Disclaimer: I don't own tmnt.


Air Hanger 351, New York City, USA

"Are we ready?"

"Yes Boss. We're ready to go."

"Good."

The punk awkwardly bowed and backed away from the foreigner. He was a tall man, who stood like a General overseeing his troops. His suit was Italian. It was almost as dark as his skin. He had to be in his early thirties, but hairless from head to foot.

"Let us go then." He said with a slight Ethiopian accent.

He marched towards the 747. Punks, and bribed employees alike hurried to get out of his way, and no one dared to look at his cold and steely eyes. For if you valued your life, you didn't look into Demissie's eyes.

Demissie smirked a little as he climbed the stairs to get into the plane. In spite of the rumors his business transaction had gone quite smoothly, and he was pleased with the results.

All of the passenger seats and overhead compartments had been removed from the aircraft. Crates upon crates of cargo were bolted to the floor except for four first class seats that were separated from the rest by a silk curtain.

Demissie reclined in his seat while his three bodyguards remained alert and the pilot began his pre-flight checks. He took a champagne glass from the stewardess and sipped it gingerly. He wasn't out of New York yet so he wouldn't be celebrating too much, at least, not until they were out in international airspace.

After all, he knew the stories. Four… freaks, costume wearing kids, or whatever they were had launched a war of sorts against illegal actives and those who deemed it possible. Drug runners, street gangs, organized crime, and gun dealers all seemed to wither under their swift attacks.

"Hmph!" Demissie shrugged. He was not a fool. Nor was he a child, and would not be scared away by boogymen.

…………………………………………………………

Air Hanger 351, New York City, USA (Five Minutes Ago)

"There it is."

"Are we sure about this Raphie boy? They're taking those guns out of New York. So… tell me why we're risking our shells again?"

"That doesn't matter Mikey. Where ever they take those guns they are going to be used to hurt innocent people."

"Don's right Mikey. Whatdaya think there gonna do with 'em? Melt 'em down ta make fluffy bunny statues?"

"Enough chatter. They're getting ready to take off, so let's move."

"Lead da way Fearless."

Four figures darted from one cluster of shadows to another. Edging closer to the plane each time.

The plan was to get Donnie inside so he could mess with the wiring. When this flight was premantly delayed they would pick off the obviously well trained bodyguards, and then let Raph have his fun brawling with the gangbangers that remained. Once they were safely away they would call the police and let them pick up the neatly tied up criminals.

At least that was the plan….

………………………………………………………………

Air Hanger 351, New York City, USA (Two Minutes Ago)

Agent Scott pulled the FBI standard issue body armor over his head.

Thanks to a tip from a not so crooked air traffic controller they had managed to get to the air hanger before Demissie's crew was about to take off.

It was a rush, but that was good. It meant that no one had the time to file the paperwork yet, and the bureau suspected that Demissie had a mole. So for now, the entire Op. was off the books.

They had it surrounded. SWAT teams, a fleet of federal agents above and below ground, and they even had a helicopter on its way. Nothing was getting out of that hanger without the FBI's say so.

Scott buckled on the bulletproof helmet, drew his weapon, and got into position.

When they were given the go ahead he nodded to another agent who pulled back the door.

"FBI! Get Down On The Ground!"

………………………………………………………………

Air Hanger 351, New York City, USA, (present)

"FBI! Get Down On The Ground!"

The hanger exploded in gunfire from both sides, and the rain of bullets surrounded the guys.

"Down! Down!" Leo hissed pulling Mikey into the airplane with the rest of them.

"What the shell?!?" Raph cursed.

They had just snuck onboard the plane when the FBI showed up. Its metal sides protected them from the bullets but they were trapped.

"But I hacked into the FBI database before we came. There was nothing about a air hanger sting!" Don said, baffled.

"That doesn't matter now!" Leo replied. He pulled the lever that closed the plane's cargo hold and ordered, "Now go! Go! Hide in the cargo!"

………………………………………………………………...

Air Hanger 351, New York City, USA, (present)

"FBI! Get Down On The Ground!"

As the hanger rang out with gunfire Demissie's bodyguards leaped up to protect thier client.

"Get out of my way you fools!" Demissie shouted. The last thing he wanted was to stay here a second longer.

He marched to the cockpit and screamed at the pilot, "Go Now!"

"B-But we haven't finished our pre-flight and…"

Demissie wouldn't hear it. He pulled out his gun and pressed the barrel against the pilot's head. "I suggest that if you wish not to have eh bullet in your skull you get us in the air. Now!"

"The cargo door is closing!" The co-pilot stammered, "Firing up engines."

"Now!" Demissie hissed.

The pilots rushed through any essential steps and the plane taxied out of the hanger. However a group of FBI, SUVS blocked the runway, and the plane began to slow.

"What are you doing?" Demissie hissed.

"W-we can't use the runway. So we can't take…"

Bang!

The pilot slumped over the joystick, bleeding from the bullet wound in his head. Demissie grabbed the poor guy's body and pushed it aside. Taking his place Demissie release the throttle and barreled the plane forward.

Some FBI agents stayed longer that others, but they all eventually figured out that you can't play chicken with a plane.

Whoosh!

Disrupting all ground traffic, the plane continued to pick up speed. Faster and faster it raced own the runway. The flaps moved into place. The tail tipped back and they were airborne.

Air traffic controllers screamed on the radio. Ranting about the disruptions, and disorder they were making to all air traffic, but Demissie ignored it. The co-pilot looked at his co-worker's body and then turned down the volume.

"Congratulations Mr.…?" Demissie asked.

"Smith." The co-pilot blurted, "Mr. Smith."

"Congratulations Mr. Smith." Demissie corrected, "You have now been promoted ta pilot."

Demissie stood up. Mr. Smith took over the controls and as Demissie left the cockpit he ordered, "Now get us into international airspace!"

………………………………………………………………

Demissie's 747 airplane, United States Airspace

"Great! Now what are we gunna do?" Raph hissed, "Typical turtle luck! We try ta do something good and it end ups blowing up in our faces."

"I'm thinking Raph." Leo whispered back. Being trapped at 30,000 ft in a plane full of guns wasn't apart of the plan.

Well… They had to do something, and there was no way of telling where these guys were headed. So… They'd have to take the plane. Which so much harder than it sounded.

From the stance and conceled weapon of these bodyguards Leo didn't want to take them lightly. He had also heard the shot before take off, so someone up there had a gun. Not to mention the fact that they had limited space to maneuver in, and they were surrounded by guns. You might as well put a mouse in a box of rat poison and tell it to escape.

That was when the dart slammed into his neck.

………………………………………………………

"Leo!"

The drugs worked like lightning threw his system, and the unconscious turtle collapsed like a house of cards.

A bodyguard jumped out from behind one of the crates and let loose a round of darts. The guys managed to dodge them, but then the other two showed up.

The first tried to pin Raph to a crate, but he was too slow.

Raph drew his sai so quickly that they tore an 'X' into the bodyguard's suit. The guard jumped back. Withdrew a pair of jitte and jabbed them at Raph's head. Metal clanged. The pointed blades slashed, and jabbed at their opponent but each time the other would effectively block and repel.

It the corner of his eye, Raph spotted an opening. A slight angle in his left wrist that he could take advantaged of and drove his sai into it. The jitte flew out of the guard's hand. Soon followed by the other. The bodyguard screamed and clutched his bleeding wrist.

The second immediately brought out his sickle and sliced at Don.

"Whoa!" Don shouted, barely getting his Bo staff up it time.

The blade hooked around the wood. The guard struggled to yank back or push the staff out of the way, but Don wouldn't budge. The activity made him lose his balance and Don had to lean back heavily on a crate. It's lid fell of revealing several fully automatics. The guard cackled and reacted up for one.

"I don't think so!" Don shouted. He twisted his Bo staff, smacking it into the side of his head. The bodyguard fell, and Don raised his staff to knock him out.

Mikey had to deal with dart gun guy. Shooting round after round, he had to keep up a quick twirl with his chucks or one of the darts could hit him or his brothers. All while Mikey slowly made his way closer to the dude. Being careful where he stepped. The darts that he defected crumpled on the floor, and if he managed to be drugged just because of clumsy footing he'd never hear the end of it from Raph.

Plink! Plink! P-Plink!

"Dude! Can't you see that it ain't workin' for ya?" Mikey asked, but he didn't give the guy any time to react. Mikey stopped twirling one chuck, grabbed a crate lid, and threw it at the dude. The guard didn't have room to duck so it nailed him right between the eyes. He fell and Mikey moved in for the knock out blow.

"Drop your weapons or he dies!" Demissie shouted, and everyone froze.

Demissie had propped Leo up against a crate and was holding a gun to their sleeping brother's head.

"I already have ta make an Atlantic body disposal." Demissie said calmly. He tilted his head towards the pilot's body and finished, "Another would not trouble me a bit."

"…"

"I will say this only one more time. Drop your weapons" Demissie ordered.

The guys looked at each other, and dropped their weapons.

"Smart move." Demissie grinned.

The bodyguards scrambled to their feet, and knocked the guys out. Though unlike Leo the bodyguard didn't use drugs this time.


AN: I might not be able to update very often, but I hope the different view points weren't confusing. Reviews are always apreciated.