Disclaimer
Turtles and all related characters do not belong to me and are used here without permission. They belong to Peter Laird and the fine folks at Mirage Studios. Artisan and Fred Wolf own the 1987 TV version of the turtles, which this draws inspiration from.
Disclaimer Pt 2
This is an AU but in no way includes High Schools, Vampires or Female Turtles, not even Venus de Milo.
Revolution: Prelude and Chapter One - In which an understanding is reached, April reports a theory and Oroku Saki expects uninvited guests.
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Prelude
The room was dark and silent. A single candle lit two kneeling figures that were facing each other, not saying anything. They didn't need to; communication had long ago gone beyond words and to simple understanding.
It was time.
A third figure entered the circle of light. It was as silent as the pair kneeling, masking its presence carefully. Not a whisper of air betrayed its presence. Slowly and carefully it lowered a Groucho mask onto the face of one of the kneeling figures. Between the two figures the silent understanding continued.
It was time for Mikey to leave the lair.
--
Chapter One
April O'Neil, hotshot reporter for Channel Six News, pulled her hand away from adjusting her hair, straightened and looked directly at the camera. Behind her, police tape cordoned off a large building and harried looking officers scurried back and forth, trying to ignore the growing number of press arriving at the scene.
A camera man and a technician had staked their plot and in the Channel Six news van sat Vernon, possibly the most rat-like man she had ever met. He was looking at the screens that lined one wall of the van, assessing the shots and giving instructions through a headset to the camera man. As always Vernon looked slightly panicked, like he wanted to be somewhere else. As far as April could tell, he seemed to live in a permanent cloud of stress. He waved his hand at her to make sure that he had her attention then held up three fingers, two fingers, one...
"Hello, this is April O'Neil of Channel Six News, reporting to you live from the Eglestone Research Institute. This scientific research centre was the scene earlier today of yet another laboratory robbery. Two security guards and four staff members were found unconscious at the scene, apparently due to some sort of toxin. The staff members are said to be in a stable condition.
"This is the fourth robbery of equipment from a scientific research facility in as many days." Out of the corner of her eye, April caught Vernon waving his hands at her, and she shifted her eyes to the side to see the technician gesturing for a short, nervous-looking man to approach. As he came over, the technician thrust a lab coat into his hands which the man hastily put on.
"To shed some light on what has been stolen and why," April continued, turning her full attention back to the camera, "We have noted physicist Doctor Heinrich Kleinman. Doctor Kleinman, what has been stolen so far?"
Kleinman glanced nervously at the camera, and then looked back at April. "Uhh, two positronic accelerators, four reverse flux polarity indicators and one parabolic sinewave generator."
April smiled and nodded her head, trying to make it look like she understood what he was talking about. "And what is it that these things do, Doctor?"
Kleinman looked stumped for a minute, and then gave the only reply he could, knowing his reputation was already shattered. "I have no idea."
Vernon groaned and spoke quickly into his headset, getting the cameraman to refocus on April while the technician rushed the doctor off the scene. April smiled at the camera and snapped her eyes onto the auto-cue.
"A statement from the directors of three of the laboratories which have been targeted seeks to reassure the public that, while a great loss to the scientific community, the equipment taken cannot be used in the manufacture of weapons or explosives, either conventional, nuclear or biological. They have also expressed their confusion at the purpose behind these thefts. The equipment is highly specialized, and while expensive, not something that can easily be sold. Many pieces of equipment, just as valuable but much easier to sell, have been ignored.
"Police remain baffled. The only clues to the crime are small punctures on the guards and staff members found unconscious on the scene. Due to the lack of a struggle it is believed that the victims were surprised and sedated. Information obtained by this station has suggested that a rare Japanese drug was used in the assault. Experts we spoke to earlier today have said that the methods used are reminiscent of the legendary 'ninja' of Japanese folklore." She ignored Vernon's desperately waving hands indicating for her to cut.
"The authorities have so far treated this suggestion as ludicrous, but have yet to present any alternative theories. This is April O'Neil coming to you live for Channel Six News." She stood there for a moment longer until Vernon gave her an angry cut signal.
Vernon slammed his hand onto the control to cut the feed, and then stormed out of the van. "And just what do you call that?" he asked.
April unclipped the microphone and handed it to the technician. "Putting some life into a dead story. Come on,Vernon – 'positronic wave agitators'? The viewers don't know what one is, and as long as it can't blow up Manhattan Island or make nuclear bombs, they don't care. Police are baffled? The only thing this story's got going for it are the fact that the staff are being knocked out by little darts. Anyway," she added thoughtfully, "It could be ninjas."
Vernon snorted. "Yeah, if I remember correctly that theory came from some guy that was hanging around Irma. And the only reason he came up with that is because he liked to watch cartoons. Now, we've got two hours before we cover the Trans-Continental Research and Investigation reception. Oroku Saki and TCRI have been making a lot of the right friends, so could you try not to ruffle any feathers?"
April smiled at him. "Me? Why would I do anything like that?"
--
Two hours later, April O'Neil was standing uncomfortably on the roof of the newly constructed TCRI building. Around her, important people mingled and talked, but mostly not to her; she had a bad habit of repeating things she was told as part of a story. Rocks, plants and sand had been laid out to give the suggestion of a traditional Japanese garden. There was even a bamboo thingy going 'doink' in one corner. She made a note to get one of the Channel Six researchers to let her know what it was called for the report.
She felt uncomfortable in the dress that her boss had insisted that she wear. She was sure that the taxi driver who had driven her here had been leering at her in the rear view mirror, and to top it off she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong about Saki as he drifted from person to person, smiling and chatting away. The smile never seemed to get beyond his mouth, and it certainly never touched his eyes.
This, combined with what she had been hearing from some of her sources, was making her very nervous. They were reporting some unsavoury rumours about his operations in Japan. She could believe them, looking at him here. Oroku Saki was definitely one of those people that managed to look predatory, no matter what he was doing.
Six months ago, he'd arrived in New York, a foreign business man with money, power and influence but almost no past to speak of. Some information could be found about him from his time in Japan, but not much - and certainly not where the money was coming from. So far, no one had asked too many hard questions, as he was giving the money and support to all the right people.
He had invested particularly heavily in scientific circles and was funding a number of research projects in the theoretical physics and medical fields. He also had a number of known philanthropic projects, housing and services for the homeless, a keen interest in immigration and human rights operations.
She knew that she should like him. He did all the right things, helped the right people and supported the right charities. The sources of these reports were all without evidence to back them up or unwilling to speak on the record, but her reporter's instincts told her to listen to those quiet whispers, rather than the image the man walking towards her projected.
She focused her thoughts and brought her reporter's smile to her face as he held out his hand to her. He wasn't the only one who knew how to smile for an audience.
"Ah, Miss O'Neil. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I watched with some interest your report on the research institute thefts. Some interesting... theories," he said, voice as smooth, charming and empty as his smile.
April groaned inwardly. Expressing the ninja theory live on air probably hadn't been the best career move. She broadened her smile and tried to shift the topic. "Are you worried about the thefts? I understand you are constructing quite a large laboratory here in this building."
Oroku Saki shook his head. "Not at all. I am confident that I will be able avoid any such trouble, Miss O'Neil. I have great faith in my security systems to keep any... unwanted guests away."
April studied him closely as he said this. Something about his tone didn't seem quite right. He sounded vaguely amused and there was a slight pause before he said unwanted. It almost seemed that he was expecting something.
"And what is this facility for, exactly?" she asked, to cover any indication that she had noted the pause. "The press release says something about launching a vaccination program from here, but that we would get more details at the press conference."
"And indeed, you shall. At the press conference which is due to start in about half an hour. I assure you that you will get all the information you require then."
Oroku Saki smiled that fake smile and started to move away. April could tell that something in his attitude had changed. Before he had been interested in her, but just then she was sure that she had been dismissed, reclassified as unimportant.
--
At the same time that April was contemplating the best way to uncover the truth about Oroku Saki without getting fired, four figures were moving towards the building far, far below. The city of New York was built on a warren of sewers, subway tunnels and access shafts. There were very few places that could not be accessed through this underground network, and for those that knew the layout the tunnels provided quick and hidden paths to surprising places.
The four shadowed figures certainly knew the paths well; they had mapped out and practised this route time and again until they could walk it blind. They were standing at a wall almost directly below April's position, several floors below ground level. The wall seemed identical to all the others, but one of them tapped around a little. A second or two later, he had found what he was looking for. Sliding the camouflaged hatch out of the way, he revealed a keypad with a thin slot above it, looking something like an ATM.
Reaching into a bag, he pulled out a small, card-like device. Wires ran from it back into the bag. He slotted it into the panel and stood back. Another second went passed and then a section of the wall slid back.
The four figures that slid into the TCRI building's sub-basement level did not notice the small hidden camera recording these events from the other side of the tunnel.
--
Hello, what's this? April thought to herself. A man in security uniform had moved over to Oroku Saki and was talking quietly to him. The man moved oddly, almost mechanically. Oroku Saki glanced at his guests, and then went inside with the guard. For the first time he was not smiling, and from his body language he seemed slightly angry.
A second or two after their host vanished inside, April followed. One of the party attendants looked up as she entered the corridor inside. "I'm afraid the press conference has been slightly delayed." The attendant told her. "If you could wait outside a little longer?"
"I'm sorry," April said. "I'm actually looking for the bathroom."
"Oh, then if you go down the hall slightly and to your right. Please do not go beyond the double doors at the end of the corridor. That area is off limits to guests and the press."
April smiled at the attendant. "Thank you for making me aware of that."
She walked quietly, listening. Oroku Saki had been agitated and in a hurry. Whatever the security guard had wanted was obviously urgent. She hoped that it was urgent enough that he had decided to use one of the nearby offices. She wasn't disappointed.
His voice with its perfect, textbook English could be heard coming from one of the rooms just a little further on. She glanced back at the attendant and was pleased to see a couple of drunken businessmen were occupying their attention. Not wasting the opportunity, she stopped at the office door just after the one Oroku Saki was occupying. She tried the handle and - finding it open - slipped inside. Quietly, she eased the door closed behind her and slid over to the adjoining wall. She pressed her ear near to the plaster divide and listened.
"...ot to send them to me, Krang. They could attract attention."
The voice that responded was strange, almost bubbly and high-pitched. "You also told me to make sure you knew when your special guests arrived."
"They're here?"
"Yes. They broke into the sub-basement a couple of minutes ago."
There was a pause before Oroku Saki responded. "That's a shame. I was hoping to meet them myself, but I can not avoid attending to my guests. Well, Krang, it seems that we will be able to give your creations a little test run and see if they are worth the investment."
"Oh, I think you will find that they are worth every penny spent on them," Krang said. Listening to the way he was talking, April got the impression they didn't like each other much. "I've already dispatched a couple to acquire the rather nosy reporter listening to us from the next office over."
April was already moving before he finished the sentence, running through various excuses she would use. The door opened before she got to it and two security guards stood there, much like the one that had gone to Oroku Saki in the garden. They move quickly to her in that odd, stiff motion that she had noticed before, and now she had a chance to look at their faces, they too seemed off. She searched for the right words even as they grabbed her. Lifeless, that was good; almost... robotic.
--
Next Time
The Shredder gives a press conference, a reporter meets a brain, Baxter Stockman is given credit and something goes 'klang'.