A/N: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Sadly.
So for some background for those of you who watch the newer television series, movies etc. April O'Neil was originally cast in the comics as a computer programmer (and later in a 2003 television series as well) however she was a television reporter in her debut in animation in 1987. I like her as a computer programmer, she has a much stronger personality, but the reporter will allow me to take this story where I want it to go. So, I'll be rolling with that version of April. Albeit, she won't be running into any walls and knocking herself out (Which actually happened in the first animated series…oh 1980's how we miss you).
Summary: April O'Neil has been dogging her boss for months to let her cover something more than just 'fluff' stories. Bernie finally throws her a bone. It's a lead in a fifteen year old cold case.
Cataclysm
Chapter 1
April huffed as Ronnie switched the camera feed off, letting the microphone drop to her side as she tried, and failed, to let the contestants of the New York City AKC Dog Show know exactly what she thought of them. Her eyes caught on a Pomeranian and her scowl darkened. "Nothing but fluff."
"Hey April, let's get outa here. My sinuses are acting up." Ronnie called out, a red handkerchief pressed over his lower face and the camera hefted over his shoulder. April gave the floor of the dog show one more disgusted look before she stormed out behind Ronnie as he snuffled into the swatch of fabric.
The mid-February air was a shock to their senses as the small news team hurried through packing their gear into the blue news van. "Another fluff piece." April groused as Todd turned the key and pressed his gloved hands to the heater, despite the cold air blasting through the vents. She huddled down farther in the passenger's seat.
"You'll get there, April." Todd stated consolingly through chattering teeth, tucking his chin into his scarf as he did so. The frost on the window began to melt slowly, crumbling downwards towards the windshield wipers.
April huffed, watching her breath mist the air, "I'm there now! Why won't Bernie throw me a bone! I can do this!"
Ronnie slammed the side door shut with a shaky laugh, "Throw me a bone. That's a good one." He rubbed his gloved hands together, not bothering with a seat belt as Todd jerked the news van into gear. April made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, tucking her hands into her armpits for warmth as they veered out of the convention center parking lot and back towards the station.
"I'm not covering the elementary school science fair." April stated, quickly cutting off her boss' latest assignment.
"You love science; this is right up your alley." He protested, still shielded from view by a newspaper. April glared at his sausage like fingers, willing him to change his mind.
"Yeah baking soda volcanoes and moldy bread will definitely pique my interest. C'mon Bernie, how about you give me that crime wave piece?" April pressed on, blue eyes glinting in determination.
"Vernon's covering the crime wave, April." He sounded exasperated from behind his newspaper. She pressed her lips into a fine line as she listened to her boss wave away her latest attempts to distance herself from the fluff pieces that plagued her career.
"Something else then, the city council elections are coming up." She pushed, desperate.
"Alice has politics covered; she's been working that story for months."
April almost growled. Instead she stopped and counted to ten silently, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Please, Bernie. Anything but fluff, I want to be taken seriously for once." She pleaded, a hint of hysteria creeping into her tone. Bernie "Burn" Thompson flicked his paper down to look at her from over his rectangular glasses. His bald head gleamed in the florescent lighting.
"Well, I have something. It's not Vernon's crime wave story, but it's not fluff either." He folded the paper onto his desk before hunting around in his drawer for something. April felt hope flutter in her ribcage. He pulled a file from his bottom drawer and flicked it open, "A fifteen year old cold case. There was a break in at T.C.R.I, the company was pretty tight lipped about what was stolen. A few days ago someone mailed this to me." He handed her the file, and April's smile widened. "It could be nothing." he warned in an offhanded manner.
"Or, it could lead to something!" April suppressed the urge to jump up and down in excitement as she peered into the file. "An inventory list? They stole a potentially toxic compound that was being researched at the facility." April flicked through the paperwork, pausing at a molecular diagram and frowning as she recognized some of the elements in the compound. "I can have this story?" she inquired taking a step back and hugging the file to her chest.
Bernie nodded, reaching for his paper again, "And follow it wherever it takes you, on one condition." Bernie warned waving his paper in a no nonsense manner, "Don't get in over your head."
April grinned at him, "I promise, sir." she took several backwards steps towards the office door, "You won't regret this, sir!" She twisted the knob and took off down the hallway, nose already stuck in the file.
Bernie sighed and flourished his paper, "I already do."
April sucked on the pen cap as she reviewed her notes; post-its covered the wall, strings tacked between so many notes that the wall-turned-collage was starting to look like a spider web. She had been digging for info for two weeks and had already analyzed that the theft could only have been an inside job. She was leaning more towards one employee in particular, Baxter Stockman. He had been let go weeks after the theft, most likely because his employers had come to the same conclusion she had after looking at the lab's entrance logs.
She frowned, what would Stockman want with the substance? She had wracked her brain over the molecular compound, had made discreet inquiries over its potential properties and still she was at a loss. Her only lead was Stockman. She had dug into the man's life, humming over his shady finances, his new company which quickly became the leading industry in robotics and weapons development, and his newest invention which had been donated to the city, Mousers. Large, menacing, bipedal robots that made her feel sorry for the rats of the city. She sighed and stretched, rubbing at her forehead as she muttered about needing fresh air.
April couldn't believe her luck. She had been buying a birthday present for her soon to be ten year old nephew, when she spotted him. Stepping into a company car across the street was Baxter Stockman, looking rather shifty coming out of a small run down Laundromat. April nearly jumped in front of a cab in her haste to hail it, clutching the terrarium tightly to her chest and after sliding into the back seat with a hasty "Follow that car!" she smiled apologetically at the tiny turtle housed within. It blinked dazedly up at her, and she rubbed its head with her index finger.
The cabbie dutifully followed the car, twisting its way through New York until they came to a seedy warehouse by the docks. Baxter got out of the car after a long moment swiftly making his way inside, hands glued in his pockets and shoulders hunched low. His car didn't linger long as it crunched through the snowy gravel and out of sight. April cautiously got out of the cab, instructing the cabbie to make a few rounds around the neighborhood. He grumbled as she shut the door, but complied with a squeal of rubber and hail of slush and gravel.
April shuddered then blinked down at the terrarium she had brought with her in her haste to follow. Cursing herself quietly, she frowned down at the reptile before lifting it carefully out of the tank and sliding it into her inner jacket pocket and buttoning her coat. She placed the terrarium on the sidewalk before quickly making her way towards the building, fingers wrapping around her smartphone in the warm depths of her pocket.
The back of the building had rickety snow covered crates piled as high as the window, but April quickly dismissed the idea as dangerous and slunk towards the unguarded back door. Water lapped against the docks and she shivered as an icy wind cut through her jacket. Twisting the door knob slowly, she smiled brightly when the door clicked open.
The inside of the dilapidated building took April by surprise. It had been converted into some sort of patchwork lab. The equipment, April realized quickly, belonged to the different stores and businesses that had been experiencing robberies lately. "Sorry Vernon, looks like I got the scoop on your crime wave, after all." She murmured, tapping her phone's screen to wake it up.
Clicking pictures of equipment as she went, April steadily slunk her way into the makeshift laboratory, listening to the distant muttering of voices as she went. "-Finally discovered its use, quite by accident of course." The tone was nasally and didn't quite fit the image Baxter portrayed. She crouched behind a hulking machine she'd only seen on TV and stuck her phone up over it snapping a volley of pictures as she went. "The substance is a mutagen, it elongates the life of whatever comes into contact with, and it also makes it grow exponentially. Think of what this could mean for agriculture, for the world!"
She drew her hand down and flicked through them carefully. Baxter was talking to a slim nondescript man in a lab coat, a small canister in his hands and a dandelion about his height behind him. April blinked at the photos in disbelief. "Agriculture will not be on our client's agenda I assure you." Baxter's deeper voice cut through the smaller scientist's excitement.
April crept backwards, a small frown marring her facial features. Client meant he'd been working for someone, possibly someone influential. Her back came into contact with something solid, and warm. With a sharp intake of breath she whipped her head upwards. A muscular man grinned down at her, arms crossed, and a purple dragon wrapped around his left bicep. He wiggled his fingers in a mockery of a wave. April, gulped, suddenly feeling like she'd gotten in over her head, despite her promise to Bernie.
Scooting backwards, the red head reached behind her for something, anything to use to defend herself. Her fingers brushed against something and she scrabbled to grasp it. It popped off of the machine with a hiss and she lunged upward swinging a small, cylindrical, metal canister at his face as hard as she could. He grunted staggering backwards and holding his face as blood spurted between his fingers. April took off running back the way she came, sneakers squeaking against the floor.
Alarms began to go off, a cacophony of voices adding to the confusion. Echoes and chaos dogged her steps until she burst from the back door into the debilitating cold. She whirled around the corner only to skid to a stop at the sight of the muscled man framed by two larger thugs. The street light flickered ominously glistening off of the blood that was sluggishly running over his chin. The scowl under the lamplight twisted into a shadow expression that promised painful retribution.
She spun around and stuttered to a stop at the sight of more men with similar tattoos blinking into the dim light of the back alley. Acting without thinking, she bolted towards the docks, panic rising in her throat. Her grip on her weapon slipped, and it tumbled across the dock, glass shattering before it dropped into the ocean with a plop. "I got her!" A hand caught her jacket sleeve just as her feet hit a patch of black ice. Her sleeve ripped, and April tumbled forward, sliding into florescent green, ice cold water.
A/N: So I know this is probably not my best work, but I thank you for reading it and putting up with my on the spot wish to get something out there. This was a sudden thought that I had while I was reading about the new Michael Bay TMNT that's coming out this year. And I started reminiscing on the past TMNT shows, and a thought struck me. Why haven't I seen any Mutant!April stories? I may continue this or I may not. I'm still working on Truth is Stranger Chapter 2 so that may take the forefront. Review, constructive criticism is welcome.