The morning sun shone on the tiny waterfall flowing from near the middle of the rocky outcrop. The sparkling water tinkled into a small idyllic pool. Perfect for bathing and swimming if you were two feet tall. A small blurry shape swam to the cattails at the edge of the water. Moving into the weeds, the shape coalesced into the shape of a person in fact, about two feet tall. A shape vaguely feminine dressed in jeans with a green tee shirt. It looked at its reflection in a calm part of the pool and its features came sharply into focus as the water fairy adjusted its glamour. It reached down and picked up a plastic box of the kind commonly seen holding leftovers. It started walking across a field and into a grove of mature trees. Walking about a mile, it came out of the trees to find a large two story building with a porch wrapping around two sides sitting alone on a perfectly manicured lawn. No outbuildings, no barns, just the building.

It adjusted its glamour so that anyone looking in its direction would see at most the movement of blades of grass. Protected against discovery, it circled the house looking around for the best spot to set its trap. It saw a road cutting through an overgrown pasture in the back of the building leading to a large parking area. One person was taking boxes from a large vehicle into the house. Continuing around to the side of the house found a couple more people setting up a tent to cover some strange equipment. Sneaking up to the equipment, the Fae, as instructed, found a dark green canvas bag containing several odd pear shaped iron objects and careful not to touch any iron, quietly dragged the bag over to some large cylinders. That task complete, it stealthily moved on. The Fae idly speculated about what was really going on. What were the iron pears for and for that matter what is this place? - no barns for horses or storing crops. Two towers at the front corner of the building and the buildings brick and stone construction gave the building the feel of a small manor. Perhaps a hunter's lodge of some sort? The front of the house had a couple of people sitting on the porch talking. The last side of the house had no doors and few windows. That side looked promising for sneaking in - especially when the Fae noticed a pair of plain wooden doors that appeared to lead into the ground next to the house - perhaps to a basement?

The Illuminati odds makers had given a high probability that Team Possible would infiltrate the lair after dusk. Detailed analysis suggested that after the ensuing action, Kim Possible was expected to be at injured (p=82%) to the point where she would need evacuation if not killed outright(p=13%). If both she and the boy who followed her but looked like he has no business following her survived, the analysis went on to suggest that she would be left in a safe spot while the boy went for help(73%). The Fae had snorted with amusement that the Illuminati had calculated detailed predictions on what was going to happen, but they didn't know the name of one of the people on the team? The best they could do was describe him as "the person who looked like he didn't belong"? Not a good description for a Fae that hadn't dealt with humans in over 200 years. At any rate the Fae's task was to help insure that the team did not leave the area intact. One option, the Rip Van Winkle strategy, was removing Kim Possible from the mortal world for a while, but that required her to be ambulatory. The better plan was applying a curse that the hero herself would select so that the team self destructed after returning home. Killing the young hero was not allowed. Which suited the Fae just fine, even though Kim Possible and the boy were young for heroes, they were too old to make a good meal.

It selected a massive beech tree just in sight of the doors leading into the ground. This tree had huge gnarled roots poking above the ground that provided a reasonable place to stash an injured teammate out of sight. Besides, the tree, 250 years old if a day, reminded her of times past in the lands across the water before man and his iron had driven her folk out. Carefully placing the plastic box in a place where it wouldn't be immediately seen, but would likely be sat on, the Fae sat against the tree and waited.

"Dr. D!" Shego looked up from her magazine, "Dr. D, make your phone stop beeping! Don't make me get up to do it!".

Drakken stepped back from spraying formula on some potted plants, removed his safety glasses, and tapped the message icon on his phone. "BDB: Demens moving mom into retirement village this week" popped up.

"Shego!", Drakken called, "Check on FiendBook to see what Dementor is up to this week."

"Is your mouse too heavy for you to move?".

"No, but Dementor and I aren't FiendBook friends so I can't see his status."

Shego pulled out her phone and tapped several times. "His status was new this morning and says 'Complicated: mating PVDI to CEC', whatever that means. Sounds perverted to me."

Drakken thought for a moment. While Dementor was known to have the mad love for the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer, the Counter-Electrodynamic Concentrator was a failed project and Dementor never repeated failures. The status was typical Dementor, arrogantly announcing his scheme privately to his private circle of "friends" (and Shego apparently). Lately however, he was positive that law enforcement hackers kept check on super villain FiendBook pages as part of their jobs. Actually, he mused, a good bet would be that Kim Possible's nerdlinger would hear about the theft, check Dementor's status and Kim Possible herself would raid the lair to stop him and recover the PDVI before law enforcement had their morning coffee. But Big Daddy Brotherson said that Dementor will not be in his lair this week. Has Dementor set up some other villain up for a fall? Or is someone setting up Kim Possible for a fall with Dementor being the scapegoat?

Drakken sat down at his desktop and switched his SmolderingWeasel browser's proxy over to the darknet routers and logged into . .eris. Brotherson had gotten him and Shego accounts on the illuminati site as a thank you for the last box of Mama Lipsky's dark chocolate eggs with jalapeno creme centers Drakken had sent him. Scrolling down the list of bets he selected "Team Possible will exist through the summer after high school graduation". He and Shego had each placed $25,000 on that bet last year. They thought that after the events following the Little Diablo failure that the pair would be solid until college at least.

At that time, the odds were 2.5 to 1. Earlier this year, the odds had increased to 11 to 1, but fell back to 3 to 1 after Shego had a short discussion with Cyrus Bortel on the ethics of supplying mind control devices purchased for use on sidekicks. That discussion, which left the inventor hospitalized for a month, inspired him to follow his new dream of owning a mini golf franchise. Yesterday the odds changed to 65 to one. That meant that somebody had placed a lot of money on Team Possible breaking up in the very near future.

"Shego!", Drakken called, "We need to protect one of our investments."

She put her magazine down, got up and looked over his shoulder.

"Whoa Doc, our payoff just jumped to over a million and a half?"

"Yes, but only if we win the bet.", he said, showing her the text message. "Perhaps you should make sure that this isn't a trap that Kim Possible and the sidekick won't survive?"

"I'll be in the air as soon as I can suit up. See if you can figure out where the lair is and an ETA on the kids getting there."

Practicing in Kim's garage. Ron rapidly punched the large bag, his blows rippling up the bag with the rhythm of popping popcorn.

"Not too bad Bruce Lee", said his red haired Sifu. "Remember that a chain of rapid punches like that are for disorienting and driving your opponent off balance."

"Or looking good in a movie."

"Show me a double punch with power", said Kim, rolling her eyes at her BFBF.

Ron struck the bag with his best imitation of a coiled snake's explosive strike, first with his right fist followed his left fist.

"Remember that punches need to be powered by your midsection, not your shoulders." Kim said pressing her hands on his stomach. A little soft around the middle perhaps, but she felt hard muscle under that excess padding. Spending a moment feeling those muscles, she wondered again if she could get him to cut back on the Nacos. "Ron, if you really want to study Wing Chun, start coming with me to the dojo and study with Sifu Yim. Wing Chun isn't my best style. I prefer the Northern Shaolin style's long range strikes and acrobatics. And as much as you have learned, please stick with your normal distraction moves on missions for now. We've done all right as a team so far."

"Well, yes, but that can't last forever."

"Ron, are you planning on breaking up the team?" Kim placed her hands on Ron's cheeks pulling his head around and glaring into his eyes.

"No! KP, I love you, but you have all those college offers from those overseas schools and I, I got nothing."

"Ron, we are a couple and we will figure out a way to stay together. But don't change the subject, for now, let's keep our team's mission strategy the same."

"BEEP-BEEP-BE-BEEP" Their kimmunicators interrupted.

"Go Wade" said Kim, answering the call before she even got the the device up to her face.

"Kim, Dementor has stolen the PDVI and is going to use it to turbocharge the Counter-Electrodynamic Concentrator"

"Wade, remind Kim what the Counter-"

"It steals energy", Wade butted in, anticipating Ron's question, "by integrating the PDVI, he could blackout most of North America's electrical grid.". "A delivery van will be by to pick you up in two. I will have a ride and your mission gear waiting for you at the airport."

The honk from a delivery van officially started the three heroes' latest mission.