A/N: I do not own Kim Possible nor Splinter Cell. All characters and concepts are copyrighted by their respective owners.

All Americans have four basic freedoms. Freedom of speech and expression, freedom of every person to worship their own way, freedom from want, and freedom from fear. However, we alone have the Fifth Freedom. We have the freedom to lie, steal, exploit, dominate, kill, and undertake any other action to protect American freedoms. We are above laws and morals in order to maintain them. If we are caught, our very existence will be denied. We are alone but we are strong. We are Ron Stoppable and Kim Possible. We are Splinter Cells.

25 June 2012, 2213hrs

Istanbul, Turkey

Dr. Dementor's Lair

The diminutive villain laughed heartily as he eyed his latest possession. It was no bigger than a suitcase, but it had the potential to destroy entire cities. Dr. Dementor opened the container, and viewed his prize with a malevolent glint in his eyes. He spoke to an empty room, his words laced with his heavy German accent. "With this device, I shall rule world. The leaders of the world shall surrender to me, or face a nuclear holocaust!" Dementor let loose a wicked laugh, but stopped as he was startled by a noise.

Ron silently cursed himself for allowing his foot to find some loose change. He adjusted his night vision goggles, and looked ahead to see Kim behind a crate. Ron then looked back to his left, feeling relief as it seemed that Dementor was still unaware. He then pulled out his silenced 9mm pistol, chambered a round, and gave Kim a hand signal.

Dementor looked around for the source of the noise, but didn't see anything. It must be those damn rats again. I told those slackers to take care of those pests. Speaking of which, where are those bumbling fools? He didn't have long to ponder this, as a strong arm reached around and put him in a choke hold. The feeling of cold gunmetal against flesh quickly followed.

Dementor screamed, "Henchmen, get your lazy asses out here! I'm in great danger here!" Several moments passed, with no sign of any henchmen. "Where are you idiots?! Help me!" Again nothing happened, when Dementor's captor spoke up. "I wouldn't bother calling for your lackeys. They're all incapacitated right now." The captor's voice was rough and humorless, and quite intimidating.

"Wh…What do you want from me?" the diminutive villain asked. He was in fear right now, with a gun to his head and no bodyguards. The rough voice answered, "First off, I ask the questions around here. Second, I want you to tell me who you got your little toy from. The sooner you talk, the less pain you will feel. Am I clear?" Dementor ignored his captor, refusing to speak. "I guess you want to suffer then."

Ron twisted Dementor's left arm, able to dislocate it with just a slight bit of pressure. "You better talk Dr. Dementor, or I will dislocate your arm. And trust me it is not pleasant. Who did you get the nuke from?" "I don't know," Dementor said, "they kept themselves anonymous." But his eyes told a different story, and with a slight twist Ron dislocated Dementor's shoulder.

Dementor screamed out in agony as a searing pain shot through his shoulder. He was astounded. He could hardly believe that this person dislocated his arm. Weren't there laws against this kind of treatment? Dementor then heard another voice, one that was more feminine. "Ron, I've got the bomb. Has Dementor talked yet?"

"Just gettin' started KP. So, Dementor, I bet your shoulder isn't feelin' too hot right about now. Tell me who gave you the bomb or I will do the other shoulder." Dementor's breaths came in shallow pants; his shoulder was in excruciating pain. "I'm growing impatient Dementor. Who gave you the bomb?" Ron applied more pressure to Dementor's right arm, to drive the point home.

"I already told you, I don't know. They kept themselves anonymous." Dementor was panicking and scared. He couldn't tell this person any names, or his suppliers would kill him. That is if he didn't die by this man's hands first. Dementor felt the pressure on his arm increase, yet he remained silent. Then the female spoke up again. "Ron, we gotta go. Our ride's getting ready to leave. Finish up so we can head to the chopper."

"Gotcha KP." Satisfied with the answer, Kim started to walk off. Dementor felt relief as the pressure on his arm went away. He was going to live, oh how fortunate! But his joy was shattered by a familiar clicking sound. Dementor turned around, to see his blond captor pointing a gun at him. "What are you doing?" he asked, "Aren't you supposed to let me go?"

Ron looked down at Dementor, his brown eyes boring into Dementor. "First rule about witnesses: There are no witnesses." Dementor looked up in shock as the gun was leveled at his head. The last sound he would ever hear was the muffled report of the blond's silenced pistol. Ron then reholstered his sidearm, and took off to catch up with Kim and the awaiting V-22 Osprey.

Ron climbed aboard, to find Kim already there and stripping her gear. Ron followed suit, starting with his night vision goggles, followed by his Kevlar vest and OpSat. He then unloaded his sidearm and placed it in the gun cabinet. Seeing that his gear was all checked in he sat down in the aircraft's seats, which consisted of nylon straps and thin cushions. Ron then checked his watch, noting that the time was 2300hrs. He didn't even seem to notice Kim snuggling up to him, or the Osprey taking off, as he drifted into a slumber.

A/N: Hope ya'll enjoyed it. Read and review, let me know what I can do to make this story better. Thanks for reading.