim Possible’s presence during the incident was clearly captured by both rigs, and there was no way she would not have known about it, given her relative positioning to the first two agents and her general knowledge of GJ SOP, thanks to the close working relationship Global Justice had had with the teenager over the last twenty months. However, that footage also left the girl’s presence at the incident highly ambiguous, as she’d taken no action until after Shego had disabled Agents Walker and Montrosant; the only rig left that could have captured her direct involvement was Gallows’, and the only reason to take it… the only reason to take it was if they assumed he was dead—or at the very least would be before help arrived.

Betty sighed and tilted her head back while pinching the bridge of her nose. Then she massaged her forehead with thumb and forefinger, feeling the first glimmer of a tension headache building within her. She just couldn’t believe Kim Possible was capable of such cold-blooded actions, let alone that the girl would be accomplice to cold-blooded murder—because that was what leaving Gallows to die was.

Betty shook her head and returned to the reports; until she knew exactly what happened—if she ever did—she would operate under the theory that Kim Possible hadn’t known what Shego was going to do, and that she assumed Gallows was dead after the fact. It didn’t absolve the teenager’s guilt, but it did mitigate it somewhat, and she owed the girl that much at the very least, that benefit of the doubt.

When Alistair came in a few minutes later, Betty looked up to find her assistant standing silently before her desk in an uncharacteristic display of hesitant fidgeting, his expression not quite… uncomfortable, but close.

“Yes? What is it Alistair?”

“I ahhh… I seem to have gathered enough information to support my suspicions ma’am.” Alistair offered Betty a memory stick, which she took and inserted into her terminal. “The agents tasked with backtracking the targets’ movements interviewed several patrons of a popular karaoke club frequented by tourists. Those depositions clearly indicated that Kim Possible and Shego were at that club just prior to the incident. After I had your leave, I directed the agents follow up on that information with a more detailed investigation of their actions there.”

“The additional information seems to…” Alistair cleared his throat while looking over Betty’s head instead of meeting her gaze. “Ahhh, it seems to… indicate that the two of them are ahhh… involved, with one another… as in, romantically, ma’am.”

Betty fought the urge to grin broadly. She’d never seen her assistant so flustered before; he was actually blushing. Then her eye widened in shock as she finally registered what he was saying instead of how he was saying it. After several seconds of stunned silence, she snapped her jaw shut with a sharp click of her teeth, shaking her head to focus.

“And whatever makes you say that, Agent Simmons?”

“It’s ummm…” Alistair swallowed noticeably, “it’s all laid out in the interview reports ma’am. I’ve compiled and annotated the relevant portions. There are even a few pictures and two minutes of poor quality cell phone video to supplement the witness statements.”

“I see.”

“I should really return to work ma’am…” Alistair hinted with hopeful desperation.

Betty gave a weary sigh and nodded her head.

“Very well…” As Alistair was leaving, Betty forced herself to add; “Thank you for bringing this to my attention Alistair; good work.”

“You’re welcome ma’am.” Alistair responded gratefully, then quickly vacated the room.

Shaking her head with yet another sigh, this one far deeper and longer, Betty stared off into the distance with an unseeing eye. Kim Possible and Shego… together? Oh sure, there’d always been a few low-probability fringe theories floating around the Psych Division regarding the teen heroine’s orientation, the evolution of her relationship with the green-hued villain, and where that relationship might be heading, but it wasn’t possible, was it? Then again, a little over an hour ago she would have felt the same way about the idea of Kim Possible helping a wanted criminal evade capture—evade capture at best; it was commit attempted murder at worst.

Twenty-six minutes later, after meticulously examining every last scrap of information Alistair had gathered, Betty really didn’t know what to think anymore. The whole situation was just so… so surreal in its sheer implausibility, yet she had to admit that even when viewed in the most conservative light, the statements, pictures, and video strongly suggested the interplay between Kim Possible and her nemesis had been something more than just a couple of women out having a good time. In this case, Occam's razor was paradoxically pointing to the least likely scenario as the most probable—two or three people seeing what they wanted to was one thing, but dozens? And if she were completely honest, after seeing the pictures and video she had to include herself in that number.

Before Betty could make any further headway coming to grips with this new development, her tangled thoughts were interrupted by Alistair’s anxious, low-pitched voice coming in over the intercom.

“Commander Blackthorn incoming ma’am!”

Betty looked up and turned her head to find her second in command stalking towards the clear tempered glass doors of her office, a dark scowl marring his ordinarily attractive African American features. Not even sparing a glance at Alistair as he passed him, Magnus came on like an approaching thunderhead, his normally soft brown eyes hard and set, fit frame tense, and the crisp lines of his immaculate uniform adding to the austere air surrounding him.

Betty sighed; this was not going to be pleasant, not by a long shot.

Planting his palms in the middle of the double doors to her office three seconds later, Magnus shoved them open forcefully and swept into the room while all but bellowing; “I told you this would happen! For nearly two years now I’ve been telling you this would happen, but would you listen to me? Of course not!”

“And a good morning to you too Magnus.”

At the arched look that came with the dry sarcasm, Magnus shook his head irritably and snapped; “Oh you know what I mean! Obviously I didn’t know this was going to happen, but I’ve been telling you to rein in that vigilante cheerleader since day one! She’s an unaffiliated wildcard that—”

“That’s saved the world more times than I can count using both hands?” Betty interrupted firmly.

“That’s lacked the oversight to properly direct and discipline her.” Magnus shot back just as firmly, never missing a beat. “And now, because she didn’t have regulated boundaries, we have this. A failed apprehension attempt, one agent out of commission for months, and another for life! And don’t even get me started on the potential disasters yet to come if she has teamed up with that super-powered sociopath! Or worse…”

Magnus shook his head, changing up gears as he shot off on another tangent.

“And that’s another thing; we should have tossed that comet-powered aberration in some deep dark hole a long time ago. After four years of trying and failing, we know conventional confinement just doesn’t work! Hell even unconventional confinement hasn’t worked! This time we need to box that mutant freak once and for all, no matter what it takes!”

“That will be quite enough of that Commander Blackthorn!” Betty barked in an iron hard tone. “You’re well aware that I do not tolerate any such discriminatory prejudice within the ranks of Global Justice, and frankly, after all the years we’ve known one another, I’m surprised to hear you speaking this way.”

Magnus ground his teeth together and with forced calm, carefully grated out; “I am only trying to impress upon you the severity of the situation we are faced with, and the need for extreme measures to be taken in order to ensure something like this never happens again.”

“Then do so at the emergency meeting I’ve called, by presenting composed, reasoned arguments, not by spouting off reactionary demagoguery like you were some kind of loudmouthed political pundit!” Betty snapped. “Dismissed!”

“Ma’am!” Magnus immediately came to attention, tossing off a crisp salute before turning on his heel and stalking out of Betty’s office, still plainly seething beneath his obedient compliance to the curt dismissal.

Betty wasn’t doing much better herself; that sort of prejudice always made her blood boil. She despised ignorance and small-minded intolerance in all forms, even when it came to someone like Shego. As far as she was concerned, there was no difference between a woman that could generate bolts of cosmic energy and a woman that could pick up and fire an M-74 plasma cannon; judge them on how they used that power, not the source of it. Even so, she knew she was going to have to apologize to Magnus; her second in command wasn’t normally like this, it was just that he always took the harm or loss of agents so personally. That dutiful sense of responsibility made him a good commander, but it also tended to make him highly volatile in these situations.

Drawing a deep breath, Betty released it in a long, measured sigh, realizing she needed to calm down. According to the updates on her monitor, the last division head would arrive in just under fifteen minutes, and if Magnus’ reaction to the Paris incident was any indication, she had a long night ahead of her. Getting everyone to examine the situation with at least some degree of cool detachment instead of rashly jumping straight to panic, anger, or retaliation was likely going to be a task unto itself. For that, she needed to maintain a level head.

Sighing wistfully now, Betty wondered if it had all been worth it. It was times like these that made her question the wisdom of her decision to bring together the like-minded factions of a dozen different covert organizations and form Global Justice fifteen years ago. Certainly the organization she’d founded had accomplished considerable good in the last decade and a half, but when faced with situations like this all she could think of were the failures. The wholesale slaughter visited upon the island republic of Taluua by Malcorr Cain; the suicide of Captain Courageous; the creation of the Pan-Dimensional Vortex Inducer; the Heartbreaker’s unchecked reign of terror in Go City; and of course, the rise of WWEE, thanks to the jealous machinations of her twisted sibling Gemini.

Shaking her head decisively, Betty pushed away the brooding thoughts hanging over her like a pall, just as she always did. Such misgivings served no real purpose other than to distract her from looking forward, to the future—though she always appreciated these moments of grim reflection despite their lack of merit, using them to reaffirm her dedication to the cause of justice. It wasn’t how many times you were knocked down that mattered, only that you kept getting up again…

Returning her attention to the computer screen as Alistair brought her another memory stick with the latest data on it, Betty set to perusing the new reports, intending to be armed with every fact and figure by the time the meeting began.

Twenty minutes later, she uploaded all relevant information to her data-pad and then logged off her terminal, staring at the Global Justice logo on screen for several long seconds afterward. Then she drew a deep breath, rose to her feet, and left her office with data-pad in hand, heading for the conference room at a quick, determined pace while instructing Alistair to remain behind and monitor the incoming data in case any new developments arose while she was in conference.

A short walk down to the operations floor and then through the double doors beneath her overhanging office and Betty was in the conference room, facing her thankfully much calmer-seeming second in command and the five major division heads within Global Justice, all seated at the crescent moon conference table and talking amongst themselves in low, hushed, and mostly grim tones.

Everyone quieted as Betty entered the room and made her way to the center seat at the table. Nodding to the assembled members of the upper echelon of Global Justice, Betty sat down and got straight to business.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I trust you’ve been fully briefed on the recent incident in Paris and are all up to speed?” After various nods and affirmations, Betty continued; “Then before we begin, I want to stress that although we know what happened, we still don’t know why it happened. As you are all well aware, there are numerous conventional and unconventional methods of coercion that could be in play here. Until we rule them out, we will proceed with a healthy degree of skepticism regarding the motivations behind young Miss Possible’s actions, is that clear?”

Best to lay down the law right away… Betty thought to herself.

A second later that reflection was validated as Magnus rolled his eyes and muttered; “Oh here come the excuses already…”

Fortunately, all he did was mutter, while everyone else either took her directive favorably or at the very least impassively. After a suitable pause just to make sure her words sank in, Betty continued.

“Now then, I believe it would be best if we hear from you first Dr. Craven.” Betty turned her attention to a middle-aged man with short, wavy, graying sandy hair and a neatly trimmed beard. “Would you be prepared to make a preliminary assessment regarding the issue I just mentioned?”

Dr. Craven casually removed his stylish metal-framed glasses and began cleaning them with a cloth retrieved from the inner pocket of his corduroy suit.

“I’ve studied the various reports to a lesser degree, and examined the footage in great detail. As a result, I’m comfortable with voicing a preliminary opinion on the behavior of the subject, so long as it’s clearly understood that my final judgment is reserved until such time as I am able to properly disseminate this information to my division, so it may be fully and properly dissected and analyzed.”

Dr. Craven’s cultured voice was rich and smooth, as it usually was, but Betty could swear she detected an uncharacteristic undercurrent of tension in those otherwise measured tones. Then again, given the situation, a certain amount of apprehension was perfectly understandable—even expected.

“Very well.” Betty replied. “I’m sure I speak for everyone here when I say we all understand this is only an initial assessment on your part Dr. Craven.”

“Then given that, let us begin with…”

Dr. Craven directed everyone’s attention to the central view screen, calling up various sections of enhanced footage from the incident, along with numerous still frame video captures. As he did, he theorized on Kim’s likely mental states during the recorded portions of the incident, walking his colleagues through a detailed analysis that encompassed positioning, posture and body language, facial expressions, micro-expressions, and even pupil dilation.

“…so it would be my considered opinion that the subject was acting under her own volition; no outside coercion was involved here.”

“Hah! I knew it!” Magnus crowed. Turning to Betty, he emphatically continued; “I say we assemble a full strategic response team and go after her full bore; worldwide bolos to all agencies and active surveillance and interrogation of known associates, friends, family, and especially that damn computer kid that keeps hacking our systems! We should have brought his fat ass in a long time ago!”

“While that would certainly be an option, at this point, it’s premature to suggest initiating such an extreme response.” Betty responded in a firm, evenhanded tone.

“Extreme?” Magnus burst out incredulously. “He just said Kim Possible has gone over to the other side! How much more extreme do you need?”

“Excuse me, Commander Blackthorn, but that is not what I said.” Dr. Craven interrupted disapprovingly. “I said that the subject was not acting under the influence any outside coercion, which is another matter entirely. In fact, I am of the opinion that it is highly unlikely the subject has, as you so eloquently put it, ‘gone over to the other side’.”

“What?” Magnus turned to face Dr. Craven, clearly shocked and frustrated. “How can you possibly say that given what she did?”

“Because as you have so frequently contended, the subject is prone to bouts of impulsive, emotion-driven reaction in place of more reasoned decisions. I believe we are dealing with just such an incident here. As you can see by these images…” once more Dr. Craven called up footage and stills of the incident, dissecting the cues of Kim’s bearing down to the slightest minutiae, “…thus it is plainly evident that up until the point where Shego dispatches Agent Montrosant, Kim Possible is crippled with indecision and emotional turmoil.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Magnus demanded.

“Because between this footage, the statements collected from the patrons of L’Nuit de Chanson who observed the subjects interacting in that emotionally charged environment, and my best examination of the admittedly poor quality footage of the same, I am also inclined to believe that Kim Possible has formed a considerable emotional attachment to Shego, most likely romantic in nature.”

There were general murmurs at Dr. Craven’s pronouncement, but Magnus ignored them, speaking over the softer voices as he loudly questioned; “And how exactly does that make this situation any better Doctor? If anything, it seems to me it’s all the more reason to bring them in with everything we’ve got as soon as we possibly can.”

“It substantially improves the situation in light of what we know of the subject’s psychological profile. I submit that due to whatever strategy Agent Gallows’ undertook to neutralize and apprehend Shego, Kim Possible was overtaken by her instinctual need to defend those she cares about, and thus overwhelmed, her actions were purely reflexive rather than measured. She is of course still culpable, but I believe we can all agree that this is far more preferable than true measured intent on her part.”

“What are you saying this was Gallows’ fault?” Magnus snarled, slamming a clenched fist against the tabletop.

“I am not assigning blame of any sort, merely outlining the most likely impetus behind the subject’s actions.”

“Gentlemen, if I might interject.” Dr. Director interrupted forcefully.

Both men turned their attentions to Betty, Magnus with a scowl and Dr. Craven inquisitively. After a moment to be certain of her second in command’s silence, Betty shifted her focus to Dr. Craven.

“Dr. Craven, twice now you’ve made a very specific statement; that Kim Possible wasn’t acting under the influence of any outside coercion. Would you please clarify what you mean by that?”

“Indeed.” Dr. Craven idly turned his attention to the various images on the central monitor as he ruminated on the request. “Though it is clear to me that the subject’s actions were not forced by threat of harm or blackmail, either to herself or others, and that she was not under the influence of direct mind control, that still does not preclude the possibility that the subject’s emotions were co-opted in some fashion—ether enhanced, redirected, or manufactured entirely.”

“Well, we certainly know Drakken has no compunction against using emotional manipulation to achieve his goals.” Betty stated plainly. “As for Shego, she’s never shown any previous inclination towards manipulation of that sort—then again, she’s never displayed any aversion to it either. At least, save when it’s used against her…”

“So now you’re saying she was being mind-controlled? Or at least sort of?” Magnus growled at Dr. Craven.

“I’m saying nothing of the sort, only that the possibility of emotional manipulation is still in play.” Dr. Craven replied calmly. “However, that being said, there are also several factors that lead me to believe there is only a small probability of that being the case.”

“Oh really? Well please do continue then…” Magnus responded with sudden interest.

“The first would be that by Agent Gallows’ account, Shego did not ask for the subject’s assistance when the subject interceded on her behalf, nor does the footage support Shego desiring the subject’s participation—or even that she was aware of her presence during the recorded portion of the incident. Then there are the reports from L’Nuit de Chanson…” Dr. Craven called up the low-res cell phone footage once more, “…along with this less-than-desirable quality footage of the subjects. As you will recall, the statements indicated that both subjects seemed to be interacting with subtle to overt suggestions of romantic intimacy, depending on the observer. This is supported by my analysis of their interaction on the video—at least, to the limited degree possible given the poor quality and short duration of the footage.”

Dr. Craven paused, drawing a deep breath and then releasing it in a measured exhalation before continuing.

“Now Shego is of course a much more guarded subject than Miss Possible when it comes to certain things, but still, I believe I can state with some degree of reliability that she does indeed reciprocate Miss Possible’s feelings towards her, at the very least to a lesser degree, if not equally. Thus, as I find it highly unlikely that even a man as erratically unstable as Drew Lipsky could find any conceivable advantage to engendering the return of such feelings in his henchwoman, it is my educated opinion that given all those particulars, the chances of the subject being under the influence of emotional manipulation are quite slim.”

Magnus nodded grimly, but Betty asked a guarded question.

“Would it be possible that given your limited ability to properly analyze the club footage due to its shortcomings, Shego’s demeanor was instead an act meant to further strengthen and manipulate Miss Possible’s emotional attachment to her?”

“While I can’t rule out that possibility with complete certainty, I feel confident in stating the odds are all but nonexistent. To put it frankly, given every psychological profile we’ve ever come up with for her, Shego is simply incapable of successfully executing such a façade. Her psychological makeup is inherently and exceedingly unsuitable for such subterfuge save in the extreme short-term. Her every social instinct and drive runs counter to those you would need to achieve such a goal.”

This time it was Betty who nodded and Magnus that spoke.

“So at this juncture, you believe their feelings are mutual—but how exactly does that make anything better Dr. Craven? If anything, having those two in some kind of Thelma and Louise, Natural Born Killers dynamic is about the last thing we want. Even if the girl hasn’t gone over to the other side outright, it’s only a matter of time now. We already have aiding and abetting a fugitive, theft or destruction of GJ equipment, assault of a duly deputized authority, and accessory to attempted murder; there’s no turning back for her now,” Magnus turned to Betty, “which is why we need to go after her now, before things get any worse!”

“You are of course referring to the so-called ‘perfect storm’ of two complimentary deviant personalities colliding, becoming deadly and unstoppable.” Dr. Craven responded while cleaning his glasses again. “Once those two sick minds complete one another, they share a common delusion that you or I might not accept, but which bonds them together and justifies their actions, allowing the subjects’ personalities to feed off of one another in an ever-growing spiral of deviant sociopathic behavior.”

“Given the psychological profiles of these particular subjects, I can assure you that the odds of that dynamic being the case are practically nonexistent. In fact…” Dr. Craven paused while replacing his glasses, “the highest probability points toward the exact opposite outcome.”

“All known psychological data on Kim Possible indicates that in the absence of a severe traumatic event triggering a rapid descent into deviant, immoral, or antisocial behavior, that slide would require considerable time before it occurred—years at the very least—even if the subject was being influenced by one or more individuals—which I would also like to point out the subject has an unusually high tolerance towards. Given her borderline debilitating level of tenacity,” here Dr. Craven glanced across the crescent moon table, giving a slightly built, relatively younger man with short brown hair and dark brown eyes a pointed look, “several of the more… hypothetical, scenarios my department has explored indicate that the most likely outcome of Kim Possible forming a relationship with Shego would be a reduction in Shego’s antisocial behavior, not an increase in Miss Possible’s—and all the greater if the relationship was romantic in nature, as this one appears to be.”

The man Dr. Craven was looking at gave a quick shake of his head while rolling his eyes, loudly muttering; “You may have lucked out this time, but wasting budgetary funds researching wild fringe theories is still counterproductive in the long run.”

“Gentlemen, if we could please stick to the matter at hand?” Betty intoned in an iron hard voice that brooked no argument with her decree; she knew the old, tired argument between Dr. Craven and Peter Parker, the head of GJ’s Support Division, over funding allocations had to be cut off before it started, otherwise it was bound to sidetrack the meeting for who knew how long, and that was a disruption they could hardly afford given the seriousness of the situation they were dealing with.

“Of course, of course…” Dr. Craven returned his attention to Betty, the faintest hint of smug satisfaction in his tone and expression over, in his view, having gotten an unanswered shot in on his aggravating, small-minded rival.

“Now then,” Betty continued, an annoyed hint of firmness lingering in her tone, “could we please have your final analysis of the incident at hand as well as the situation in general Dr. Craven?”

“Very well. It is my considered opinion that given our current level of information, Kim Possible, while most likely acting under her own free will, did not do so out of any malice aforethought or premeditation. Her response was purely instinctual, and as such, should be taken into consideration when deciding our response. Additionally, I am of the opinion that it would be a substantial misstep on our part to respond with extreme measures at this juncture. The subject possesses unusually high moral drives, but they’re nearly overshadowed by her confrontational nature and need to compete; if we fail to handle this situation correctly, we could in all likelihood create the very worst case scenario we’re so apprehensive of.”

Magnus scowled and shook his head, while next to him, the somewhat dour looks of a younger man and woman with an uncanny familial resemblance to one another faintly echoed his displeasure. Fortunately, at least as far as Betty was concerned, the other division heads gathered at the conference table seemed to have more reserved, thoughtful expressions on their faces.

“Thank you Dr. Craven, I’m sure we’ll all take your assessment under advisement.”

Betty turned to the pair sitting next to Magnus and then paused for a moment, reflecting on Jack Morgan and Jill Quinn as she almost always did. Even in an organization such as Global Justice, full of unusual, exceptional people, the fraternal twins were an oddity. Taken individually, each of them was a fairly competent agent, but when allowed to work together as a team, their ability skyrocketed to the highest levels of performance. That was why Betty had made an exception permitting both of them to hold the usually singular position of heading up the Global Justice Field Operative Division—that and the fact that riding herd on nearly a thousand covert operatives was practically a two man job to begin with, even with a command structure in place.

They also shared Magnus’ attitude regarding casualties—though fortunately, to a somewhat lesser extent. That meant it all came down to whether or not he’d had time to further influence them towards his position.

“Jack, Jill, could we have your views please?”

Jack spoke first; “While there’s no reason to doubt Dr. Craven’s assessment of the incident, it doesn’t really change things that much in our opinion.” Jill took over; “While it’s good to know Kim Possible hasn’t gone rogue, she’s still guilty of everything Commander Blackthorn mentioned, and we are going to have to deal with that.” Jack spoke again; “Right now, we have a window of opportunity; she’s likely confused, off balance, and on the run.” Back to Jill; “If we don’t go after her with every avenue available to us, all we’re doing is giving her the opportunity to regroup, recover, and gather her resources.” Jack took the closing statement; “If we allow her to do that instead of keeping up the pressure and keeping her off balance, it will make it much harder to bring her in, and you know it.”

Jack and Jill shared one of their peculiar communal looks, and then Jill firmly stated; “We agree with Commander Blackthorn; our recommendation is to go after the target with every means at out disposal before that happens. Cut off her resources and support and run her to ground as soon as we can.”

“To that end,” Jack continued, “we have thirty-seven agents available right now, and another fourteen we can pull off their current assignments over the next four days without compromising anything they’re working on. With sufficient resources allocated from the Support Division,” here Jack glanced at Peter, who Betty noticed had a fairly displeased expression on his features, “we can have a fully operational task force up and running by tomorrow… errr, later on today.”

“In the interim, it would only take six hours to assemble and deploy strike teams to apprehend her known associates Ron Stoppable and Dr. Wade Thomas.” Jill continued seamlessly. “At the same time, we can secure the necessary US Federal warrants to freeze both her parents’ assets and her trust funds for the duration of our investigation.”

“I see.” Dr. Director turned her attention to Peter. “And what are your thoughts on the matter Peter?”

Peter flicked his eyes to the ceiling, breathed a sub-vocal sigh of annoyance, and gave his head a single little shake before answering in a dry, matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, we certainly have the free assets to mount such an operation at the moment, but really, a full task force to bring in a sixteen year old girl with no powers or advanced technical skills? Please. I don’t care what she’s done; she’s still just a high school cheerleader, with no real means to represent more than a moderate threat at best. This is all just a case of ‘wrong place, wrong time’, and without some kind of evidence she’s working with someone a bit more high profile than a super-powered mercenary she’s got the hots for, I can’t see the justification for it. We’ll still bring her in eventually with a more reasonable response, and unlike Shego, once we put her away, she won’t be getting out again.”

“Are you forgetting that more often than not she’s the reason Shego’s been put into confinement in the first place?” Magnus growled.

“Maybe, but like I said, until we know she’s working for or with a greater threat than Shego, she’s still just one girl. The damage she can do is limited, even if she’s partnered with that woman—and that’s not even taking into account the fact that Dr. Craven said she’s not even technically working with her!” Peter shook his head vigorously. “No, this situation just does not warrant such an expenditure of time and resources. It just doesn’t…”

“How can you be so blind to the realities of this situation?” Magnus shouted back. “Kim Possible has the potential to become one of the greatest threats to worldwide stability and security we’ve ever known!”

“Exactly!” Peter shot back nearly as loudly. “She has the potential to become a serious threat, but she hasn’t yet, has she? If you had even sketchy evidence that was the case here, I’d support a full-fledged task force, because then it would be justified! But you don’t, do you? You just want to go off half-cocked without any consideration for the costs involved in such an over-the-top response, but it’s my job to point these things out, and in this case, the costs far outweigh the benefits! It’s just that simple!”

“Enough!” Dr. Director’s voice cut through the air like the crack of a whip, instantly commanding everyone’s attention. In a more controlled tone she firmly continued; “Mr. Parker has made his position clear, so let’s move on, shall we?”

Inside, Betty was still fuming. Peter Parker was one of the most capable bureaucrats and logistics managers she’d ever met, which is why she’d put him in charge of GJ’s Support Division, a sprawling department that included the motor pool, armory, filing and records, remote surveillance, data analysis, and computer intelligence sub-divisions under its umbrella. She had no doubt in her mind that lacking someone of his innate organizational skills, she’d have long since needed to break up the Support Division into smaller, more manageable divisions. Unfortunately, those same skills left him rather… lacking, in tact when it came to matters outside of the bottom line, which was really the only thing he was ever concerned with—and the constant Spiderman jokes made at his expense certainly hadn’t done anything to improve his demeanor either.

Drawing a deep breath, Betty gathered her calm and turned her attention to the other side of the conference table, focusing on an older black man with a short salt-and-pepper beard that matched the tight, greying curls covering his head. The most startlingly sharp blue-grey eyes seemed to take in every little nuance of the room around him from behind a simple pair of bifocals, and he projected a nearly palpable aura of quiet erudite dignity and authority despite the rumpled steel-grey suit hanging from his bony frame. He was also smoking a large briarwood pipe carved into the angular, extended shape of a darkly handsome horned devil—something Betty would have normally never permitted were it not for the… unique, position Alexander Freeman held: heading up Global Justice’s comparatively small, usually overlooked Paranormal Division. Most people would take Freeman for a college professor, or perhaps a dealer of antiquities. They would have never guessed he was one of the most powerful Voodoo Houngans on the entire North American continent—perhaps even the world.

Before Betty could address him, Freeman spoke in the rich, melodic tones of a Jamaican accent, his voice strong and clear despite a certain… whispery, undercurrent of age to it.

“I and I’s told y’ before Betty, ‘de Loa swim thick around Kim Possible ‘dey do. ‘De girl be touched by ‘de Powers, whether she knows it or not. ‘De fates, ‘dey weave great t’ings with her thread ‘dey do, but still, those t’ings be hidden, even from my sight. I can’t tell y’ whether or not her path be dark or light, only ‘dat ‘dis here? ‘Dis ain’t ‘de beginning of it; it’s jus’ a drop in ‘de river…” Freeman took a long drag on his pipe, releasing streamers of fragrant smoke as he continued speaking, like some wise old dragon holding council, “But’cha need t’ remember ‘dat even a drop can change ‘de course of a river dependin’ on how ‘de ripples spread; far enough, deep enough, an’ anyt’ing can happen, so tread carefully Doctor, tread carefully.”

Betty nodded, Magnus grumbled under his breath, and Dr. Craven and Peter Parker found themselves unwitting allies as they pointedly and disdainfully ignored Freeman for reasons entirely their own. Despite documented evidence to the contrary, Peter viewed the Paranormal Division as a complete waste of time and resources that could be better spent elsewhere, and Dr. Craven refused to give any credence to the “superstitious nonsense” that was the PD’s stock-and-trade.

“Is there anything else you can offer?” Betty asked Freeman.

Freeman took another long drag on his pipe, staring off into eternity as he did. After a nearly uncomfortable moment of silence, he finally spoke.

“Only ‘dat ‘de pendulum swings all ‘de wider under ‘de influence of ‘de star-touched child—‘de one we know as She-go. As always, she’s a volatile cat’alyst enhancin’ ‘dat which she’s involved in.” Freeman paused for a split-second, pointedly focusing his sharp gaze on Betty. “An’ ‘der’s one more t’ing. I sense ‘dat somehow, she’s ‘de hub around which all ‘dis revolves. I don’t know how or why, but ‘de answers, ‘de’ll all come down t’er.”

“As usual, you sure can say a lot without actually saying anything…” Peter muttered under his breath. A second later he was cursing loudly and glaring at a seemingly serene Freeman after inexplicably spilling hot coffee all over his wrist…

“Thank you for your input Freeman.” Betty said graciously, ignoring the exchange entirely. Turning to the last remaining person at the table, a woman on the younger side of middle-aged with curly strawberry blonde locks and an attractive figure, she continued; “Dr. Anders, I know this situation isn’t exactly something the Tech Division usually deals with, but do you have anything you’d like to add to the discussion?”

“Actually, yes, I do.” the woman answered in a sweet voice, her lively hazel eyes gleaming with a sharp intelligence that belied the typical dumb blonde stereotype. “Two things in fact.”

Dr. Anders leaned back in her chair after glancing at some notes on her data-pad.

“The first is based on something Dr. Craven said; that if Kim Possible is involved with Shego, she’s likely to reduce Shego’s antisocial behavior.” Dr. Anders’ eyes gleamed with unbridled ambition. “Do you know the potential gains represented by research into the unique cosmic energy Shego possesses? They’re literally capable of changing the world as we know it, if we can only crack that mystery—boundless, multipurpose energy with dozens upon dozens of feasible applications given its flexible nature.”

Dr. Anders paused for a moment, reining in her bubbling enthusiasm.

“Now that kind of research is of course both illegal and immoral when conducted on an unwilling subject, but what happens if Kim Possible is able to turn Shego away from her criminal lifestyle? Convince her to allow us to run some tests; do some research? I don’t think we should risk alienating the girl when those kinds of benefits could be had! At least, not until we know exactly what we’re dealing with. Depending on how things play out, maybe we could even leverage Shego agreeing to tests in return for leniency in dealing with Kim.”

“I… must admit, I hadn’t thought of that.” Betty responded. Next to her, Magnus was scowling again, while further down, Peter was nodding, an intrigued expression on his suddenly thoughtful features.

Turning to Dr. Craven, Betty asked; “Do you think that could be feasible Doctor?”

“Hmmm…” Dr. Craven pondered the question for several moments. “I believe it’s within the boundaries of reasonable possibility,” he turned to Dr. Anders with a sympathetic look, “but I wouldn’t get my hopes up, April. I’m sorry to say that Shego is… highly resistant to the idea of submitting to any sort of medical or scientific procedure, to say the least. She would have to have considerable feelings for Miss Possible to even entertain such a thought, let alone agree to it.”

“Well it’s still something to think about at least.” April replied cheerfully, not losing a beat. Turning back to Betty, she continued; “The second thing I’m wondering is why we’re not considering how Kim being caught up in all of this may have affected Shego’s response during the incident.”

“What do you mean?” Betty inquired.

“Well, with everything I’ve read about Shego, it seems to me that her burning off someone’s arm during what looked to be a fairly routine capture attempt was a little… excessive, for her, wasn’t it? All the incident reports show a remarkable degree of restraint on her part given the sheer destructive power she wields—I mean, for a violent international criminal at least. I’m wondering if Kim’s involvement was the reason for the unusual amount of brutality Shego used against Agent Gallows. If she cares about Kim and thought she was in trouble, wouldn’t that explain everything?”

“Yes, yes, I see where you’re going with this…” Dr. Craven murmured, nodding approvingly. In a louder voice he continued; “It’s entirely possible. Shego displays a remarkable amount of loyalty despite her abrasive, violent demeanor and aggressive tendencies, and that’s just in regard to her professional dealings, such as they are. I’m sure that inclination would be even stronger towards someone she had an actual emotional attachment to, which would of course increase the level of those violent threat-responses were she to perceive that person as being in danger.”

“Does it really matter why she did it?” Magnus demanded forcefully. “One of our agents is lying in a hospital, maimed for life, Shego is responsible and because of her interference, whether it was intentional or not, so is Kim Possible! That’s all we need to know! The only thing we should be discussing is what we’re going to do about it!”

“Of course it matters!” Dr. Craven shot back. “Understanding motivation and intent is of vital importance, if for no other reason than to predict the most probable reactions from the subjects in future situations—especially if we’re considering action against them. On top of which, it is imperative we take intent into consideration when deciding our response, because knowing the subjects’ intent is critical in gauging the severity of the situation we’re dealing with—or would you not agree that Kim Possible attacking Agent Gallows with malice aforethought in order to allow Shego the opportunity to finish him off makes this incident far more severe than her doing so out of unthinking instinctual impulse? Or that the atypical level of violence Shego employed remained unexplained, making her considerably more unpredictable and all the more dangerous because of it?”

Magnus scowled, shaking his head stubbornly at the unusually vehement response from Dr. Craven, and Betty seized the opportunity provided by his momentary silence to interject before he could respond.

“Gentlemen, please.” As all eyes shifted to her, Dr. Director pressed a button on the command console in front of her and then continued. “Now, I know this is somewhat unusual, but given the severity of the situation we’re dealing with, and given that he'll most likely be the one heading up the task force assigned to carry out our response, I felt it appropriate we also hear from the only other person in Global Justice who’s worked closely with Kim Possible.”

While Betty spoke, the automatic double doors on the far side of the conference room slid open with a faint hiss. A moment later Will Du entered the room, his dour, impassive features somehow managing to project an even greater air of gravity than usual.

“I trust you’re all familiar with our top agent, Will Du.” Dr. Director stated rather than asked, though several people nodded anyway. Turning her attention to Will as the young man took up a precise military “at ease” stance in front of the conference table, she continued; “And I trust you’re fully up to speed on the situation by now Agent Du.”

Again, it was more statement than question, but Will nodded respectfully and, with supreme confidence, smoothly answered; “Naturally I’ve fully familiarized myself with every aspect of the data file I was provided with, ma’am.”

“Very good Agent Du—and your thoughts on the matter?’

“I’ve stated on numerous occasions that as an inadequately trained, undisciplined amateur, an incident involving Kim Possible was only a matter of time, but I can honestly say I never expected something like this. From my short time with her, I would have previously stated that Miss Possible was incapable of such deviant behavior. Obviously I would have been proven wrong…”

Will scowled—well, more than usual—and Betty had her own difficulties schooling her features. She knew that Agent Du was a moderate conservative on a good day—and just shy of ultraconservative on a bad one—and that made her wonder just how he’d meant that somewhat ambiguous use of “deviant.”

“But I suppose that’s nether here nor there.” Will continued, then paused for a moment, uncharacteristically uncertain. “I find myself in a bit of a quandary regarding this situation ma’am, given the gaps in our data and lack of a definitive motive behind Miss Possible’s actions. She poses a significant threat to international security if her intentions have taken a turn for the worse, but on the other hand, if this was simply a rash decision spurred by her impulsive, undisciplined nature, her actions hold far less negative connotations than they otherwise would. Thus I find myself in the unusual position of being equally split between advising an aggressive, comprehensive response on all available fronts, and a more reserved, ‘wait and see’ approach.”

Will shook his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but until we discover the exact reasons why she did this, I can not be more exact than that. Though I would be remiss if I did not point out that despite my own uncertainty, the potential threat posed by Miss Possible is of such significance that erring on the side of caution would be your most prudent course of action. Were I in your shoes, I believe that is the decision I would ultimately, if reluctantly, come to.”

“There, you see?” Magnus all but gloated to Betty, while at the exact same time, Dr. Craven said the exact same thing to the elated commander. A second later they both scowled at one another, sparking a momentary flicker of confusion across Agent Du’s features before it was quickly hidden behind his usual blank expression.

“Thank you for the assessment and recommendation Agent Du, I’m sure we’ll all take it under advisement.” Betty said to Will, ignoring the exchange between her second in command and the doctor. Turning her attention to the group as a whole, she added; “Does anyone have any specific questions for Agent Du?”

“I do.” Magnus turned to Will. “Agent Du, if we decide to mount a full-scale response, do you believe you’ll be able to carry it out to the best of your considerable abilities in spite of your reservations?”

“Of course, Commander Blackthorn. I pride myself on my professional conduct.” There was the faintest undercurrent of affront in Will’s nearly curt, supremely confident assurance.

Magnus nodded, while next to him, the twins conferred for a moment before Jill asked; “Agent Du, there’s something else to consider if we decide to mount a full-scale action against Miss Possible: it will be the largest task force you’ve ever commanded by a considerable margin.” Jack took over. “Do you feel confident in your ability to organize and lead such a force?”

“While I won’t deny that would represent a significant challenge to my many talents, I am certain I am capable of handling such an operation. Were I to believe otherwise, I would inform you of such misgivings, as I would be remiss in my duties if I failed to do so.” Will stated with his usual straightforward, unintentionally pretentious confidence.

“Very well Agent Du, that’s all we wanted to know.” Jack said while Jill nodded.

When no one else ventured anything, Betty looked around the conference table, just to make sure there were no further questions. Then she turned her attention back to Will.

“As there seems to be nothing further, you’re dismissed Agent Du. You’ll be informed of our intended plan of action as soon as it’s decided upon. In the interim, I suggest you begin reviewing the list of available agents and resources you’ll be able to draw upon so that you’ll be able to get started as soon as possible, whatever that response ends up being.”

“Understood ma’am!” Will snapped to attention. “I’ll begin immediately.” Will paused for a split-second, then added; “And thank you ma’am; I won’t let you down.”

Betty nodded, and Agent Du turned on his heel crisply before exiting the room at a determined pace. After he left, Betty shifted her attention back to the group and drew a deep, calming breath, fairly certain she knew what was to come—but it still had to be played out.

“Now then, let’s begin figuring out exactly what we’re going to be telling Agent Du to do, shall we?”

From there, everything went pretty much the way Betty expected it to, with the debates, arguments, counterarguments, proposals, and counterproposals starting in earnest. All in all, the intense discussion—if it could even be called that, given how heated things got at several points—lasted about an hour and a half, until everything had been hashed and rehashed twice over. The battle lines came down to Magnus vehemently arguing for the most aggressive, extreme options at every opportunity, with the twins backing him up to a somewhat lesser extent, and Doctors Craven and Anders urging a more measured, cautious approach whenever possible, with Peter inadvertently supporting their position by dint of arguing against the cost of some of the more extreme measures brought up, while Freeman more or less abstained from the entire exercise, save to interject the occasion pointed remark or perceptive insight.

In the end, it was the moderate side that won Dr. Director over. Part of it was that in wanting to give Kim Possible the benefit of the doubt, Betty was already leaning in that direction to begin with, however slightly, but mostly it was that between the two of them, Dr. Craven and Dr. Anders simply had the most persuasive, well-reasoned arguments. Dr. Anders’ was plainly pushing for restraint because of her eager interest in Shego, but the self-serving motivation didn’t make her arguments any less compelling for it, and the fact that Magnus was stubbornly arguing from an equally… driven, place of his own more or less evened the scales on that front. On top of that, while the twins may have had twenty-four years of field and operational experience between the two of them, Dr. Craven had made the understanding of psyches and motivations, especially deviant ones, the sole focus of his life for nearly three decades. Lacking a clearer understanding of the situation, Betty had to give more weight to that experience, even though a few of the more drastic responses put forward held considerable prudence of their own, if admittedly from an entirely different perspective.

“I believe I’ve heard enough ladies and gentlemen. This is how we’re going to proceed…” Betty thumbed through her notes, “two more investigation teams will be sent to Paris as soon as they can be assembled, in order to supplement the one already there. A ten-man strike team will be sent as well, kept on constant standby and ready to deploy as soon as the targets are located, under standard engagement and apprehension protocols.” Magnus scowled and shook his head at that. “A data analyst team will work in conjunction with the field teams, and three rotating Sat Intel groups will be made available to provide full-time reconnaissance and surveillance telemetry. In addition, we’ll initiate passive surveillance on Kim Possible’s family and notable acquaintances, as well as active surveillance on known associates Ron Stoppable, Rufus, and Dr. Wade Thomas.”

“I still say it’s ridiculous to waste any more resources on that hairless rat.” Peter griped under his breath.

Ignoring Peter’s mutter, Betty continued; “Naturally, we’ll continue to keep all information on this operation off our networks until surveillance is in place on Dr. Thomas. After that, we’ll return to standard procedure.” Betty paused for the brief moment it took to vent a quick, soft sigh. “Last but not least, we’ll request a bolo on Shego from the relevant French agencies—along with any other assistance they’re willing to provide—and we’ll update all international watch lists she’s on as well, but we’ll leave Miss Possible off those lists for now, whether by name or description. All of this is of course subject to change, pending further information or action by the targets, understood?”

Everyone at the table nodded or voiced their acceptance save Magnus, who, in a hard, objecting tone, said; “I still say you’re making a mistake. At least put the strike team under active-threat engagement protocol!”

“Your objections are duly noted Commander Blackthorn, but I stand by my decision.” Broadening her focus to the entire group, Betty continued in the same firm tone; “Barring further developments, we’ll readdress this matter at our regular division coordination meeting on Wednesday. You’re dismissed ladies and gentlemen; sorry for disrupting your weekend.”

With various murmurs and nods, all of the division heads filtered out of the conference room except for Magnus, who lingered behind until everyone else had left. Once he was alone with Betty, he shook his head grimly, speaking in a stern, disapproving tone.

“For the record, I really don’t like this. The girl’s too big a threat to be handled with kid gloves after something like this.” After a few seconds staring at Betty, his features softened somewhat and he sighed. “That being said, it’s your call. I just hope to hell I’m wrong about this and you’re right.”

With that, he turned and left the room at a brisk pace; after all, whether he agreed or not, he had orders to carry out—orders that would require substantial effort to accomplish on an ASAP timetable. Every minute counted in these situations after all, and they’d already wasted enough time as it was.

Staring at the door long after her second in command departed, Betty quietly though to herself; I hope I’m right too Magnus, I hope I’m right too—because if I’m not…

Betty sighed. She couldn’t even finish the thought. If she was wrong, if there was more to this than there seemed to be, if Kim Possible really had gone bad… the potential for disaster was unimaginable.
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Revelations of Destiny