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Revelations of Destiny	By : Kellendros Category: Kim Possible > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 63461 -:- 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
- 75
- 76
- 77
   Dr. Director’s head snapped up from her work sharply at the sound of a strident alarm going off throughout Central. Despite only having heard this particular alert less than a dozen times in all the years since she’d formed Global Justice, she recognized it immediately—it was the alarm used when hostile forces breached the security of any given GJ facility. After losing only an instant to surprise, she was using her command override password to call up the base’s security network on her terminal, all while simultaneously demanding answers from her assistant over the intercom.
   “What’s going on, Alistair?”
   “I’m not sure, Ma’am… the SecNet seems to be responding… sluggishly.”
   I noticed… Betty thought to herself irritably as she continued staring at the spinning Global Justice icon on her desktop, impatiently waiting for the security interface to come on-line. By the time the program finally initialized and she was able to start looking for the source of the problem, Alistair spoke once more.
   “Ahhh… I… really do think you should see this, Mum…”
   If the hesitation wasn’t a sure sign of Alistair’s unease, his reverting to the casual British honorific certainly was. A few seconds later, a camera feed from the security station housing Central’s emergency evacuation exit appeared on Dr. Director’s monitor, and her one remaining eye widened in shock as she took in the scene being transmitted from what was, essentially, the facility’s “back porch.”
   There, on screen, in a faintly glowing, scandalously formfitting blue and white catsuit that covered every inch of her from the neck down, was Kim Possible, holding one guard against a wall with her fully extended left leg, foot jammed against his throat and left hand pulling on his extended arm for leverage, while another guard knelt helpless and straining by her right foot, one arm behind his back and twisted nearly straight up in an incapacitating wrist lock, his other arm pushing against the floor in a vain attempt to relieve the painful tension in his abused joints. All around the room, the bodies of eight more incapacitated guards lay scattered in various presumably—hopefully—unconscious poses; the initial four guards that had been on duty in the security station, and four more from the emergency response team that had been nearest the trouble when it began.
   With an eerie sense of timing, just as Betty got her wits about her, Kim turned her head and looked straight into the security camera, her pretty young features fixed in a hard, indomitable stare as she firmly demanded; “I want to see Doctor Betty Director; now!”
   “Two more ERTs have taken up positions just outside the corridor leading to the triple-E security station, and security has a heavy assault team nearly prepped and ready to deploy, Ma’am.”
   Alistair’s update suddenly coming in over the intercom didn’t quite startle Betty, but after all the other shocks her system had taken in the last few minutes, it came close.
   “Tell security…” Betty trailed off, staring hard at the image on her monitor. After several long, trying seconds, she finally said; “Tell security to stand down.” Nearly right on top of that she quickly amended; “No, wait! Tell security to have the HAT… escort, our unexpected guest to my office.”
   A little show of force is exactly what that girl needs right now, in order to drive home the gravity of her situation… Betty thought grimly.
   “Are you… quite certain of that, Ma’am?”
   Given the magnitude of the remarkable, highly improbable event they were dealing with, Betty could forgive a little second-guessing from her assistant—after all, in his shoes, she wasn’t entirely certain she wouldn’t be questioning the rationality of her decision either.
   “Yes, Alistair; have Kim Possible brought to me as soon as possible—and get me the full security footage of what happened in there too! I want to review it before our headstrong young security threat gets here, so we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
   “Yes Ma’am!”
   Betty watched her screen as Kim released the two guards and warily stepped back from them after being told her demand would be met and to stand down. She also took note of how the girl didn’t let her guard down for a single second, even when cautious medical teams arrived and started taking the incapacitated guards away. By the time the HAT was halfway to the triple-E security station, Alistair had the surveillance footage she’d asked for, and Betty turned her attention from watching the impatiently waiting redhead to watching exactly what that same redhead had done mere minutes ago.
   After going through the comparatively brief footage, Betty found herself watching it again, not because she was looking for anything specific, but rather simply because she couldn’t believe what she’d seen the first time ‘round. About the only part of it she could accept was Kim coming in through the air vents—given the inescapable ventilation requirements of a large underground complex, there was only so much you could do to avoid that kind of breach, and while she was willing to state with absolute certainly that the security measures inside Central’s ventilation ducts could prevent, or at the very least, detect, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of all intruders attempting to enter that way, she was equally sure Kim Possible was one of the few people on Earth that fell into that last remaining point-one percent. No, it was everything after that that was so unbelievable…
   The lithe, white-clad teenager dropped down into the center of the room with all the silent, fluid grace of a stream of milk spilling from the mouth of a pitcher, effortlessly landing in a deep, controlled crouch despite having fallen well over twelve feet before hitting the floor. The instant she recovered from the landing, Kim’s strong legs uncoiled, propelling her towards the two guards stationed to either side of the control column on the right-hand side of the exit gate in a long, low leap. Before the men even had time to register what was happening right in front of their eyes, let alone react to it, Kim hit the floor again and shoulder-rolled to within just a few feet of them.
   Flowing up out of the roll and to her feet in one continuous motion, Kim planted her leading left foot while her right leg lashed up and across her body in an angled snap kick, slamming the sole of her foot into the side of the left-hand guard’s face with all the added power of her redirected momentum, summarily putting his lights out and dropping him as if an off switch had been flicked. As soon as her leg was fully extended in the follow-through, Kim swept it back towards the right-hand guard in something half hook kick, half reverse roundhouse. The hammer blow of her heel against his skull a split-second later sent the man’s consciousness spiraling down into darkness, even as his body spun around to face the wall behind him while crumpling in a limp, insensate heap.
   Letting her leg drop like a pendulum on the follow-through, Kim twisted around with the momentum of her kick to face the last two guards on the far side of the door. The instant her arcing foot hit the floor, the redhead bent her knees and sprang towards the nearby wall at an angle, then kicked off it at about a four-foot height using her left leg, propelling herself back out into the room with all the deceptive ease of a surefooted mountain goat. No longer hemmed in by the wall, Kim proceeded to close with the guards directly once she landed, white-clad legs flashing back and forth as she glided forward on the balls of her feet, the constantly grounded steps devouring the remaining distance with startling swiftness.
   By the time Kim reached them, the last two guards had overcome their shocked immobility and were finally starting to move, the woman on the left reaching for a SHOC rod hanging from her belt while the man on the right brought up his standard issue SHOC blaster, desperately trying to get a bead on the redhead. Before he could, Kim planted herself solidly in an extended step towards the right of the female guard, grabbed the woman’s upper right arm at elbow and armpit, and then used her own body as a counterweight while whipping the woman around in a tight, frantically stumbling circle before releasing her in the other guard’s direction, sending the woman’s careening form plowing into him just as he fired wildly, missing Kim by a mile.
   While the two guards went down in a heap of tangled limbs, momentarily stunned, Kim moved around the second control column with a long, hopping step out into the room, followed by another bouncing spring over to the fallen guards. Quickly straddling their unwillingly intertwined forms, Kim crouched down while placing her left hand squarely in the center of the female guard’s chest, leaning on her heavily in order to keep both guards pinned down, and, more importantly, to further trap the male guard’s SHOC blaster between their two bodies with the addition of her own bodyweight. Once in position, and without any hesitation whatsoever, Kim cocked her right arm all the way back to her shoulder and then hammered an alternating rain of blurring, full-extension, downward-driving jabs into the guards’ heads until she was sure they were both out cold. Then she reached down and pulled the female guard’s SHOC rod free from her belt, swiftly activating the weapon and cranking it up well past recommended safe levels before turning and leaping out into the center of the room in another long, diving roll.
   As Kim came to her feet in a deep, ready crouch with the crackling, energy-wreathed length of the SHOC rod held in her left hand, the brilliant white and faintly glowing blue material of her skintight suit began to shift and flow around her right hand, reforming into something vaguely resembling a futuristic, circuitry-covered Jai alai scoop. A moment later, the motivation behind the redhead’s peculiar actions became crystal clear as, simultaneously in each corner of the room, a section of the ceiling recessed and slid open before a quartet of automated SHOC cannons slid down and locked into place, their targeting systems having come online the moment the last guard in the room had stopped moving.
   The guns were compact, starkly utilitarian looking things, each resembling nothing more than a pair of stubbly, sectional, polymer composite two-by-fours sticking out of a beveled cylindrical housing, but their ugly, matte grey and black, function-over-form looks certainly didn’t inhibit the unnaturally smooth, precise movements with which they trained themselves on Kim, a harmony of rising, high-pitched whines filling the air as they powered up to fire.
   Arcs of bright bluish-white SHOC energy started dancing back and forth between the projection rails of all four cannons, growing thicker and more numerous with every passing moment, but still the redhead remained in her ready crouch, only her eyes moving as they flicked from one gun to the other and back again with uncanny patience and calm. Then, in the exact instant the increasingly abundant energy arcs began to coalesce, Kim burst into motion, sprinting forward at a slight angle while bending her left arm across her chest and then snapping it out again, hurling the SHOC rod in her grasp at the left-hand cannon in a sweeping backhand throw.
   The energized length of metal and synthetics streaked through the air like a blue-white lance, flying true and ending up right between the SHOC cannon’s projection rails just as the building energy formed into a cohesive, concentrated ball. Unfortunately for the automated gun, having a second, overloaded SHOC generator inside the core of its own energy output caused a catastrophic feedback, and a split second later, both devices detonated in a spectacular display of wildly arcing blue-white lightning.
   Even as the one cannon exploded, the other three opened up on Kim. Fat blue-white ovals of SHOC energy flashed past either side of the racing teenager as the automated guns tried to track her white-clad form, each shot missing by the narrowest of margins and continuing on to splash across a distant section of floor or wall. The barrage of near-simultaneous blasts slashing past Kim did little to keep her from reaching out and catching the latest shot from the remaining cannon in front of her, however, trapping it with deceptive ease in the energy scoop on her right hand before hurling it back the way it came in a snapping sidearm throw, whereupon the extra SHOC energy promptly overloaded the cannon’s charging systems, causing it to explode just like the first gun had, though somewhat less violently this time.
   Less than two seconds later, Kim hit the wall she’d been sprinting towards and raced up and across it at nearly shoulder height for three long, full strides. Then she sprang across the corner of the room, hit the nearby wall, and leapt off of that surface to propel herself back out into the room, seemingly effortlessly twisting and turning to avoid the fire from the two remaining cannons as she sailed through the air, only to land in a tumbling roll that ended with her coming to her feet in a low and inexplicably stone-still crouch. A moment later, that mystery was answered as a shimmering globe of crackling, transparent blue energy formed around her an instant before the latest SHOC cannon blasts would have hit, the fat blue-white energy balls bursting across the barrier and dissipating with little to no visible effect.
   With all the uncanny patience of a combat veteran under fire, Kim remained still while the cannons blasted away at her, presumable safe and secure behind her shimmering barrier despite the increasingly lively pyrotechnic display building up around her. After a few more seconds spent carefully gauging the rhythm of the guns’ firing pattern, Kim burst into motion again, her protective shield winking out of existence the moment she started moving forward at a dead run.
   Once more Kim avoided the SHOC blasts with deceptive ease—this time springing and tumbling across the floor erratically to keep from being hit—once more her hand shot out to ensnare a fat ball of energy as it passed her by, and once more she hurled it back up into the tines of a SHOC cannon just as it was about to fire. After that, it was ludicrously easy for her to dispatch the fourth and final gun, taking it out with a fluid, pirouetting move that caught one shot, then dodged the next while simultaneously sending the first back, with predictable results as it slammed into the forthcoming shot coalescing between the weapon’s tines.
   With all four guns reduced to sparking wrecks wreathed in rising streamers of acrid white smoke, Kim stood still for the span of several long, controlled breaths while the energy scoop surrounding her right hand flowed back up into the skintight material it had come from, until it was as if the device had never been. Looking down at her hand, the redhead dexterously fanned and undulated her fingers before making a tight fist for a brief moment. Then she unclenched her fingers and rolled them a few more times.
   Apparently satisfied, Kim looked up just in time to casually swing her head towards the inner doors to the base a scant second later, as she heard them sliding open with a dull mechanical hiss. Even as the six-man emergency response team rushed into the room, taking up ready positions while trying to assess what was going on as quickly as they could, Kim burst into motion, sprinting across the other end of the room at a dead run. Two of the more faster-reacting guards immediately opened fire on the streaking, faintly luminescent form, and twin lines of blue-white impact blasts snaked along the far wall like splattering electric raindrops as the shots from their rapid-fire SHOC rifles chased after Kim, but the redhead was always one step ahead of them.
   As she kept running, Kim twisted towards the guards while bringing her right arm up to point a clenched fist at the open air vent in the center of the room. A split-second later, the bladed wedge of a micro-grapnel shot out of the material covering her forearm, trailing a dark, slender cord behind it. In the blink of an eye, the wedge flew across the room and buried itself in the inside lip of the opening. An instant after that, the line drew taut, yanking Kim up off her feet and out of the line of fire completely.
   Twisting and turning in midair while the guards frantically tried to bring their weapons up to bear on her, Kim triggered the micro-grapnel’s release about three-quarters of the way to the vent, flying forward on momentum alone now while the line retracted faster than the eye could follow, vanishing into the material of her suit’s forearm once more. As she flew, Kim tucked herself into a compact backwards flip, spinning around twice before coming out of the tumble just above the group of guards she was hurtling towards.
   While she unfolded, Kim lashed out with her left leg, slamming her foot into one of the guards farther back from those in front, both to put him down and to dissipate her forward momentum. With only a slight bounce off her target, Kim dropped straight down into the middle of the scrambling guards a second later. Even as she landed, her right leg swept straight up onto the air while she twisted around to face the way she came, then descended in an axe kick that hammered a SHOC rifle out of the hands of a guard to her left.
   Still moving with the momentum of her turn, Kim whipped her left arm up and around in a tight left hook that snapped her fist into the disarmed guard’s head, sending him spinning away from her and down to the floor. Right on the heels of that strike, her right leg rose again, this time in a simple snap kick that knocked the barrel of the right-hand guard’s SHOC rifle up into the air just as he pulled the trigger, peppering the ceiling with a dozen or more blasts before Kim’s right hand slammed into his face in a full-extension thrust punch, sending him flailing back to hit the floor in a hard, uncontrolled fall. Once more following the impetus of her strikes, Kim leaned forward until she was bent nearly double, her right leg lashing out at an upward angle behind her, smashing her heel into the jaw of yet another guard just as he was bringing his SHOC pistol in line with her.
   By now, the two guards Kim had yet to assault were finally coming to grips with the chaotic swirl of combat they’d rushed into mere moments ago, and immediately opened fire on the redhead as soon as their guns were trained on her contorting, white-clad form. Unfortunately for them, that was just after the teenager kicked her other leg out from under her, dropping flat to the floor with her arms folded tight at her sides and palms pressing against the cold, unyielding surface beneath her. As the rapid-fire blasts slashed through the space above her, Kim hopped towards the two men in a short, ground-hugging bounce while drawing her left leg up under her. The moment she hit the floor again, she twisted sideways, right leg scything around in a broad, brutal arc to sweep the legs out from under her attackers, sending each of them tumbling to the floor in turn.
   As soon as she recovered from her sweep, Kim shot to her feet and stepped over to one of the fallen guards, grabbing his gun and yanking it away from him while snapping her foot into his jaw. A second later, she turned and took a step towards the other guard while swinging the SHOC rifle up and then down again like a golf club, smashing the man’s weapon out of his hands and sending it flying across the room. Following through on her swing, Kim swept the weapon up above her head in a full circle before snapping her arms down and releasing it towards the very first guard she’d attacked, who was even now climbing to his unsteady feet while drawing the SHOC pistol holstered at his right hip.
   Spinning through the air in a blur, the SHOC rifle smashed into the guard’s forearm just as his pistol cleared the holster, sending both weapons flying off to clatter and bounce across the floor. A second later Kim was in front of the guard, kicking him back into the wall behind him before he could even begin to mount a defense.
   Bouncing off the wall, the guard staggered forward a single step while valiantly trying to recover from the dual impacts. Unfortunately, before Kim could move to finish him off, the one remaining guard she’d left conscious behind her while dealing with this one rolled to his feet and then stepped forward, throwing a fierce body blow in the general direction of her right kidney as he came.
   Twisting and leaning to the side, Kim avoided the strike with only an inch to spare, then followed the guard’s arm back up to his face with a quick, snapping backfist that was more sting than power. As the man jerked back reflexively, Kim spared a moment to kick the other guard back into the wall again, then turned to face her attacker once more, launching a series of rapid blows at his head and upper body.
   Somehow, the man actually managed to instinctively block several of the strikes, suffering only a few hits that he rolled with, alleviating most of the damage they would have otherwise inflicted. By then, despite the incoming attacks, he’d recovered enough equilibrium to try throwing a few return strikes of his own, but they were blocked far more easily than he had blocked the redhead’s strikes—though it did seem that with every blow he launched, his renewed assault was slowly but surely wresting the initiative of the fight away from Kim, until he was once more the aggressor and she the defender. However, this was an illusion he was swiftly disabused of, much to his considerable shock.
   Blocking her attacker’s latest strike, Kim took a second to turn and kick the other guard back into the wall once more, right as he was about to recover from the last double impact. After that, she twisted back to face her more active opponent just as the man lashed out at her again. This time, Kim didn’t just block the guard’s attack, she stepped in and to the side of it while grabbing his arm at shoulder and wrist, then drove a hard knee up into his stomach, high enough to reach his solar plexus.
   Temporarily stunned by the blow, the guard put up no resistance as Kim adjusted her grip on his arm and then flipped him over completely, slamming his body into the floor and driving all the air out of his lungs. Still holding onto the guard’s wrist, Kim stepped over and around his prone form, twisting his arm behind his back and then levering his hand around in a tight wristlock.
   After securing the fallen guard, Kim took a half step away from him—the most she could, really—reached out, and grabbed the wrist of the other, still considerably staggered guard. Then she raised her left leg, hooked it around that arm, and planted her foot on the man’s chest, right beneath his throat. A second later the lean, athletic muscles of that leg rippled and flexed as she straightened it to full extension, slamming the guard back into the wall and holding him there. Then, with a simple twist, she shifted her foot even higher, tucking it right under his jaw-line before hauling back on his arm and pinning him to the hard surface even more securely—at least if he had any interest in continuing to breathe, anyway…
   Shaking her head as the security footage neared its end, Betty reached out and tapped a button on her keyboard, shutting off the playback just as the redhead voiced her iron-toned demand into the camera once more. Even after a second viewing, she still couldn’t believe what she’d witnessed. Kim Possible had incredible skill and ability for someone so young; she was easily one of the best Betty had ever seen in her entire life, if not the best, but even so, and despite the marked improvement the teenager had displayed over the last few months, no one could be that good—it just wasn’t possible.
   To be sure, Kim had held considerable advantage during her initial surprise attack, and the unorthodox rushing of the second group of guards, before they had time to really process the situation they’d rushed headlong into, had given her the upper hand there as well, but in the end, those edges just weren’t enough to justify the redhead’s unbelievable performance. The speed and accuracy of her strike placement was uncanny—nearly perfect—and the way her attacks flowed from one to the next, from target to target, with equally flawless, economical positioning… it was almost as if she’d choreographed the entire fight ahead of time and then practiced it repeatedly before going into the real engagement. No, it was just inconceivable that someone could, on the fly in the midst of a true battle, execute those maneuvers and attacks so faultlessly… which meant that there was something else going on.
   Reaching out again after a long moment of contemplation, Betty decisively pressed the intercom button for Alistair’s desk.
   “Alistair, how much information have the internal scanners collected regarding the unusual suit Miss Possible is wearing?”
   In the latest of a long line of displays showcasing his uncanny ability to anticipate her needs, Alistair all but immediately responded; “Security has been running a full suite of level three detailed scans on her… costume? since they began assembling the HAT. So far the results have been largely… unsatisfactory. The material is most definitely comprised of third or possibly even fourth generation nanotechnology, with interlaced microcrystalline power conduits and energy cells, but it seems that one of the things the technology was designed to do is defeat scanning devices using a continuous low-level, oscillating EM field.”
   Alistair gave a quick, soft sigh, then continued.
   “So as you can see, Ma’am, we’re lucky to have discovered even as little as that. The most recent feedback from Tech Division has them estimating the shield capacity at roughly ten gigajoules, with a plus or minus two-gigajoule margin of error. They also believe there’s a ninety-five-percent probability that the shield can only be generated when the suit is comparatively stationary. Analysis of the ‘energy scoop’ in action has them tentatively estimating its capacity at about two gigajoules, though it’s highly likely the function is limited to the types of energy that can be contained and channeled by magnetic fields. Aside from that, they say it would take a full-spectrum deep scan from a level five cryptoscanner in extremely close proximity to the suit in order to discover anything further—something that I somewhat doubt our… guest, would be inclined to tolerate.”
   Betty sighed herself, far more loudly and resignedly. Nothing was ever easy, was it? She’d bet a month’s salary—no, a year’s—that the technological marvel currently garbing the young Miss Possible was the source of her enhanced performance, outside of the obvious abilities it had provided her with. Fourth generation nanotechnology, interlaced microcrystalline power conduits, and microcrystalline energy cells, all stable enough to work outside the controlled environment of a sterile laboratory; the tech division would kill just for the opportunity to examine that suit for a few hours, let alone get their hands on it for full experimentation—Betty would settle for simply knowing the source of the cutting edge technology. What research lab or individual scientist indebted to the teenager had cracked the complexities of the applied science? Had it been developed by the boy genius who ran tech-support for the redhead? Or had the girl appropriated it from one of her many scientifically inclined enemies instead?
   Shaking her head, Betty forced herself to set aside those questions. Though significant, there were far more imperative things she needed to be concentrating on right now.
   “Thank you, Alistair. Please let me know when Miss Possible arrives.”
   “Understood, Ma’am.”
   Leaning back in her chair, Betty closed her eye and focused on her breathing, mentally readying herself for what was to come. Fortunately, despite the tense nature of the ongoing situation, her thoughts quickly fell into place, allowing her to achieve a relatively calm, ordered state of mind well before Kim arrived, which in turn permitted her to run through several strategies and approaches for dealing with the belligerent young woman. Of course, no strategy ever survived past the point of engagement, and in all likelihood the tone, direction, and pace of the… meeting, would largely depend on Kim Possible, but it was far better to attempt to be prepared than not.
   “She’s here, Ma’am.”
   Alistair’s voice coming in over the intercom brought Betty out of her meditation. Opening her eye, she turned her head just in time to see Kim Possible topping the stairs to her office, with six highly alert, heavily armed and armored “escorts” pacing her at her sides and rear. Sweeping past Alistair without so much as a single glance of acknowledgment, the grimly antagonistic redhead shoved open the doors to Betty’s inner office and stormed into the room, planting herself in front of the head of Global Justice’s desk in a scene eerily similar to the one that had played out a few days ago with Commander Blackthorn. Before Kim could say anything, as she was clearly about to, Betty beat her to the punch.
   “Good afternoon, Miss Possible. What can the Global Justice Network do for you today?”
   Betty’s voice was calm, cordial, and courteous—in other words, guaranteed to throw off the clearly fuming teenager. And it did; instead of voicing whatever she’d drawn a deep breath to say, Kim closed her mouth and paused, steadily exhaling while obviously rethinking her words.
   “Well for starters, you can tell them to get the hell out.” Kim jerked her thumb at her escorts. “Unless of course you want to air your dirty laundry in public.”
   Betty’s dark, uncovered eyebrow drifted higher at “dirty laundry,” but she decided to see how things played out by humoring the redhead.
“Gentlemen, if you would kindly wait outside?” Though voiced as a request, by tone it was clearly an order.
   “Understood, Ma’am.” The leader of the HAT responded before signaling his men to leave the room.
   As the heavily armed troops filed out into the waiting room fronting Betty’s office, Kim watched them with a wary eye. Then, once she and the head of Global Justice were alone, she turned back to Betty, a fixed, foreboding look of determination on her otherwise pretty young features. When Betty yet again tried to disrupt Kim’s momentum by speaking first, the fiery redhead whipped up a rigid forefinger as punctuation and rolled right over the head of Global Justice before she could even begin—or get a word in edgewise for that matter.
   “No! This is not a debate or a negotiation; I talk, you listen. Got it?”
   Betty bristled at the teenager’s insolent words and tone, then even more so when she realized the redhead was actually waiting for her to acknowledge the command. A few long, irate moments later, and with teeth tightly clenched together, Betty forced herself to give a single, terse nod, her self-control stretched mightily, if not necessarily to its limits—yet.
   “Good.” Kim continued grimly, speaking with careful precision. “Now, the first thing you need to remember is that on a semi-weekly basis, I deal with maniacal super villains bent on world domination, including all their deathtraps, crazy inventions, and legions of henchmen, well-armed and well-trained or not, so Global Justice? Yeah, so doesn’t scare me. Second, and even more important, is that there are rules to doing what we do, god damnit,” though her forceful words were still precise, Kim’s voice rose until she was very nearly shouting, “and as long I’m involved, you don’t get to ignore those rules, no mater who the hell you are! So, you’re going to call off your dogs and stay the hell away from me, my family, and my friends, or so help me god, the next time you see my face, it’ll be on a simultaneous worldwide television and internet broadcast! One where world famous teen heroine Kim Possible tells the entire world—and more importantly, every singly villain in it—that she saw a Global Justice agent escalating an initiated conflict with a known, established super villain to deadly force while that super villain was still using injurious, non-lethal force and not even aware of his presence, in clear violation of the Covenant of Thorns, the clarifications and revisions made during the Nuremberg Trials, and the world charter that allows Global Justice to operate in every UN member State! Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
   Betty just sat in her chair, reduced to gaping like a fish out of water thanks to her reeling, utterly flabbergasted thoughts. Eventually she managed to stammer out; “Wh-what are you talking about?”
   “I’m talking about Paris!” Kim snapped. “And one of your so-called agents trying to blow Shego in half before she even knew he was there—which, by the way, was when and why I got involved. Then, while I was freaking out over seeing bits of her splattered all over the sidewalk, he backhands me with that hand-cannon of his, and the next thing I know, I’m looking up into the muzzle of that gun just as he’s about to blow my fucking head off! If Shego hadn’t done what she did, I wouldn’t be here right now! And if it had of been anyone other than her, she would have probably died from that gunshot too, even with my help!”
   “I don’t… I can’t believe…”
   “I don’t give a damn what you believe, that’s what happened.” Kim snarled, her blazing eyes narrowing to near slits.
   By now, even with the numerous shocks her agile, lightning-quick mind had taken, Betty was beginning to recover her wits, but despite that, she just couldn’t believe what she was hearing—and it wasn’t just the improbability of the fiery redhead’s recounted version of the Paris incident either. It was also the fact that Kim Possible, a girl that for all her many talents and boundless potential, Betty would have previously bet possessed no knowledge of, or even interest in, the underlying treaties and legal foundations that allowed her to play the role of “teen heroine,” was now standing in her office making threats based on those very same things, like some hardnosed lawyer or political powerbroker. Admittedly, all the various super villain accords were required reading for any first-year Law student, but still, how had the girl come up with the admittedly ingenious, yet entirely uncharacteristic approach?
   A few moments later, Betty’s one remaining eye narrowed slightly. Thomas! Dr. Wade Thomas! That had to be it; there was no other plausible explanation. This was the work of the prepubescent boy genius running Kim Possible’s tech and intelligence support. Obviously the girl had told him everything, and then either asked him if he had any ideas on how to deal with the situation, or had been presented the strategy unasked—not that it really mattered; the result was the same after all.
   Shaking her head slightly, Betty silently berated herself for not seeing it sooner. Still, she didn’t allow herself to waste too much time with self-recrimination—there were greater issues in play. Collecting her thoughts, Betty assumed a much more composed air of authority and spoke in a stern, level tone.
   “These are some very serious accusations you’re making, Miss Possible. I don’t suppose you have any evidence to back them up, do you?”
   “After everything I’ve done for you and Global Justice, my word should be enough!” Kim growled.
   “I’m sorry, Miss Possible, but as you yourself said, there are rules to what we do, so I can’t show you any kind of undue favoritism, now can I? At this point, it’s your word against Agent Gallows’, an Agent in good standing with Global Justice for nearly five years now, and you must admit your story is rather… farfetched, to say the least. Not to mention that your word has become, shall we say, somewhat suspect? thanks to the company you’ve been choosing to keep as of late?”
   “Oh don’t give me any of that ‘guilt by association’ bullshit!” Kim snapped, glowering at Betty while folding her arms beneath her breasts. “Two and a half weeks ago I kept Dementor from sucking that oil deposit dry in the Baltic Sea, and just last week I took down Motor Ed and his goons, along with their stolen tech, before they could rob that concert—which, by the way, Shego helped me do!”
   For the briefest of instants, Betty considered the vindictive, petty response of asking the irate teenager to clarify whether she meant the super villain had helped her deal with Edward Lipsky or rob the concert venue, before dismissing it out of hand. Instead, she marshaled her self-control and continued down the path she’d chosen.
   “Be that as it may, when it comes to credibility, we’d be fools not to take your ‘associations’ into consideration. I believe the saying is: ‘lay down with dogs and you get up with fleas’, isn’t it, Miss Possible? In fact, it really does make me wonder just how much your parents approve of this new development between you and your… ex? rival? That is of course, assuming they even know about it.”
   “Don’t even think about going there!” Kim’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and her arms uncrossed to hover tensely at her sides, all but trembling with rage. “My parents have always accepted and supported all of my decisions, even if they didn’t necessarily agree with them, so long as I was in the right—and I am definitely in the right here, not that it’s any of your damn business!”
   Shaking her head and scowling, Kim seemed to throw off the latest twist in her confrontation with the head of Global Justice, making a visible effort to calm herself before continuing.
   “Besides, it’s not what I’m doing that’s at issue here, it’s what Global Justice is doing—or rather, what you’re going to do if you know what’s good for you. What I did in Paris was more than justified—for that matter, so were Shego’s actions… at least, after that agent tried to kill her and me anyway—so again, I’m telling you to back the fuck off… unless, of course, you want me to share our little secret with the rest of the world.”
   Betty sat evaluating Kim for countless long, drawn-out moments, her one dark eye boring into the resolute redhead like she was looking into Kim’s very soul itself, measuring and weighing the teenager until the silence stretched well and truly into the realm of the uncomfortable. Only when she was absolutely sure of her assessment did Betty speak in a measured, even tone.
   “Very well, Miss Possible. Given your past contributions to both the cause of world peace in general and Global Justice specifically, and despite your less than laudable attempts at coercion, I’ll extend to you the benefit of the doubt regarding this matter. So long as you, Shego, and your other more usual associates undertake no further criminal acts, hostile or otherwise, against Global Justice—or anyone else for that matter—all measures Global Justice has initiated against you and your associates will be suspended while the investigation is redirected to look into your accusations thoroughly. If there’s any truth to what you say, then we owe you a significant apology, Miss Possible, and I’ll see to it personally that the Agent in question is dealt with as severely as possible.” Betty’s tone hardened to something approaching iron, and her unyielding expression was that of an approaching thunderhead. “However, if no viable evidence can be found to corroborate your accusations, or they prove to be outright subterfuge on your part, you will immediately and without any further resistance submit yourself to the custody of Global Justice, whereupon you will be charged and tried under the full weight and measure of the law. Is that understood?”
   “I am no—”
   “No, Miss Possible, now it’s time for me to talk and you to listen.” Betty rolled over Kim with a sharp, implacable resolve. “Do not misunderstand this; I am doing you a considerable favor here. In return, you will accept my terms or face the immediate and full repercussions of your actions without any further leniency on the part of Global Justice or myself—and believe me, Miss Possible, those consequences will involve considerable hardship not only for you, but those closest to you as well. That is simply fact, not threat, my dear; simply fact.”
   Betty leaned back in her chair, grim-faced and staring hard at Kim with her single eye, clearly awaiting the redhead’s response—and just as clearly expecting nothing less than complete and total acceptance of her proposal on the part of the redheaded teenager.
   Kim stood wordlessly matching Betty’s hard-eyed gaze for a long, long time before grudgingly conceding; “All right, fine. Considering I win either way, as long as it gets you off our backs I’ve got no reason to refuse.”
   “Then we have an agreement; I’ll have the focus of the investigation changed at once.” Betty responded firmly. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss, Miss Possible?”
   “Not unless you’ve managed to get a lead on Drakken.” Kim dismissed the query somewhat less tersely now that she’d gotten what she’d wanted, more or less.
   “Unfortunately, no, not as of yet.” Betty’s tone remained clipped; being reminded of Global Justice’s ongoing failure to acquire viable, current intelligence on the escaped mad scientist was hardly conducive to calming her nerves. After a moment’s pause, she continued; “I trust you’ll be leaving now? In a more conventional fashion as well?”
   “Yeah, it’s time for me to go.” Kim stood up straighter, with a definite air of finality about her.
   Betty gave a single nod and then, without looking away from the redhead, reached out and activated the intercom.
   “Alistair? Miss Possible will be leaving us now. Please have her escorted to the north-west transport tubes and shown out on number four, would you?”
   “Understood, Ma’am.” Alistair’s response was swift and precise.
   “Good day, Miss Possible.” Betty’s voice was almost cordial—almost.
   Kim nodded, but said nothing, simply turning and heading for the door with a determined stride. Betty continued watching as the redhead exited her office, was surrounded by her HAT “escorts,” and then shown down the stairs. Only when the teenager disappeared through the east exit on the main floor did the head of Global Justice return her attention to her immediate surroundings. With no more than a brief pause to summon Alistair over the intercom, Betty went to work on her computer terminal, calling up all current information concerning the Paris investigation. When Alistair arrived in her office a minute or so later, she looked up and addressed him in a disturbingly grim, focused tone that her personal assistant had only heard her use a handful of times before—none of them good.
   “I need you to recall Commander Blackthorn immediately; tell him to return ASAP. Then I want a communications uplink with Agent Du established.” Betty paused for a moment, and then added; “It appears our Paris investigation will be heading in an entirely new direction for the time being.”
   As Betty began outlining to her assistant the details of Kim Possible’s accusations, demands, and the compromise she had worked out with the teenager, Alistair’s bearing slowly but surely shifted to one mirroring that of the head of Global Justice—though admittedly, to a lesser extent. The situation, as it currently stood, was most definitely “not good,” not good at all…
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   Paris, France, 17 Hours Later…
   “Once again… really must protest! …patient… suffered a severe shock… system and… considerable, constant pain… needs… rest as he can get! Not to mention… added stress… stimulant interacting with… sedatives and painkillers… in his system… on his health… borders on… negligence—if it… twenty-four hours ago… very well would be!”
   The protesting voice, while pitched low, was still clearly critical, and thus carried a sharp, heated edge that was just enough to cut through the haze and register consciously, if only barely. The words didn’t quite stick, however, instead sliding out of his head before comprehension could really be achieved.
   “I really… give a damn… you think, Doctor… Now get… hell out… conversation… classified…”
   The harsh, disdainful response came right on the heels of the objections, much louder and seemingly familiar, though he couldn’t quite place the rough, growling tone. His mind was still too… diffuse, for that.
   A few moments later, that began to change. With unsettling swiftness, his thoughts started to sharpen, so that things like light and sound and pain—throbbing, pulsing, burning pain—began penetrating his consciousness without the respite of the dampening haze. Shortly thereafter, as the dry scents of sterile linen and acrid disinfectant assailed his nostrils, he heard a series of light footsteps followed by a sharp click and dull, quiet thump, then silence.
   Right after the sounds died away, and much to his great distress, the pain radiating from the pit of agony in his shoulder increased immeasurably as, with a soft, high-pitched mechanical whine, his upper body began steadily rising at an increasingly sharp angle. When he was more or less sitting upright instead of lying flat, the upward motion came to an abrupt, shuddering halt, the jolt sending a searing burst of torment through his body. Then, blessedly, the pain began to recede, slowly returning to the comparatively lesser ache it had previously been, fiercely throbbing through his body with each and every beat of his pounding heart.
   Eventually (because really, what else was there to do?) he reluctantly opened his eyes, only to groan and wince when dim, indirect light from the florescent wall unit above the bed lanced into his sensitive eyeballs like dozens of sharp, icy needles, despite the subdued nature of the illumination. After several squinting, watery-eyed moments, the discomfort went away, allowing him to focus his vision and make out the room around him, including the two uniformed figures standing in the gloomy open area at the foot of his bed. Stunned recognition blossomed in those blinking eyes shortly thereafter, and the moment it did, the figure on the left stepped forward, tossing the controls for the adjustable bed on a small, portable table to one side of the bed while speaking in an unforgiving snarl.
   “I trust you’re fully awake now, Mister Gallows?”
   “Mu’nuh whuh?” Gallows paused after the croaked attempt to speak, swallowing and clearing his throat before trying again. “Commander Blackthorn?”
   “That’s right,” the scowling black man responded before turning to his companion. “Looks like he’s firing on all cylinders now.”
   “Good.” the woman answered while stepping up alongside him.
   “Dr. Director, y-you really shouldn’t have come just for me…” Gallows said respectfully.
   “On the contrary, Mister Gallows, I always attend the summary dismissal of a Global Justice agent in person.” Dr. Director responded coldly.
   “W-what are y—” Gallows stammered out in confusion before Magnus cut him off sharp and hard.
   “Did you really think you’d get away with it, you son of a bitch?”
   “Indeed.” Dr. Director continued right on the heels of her second in command, fixing Gallows with a hard stare while her features twisted in obvious disgust. “As much as it sickens me, I can at least understand your reasoning before everything fell apart on you—eliminate Shego, alter or delete the AV records from your rig, and then claim you had to kill her in defense of Agents Walker and Montrosant’s lives I’d expect. It could have worked…”
   Gallows eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “No, I di— I don’t…”
   “Be quiet, you lying sack ‘a shit!” Magnus snarled. “You think we don’t know exactly what happened now?” The irate Commander held up a pair of red-marked evidence bags, one containing the smashed remains of a Global Justice AV unit, and the other a big, bulky automatic. “Search teams recovered these from the sewers, and a forensics unit found each and every piece of the slug that hit the sidewalk, on top of calculating the trajectory it had to take to cause that impact damage. We know where you fired from and how you took that shot!”
   “You don’t understand!” Gallows’ demeanor shifted mercurially, all fervent outrage and fixed resolve now. “Those twisted freaks have too many advantages! If we don’t change the game we’ll never beat them! Just look what she did to me! I did what needed to be done! I had to—”
   “What?” Betty cut Gallows off sharply. “Throw the engagement protocols of every legitimate law enforcement agency out the window? Completely ignore the GJ-UN charter, putting our worldwide operational status at risk? Plunge the world into total chaos by breaking the Covenant of Thorns, the one thing that keeps super villains somewhat in check instead of randomly striking out against civilians and population centers without cause or gain, simply because they can? That stops them from pursuing doomsday scenarios that would wipe out every single living thing on the face of the Earth? The one thing that if broken could bring them all together in an unprecedented and terrifying level of cooperation?” Betty paused for a split second, then continued on with equal fury. “Or did you perhaps mean that you needed to murder what was, to the best of your knowledge at the time, an unarmed, teenage civilian who was at the very least partially subdued, because she had the temerity to interfere with you in your self-appointed role as judge, jury, and executioner? Is that what you meant?”
   Still seething, Betty stood flushed, breathing hard, and glaring at Gallows for several long, hard moments while she sought to calm herself. Eventually, she spoke once more, only now, her rage was a calm, chillingly frightening thing.
   “Understand this, Mister Gallows; if it were within my power, you would even now be ascending your namesake to hang from the neck until dead. Equally, were it not for a decided lack of witnesses and victims willing to bring charges against you, as well as the….” Betty’s features twisted in a sneer of distaste, “consequences, to Global Justice should word of this incident become widespread, I would do everything I could to assure that you never saw the light of day again. As it is, what I can do is summarily dismiss you from the ranks of Global Justice with none of the standard benefits whatsoever. You will receive no severance, pension, or insurance settlements, and I will use my considerable influence to insure that you never again hold a position of any kind within the Intelligence or law enforcement communities. In short, Mister Gallows, this would be your burn notice!”
   “W-what? You can’t do that to me!”
   “On the contrary, Mister Gallows; I can and I have. You’re done; you’re in the wind; be grateful that’s all it is. I’d wish you luck, but honestly, I don’t care if you live or die from this point on.”
   With that, Betty turned and headed for the door, ignoring Gallows’ increasingly loud protests and demands utterly. It was only after she left that the injured man noticed Commander Blackthorn was still in the room, lingering well behind his departed superior. The moment the big, burly black man saw that Gallows had once again noticed him, he spoke with a cold, cruel gleam in his narrowed eyes.
   “Count yourself lucky; I wanted to throw you in a five-by-five cell and brick up the entrance… that or just shoot you in the face.” Blackthorn paused a moment for effect, then added; “Oh, and have fun with the hospital bills too; we’re not picking up those either!”
   After that final, somewhat satisfying twist of the knife, Blackthorn turned, yanked the door open, and swiftly exited the room, leaving the bellowing, one-armed man all alone in his impotent, self-righteous anger, abject misery, and the considerable self-pity stemming from it.
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Revelations of Destiny