Mission: Possible 007 (Chapter Seven)

 

Chapter Seven: The Ultimatum

            Bond and Hunt arrived at Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, hours later – too many hours to have passed for either man. The best they could have done was pray neither Perry nor Kim perished at the hands of Blofeld. Accompanying them were Edna, Bellum, Hiro Hamada and his friends. As soon as they arrived, they found the ceremony to have long since ended; however, more than a few evil scientists were apprehended, much to the amusement of 007 and Ethan.

            “Ah, there you are, 007,” said M, who was there with the other Team superiors (Hunley, Monogram, and Dr. Director). Q, Luther, and a very disquieted Wade were in attendance as well, going over the footage they captured through the surveillance cameras, shortly before all of them cut out upon Blofeld’s entrance.

            There were two other men as well – one middle-aged and the other young, both in distinguishing suits and ties. M introduced them to Bond and Hunt, “Our associates from the ‘Kingsman’ district – Harry Hart and Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin.”

            “There are more Team agents out there?” the baffled Ethan remarked.

            “It’s a big world, Mr. Hunt,” Hart said. “And it’s a big threat we’re dealing with.”

            “You’re English,” Bond detected Hart’s accent. “You’re not MI6?”

            “We’re a bit more private, Mr. Bond. The Kingsman agency was founded towards preserving peace and protecting life, operating at the highest level of discretion, above the politics and bureaucracy of government-run spy organizations.”

            “And yet, here you guys are, working with government-run spy organizations,” Ethan brazenly indicated.

            “Desperate times,” Hart abbreviated on the idiom.

            Luther and Wade suddenly stepped into the exchange, the latter doing his absolute best to keep it together as he explained, “We haven’t been able to gather much from the footage before it cut out…other than the activity that occurred outside the ceremony.”

            “Blofeld and his associate,” Bond gathered.

            “He called him ‘Hinx,’” Eggsy informed. “Huge bloke. Looked like a wrestler.”

            “Did Blofeld say anything that may be helpful in finding where he might’ve taken the girl and the platypus?” M asked.

            His last conversation with Blofeld quite the eventful one, Bond recounted what words struck him the most: “Find an island to seclude yourself from the rest of the world.”

            “What’s that, 007?” M inquired.

            “One of Blofeld’s parting remarks,” Bond stated. “He suggested that I should find a secluded island – my own personal heaven or hell.”

            “Hell,” Hunt pondered heavily on the term. “Alcatraz.”

            Bond affirmed Hunt’s deduction with a nod. “Alcatraz was once believed to be an inescapable ‘Hell,’ due to the strong currents and cold water around the island.”

            “Alcatraz is just offshore from San Francisco,” Hunley said. “It can’t be that easy, can it? The League have been under our noses this whole time?!”

            All of the sudden, Wade and Luther’s video surveillance equipment generated copious amounts of static. Neither of them knew why, until the face of Ernst Blofeld appeared on the screens. He sat in front of a wall of solid concrete, as he seemingly addressed the Team via live feed.

            “I must congratulate you and your Team on solving my riddle, James,” he said.

            “He’s hacked into systems,” Luther notified. “We can’t shut him down.”

            “I assure you’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Blofeld said in response to Luther’s statement. “I want to arrange an exchange: the lives of your two agents for Hiro Hamada.” Hiro’s body went rigid when he heard this. “You have ten hours to make your decision…or else I’ll leave the girl and the platypus’s bodies to find along the shores of Alcatraz Island.”

            The feed cut off from there.

            Wade’s breath shuddered from Blofeld’s ultimatum. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, turning to see Dr. Director offer him a reassuring smile. “Possible’s a tough kid – she’ll be alright,” she said. “And we will get her back.”

            “By exchanging Hiro for them?” Go-Go protested. “That’s not gonna happen!”

            “You’re absolutely right,” Bond concurred. “Because he and the rest of you lot are going to help us.”

            “Uh, say again?” a befuddled Fred uttered.

            “We’ve seen what you kids are capable of – what you’ve invented and how useful they can be on the field,” Hunt supported Bond’s strategy. “With a little help from Q, Miss Mode, and Dr. Bellum, you’ll have the means we need to save Kim and Perry. But, first, we’ll have to give Blofeld what he wants…or what he’s expecting.”

Mission: Possible 007 (Chapter Six)

 

Chapter Six: The Entrapment

            Kim felt like the Unification of Evil Ceremony had gone on forever. She would check the clock every so often to know how long the stupidity went for. When she glanced at it for the gazillionth time, she was discouraged to see that only half an hour had passed. I’m being punished, I just know it!

            Perry wasn’t any more comfortable than she was in his flimsy Lloyd Wexler disguise. It was obvious he was a platypus in a wig with glasses and a fake mustache, yet none of the evil scientists in attendance paid it any mind. If anything, they were more attentive to the festivities. For a bunch of evil geniuses, they were really dense.

            The night got weirder when the karaoke contest started, with the winner only receiving unlimited bragging rights.

            “Whose lame idea was this?” Kim found herself wondering aloud.

            “Why, it was yours, Heinz,” Roddenstein told her. “What’s wrong? Is that brain of yours shrinking in your old age?” He was really getting under Kim’s skin – or Doofenshmirtz’s skin, more like it.

            While Dr. Diminutive serenaded the crowd with his abysmal rendition of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” Kim was approached by Vanessa again. “I know you’re not my dad,” she revealed to her. “Who are you really?”

            “Don’t say anything.” Hearing his voice in her earpiece, Kim completely forgot Luther had been listening in with Wade, who followed by adding, “She is a Doofenshmirtz after all. There’s no telling if she can be trusted or not.”

            She initially followed their advice, just standing and staring at Vanessa. She imagined how stupidly awkward she looked while doing it with Doofenshmirtz’s face. That awkwardness motivated Kim to change her mind not a second later and tell Vanessa the truth.

            “You’re right…I’m not your father.” She could hear Wade and Luther groaning after the fact. “My name is Kim Possible, and I’m a spy. This is a disguise – a very lifelike and uncomfortable disguise – that I’m wearing.” She tugged on latex skin of her right cheek for emphasis, stretching it to unearthly proportions.

            “Freaky,” Vanessa smirked. Her amusement turned to concern as she considered, “Wait. Is my dad in danger? I mean, I know he’s evil – that’s his whole thing – but he’s still my dad. I haven’t heard or seen of him in a week. Is that why you’re wearing his face? Because he’s missing and you’re trying to find out what happened to him?”

            Kim didn’t know what else to tell her, and she couldn’t count on any assistance from Luther or Wade after she decided to go rogue. She was spared just as Dr. Diminutive’s performance ended and Roddenstein appeared onstage to mockingly challenge Kim, “Let’s see you grace us with your astounding pipes, Heinz.”

            It was a clear invitation for Kim to embarrass herself with Doofenshmirtz’s horrifying voice. Even Wade recommended, “Don’t give into it, Kim. He’s just baiting you.” However, not all of Wade’s instruction made it through communications. His voice scrambled in and out through Kim’s earpiece.

            She didn’t have a chance to ponder on what was causing it, with Roddenstein continuing to press her. Refusing to allow him to make a fool out of her/Doofenshmirtz any longer, she leapt onto the karaoke stage with a cartwheel that transitioned into a backflip. It was the second instance of the sudden inherited prowess “Heinz Doofenshmirtz” showcased that evening.

            Snatching the microphone from Roddenstein, Kim waited as he arranged DJ Eggsy to play the song he chose – something he knew Kim wouldn’t be able to keep up with Heinz’s voice. She couldn’t believe her ears when “Say the Word” blared through the stage speakers. It was a tune Kim was well-acquainted with, being the one who first sang it at her school’s talent show, sometime ago. Somehow, it got around the airwaves and now came back on Kim in another shameful setting.

            Only now, it wasn’t entirely Kim singing it…

I’m on it, I’ve got it
I can do anything
What you need, got your back
Just say the word, I’m there

If you find your world is cavin’ in,
you can bet you’re gonna need a friend
Someone to take those fears away

Say the word
Make a call and I’ll be there
Anytime, anywhere
Have you heard
that I’m all about savin’ your world?
All you have to do is say the word

            Doof’s scratchy voice was unable to carry the tune, hurting Kim’s throat and creating feedback on the microphone. It was just as agonizing to the ears of those in attendance. Beneath the mask, Kim’s face reddened in embarrassment and anger, the latter of which fueled from seeing Roddenstein’s grin of satisfaction.

            Determined, she used that anger to push through the voice modulator; her naturally powerful decibels short-circuiting the strip on her throat. Suddenly, it was the voice of Kim Possible singing out through the “mouth” of Heinz Doofenshmirtz…

In trouble, in it deep,
This is a promise that I can keep!
Make it right, count on me
to be the best friend I can be!
When your life is bending
upside down!
I’ll be the one to turn it around!

Say the word
Make a call and I’ll be there
Anytime, anywhere
Have you heard
that I’m all about savin’ your world?
All you have to do is say the word!

            Following the performance, there was utter silence. Everyone from Roddenstein to Vanessa and even Perry stood in bewilderment by the sudden voice change. Kim knew she had completely blown her cover, staring on all the dumbfounded faces that were staring back at her own.

            And then she heard one person clapping in the back.

            Everyone looked to the applauding attendee, shocked to see that it was Ernst Blofeld. “Very impressive performance, Dr. Doofenshmirtz,” Blofeld said. “Or should I refer to you by your actual name: Kim Possible?”

            Something grabbed Kim from behind and her mask was abruptly removed, revealing her real face. Looking behind her, she saw a large, muscled Filipino man in a suit – the one that had her restrained by a massive arm while the other held the Doofenshmirtz mask. This man was soon kicked in the face by Perry, who discarded his Lloyd Wexler disguise to rescue her. His ambush forced the man to release Kim and allow her to flee to the nearest exit with her platypus ally. Unfortunately, Dr. Diminutive used a ray machine that fired directly on Perry, knocking him out.

            Kim attempted to carry him in her desperate escape, only to be thwarted by the Filipino man, who knocked her out the old-fashioned way – clubbing her in the back of the head.

            “Well done, Mr. Hinx,” Blofeld approved of his personal assassin.

            “Hey, what about me?” Dr. Diminutive bellowed from atop his ray machine. “I knocked out the platypus!” Alas, Blofeld merely gave him – and the other evil scientists gathered in the room – with a look of contempt.

            He and Mr. Hinx subsequently departed with the unconscious Kim and Perry.

            DJ Eggsy watched them, the only disconcerted one in a sea of malevolent faces.

Mission: Possible 007 (Chapter Five)

 

Chapter Five: The Ceremony

            The Unification of Evil Ceremony was in full swing at Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated. Of course, the event played out more like a rave party than a conference for evil scientists. DJ Eggsy provided the music – a bunch of techno beats with some PSY thrown into the mix. It was a bizarre experience for Kim and Perry (and, by extension, Wade and Luther).

            “These guys are seriously the world’s most dangerous geniuses?” Luther cringed as he observed the gathering through the live feed on the surveillance cameras inside Doofenshmirtz’s lab.

            Wade, on the other hand, was more focused over one absent attendee. “Still no sign of Ernst Blofeld. Are we sure he’s even coming?”

            “Wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t,” Luther said.

            “Maybe he’s just fashionably late?” Kim suggested. Every time she spoke with Doofenshmirtz’s scratchy voice, she subconsciously felt the need to clear her throat. The latex mask was smothering as well, adding to the discomfort. If this was what it felt like being Heinz Doofenshmirtz, she pitied the poor guy.

            “A’ight, luvs and bruvs!” DJ Eggsy’s voice boomed throughout the room from the microphone attached to his turntable. “We’re gonna take it old school with a Soul Train style dance line!”

            “Seriously?!” Luther bellowed, sounding slightly offended.

            The evil scientists formed two lines with a space in the middle for dancers to strut down and dance in consecutive order. One scientist – a bald man with a piercing stare beneath a pair of horn-rimmed glasses – performed a ballet dance while looking in Kim’s direction and challenging her.

            “Bet you wish you could have moves this good, Heinz,” he said.

            Kim could only snicker and remark, “Are you for real?”

            “I’ve never been more ‘real’!” the bald scientist scoffed.

            Turning her head, Kim pretended to look as if she was coughing while asking Wade and Luther, “Who even is this guy?”

            “According to the L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. database, his name is Aloyse Everheart Elizabeth Otto Wolfgang Hypatia Gunther Galen Gary Cooper von Roddenstein – but everyone just calls him ‘Rodney’,” Wade informed. “He has a pretty heated rivalry with Dr. Doofenshmirtz.”

            “Super,” Kim deprecatingly remarked.

            “C’mon, Heinz!” Roddenstein provoked Kim. “Show us your moves – if you even have any in that worn-out body of yours.”

            Even though the insults flown at her were more towards the man she masqueraded as, Kim couldn’t help but to take them personally. Roddenstein was like Bonnie Rockwaller, if Bonnie was a bald, grotesque-looking man. Those similarities were enough to mess with Kim’s perception, pressured into proving Roddenstein wrong.

            To the surprise of Perry, Wade, and Luther, she went up to the dance line and immediately broke into some dance moves that the real Heinz Doofenshmirtz – a middle-aged man with crooked posture – would be incapable of. She spun and flipped in place, showing off the acrobatic prowess she developed in her years as a cheerleader. They were impressive enough to receive a round of applause from the evil scientists, with the notable exception of an infuriated Roddenstein.

            Along one shadowed corner of the lab stood Vanessa, who – up until now – had little interest in the proceedings, focused more on her phone than the group of old men acting like ravers. But the moment that she saw her “father” breakdance in front of his evil colleagues, without so much as breaking his back, something seemed very off to the young Doofenshmirtz.

----------------------

            If there was one thing SFIT labs had plenty of, it was duct tape. Hunt used a few rolls to strap the unconscious Shego to one of the chairs in the facility that didn’t roll. Once she was well-bound to the chair, Edna proceeded in slapping her hard enough across the face to wake her up. “Rise and shine, you League filth!” Edna roared.

            Shego blinked a few times, regaining focus to her hazed vision. She saw Edna’s aggressive face glaring daggers into her, while Bond, Hunt, Dr. Bellum, and the SFIT students stood in observance along the background. She struggled under the layers of duct tape that tied her down, scoffing as she looked down on them and said, “You know I could just easily singe my way out of these, right?” Her hands flamed to highlight this.

            That was until Bond drew his gun, pointing it directly at Shego’s head. “Try to see if you can before I pull this trigger,” he challenged her. The callous way in which he did motivated Shego into switching off her flames.

            “So…how’re we doing this?” Shego inquired of her captors. “Good cop, bad cop? An intervention? I highly doubt anyone other than these two…” She nodded specifically towards Bond and Hunt. “…are capable of torture – and even they won’t be able to break this girl.”

            “Oh, dahling,” Edna told her. “They aren’t the ones you need to worry about.”

            She briefly moved away from Shego’s line of sight while Wasabi and Dr. Bellum wheeled in a complex piece of machinery that looked a lot like a modified death ray to Shego. In spite of this assumption, she still asked (albeit uneasily), “What…uh…What the heck is this thing? Some sort of oversized hair dryer?” She noticed the tip of the gun was aimed straight for her left eye, which only made her more nervous.

            “No, dear,” Edna said. “This is one of my finest achievements. It’s been known to render even the strongest of wills into a shattered husk. A concentrated laser is fired into your cornea, burning through it and surgically slicing your optic nerve to make its way into the brain and out through the back of your skull. The entire process happens within the span of an hour, but it feels like an eternity to the subject.”

            Shego swallowed hard, her usual cool demeanor cracking under pressure.

            Of the SFIT students in attendance of the interrogation (soon-to-be torture session), only Go-Go maintained a stable constitution. Wasabi turned the other way, while Hiro, Honey Lemon, and Fred cringed just from the description Edna gave of her deadly machine. She switched it on, and it came to life with a deep, ominous hum. The tip with the laser, positioned an inch from Shego’s eye, started to glow in a reddish hue.

            With the little bit of defiance that she could muster, she asked Edna, “You really expect me to talk?”

            “No, dahling…I expect you to die!”

            Shego saw the sinister thrill on Edna’s face, as the laser glowed brighter. Half of the room was caked with red from Shego’s perspective. Her eye teared up, blinking and twitching uncontrollably. She began to feel it sting, the brighter the laser got.

            “Alright, alright! I’ll talk!” she screamed.

            Immediately, the machine switched off, along with the laser.

            “Jeez,” Hunt muttered after the tense moment.

            On the contrary, an amused Bond reflected of Edna, “That’s my kind of woman.”

            With Shego’s full cooperation, Dr. Bellum commenced with the questioning: “Now then, what does the League want with Hiro Hamada?”

            Hiro listened intently as Shego answered, “They need the kid to mass produce enough of his microbots to create a powerful EMP machine.”

            “What does the League need with an EMP machine?” Hunt asked her.

            “They wanna take society back into the Dark Ages,” Shego replied. “Reboot it all to their ultimate control.”

            “Retroactively holding the world in a technological ransom,” Bond concluded.

            “We need to contact the Think Tank and let them know that we…”

            Ethan had his phone already in hand when it suddenly received an unknown call. He answered accordingly, placing the phone to his ear to hear the Austrian-accented voice of a man say, “Good evening, Mr. Hunt. If you would be so kind as to put me on speaker, so I could address your colleague, Mr. Bond, and the others in the lab with you.”

            Hunt hesitated to comply, but he did as the man requested and put him on speaker.

            “Hello, James” was the first thing he said following Hunt’s deed.

            Bond stiffened with recognition to the voice on the phone. “Hello, Blofeld.”

            Ethan fired a watchful look on Bond. Until that second, he never heard Blofeld’s voice (or even seen his face) before. He made a motion for Bond to keep the founder of SPECTRE talking while he traced the call.

            “So, what’re you up to these days?” Bond asked.

            “Oh, you know, thinking up new ways to kill you,” Blofeld casually responded. “Of course, seeing that you’re in San Francisco and I’m miles away somewhere else…somewhere that I suspect Mr. Hunt will soon discover, as he’s tracing my call this very moment.”

            Ethan shook his head, smirking. “You want us to find you?”

            “Yes, Mr. Hunt,” Blofeld admitted. “It would be no fun if I just told you where I am, would it? Besides, I’m sure you and James would want to know where I’ll be keeping the bodies of your two fellow Team members, after I’ve extracted them from the Doofenshmirtz building.”

            Bond and Hunt shared a perturbed glance.

            “Tell us where you are, Blofeld!” Bond demanded with urgent ferocity.

            “Oh, James…listen to yourself…getting emotional over a little girl and a platypus. You’re better than this mission, James. I’m sure you’ve realized that by now. MI6 has made a fool of themselves…made a fool of you. All you have to do is step away…find an island to seclude yourself from the rest of the world…your own personal heaven…or Hell, if you choose it that way. That’s what I’ve done.”

            “Well, that’s just it, Blofeld – we’re nothing alike,” Bond refuted. “And you’re right: I am better than this mission. But, when men like you enter the picture, I’m obligated to do my service to see the job done.”

            “Then I hope you enjoy having more blood on your hands, cuckoo.”

            The call ended there.

            Bond looked squarely on Hunt and asked, “Did you trace the call?” Hunt didn’t answer. Bond could see how white he appeared as he gazed on his phone. “Ethan! Did you trace the call?”

            “Yeah,” Hunt confirmed. “It came from inside the Doofenshmirtz building.”

Mission: Possible 007 (Chapter Four)

 

Chapter Four: The Institute

            9297 Polly Parkway was the precise address for the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated building. It was located right in the center of Danville. Kim couldn’t believe it actually had the word “evil” labeled in big letters on the side. What sort of guy advertises that kind of thing? Kim thought as she pulled up to the location with Perry, Luther, and Wade in Luther’s van.

            The van doubled as Wade and Luther’s base of operations, keeping tabs on Kim and Perry while they were inside the Doofenshmirtz complex. “Doofenshmirtz’s lab is located on the topmost floor of the building,” Wade informed with the blueprints displayed on his computer. “That’s where the ceremony is being held.”

            Luther in the meantime was getting Kim’s mask prepared through the Latex Mask machine. She watched him work on the exact likeness of Heinz Doofenshmirtz himself, jittered by every hyper-realistic detail of the rather ugly-looking pharmacist. “You guys sure no one else was qualified for this?”

            “Positive,” Luther snickered as he proceeded to work on the voice modulation strip, which involved using an audio recording of Doofenshmirtz’s voice (taken from his voicemail message).

            “You’ve reached Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz,” the recording said. “I can’t come to the phone right now because I may be fighting my nemesis, Perry the Platypus, or on one of my daily errands. Just leave your name and number and I’ll make sure to get back to you…unless I have been fighting my nemesis, then I’ll get back once after I’ve gotten out of the hospital.”

            Kim cringed over the recording, not only from how long and winded it was but also from the screeching register of Doofenshmirtz’s voice. “That’s how I’m going to sound?!”

            “Unfortunately…yes,” Wade confirmed, sharing in her discomfort.

            Luther handed the voice modulation strip to Kim, along with a card, and instructed, “Apply the strip on top of your neck and repeat the phrase on the card three times.”

            Kim followed his instruction, applying the strip where her larynx was and reading the card. “Rubber baby buggy bumpers… Rubber baby buggy bumpers… Rubber baby buggy bumpers.” Each time she read the phrase, she felt her throat tingle as Luther synced the strip up with Doofenshmirtz’s voice, until it replaced Kim’s entirely. Speaking with that same screeching tone she heard on the voice message, Kim already hated the whole thing. “Oh, this is so not how I wanted to spend my evening!”

            “Well, brace yourself, kiddo – because it’s about to get a lot worse,” Luther said, removing the Doofenshmirtz mask from the machine and handing it to Kim.

            With a disgruntled sigh, Kim placed the mask on, making sure to tuck her long red locks into it, so that they weren’t seeping out in the back. Not that anyone would’ve noticed with the collar of the lab coat she put on afterwards, which hid the seams along with that of the black turtleneck she wore underneath.

            The transformation astonished Wade and even Perry.

            No longer was it Kim Possible sitting there in the van with them; it was Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

            “This is too weird,” Wade uttered.

            “You’re telling me!” Kim screeched. “I’m just glad Ron isn’t here to see me like this!” She then looked to Perry, who seemed like he was fighting the urge to punch her in the face. “How’s your disguise coming along, Perry? I mean, I’m not sure how you’re gonna pull off looking like Dr. Lloyd Wexler, judging from his I.D.”

            Nonetheless, Perry had his own disguise ready: a simple wig, fake mustache, glasses, and lab coat.

            It was a flimsy excuse for a cover compared with Kim’s more sophisticated, state-of-the-art costume, but if it could fool an entire room of evil scientists that went by the name of L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N., then it was good enough.

            “We’ll keep in touch through radio,” Luther noted.

            “And we’ll have eyes on you through the surveillance cameras inside,” Wade added. “I managed to hack into them. This Doofenshmirtz guy has terrible security.”

            “That doesn’t surprise me,” Kim remarked, her sarcasm more noticeable through Doofenshmirtz’s voice.

            Kim and Perry proceeded onward through the front entrance, taking the elevator up to the topmost floor of the building. Arriving in Doofenshmirtz’s lab, they were surprised to find how much he had already put together in the way of party decorations. The lab looked like a New Year’s festivity ready to go, complete with streamers, balloons, lights, and a banner hung up above that read “15th Annual Unification of Evil Ceremony.”

            “You have got to be kidding me,” Kim blurted in open-mouthed repulsion.

            “Yeah, they really went all out on this,” she heard Wade say over her earpiece.

            The lab was relatively empty, save for two individuals: a young man who looked like he could’ve been the DJ and a teenaged brunette in all-black apparel. “Yo, yo, yo! Look who sho!” the DJ greeted with a noticeable British accent. “We got it all set for ya, bruv!”

            Kim froze. “Uh…thanks, Mister…?” She dragged on long enough for Wade or Luther to get an ID on the DJ and the girl.

            “The girl’s Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, Heinz’s daughter,” Luther informed.

            “As far as the DJ, he’s a total mystery,” Wade said.

            It was a mystery that had been short-lived, as the DJ told Kim, “What’s all this ‘Mister’ about? Name’s ‘DJ Eggsy,’ bruv! You know that!”

            “I can’t believe you hired this guy, Dad,” Vanessa told Kim. Not a second after did she look at Perry and say, “Wait…Why is Perry here? Isn’t this supposed to be a convention for all your ‘evil scientist’ buddies?”

            Vanessa saw right through the platypus’s disguise. Regardless, Kim played dumb (which is how she figured Doofenshmirtz to normally act). “I don’t know what you mean, Vanessa,” she said. “This isn’t Perry the Platypus. It’s Dr. Lloyd Wexler.”

            “Whatever,” Vanessa scoffed, quick to move on from the conspiracy.

---------------------------

            The car ride to the Institute of Technology in San Francisco could not have been more awkward with just Bond and Ethan sitting up front together in Bond’s Aston Martin DB5 – Bond being the one behind the wheel, of course. Neither man said a word since leaving North Dakota; nothing between them but stiff silence and tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

            Hunt only broke the ice when he asked Bond, “So…MI6…you wouldn’t happen to have worked with Ilsa Faust on the field?”

            “She was once part of the ‘00’ program until she was decommissioned,” Bond answered. “I never had a proper chance to be assigned with her.”

            His answer surprised Hunt. “What was she decommissioned for?”

            “Betraying MI6 to a rogue American agent.” Bond momentarily took his eyes off the road to glance wittingly at Ethan. “Any guesses as to who that might’ve been?” His question was only met with silence from the IMF agent, much to 007’s amusement.

            A few minutes later, the men arrived at the Institute.

            They were greeted by the dean, Professor Grace Granville, who believed Hunt and Bond were scientists there to survey the students’ projects. “We have many who have developed the most brilliant projects you’ll ever see here at the Institute,” Granville praised. “They’ve been fine-tuned under the careful tutelage of our two consultants.”

            Those consultants were Dr. Sara Bellum – a tall, raven-haired white canary scientist in a lab coat – and Edna Mode – a short, brash half-Japanese/half-German woman who Bond recognized as a world-renowned fashion designer and auteur. Both ladies hovered around a group of young upstarts. Hunt and Bond learned their names as Granville brought them to each of their work stations: Go-Go Tomago, Honey Lemon, and Wasabi.

            There was one young man who was not a student at the Institute but a self-proclaimed “major science enthusiast.” His name was Fred Frederickson.

            “Of the Frederickson Estate?” Bond recognized.

            “That’s the one,” Fred confirmed. “You must’ve heard of my dad – Mister Frederickson.”

            “Who hasn’t?” Hunt remarked. “He’s one of the biggest tycoons in America, if not the entire world.”

            “Yep, that’s him,” Fred proudly verified. “The big ol’ typhoon himself!”

            Bond and Hunt were lastly brought to the one student they were there for: Hiro Hamada. He worked in his own private lab away from the other students. As it turned out, this lab once belonged to his late brother, Tadashi.

            Thankfully, Hiro hadn’t recognized either Bond or Hunt when Granville introduced him – not that he would have, as he didn’t cross paths with Bond that night at the investors’ convention and Hunt was disguised as Krei.

            After Granville departed to tend to other matters, Bond and Hunt got to know a little more about Hamada. Hunt’s particular interest was directed towards a red, high-tech steel crate situated along one corner of the lab. “What’s that?” he asked Hiro.

            Noticing Hunt’s attention on the crate, Hiro became very excited. “Oh! Wait ‘til you guys see this!” He went to his workbench to retrieve a roll of duct tape, tearing off a strip that he applied to his forearm and hastily ripped off, leaving a blistering mark. “Ow!” he purposefully yelped, and as soon as he did, the red crate automatically opened itself, allowing an inflatable, computerized white robot to rise out of it.

            “Hello,” it greeted them. “I am Baymax – your personal healthcare companion.”

            Bond smirked upon seeing the big, puffy white robot. “Fancy toy,” he observed.

            “I am not a toy,” Baymax unthinkingly clarified. “I am a personal healthcare companion.”

            “You’re gonna be a whole lot more than that soon, Baymax,” Hiro stated before revealing to Bond and Hunt, “I’ve been reprogramming him to assist me in solving the murder of my brother, Tadashi.”

            Bond and Hunt tensed up. “That…sounds a little dangerous, don’t you think?” the latter inquired of the boy genius.

            Hiro shot a fiery gaze on Hunt. “My brother died because someone that night at the convention was there to hurt Alastair Krei…and they ended up hurting Tadashi…hurting me!” Hamada approached Baymax, placing a hand against his inflatable vinyl covering. “Baymax is all I have left of him…he was the last thing Tadashi created before he died.”

            Bond and Hunt sympathized with Hamada, so much so that Bond was willing to break cover just to tell him, “Hiro, we’re not really—”

            CRASH!

            007’s confession was cut off by the commotion resounding from the adjacent room where all the other Institute students worked. Through the frosted glass walls, they detected the silhouettes of assassins that dropped in from the ceiling and stormed the Institute. One of them had glowing green hands.

            “The League?” Hunt consulted with Bond.

            “Who else would it be?” Bond already had his gun drawn.

            Seeing him with it, Hiro was taken aback. “Whoa! Why do you have that? What kind of scientists are you guys?”

            “Stay here, Hiro!” Ethan ordered, drawing his own concealed hand cannon.

            The IMF and MI6 agents burst out of Hiro’s private lab, guns blazing, forcing Shego and the League assassins to take cover. Dr. Bellum and Edna ducked at the work stations, along with the terrified Institute students. Bond and Hunt managed to pop off a few assassins before being ambushed by two from behind.

            Thrown against separate work stations, they struggled atop the projects specifically designed by Go-Go and Honey Lemon.

            The resourceful instincts of both Bond and Hunt kicked in.

            Bond grabbed one of Go-Go’s electromagnetic wheels, using its unimaginable speed and velocity to generate enough momentum to heat its edges and slice through the throat of his opponent. Bond threw the assassin’s body off himself, leaving it thudding to the floor. He heard someone hurling nearby and turned to see Wasabi losing his lunch from witnessing Bond’s defensive act, while Go-Go just coolly looked on. “This certainly qualifies an A+,” 007 told her.

            Meanwhile, Hunt’s struggle with his assassin came to its own violent conclusion when he used two of Honey Lemon’s “chem-balls” to create an explosive reaction when he slammed them against opposite sides of the assassin’s head. The reaction encased it in a blue-and-red foam material that instantly hardened, suffocating him to death.

            Seeing the gratuitous nature of which her underlings were vanquished, Shego saw no point in sticking around and made for the exit. However, her escape was cut off by an object that rocketed past her, striking the space around the exit and sealing it off with piles of rubble. Shego herself was knocked out cold from the impact of the explosion.

            Looking to see where the rocket had come from, Hunt and Bond found Hiro out of his brother’s lab and accompanied by Baymax, who was adorned in a massive red battle suit from which he fired the rocket that thwarted Shego’s escape. “Whoa!” Hunt uttered as he got an eyeful of the robot that looked like a marshmallow minutes earlier.

            “Well, you boys certainly made a mess of things around here!” They heard Dr. Bellum suddenly address them. “We had this well under the control before you and these League fat-heads showed up!”

            Listening to her ranting, it wasn’t too hard for Bond and Hunt to figure it out: “You were sent in by the Team.”

            “Yes, dahling, we were,” Edna confirmed. “Now, would one of you gentlemen be so kind as to tie this woman up?” She gestured to the unconscious Shego. “There are some questions that I need to ask her.” By the sadistic tone of her voice, Bond and Hunt guessed the questioning Edna had in mind would be less than professional.