Kim Possible Porn Story: Summertime Blues – Chapter 3

Assorted Legal Mumbo-Jumbo:

As usual, I dont own Kim Possible or anything associated with her. All KP-related items are the property of the Disney Channel and their army of ravenous lawyers who are the reason that Im writing this. I suppose that the story idea itself could be construed as mine, but that doesnt mean that the legal eagles out there wont try to claim otherwise.

In any case, read the story, leave a review, and look both ways before crossing the street.

(The preceding contains 100 Grade A disclaimer.)

Enjoy!

– Chapter Three –

Screaming through the thin air of high altitude, a man-made meteor surged forward, piercing the shockwave of trans-sonic speed with the ease of a needle puncturing a party balloon. Soaring high above the clouds and weather fronts that plagued the existence of earth-bound mortals, it cruised almost effortlessly, carrying its two passengers through a tranquil realm of perpetually blue sky, unmolested by the elements of either man or nature.

Yes, Sky Rat was really putting on a show right now, displaying the engineering and aerodynamics that made it one of the best interceptors of the modern era. A technological marvel that tested the outer boundaries of physics, and pushed the science of engineering to its limits.

Inside the protective cocoon of the cockpit, however, the mood was anything but tranquil. The young couple had gotten off the ground from El Katar without a hitch, and were on trajectory to execute a sub-orbital injection when Wade had unexpectedly beeped in. There were some ominous rumblings coming out of Europe, and as usual, Global Justice was unavailable to investigate at the moment.

Kim sometimes wondered just what the multinational crime-fighting organization did with their supposedly multi-billion-dollar budget. Like most other cops, they seemed to never be around when you needed them, and this was something that she found troubling. Perhaps it was the fact that it meant her next few hours would be spent infiltrating yet another lair, instead of sitting comfortably at home, curled up on the sofa, enjoying some quality time with Ron. Whatever the reason, however, she was tweaked and tweaked hard!

She sat slumped down in Sky Rats rear seat, arms crossed grouchily over her chest, stewing in her own disgruntled juices. She was about to start muttering something about Ronshine deprivation when an electronic chime broke the silence of the enclosed space and drew her attention to the console in front of her.

Her curiosity now piqued, she quickly went to work. The past several weeks were a time she had spent hard at work, learning the responsibilities of a RIO and getting to know the position forwards and backwards. She had thrown herself into the training with the same gusto and fierce determination that she brought to everything, spending hours on end studying manuals, practicing commands and procedures, and running through drills until she could operate the rear-seat controls of an F-14 while blindfolded. She knew every button, every switch and every display almost instinctively, and she could perform complex tasks and functions with a speed and dexterity that even a battle-hardened ace would find impressive. Rons skill and ability had proven that he belonged at the controls of this great bird: Now she had proven that she belonged right behind him. As always, they were a team: An unstoppable one-two punch that could accomplish anything it set itself upon.

Moving her slender fingers deftly over the controls, she pulled up a profile of the alert and checked the detail report. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned through the data before her.

You awake up there, Ron? she inquired.

Well I should hope so. Ron responded. Why? Whadaya got?

An approaching bogey is what. Twelve oclock level and closing. Kim professionally replied.

Friendly or hostile?

Too soon to tell. Might be a scout for our bad guy du jour. Might just be an executive jet of some sort.

Well Im not gonna shoot it down if I dont know who it is!

Fair nuff. He has radar, though.

Pulse or Doppler?

Doppler, it looks like Why?

Never mind and hang on!

In one swift motion, Ron gunned the throttle and pulled up sharp, pointing Sky Rats nose straight toward a towering overhead cloudbank. He climbed vertically for several moments, allowing the bleach-white tendrils of the cloud to completely envelop them before gradually easing back on the throttle, allowing the roar of the engines to slightly subside. Slowly, Sky Rat began to decelerate, losing airspeed until the speedometer readout on Kims console dropped below stall speed. Green eyes went wide as speed fell even further, dropping like a stone until the gauge finally bottomed out at zero miles per hour. At that moment, she fully expected them to start tumbling back to earth, but instead of the gut-churning sensation of an uncontrolled freefall, the only feeling she experienced was one of floating.

It took a moment for her to comprehend what was happening. Ron had found a sweet spot on the throttle where the engines output was just enough to overcome the force of gravity, but insufficient to provide forward motion. They were in a sense, hovering like a helicopter, 36,000 feet above the European continent, with their heads pointed slightly downward toward the earth below.

She was just about to ask how this maneuver, impressive as it was, could be construed as evasive, when the sound of approaching engines stole the words from her throat. She didnt dare speak, as if the simple sound of her voice might give away their position. She released a breath she wasnt aware she had been holding when the sound subsided in the distance, and Ron winged the plane over into a dive before resuming their original heading.

Okay So would you mind explaining to me the point behind all of that? She asked, more than a little curious about the nature of the maneuver she had just experienced.

Its called the Cobra, KP. Ron smugly smiled, keeping his eyes focused forward. Its a little trick that Soviet pilots came up with a few years ago. They always claimed it could only be done with the MiG-29, but I guess we both know better now, dont we?

And just exactly how does that qualify as an evasive maneuver? Kim pressed.

Well you see Its like this, KP. Ron began to explain. Most modern aircraft use Doppler Radar systems. Now thats something that may sound like its scary complicated, but it really just means you have radar system that looks for objects in motion, rather than just the objects themselves. That way if youre looking for say an airplane below you the radar isnt confused by the ground underneath it. Itll only see the motion of the plane.

Oh, I get it! Kim suddenly exclaimed. By hovering motionless, you can trick the system!

Exactly, KP! Think of it as poor mans stealth.

Totally spankin! Kim cooed from her position behind Ron. Who knew that my BF could be so devious?

Maybe I am and maybe Im not. Ron replied, turning over his shoulder to flash a mischievous grin in his GFs direction. The exchange had them both laughing out loud within seconds.

Well then take a heading, Doctor Devious. Kim lightly chuckled, her laughter slowly subsiding. Lets go vanquish some villains!

It was getting close to dusk by the time they made their final approach. The target was a small village in southern Poland that Sky Rats onboard digital maps labeled as Bochnia. Wade had sent along a reference file that offered something more in terms of detail, however.

According to this, the original name of this places was Salzberg. Kim informed Ron as she looked the file over.

Salt Mountain? Ron pondered aloud. He had managed to pick up a little German over the years, mostly by watching old reruns of Hogans Heroes on late-night TV. What Do they make a lot of potato chips here or something?

Actually, they mine salt, and theyve been doing it for some time. Kim continued. Bochnia is home to the worlds oldest salt mine. They started digging the thing in the year 1248.

Thats a lot of salt. Ron observed, stating the obvious.

Its also a lot of abandoned tunnels under the city, Kim pointed out.

Sounds lair-ish.

Thats what Im thinking.

So were infiltrating a salt mine then, eh? Ron pondered wistfully. Should I be worried about developing a thyroid condition or anything?

Doubtful.

Well okay then But if I start coming down with a goiter

Youll be fine, Ron! Now just keep your eyes on the clouds, please and thank-you. Kim chided, hoping against hope that this would be over quickly, and the two of them would be home in time for dinner.

When you experience it up close, a salt mine is a lot like an ice cavern: just without the freeze-your-digits-off cold, as Ron would undoubtedly put it. What little light that may be present is instantaneously reflected and refracted by the crystalline structure of the environment, infusing everything with an other-worldly glow. The surreal iridescence puts ones mind to thoughts of an alien landscape: New and wondrous, and fraught with unknown peril.

For the two teenagers now plumbing this subterranean labyrinth, however, the only description that came to mind was freaky.

Man Its like a ghost world down here. Ron observed.

Yeah, and youd better be careful or else youll be a ghost. Kim warned. These handrails look so rusty, I think theyd snap like a twig if you put any weight on them.

Good point. KP. Ron agreed, instinctively moving toward the center of the passageway they were now probing. Its like Rust City down here. Whats up with that, anyway?

Salt and steel Do the math.

Uh-huh Rust! Rufus squeaked from his perch on Rons shoulder, blowing a raspberry for effect.

What are you now a metallurgist? Ron indignantly asked, turning toward his small, pink traveling companion.

Whered you learn a word like that? Kim suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

I heard it on the Knowing Channel.

You watch the Knowing Channel?

Meh, I caught a piece of it while surfing last week.

Riiiiiiiiiight

Well its not like I intentionally learned anything! Ron added defensively as the pair continued walking. Its just that sometimes you catch a certain scene and GAHHHHHHH!

Kim didnt even need to turn around to know what had happened, but took a quick glance behind herself anyway. The glance revealed a large opening in what had only a few moments before been a well-corroded drainage grate.

Now, however, it was nothing more than a gaping hole in the floor.

Not again! Kim silently lamented, her heart already racing, her mind fearing the worst.

Ron! she called out into the pitch-black chasm. Are you all right? Say something!

Something. A weak voice softly rose up from the depths.

Well, at least your sense of humor wasnt hurt. She sarcastically observed, a wave of relief rushing over her.

Yeah, the ol Stoppable funny bone is un-fractured. Ron jokingly agreed. Fortunately this concrete was here to break my fall.

Lets hope thats the only thing you broke. Can you climb back up?

Id have to be able to see before I could do that.

Wheres your flashlight?

Back on the plane.

Well thats just the perfect place for it, isnt it?

Hey! I wasnt anticipating having to use the thing, okay?

When going into an abandoned mine shaft?

Ya know, this convo isnt helping resolve the sitch!

Youre right. Ill be down in just a second.

She had just started to reach for her grappler when something in the back of her mind began twitching. It was a mysterious sixth sense that she had always seemed to carry with her: A strange little voice that alerted her to when unseen danger was lurking nearby, hiding in the shadows, just out of range

And at the moment, that voice was positively screaming.

Turning slowly around, her gaze was met by that of a dozen red-clad henchmen, their shock sticks crackling with bolts of blue energy. They were the typical, muscle-bound goons that seemed so common in the villain community, and their expressions seemed anything but friendly.

Something tells me you guys arent with the welcoming committee. Kim goaded, assuming a fighting stance.

You got that right, pompom. One of the goons sneered, leveling his staff at her.

Figures And for your information, cheerleading is so last season. Kim quipped in return, preparing herself for the attack that she knew was coming.

She didnt have to wait long, as it turned out. Two of the goons charged in unison, one following directly behind his partner. Kim dropped into a crouch and leapt, executing a handspring of the first attackers head, sending him sprawling to the floor. Then, redirecting her momentum, she flipped head-over-heels and landed a perfect flying kick to the second goons jaw, instantly putting him out for the count.

Two down Ten to go. She thought to herself, as she slowly backed up, regarding the now regrouping henchmen before her. Her ever watchful gaze caught one of them slipping out to her right in an obvious flanking attempt. Keeping one eye on the main group, she watched him warily through her peripheral vision, waiting for him to make his move.

When he did, she was ready, dropping down into a crouch and executing a leg sweep that sent the hapless man sailing through the salt-laced air, slamming head first into a stack of packing crates at the far side of the room. Another attack then came from in front of her, to which she responded by sidestepping the punch, grabbing her assailants arm and redirecting his momentum so that he went flailing back in the direction he came, taking down two of his colleagues in the process.

Six down. Kim inwardly smiled. This is actually easier that I EEEEEE-YAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

Searing hot pain surged through every nerve in her body as the business end of a shock stick was pressed firmly against the small of her back. While she had been occupied with the first two attackers, a third had snuck around on her left flank and slipped past her defenses. As she fell to the floor, the last tendrils of consciousness fleeing her mind, her final thought was of the tremendous mistake she had just made.

From his position several feet below the action, the sounds of battle reached Rons ears. The crystalline walls and vaulted ceilings of the mine acted like a giant, natural echo chamber, allowing noise to carry clearly over great distance. The series of grunts and moans he heard was like music to his ears, as he knew full well that each one signified another henchman biting the dust.

But when he heard the anguished scream, however, he instantly knew that things had gone terribly wrong. The following silence did nothing to alleviate his anxiety, and slowly he began to realize that it was now all on him. Whatever the situation was, and whoever was behind it, he was now the only thing standing between them and success. He had to find Kim, stop the plot, and get everyone out.

But first, he had to find a way out of this drainage culvert.

In the inky blackness that surrounded him, he could see little to nothing. He tried straining his eyes against the oppressive darkness, but the result was negligible at best. He needed to find another way of plumbing the recesses of the space he was now confined to, but just how exactly: That was the question.

It was at this moment that a stray thought fluttered through his head. A sentiment long forgotten: lost in the jumble of cheat codes, take-out menus, and wrestling moves that continually cluttered his mind. It was something Sensei had said to him during his week at Yamanuchi:

The true warrior does not fight by sight alone, Stoppable san. He relies on all his senses. In this way, he can detect danger in all forms and directions, and meet all threats in turn. This is the way of the complete warrior: It takes far more than a mere seed to grow a tree, after all. Soil, water and sunlight must all be present for nature to produce forth its bounty, but when such things are provided, even the lowliest acorn can yield the mightiest oak.

It was a pretty good gardening tip, he had to admit, but Senseis words also had a larger point to them. Although it seemed downright redundant in the darkness that now enveloped him, Ron closed his eyes and focused on listening, rather than seeing. The stillness of the space seemed overpowering at first, but soon, small details of sound began to emerge.

There was the faint dripping of water coming from somewhere to his right, probably falling from the now-destroyed grate that he had plunged through. From his left, a trickle of running water could be heard, and from the same vicinity, he could feel a slight breeze across his face.

It was this sensation that intrigued him most of all. He knew just enough about hydrodynamics to realize that water going into a drain has to flow somewhere, and that flow requires some sort of a passage. He quickly realized that the sense of flowing water and air meant he had located that passage, and if it allowed water a way out, then perhaps it would do the same for him.

Keeping his eyes tightly closed, he began inching his way toward the sound. Slowly, cautiously, advancing with more of a shuffle than a step, he moved forward, holding his hands straight out in front of him to guard against any unseen obstacles. He groped blindly about, searching, straining, trying desperately to find anything familiar. Then, something familiar did suddenly find its way into his hand

Pain!

Yelping sharply, he grabbed his wrist and began to blow vigorously on his screaming fingers. He didnt yet know what he had struck, but whatever it was, it was hard, and unless he missed his guess, metallic. After several seconds, the soreness in his digits began to subside, and for the first time in what seemed like hours, he chanced to open his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that the aforementioned organs were no longer completely useless. There was a small mount of light in the immediate vicinity, and with his eyes already dark-adapted, he could actually see a small amount of detail. It appeared that in his blind stumbling, he had left the main chamber and had progressed several yards down a large sewer tunnel. On the wall to his immediate left was the source of his current discomfort: A steel ladder somewhat rusty, perhaps, but a ladder nonetheless. The light he currently enjoyed was being cast down through the slats of another drainage grate, several feet above him, and as fate would have it, it was exactly where the ladder led as well.

Booyah! he softly whispered to himself as he began to climb. Now were moving up in the world!

Unfocused eyes strained to see, blinking back against the restraints of unconsciousness, struggling for familiar shapes in an unfamiliar environment.

Kim groaned dejectedly as she woke up to what she could only describe as an all-too familiar sitch. In true hero/captive fashion, she was shackled to some large, unidentifiable piece of equipment in a room filled with all manner of high-tech looking devices. It was the standard evil lair in every way imaginable: So much so, that if you looked up the word clich in the dictionary, youd probably see a picture of the space right beside it.

Taking note of her surroundings, she pondered just how she had gotten herself into this sitch. Well that really wasnt much of a mystery, she had to admit. Her mistake had been going into a fight without back up. When faced with the henchman strike team, she should have simply turned back around and proceeded down the hole to find Ron. Then, the two of them could have faced the threat together, just as they had always faced every other threat before. Working together as a team, mutually watching each others backs, they were nearly unbeatable.

But instead of making the smart move in this way, she had let her ego and ambition get the best of her. Her natural Kimmness had bred overconfidence, and now with her current sitch, she was paying the price.

And what an unexpected price it was. Looking around at the large number of henchmen who could be seen milling about, Kim quickly realized that the bad guys in this particular case had really upped the ante. Most of the hired goons carried the traditional shock sticks, but a select few of them strutted through the main room of the lair with sub machine guns slung haughtily from their shoulders, wearing their weapons as a badge of honor before their colleagues.

The sight caused Kim to swallow hard. For as long as she could remember, she had hated guns. The mere sight of one was usually enough to make her sick, and she had always been silently thankful that the villains she fought had never seen it fit to implement them. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to center herself when an all-too familiar voice broke into the forefront of her awareness.

Well, well, well Look whos finally awake. Did ya have a nice little nap there, Princess? the voice taunted, eliciting a subdued growl from Kim.

Shego! Kim hissed, glaring daggers at the familiar form of the green-clad villainess. I shouldve guessed youd pop back up onto the radar sooner or later.

Oh really? Why, did you miss me? Shego replied in a mockingly sweet tone.

Yeah Just like I miss Bonnie, midterms and having the flu on my birthday. Kim shot back. So what brings you back to the global-domination business? Get tired of fighting for control of the remote?

Actually, the whole award ceremony left somewhat of a bad taste in Doctor Ds mouth, believe it or not. Shego replied flatly. You see, before theyd give him the medal, there were these security procedures and

Dah-aahhhh a raspy and equally familiar voice came from just beyond Kims peripheral vision, drawing the attention of both women. We agreed never to speak of that again!

No, you agreed to never speak of it again, honey. Shego shot back. I made no such deal. Now as I was saying, Pumpkin Doctor D. was

IM NOT LISTENING! IM NOT LISTENING! Drakken shouted, clapping his hands over his ears. OH-OHHHH SAY CAN YOU SEEEEEE!

He really doesnt like to talk about that incident. Shego smirked, regarding the ranting form of her something-more-than-just-an-employer.

Good! Drakken shouted, allowing his tirade to subside somewhat. Now then, can we get on with the

Thats why I got it on DVD!

GAHHHHHH!

Swiftly, Shego produced a small remote from the ankle holster of her trademark cat suit and brought the large video screen at the far side of the room to life. An instant later, all those in the room were treated to a flickering image of the blue-hued doctor, sitting strapped to a chair and hooked up to what appeared to be some sort of advanced polygraph machine. A voice that was at once anonymous and ominous could be heard coming from off screen, asking questions directed at Drakken.

Do you harbor any ambitions of world conquest? the voice flatly asked.

No! came Drakkens one word reply.

BZZZZZT! The machine screeched, indicating the presence of an untruth.

Okay, so maybe I did, but thats wasnt why I did it! Drakken amended.

DING! The soothing tone of a bell told all in the room that the good doctor was telling the truth.

He checks out. Okay sir, youre free to go. The anonymous voice informed.

Good! Drakken replied. Because Ive got a hot date tonight.

BZZZZZT!

A date

BZZZZZT!

Dinner with friends

BZZZZZT!

Dinner alone

BZZZZZT!

Watching TV alone

BZZZZZT!

Alright! Alright! Im gonna sit at home all night and ogle the ladies in the Victorias Secret catalogue!

BZZZZZT!

Sears catalogue.

DING!

Now would you UNHOOK this thing, already? I dont deserve this kind of shabby treatment!

BZZZZZT!

The screen went dark as Shego mercifully killed the picture, leaving a room full of snickering henchmen and one enraged villain in its wake.

Shego Drakken growled, his shoulders visibly shaking under his trench coat. Why must you constantly push my buttons like that?

Well since I know where they all are, I just cant help myself. Shego sing-songed, walking up behind to the mad doctor and putting her hands on his shoulders. Besides, she cooed, Youre just so cute when you get worked up like that.

Kim flinched slightly at the affectionate display. She had known since the graduation incident that the two neer-do-wells had hooked up, but there was still something about the whole sitch that screamed sick and wrong.

All revulsion aside, however, another small part of her had to smile at the two partners in crime. The story of a leader and his-or-her sidekick discovering feelings for each other hit just a little too close to home, after all. The parallels between this weird evil family, as Drakken had once called it, and her own relationship with Ron were striking to say the least.

This last thought quickly set her mind to other issues, however, as her thoughts were immediately directed back to Ron. She had left him at the bottom of that hole, after all, and had received no knowledge of his condition since. She closed her eyes and said a quick, silent prayer, asking whoever was listening for her Ronnie to be all right.

Skulking through the shadows, a lone figure moved stealthily through the labyrinth of tunnels and passageways that made up this underground city. Taking great care to avoid giving away his presence, he repeatedly dodged patrols and security cameras, ducking down secondary tunnels and antechambers as needed. At one point, he was even forced to dive headlong into a nearby room, narrowly avoiding detection by a patrol that had surprised him from around a corner.

Laying stone still and barely daring to breathe, he waited until the sound of footsteps had completely receded before he dared move from his hiding place.

Blinking to clear his vision in the dimly lit room, he took note of several stacks of crates that lined the far wall of the space. To the left was a series of cabinets, and in the rooms center was a stack of well-worn cardboard boxes. One corner of the room contained several shock sticks, all of them neatly bundled and leaned against the wall. It didnt take long for him to recognize this as a storage room of some sort.

Hmmm I wonder if theres anything useful in here? Ron pondered aloud, rising to his feet and moving to investigate his surroundings. He had been in similar situations enough times to know he needed a plan of some sort: Something creative and unexpected that could give him an edge Something that the bad guys wouldnt be expecting, and that wouldnt result in great bodily harm to innocent people; especially himself.

The shock sticks could certainly be handy, he surmised, but hed have to get close enough to use one of them, and that was a tall order when you were likely facing 40-to-one odds. He would need a distraction of some sort to make it work, but that was normally his own department. How in the world could he be his own distraction, and still get the job done? It was a difficult question to say the least.

Rummaging through the cabinets proved disappointing, as the only item even remotely of value that he found was a roll of duct tape. In the past he had heard many people claim that the stuff could be used for just about anything, and he silently hoped that included taking down a doomsday plot.

Turning his attention to the boxes at the center of the room, he soon had a pile of opened, upturned cartons scattered throughout the cluttered space. Most of the confounded things seemed to contain henchman uniforms in sizes that were way too large to fit his skinny frame. A few of the boxes near the bottom of the stack, however, seemed heavier and more solid than the others. It didnt take long for him to dig them out and tear open one of the corrugated paper lids, exposing the contents to full view.

Alert the media, Rufus! He smiled, reaching down to pull a dark, fabric-covered item from the now shredded box. The Ron-man has just had what may very well be an idea!

So, now that weve got a few minutes of down time, why dont you fill us in on the big plan, Doc. Shego remarked, absent-mindedly studying one of the many control consoles the filled the great, domed chamber.

But Shego, Drakken whined, I was just about to start my big, suspenseful build-up!

Shegos only response was a withering glare that caused the blue-hued scientist to shrink back on himself like a mouse caught in the open.

Alright, fine! he huffed in resignation. Youre familiar with the electro-conductive properties of salt, are you not?

That would be affirmative. I took high school chemistry too, after all.

Well then, knowing that, you can understand that these caverns are like a giant electrical capacitor.

I suppose they are, in a strange way, yeah. The evil sidekick replied, not entirely sure where her employer was going with all of this. But whats that got to do with the price of eggs?

Simple, Shego Capacitors store energy.

Well that just explains everything, now doesnt it? Shego indignantly mocked.

Narrrrgh! These caves are like a massive battery, Alright! Drakken screamed. I can use them to siphon and store electricity from the world above!

And theyll have to pay to get it back. Shego observed, finally catching on.

Precisely! Drakken shouted, practically dancing with glee. Financial independence, here we come!

What? No taking over the world this time? Kim asked from her position off to the side of things.

Global domination is an expensive business. Drakken growled, turning back to his machines. You have no idea what my overhead is like.

I can imagine. Kim sighed, turning to glance toward Shego. Why do you work for this guy, anyway? she asked the green-themed villainess.

Hes the only one who offers dental. Came Shegos flat reply.

Unbeknownst to any of the aforementioned parties, a shadowy figure was at that moment creeping amongst the miscellaneous equipment that cluttered the far side of the room. With the silence and swiftness of a ninja master, he slid himself into position behind an abandoned storage tank and pulled a small object from his pocket.

Okay Rufus, remember the plan. He whispered to the tiny creature now crouched in his hands. Ill draw their attention. When that happens, you move in and disable the equipment. Once youve done as much damage as you can, try to free Kim. Ill cover your retreat when youre done.

The tiny mole rat drew himself to attention and snapped a salute before jumping down and scampering off to his ready position. As Ron waited for the moment to initiate his plan, he felt a cold shudder travel down his spine.

From his concealed position in the shadows, he could clearly see the automatic weapons carried by some of the henchmen, and the sight gave him pause. After all, he was rather well acquainted with the workings and capabilities of the MP-5 Navy.

Early in his flight training he had received a week of small-arms instruction. It was important knowledge to have, the Eagles felt, in case a pilot was ever brought down in hostile territory. Being able to fight your way out of a sticky situation was important, after all, when you were surrounded by large numbers of people who didnt exactly have you on their Christmas card lists.

A large portion of this instruction, it had turned out, had been based around the diminutive nine-millimeter automatic he was now facing. He had spent an entire day carrying it, learning its mechanics and operation, and using it in both target practice and simulated live-fire drills. As weapons went it was small, light and lethal, and it commanded the respect of all those who had ever experienced its power first hand.

Checking his watch to make sure that Rufus had made it to his position, Ron took a deep breath and steeled himself for what he was about to do.

Well, Mad Dog Any last words? he quietly asked himself, tightly wringing his hands around the shock stick he carried. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Yeah, he answered himself. I sure wish I had a better idea of what I was doing than this!

Letting loose with a primordial scream, Ron leapt forward from his hiding place and commando-rolled into the open. With a quick spin, he pressed the end of the shock rod firmly into the small of a nearby henchmans back, causing the man to fall with a muffled groan.

Startled by the sudden commotion, a nearby henchman turned toward his companion, only to catch the opposite end of Rons rod in his gut. He yelped in pain and slumped to the ground, the consciousness having been driven from his mind by the intense blast of energy.

A third henchman now charged into the fray, leveling his shock rod like a medieval lance. Ron spun around, neatly parrying the blow with his own rod and swinging the butt end up to catch the hapless goon squarely between the shoulder blades. The result was a perfect belly flop onto the cold floor that sent the man skidding head first into a nearby wall.

Twirling the shock rod in front of him self like a bo staff, Ron now backed up slowly as four henchmen formed a defensive line in front of him, blue bolts of energy crackling from the ends of their staffs. The two opposing parties sneered at each other as they faced off in the center of the room.

Well, what are you clown waiting for? Drakken asked in irritation from his position on a raised platform that apparently served as the nerve center of his operation.

Spurred on by their employers words, the four men advanced, and unwittingly gave Ron just the window he was looking for. Summoning the most ferocious battle cry he could muster, he charged forward, staff at the ready, making a B-line directly for the gap between the two center-most goons.

Closing the range at break-neck speed, Ron watched as the two henchmen raised their staffs and prepared to strike. He responded by letting loose with a final burst of acceleration and diving forward into a belly slide, squirting neatly between the two adversaries. Thrown off by the sudden shift in Rons tactics, the goons staffs passed harmlessly over him and impacted squarely with the chests of their wielders, causing both men to scream and fall.

In a flash, Ron was back on his feet, ready to take on the next wave of attackers.

Oh yeah! How do you like me now, boys? he shouted, twirling his staff about. Looks like the sidekick came to GAHHHHHH!

Suddenly the room was filled with a staccato chatter. Ron screamed and his body jerked violently as a series of small crimson geysers erupted in rapid succession from his chest. Kim could only watch in stunned horror as his eyes went wide before rolling back in his head. He dropped to his knees, the shock stick clattering uselessly to the floor beside him. Then he slumped to the floor, coming to rest on his left side, a pool of bright red already starting to form around him.

Her senses muted by a cloud that was equal parts shock and disbelief, Kim wasnt even aware of her own anguished screams as she called out to his unmoving form

RONNNNNNNNNNN!

Authors Notes:

Well now, hows that for a cliffie? Is Ron really dead? How could he ever survive something like that? If he really is gone, then what happens in the rest of the story? All Ill say is that Im not saying nuttin. Youll just have to wait for Chapter Four to find out. (Laughs maniacally!)

RIO: The RIO, (Radar Interception Officer), is a key position in the operation of the Grumman F-14 Tomcat. Seated directly behind the pilot, the Rio functions as the electronic eyes and ears of the plane, monitoring the onboard radar and communication systems and relaying important information to the pilot in front. By maintaining situational awareness in this way, the pilot is left free to concentrate on other duties, such as flying the plane.

The Cobra: A delicate maneuver developed by Soviet Air Force pilots in the 1980s. By using a jets powerful thrust to hover in mid-air, it was discovered that pilots could confuse NATO operated Doppler radar stations enough to avoid detection. It was claimed by Soviet pilots that only the MiG-29 possessed power sufficient for completing such a maneuver.

The name Cobra is derived from the act of sharply raising an aircraft upward into a vertical position: Something that resembles the motion of a venomous cobra preparing to strike.

MiG-29 Fulcrum: First conceived in 1969 as a response to American aircraft such as the McDonnell-Douglas F-15 Eagle and Lockheed F-16 Fighting Falcon, The MiG-29 almost never got off the ground. Plagued by ambiguous and over-reaching design parameters, the program quickly outstripped the abilities of engineers at the Sukhoi Corporation, who were unable to deliver on the requirements of weight, speed, maneuverability and heavy weaponry.

High-ranking officers in the Soviet Air Force soon saw the errors of their ways, however, and the program was split in two, resulting in the creation of both a heavy fighter and a light fighter. The heavy fighter program, known as the Tyazhyolyy Perspektivnyy Frontovoy Istrebitel, (Heavy Advanced Tactical Fighter), was retained by Sukhoi, resulting in the creation of the SU-27 Flanker. The Lyogkiy Perspektivnyy Frontovoy Istrebitel, (Light Advanced Tactical Fighter), was taken over by the Mikoyan Design Bureau, and the result was the MiG-29.

First flown on October 6, 1977, the MiG-29 is a fourth-generation, Mach-two capable air-superiority fighter with air-to-ground nuclear capability. Variants of the Fulcrum are currently in service with the air forces of several different countries, including Russia, Cuba, India, Iraq, Iran and Ukraine.

Bochnia: Located on the Raba River in southern Poland, about 35 kilometers southeast of Krakow, Bochnia boasts a population of approximately 30,000 people. Founded in the early middle ages, the city is first mentioned in administrative church documents dating from the year 1198 A.D.

The discovery of a major vein of rock salt in the year 1248 drew popular interest, and the first organized mining commenced with the granting of mineral rights by the local nobility on February 27, 1253. Mining activity has been more or less continuous ever since, and the result of more that 800 years of digging has been a virtual city beneath the city. Vast networks of tunnels and chambers now honeycomb the ground beneath the ancient streets on multiple levels. Many such chambers have been abandoned over the centuries, while others have been converted to different uses. One such section has been converted to an underground sanitarium, while another chamber was reformed by generations of miners into the world-famous Salt Church: An entire chapel, complete with vaulted ceilings and an ornate altar, hand carved and painstakingly sculpted directly from solid rock salt.

H&K MP-5 Navy: Officially labeled as the Maschinenpistole 5, (Machine Pistol, Model Number Five), this weapon is a nine-millimeter sub machine gun that was first developed in 1964 by engineers from the West German manufacturing firm of Heckler & Koch. Building on the success of their G3 rifle, H&K developed a series of smaller caliber weapons, all of which used an adapted version of the G3s firing mechanism. Four weapons from this group were ultimately placed into production, and of those four, the MP-5 has become the most commercially successful.

Renown for its fast cyclical rate, (800 rounds per minute), and for the accuracy provided by its closed-bolt design, the MP-5 has become a favorite with military organizations and police forces the world over. Surprisingly however, to spite the weapons German origins, the German army is one of the few military institutions to never adopt the MP-5 into its arsenal. The Bundeswehr, as the German army is known, instead opted for a version of the Israeli-designed Uzi, built under license in Belgium.

As a side note, the last of my new computer components were delivered this morning, so once the presents are all opened tomorrow, Ill start the arduous task of assembling this beast. Unfortunately this also means that I will most likely be offline for the next few days, and unable to update or reply to reviews during that time. Rest assured, however, that the wheels of creativity are still turning, and that Ill try my best to get one more chapter out before the end of the year.

And so, my fellow stockholders While I silently skulk back to my hidey-hole and begin the arduous task of writing my way out of this mess, I leave you with the normal rules in place: Read and review to your hearts content All input is welcome. If you feel the need to flame, then take it somewhere else: This story is strictly a non-smoking flight.

In any case, merry Christmas to all, and Ill see you again with the next chapter!

Nutzkie