Kim Possible Porn Story: Taken Chapter 5

Chapter 4

The Hunt Begins

Dont Pay the Ferryman

by

Chris De Burgh

It was late at night on the open road, speeding like a man on the run,

A lifetime spent preparing for the journey,

He is closer now, and the search is on, reading from a map in the mind,

Yes, theres that ragged hill and theres a boat on the river,

And when the rain came down,

He heard a wild dog howl,

There were voices in the night, (Dont do it)

Voices out of sight, (Dont do it)

Too many men have failed before, whatever you do,

Dont pay the ferryman, dont even fix a price,

Dont pay the ferryman, until he gets you to the other side,

In the rolling mist, and he gets on board, now therell be no turning back,

Beware that hooded old man at the rudder,

And the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled, and people called out his name,

And dancing balls that jabbered and a-moaned on the water,

And then the ferryman said, there is trouble ahead,

So you must pay me now, (Dont do it)

You must pay me now, (Dont do it)

And still that voice came from beyond, whatever you do,

Dont pay the ferryman, dont even fix a price,

Dont pay the ferryman, until he gets you to the other side,

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, YEAH!

Dont pay the ferryman, dont even fix a price,

Dont pay the ferryman, until he gets you to the other side,

Dont pay the ferryman, dont even fix a price,

Dont pay the ferryman, until he gets you to the other side,

Dont pay the ferryman, dont even fix a price,

Dont pay the ferryman, until he gets you to the other side,

Dont pay . . . the ferryman!

Ron was slightly rattled at the almost arrogant nature of his old friend.

Whats got into him? Ron thought, There was a time when I asked him to help, and he was only too eager to help, what the hell happened, did he fall in love with that damned desk? I wonder if Isabelle knows about how he treated me?

At the same time, another conversation was taking place between Jean-Pierre, and his assistant.

What do I do? the assistant asked, speaking in French.

Keep an eye on him. Jean-Pierre replied, But keep your distance, if I know Ron as well as I think, hell know if hes being followed, and if you want to see your wife, and son and still be on one piece, youll keep your distance.

He cant be that dangerous, sir. the assistant commented.

Like hell he cant be, I once saw that man kill ten people with nothing but a Bowie Knife, a lead pencil, and a deck of playing cards, when he goes active, he can be very ruthless, and vicious, just follow him, but for the love of God, dont let him see you . . . if he does, he will put you in hospital . . . or worse, the morgue. Jean-Pierre replied.

Ive never heard of such a thing. the assistant stated boldly.

Believe me, if you get too close to Ron Stoppable, there will not even be enough for your wife to identify. Jean-Pierre stated.

Hes just quiet right now, he looks harmless. the assistant stated.

For now, I can assure you that he wont stay quiet and harmless for long. Jean-Pierre replied, an ominous tone to his voice.

Meanwhile, Ron had gotten in touch with Wade.

Alright, Wade, here comes the fun part, you ready for this? Ron asked.

I was born ready, Ron. Wade replied.

Alright, I need you to track someone for me, Im about to pay a visit to the Parisian Red Light District, and when I find someone, I plan to chip the asshole, once thats done, I need you to track him for me. Ron replied.

You got it . . . oh, Ron . . . I got Kims parents on the line . . . they want to talk to you. Wade commented calmly.

Patch them through, Wade. Ron replied, his face set in stone.

Ronald, please tell me you can find her. Mr. Possible stated.

Ill find her if it kills me. Ron replied, determination dripping off every syllable.

How long have you got? Mrs. Possible asked.

96 hours, that was 18 hours ago. Ron replied.

So, you got 78 hours left, thats only about three days. Mr. Possible stated.

Not easy, but not impossible to do. Ron replied.

We trust you, Ron . . . just bring her home for us. Mrs. Possible stated.

If I dont, you can prep that deep space probe, Mr. Dr. P. Ron stated, causing a weak chuckle from Mr. Possible.

Understood, Ronald. he replied.

Look, I gotta go, theres a lot of work to be done, and very little time to do it. Ron replied, shutting off the cell phone before the Possible parents could say goodbye.

Alright, Ron . . . ready to go when you are. Wade replied.

Alright, Im here, keep the line open. Ron replied, as he stuck an earpiece deep into his ear canal, and walked up to the nearest prostitute, and began talking to her in French.

Hey, can you help me for a second, Im looking for someone.

Sorry, I cant help you. the woman replied.

Just for a second, huh? Ron asked.

Im busy, and thats the second one I lost because of you, go away, Im losing business. the prostitute replied.

Come on, please help me. Ron replied, now looking around, as the girl suddenly became nervous.

Oh, shit, here he comes, get out of here. the girl said, but too late, as the girls pimp grabbed Ron by the front of his coat, and pinned him against the wall.

What do you think youre doing? the man asked, speaking with a thick Eastern European accent.

I was just asking . . . Ron began, but, he was cut off by the pimp.

You owe me fifty Euro for the business my girl lost because of you, asshole.

Okay, okay, I dont want no trouble. Ron replied, thats when he moved in, with the speed, and skill borne from his training, Ron was able to plant a tracking chip under the shirt collar of the man, and, smiling sheepishly, he dug into his pocket, and withdrew 100 Euro, holding it up, and handing the man fifty.

And fifty more for wasting my time. the pimp stated, now taking the other fifty Euro from Ron, with a smug grin, as Ron turned to walk away, once out of earshot, Ron turned, and looked back.

Fucking piece of shit. Ron stated, only loud enough for him, and Wade to hear.

Okay, Ron, the lines working. Wade stated, as Ron could hear two men talking in rapid Albanian in the background.

What have you got, Wade? Ron asked.

Well, theyre talking about you . . . not very pleasant stuff either. Wade replied.

What are they saying? Ron asked, chuckling to himself.

Well, theyre saying that youre an asshole . . . wait a minute, the conversation just changed, something about some very hostile merchandise. Wade replied.

Probably Kim, what are they saying? Ron asked.

Something about a construction site just north of Paris, theyre moving the stock up there, to entertain the workers. Wade replied, still listening in.

Do me a favor, Wade, translate the words good luck into Albanian, and print it out, the usual place, I got an idea. Ron replied, smiling like a Cheshire Cat.

No problem, Ron . . . Im all over it. Wade replied, his words seemed to echo what Ron was catching on about.

Later that evening, at a construction site north of Paris:

The construction site seemed to be a long way out of the city, but it was bustling with activity, as a large trailer was placed just inside of the gate, and several men were lined in front of it, most seemed to have been working all day, but one man seemed to stick out from the crowd.

He was a well build blonde haired man, standing about six foot tall, wearing a black trenchcoat, and black denim jeans, he seemed to be out of place in the crowd of construction workers, in his hand, he was carrying fifty Euro, the standard fee for a prostitute in Paris.

Ron walked up to the front door, and handed over the money, and was given a small piece of cardboard, with the number 4 written upon it, Ron nodded, and began walking through the area, he walked into the stall marked with the number he was carrying, and a young blonde was inside, Ron looked carefully into her face, and didnt recognize her, he continued to walk down the curtained hall the small cubicles made, until he looked through a crack between the sheets of one stall, and saw a head of red hair, he quickly looked around, and saw something that made his heart skip a beat. A familiar blue denim jacket, the same jacket he had bought Kim for her 19th birthday.

Ron instantly lost all manner of thought, as his instincts, and skills kicked in, he ripped down the curtain barrier, grabbed the construction worker in the cubicle, and tossed him through a back window of the trailer, he then walked back to the stall, where he saw the woman up close, instantly, he noticed that it wasnt Kim.

The young woman was very slender, probably from lack of food, and seemed lost in her own little world, most likely from a recent injection of either heroin, or some other drug. Ron grabbed her right arm, and held it out straight, where he saw needle marks along the Brachial Artery, instantly, he recognized them as syringe marks made by heroin.

Once Ron let go of her, she looked at him through dazed eyes, and beckoned to him with her finger, Ron grabbed the jacket on the chair next to the bed, and looked at the girl.

Where did you get this? he asked.

I am good. the girl said, her voice carrying a heavy French accent.

Where did you get this jacket? Ron asked again.

I am good. the girl said again, still staring off in a daze.

Shit, shes so strung out, I doubt that she even hears me. Ron thought, as he grabbed onto the girl, and slung her over a shoulder as though she were yesterdays garbage.

As he headed for the door, one of the men that had checked Ron in had walked into the trailer, and saw what was happening.

The man drew from inside of a jacket, a .40 Smith & Wesson pistol, this caused Ron to react instinctively.

Ron grabbed the mans hand, twisted hard at the wrist, and disarmed the man in one fluid motion, the breaking of bones filled the trailer, as Ron twisted the mans hand around.

The man screamed out in pain, as Ron slammed him hard to the floor, then, he turned the gun against its former master, and pulled the trigger. Three shots rang out, the final one hitting the man between the eyes, above the bridge of the nose.

Ron ran out of the trailer, practically dragging the young girl that had Kims jacket, he quickly ran into several men, all of them seeking to kill Ron where he stood.

The fight was on within seconds, as Ron began landing kick after kick, and punch after punch, killing several of the men with well placed kicks, or punches to the throat, he then grabbed a lead pencil close to him, as one of the bigger men came charging him.

Dude, you are so dead. Ron stated, staring at the man, until he was not more than about five steps away, Ron struck.

Ron grabbed the man by the back of the neck, spun him around, so that he was facing the way he had come, placed his right hand over the mans nose, and mouth, and jammed the pencil into the base of the mans neck, piercing the Juggler Vein.

What a bloody mess. Ron quipped, as the man tumbled to the ground, the blood squirting from the hole in time with the beats of the mans heart.

Ron dived into a Jeep Cherokee parked close, shoved the girl into the back seat, covered her face with Kims jacket, hot-wired the car, and took off in a pall of dirt, and the high whine of the engine, within a matter of seconds, about nine men hopped into three other SUVs parked close by, and took up chase.

Ron wove through the area, and several large end loading tractors as he attempted to make it to the exit, with three Mercedes SUVs on his tail, he quickly made a sharp turn, and caused one of the pursuing vehicles to hit a large mound of dirt, the car flipped over, and Ron turned, and took a shot at the car, hitting the gas tank with a couple of shots, causing a spark, and igniting the fuel inside, the car exploded into a ball of fire, killing all of the occupants inside.

One down, two to go. Ron said, as he took off, this time, heading straight for a second car, he hit it, and drove it over a high embankment, flipping it over, as he ran over the top of the car, and landed hard on the front wheels, that left a third pursuing vehicle, which Ron was becoming tired of.

Alright, boy . . . you wanna play rough, you got it. Ron stated, as the man fired three shots through the drivers side window, all three narrowly missing Ron, as he pushed the man toward a large mudhole.

Ron hit the hole, avoiding getting mud on the drivers side of the windshield, while the pursuing driver hit the mudhole full on, covering the windshield in mud, and muck.

The driver of the pursuing car turned on the wipers, and what he saw made him cover his face, he had swerved into the path of a front end loader tractor, the car collided with the bucket of the tractor, shearing half of the cars roof cleanly, and decapitating everyone inside.

Ron then turned the car for the exit, which he now noticed had been closed.

No time to go through the gate, guess Ill have to make my own exit. Ron said, as he dropped his right foot onto the accelerator pedal, the engine let out a loud rumble, as Ron pushed on the horn, the car went through the guard trailer, and out into the night.

At the home of Jean-Pierre La Mond:

The Director in Charge of Security for the Surtie was attempting to relax, when his private telephone rang. He picked it up, and on the other end, was his assistant.

Youre not gonna believe what he just did. the man said.

With Ronald, Ill believe anything. Jean-Pierre replied.

He just wrecked a construction site, twelve men dead, about another fifteen in hospital, he drove a pencil into one mans neck. the assistant relayed.

Sounds like his style, subtlety was never one of his strong points. Jean-Pierre replied.

What now? the assistant asked.

Now that hes active, my bet is hes gonna lose you. Jean-Pierre stated.

Ron was now back in town, when he noticed a small car that seemed to have taken a particular interest in him, he stopped at a red light, and didnt bother to wait for the light to turn green, taking off, and doubling back down the road. As Ron reached a level with the mysterious car, he turned, smiled, and stuck out his middle finger at the driver.

Shit. the man cursed, slamming his fist on the steering wheel, he was stuck, and unable to follow his prey. His boss warned him that Ron Stoppable would lose him, now that he has gone active, and thats exactly what happened.

At a hotel near the edge of Paris:

Ron walked in, and looked at the man behind the desk.

Hey, Gilles. Ron said, smiling at the man behind the desk.

Monsieur Stoppable, it has been a long time, no? the man asked.

Yeah, Gilles, too long . . . hows the wife? Ron asked.

Oh, you know her, thats why Im down here, I am beginning to believe that I cannot afford her. Gilles stated.

I need a room. Ron replied.

The usual accommodations? Gilles asked.

Plus one. Ron replied.

I will have everything ready . . . room three, first floor. Gilles replied, smiling at his old friend.

Thanks, at least I still have one friend in Paris thats willing to help me. Ron replied, ducking back into the night, to retrieve his guest, and his luggage.

Ron knew he needed the girl to talk to him, and relay what she knew, so, he needed her to regain her strength, and the only way he could do that, is with certain medications, medications he knew Gilles had access to, and could acquire for him, that is the only reason he came to this part of town, to this hotel. Ron would nurse the girl back to health, get the information he needed, and allow the girl to return to her life before she was forced into a very dangerous lifestyle, a lifestyle he couldnt allow Kim to get into. Not for nothing, was Ron not only the infiltrator in his group, he was also a skilled medic. He would do what he needed, and let the girl be on her way.

Something tells me that this is going to be the longest night in history. he thought to himself, as he opened the door to the room, and sat down at the small table to begin the work of bringing the girl around.

Chapter 4 is now finished, from here, its only going to get interesting, so, get ready. I have a feeling that this might be a little shorter than the usual fifteen chapter stories you have come to expect that it should still be a decent read.

As always, keep the reviews coming,

Doug