Friend, Family
Hands held high, weapons stripped from them, the pair of mutant turtles glanced at each other.
The message in that look was clear. They were in deep dog poop.
Bishop's troopers held them at gun point, marching them through narrow sewer tunnels where there was little room to maneuver. The men stayed far enough back so that any sudden movement from their captives could be met with immediate deadly force.
Both Donatello and Michelangelo knew that Bishop didn't actually care if they arrived at his laboratory alive or dead.
They could only hope that their brothers would track their shell cells and get there in time to save them. Ending up in small pieces on Bishop's exam table was not an appealing thought.
The tunnel ahead of them grew brighter. A trooper pulled his communication device from his belt, heeding a signal to change frequencies. It was then the brothers learned that every other frequency had been jammed. No one would be tracking their shell cells.
With a laugh, one of the troopers informed them that just around a bend in the tunnel was their exit, where they were being met by a squadron of soldiers. Anyone attempting a rescue would either be mowed down or captured too.
A dark side tunnel loomed ahead. It was probably their last chance for escape.
"If your feet even turn in that direction, we'll blast you," one of the troopers said, as though reading their minds.
They walked past the tunnel, letting the opportunity pass them by. Maybe they'd get another.
A sudden roar took everyone by surprise. From out of the side tunnel a huge form shot out at the troopers, throwing them like rag dolls against the tunnel walls. None of the men even had a chance to cry out, much less to call for assistance.
Broken and bleeding, Bishop's troopers lay at Leatherhead's feet. The giant crocodile turned to the turtles, his pupils shifting from angry slits to the intelligent, rounded ones the turtles knew so well.
"Come, we haven't much time," Leatherhead told them.
The turtles moved quickly, retrieving their weapons from their captors and following Leatherhead back into the dark side tunnel. For someone of his bulk, Leatherhead moved fast, and the turtles could race alongside without fear of passing him.
"How did you know we were in trouble?" Donatello asked as they ran.
"I have developed a sixth sense for this type of danger," Leatherhead said. "Bishop and his men carry the stench of death with them wherever they go. I was in hiding when they marched you past me. I came back around to effect a rescue."
"Good thing for us you were there," Michelangelo said. "We were in a tight spot."
"We are still in a tight spot," Leatherhead said. "Several squadrons of Bishop's men have converged overhead. We must find a way to evade their search before it begins. They will discover your escape very soon."
After a few moments of running, Don said, "I don't know this area of the tunnel system very well. Do you know where we are LH?"
Leatherhead turned down another tunnel, the ceiling of which was too short for him to run upright. "I have been through them once or twice. If I remember correctly, we will soon reach a place where the tunnel system was flooded during a collapse years ago. The engineers chose to reroute rather than to rebuild."
"Doesn't that mean we're heading straight for a dead end?" Don asked with a touch of alarm.
"Ah, here it is," Leatherhead announced, stopping abruptly. "Perfect. They will not think to search here."
The 'here' he referred to was a large pool of water that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"Does this go somewhere or are we supposed to hold our breaths until Bishop disappears?" Mikey asked.
"It will take us into another set of tunnels, deeper down," Leatherhead answered. "They may not be wholly stable, but it is better than taking our chances with Bishop."
"Lead the way big guy," Mikey said.
Leatherhead stepped into the water, walked out a couple of feet, and then dove beneath its glassy surface. Don followed close behind him, with Mikey bringing up the rear.
The water was dark. As reptiles, all three of the swimmers had excellent eyesight, but Leatherhead's underwater vision seemed even more enhanced. To keep from getting separated, Don and Mikey both took hold of Leatherhead's belt.
It wasn't long before they surfaced again and stepped out of the water into a pitch black tunnel. Don reached into his belt and took out a couple of light sticks, popping them against his arm to activate them. Handing one to Mikey, he held his out in order to survey their hiding place.
The area dated back to a bygone era and was more a cavern than a part of the tunnel system. The ceiling sloped downwards and the walls were seriously compromised, with quite a number of the wooden support beams broken. A few yards past the water the cavern ended in a dirt and rock obstruction that was unpassable.
"How long do you think we'll have to wait here?" Mikey asked in a small voice.
"A while," Don said. "Bishop doesn't give up easily. At least we were too far from the lair for him to be hunting anywhere near it."
"Small favors," Mikey said.
Don noticed that Leatherhead was shivering and realized that he too was cold. "We need to build a fire. Let's pull some of that wood into a pile. Try to find some small fragments that will catch fire easily. It's damp in here."
The three of them soon had wood stacked in the center of the cavern. Reaching into his belt, Don produced a sealed plastic tube holding several matches and folded paper. Striking a match, he lit the paper and set it on some wood splinters, blowing gently on them until they caught fire.
They soon had a cheery blaze going and sat down close to it. "Feeling better, big guy?" Don asked Leatherhead.
"Much. I am very happy you are so well prepared," Leatherhead replied.
"Wish I'd have been better prepared for Bishop," Don said.
"One cannot anticipate what that evil man will do," Leatherhead said. "All one can do is adjust to each changing situation and hope for the best."
"You were the best today, LH. The way you took down Bishop's storm troopers was awesome," Mikey said.
"I am not fond of injuring other living things, but it is often necessary," Leatherhead said. "Life for me has had many challenges since my Utrom family left this world. I do not know how I would have survived without you, my friends."
"Aww heck LH, we're not friends, we're family," Mikey said. "Never forget that."
"He's right Leatherhead," Don said in agreement. "We all think of you as family."
"Family," Leatherhead said. "It is a good thing."
They grew quiet then as they contemplated the fire and listened for any sounds from the water that might signal the approach of their enemies. After a while they grew sleepy; first Mikey dozing off, then Don.
Leatherhead curled himself around the turtles, adjusting them so that they were cushioned against his body. As close as he was to all of them, Leatherhead had always felt a particular kinship with these two brothers.
Knowing that any change in the vibrations within the cavern or sounds from the water would wake him, Leatherhead fell asleep.
Hours later the fire had dwindled and the three mutant reptiles woke. Checking his watch, Don deemed it time to return to the upper tunnels so they could find out if Bishop and his men had given up their search.
Another trip through the cold water was accomplished and the three of them then retraced their steps. All was quiet.
"Let me try my shell cell," Don said. His call went through immediately and was answered by an extremely worried Leonardo.
After assuring his brother that they were safe and would be home shortly, Don turned to Leatherhead. "Come back to the lair with us and have dinner. Leo said no one has been near our place and we can use the security monitors there to make sure they haven't been near yours either."
When Leatherhead hesitated, Mikey said, "Please LH? We've missed you a lot. Come back and visit, maybe even stay awhile. It'd make us happy."
Leatherhead looked from one to the other, experiencing a great warmth in his heart at the knowledge that they desired his company. It had been a very long time since he'd had that feeling. The feeling that only family could give.
"I accept your offer of hospitality," Leatherhead said. "Spending more time with you would make me happy as well."
The pair of brothers began talking at the same time, telling Leatherhead of all the things they wanted to share with him. Leatherhead walked beside them, a wide and happy smile on his face.
End