A/N: Who says Splinter's old? Not this little Author! :)
Chapter 7 ~Surveillance~
Splinter paced across the Lair with a sense of purpose. He could hear the faint rustle of leather against tatami mats as Leonardo stretched in the dojo, running through a few last-minute exercises before he headed topside for the nightly patrol. Raphael was coming out of his room, as at ease and contented as a cat who'd recently had fresh cream.
Ann's day in court must have gone well, thought Splinter with satisfaction. He was nearly as proud of his brilliant daughter-in-law as he was of his own genius son. The woman seemed a good match for Raphael, even if Splinter would not have guessed the two of them would be compatible.
Donatello and Michelangelo came out of the lab as Splinter entered the main room of the Lair, conversing quietly, as thick as thieves. Splinter felt a prickle of unease. When the boys were small, they occasionally conspired in mischief together. Some of his most memorable moments as a father came about from Donatello and Michelangelo's antics. The pair was unmatched in the creation of chaos.
"My sons. Do you not plan to wait for your brothers?" Splinter asked mildly. His two youngest sons turned to face him, varying degrees of alarm and embarrassment showing clearly in the gazes that met his own.
"Hey, Sensei." Michelangelo gave him a little wave.
"Good evening, Master." Donatello was more formal. He shifted, adjusting the strap of the duffle bag already slung over his shell. "We, that is, Mikey and I… we're going out together tonight. I have some… surveillance to complete, and Mike's going to give me a hand."
Splinter nodded, accepting his son's explanation, but there was something Donatello wasn't telling him, he could sense it.
What are you up to, my sons?
He resolved not to press the matter for now. His sons were no longer teenagers. If they were hiding something, it was for a good reason and would reveal itself soon enough.
"I intend to accompany you boys on your patrol tonight," said Splinter calmly, watching for a reaction from his two youngest. There was a flash in Michelangelo's blue eyes that might have been dismay, but the Turtle covered it well.
"Sure, Sensei," said Michelangelo easily, earning him a dark look from his brother. "But Donny's stuff is real boring, ya know? You sure you're up for all this techno-stuff?"
Marriage has at last taught you the skill of misdirection, thought Splinter. He hid an amused smile.
"Perhaps I will accompany your brothers tonight," he said carefully.
He could almost feel the relief radiating off Donatello.
"That's great, Sensei. It would be good for you to get out. Just don't overexert yourself," said Don.
Splinter bristled slightly, and his son flushed.
"Uh, I umm… I mean… it's a warm night," Donatello faltered. "Too much exercise…"
"Oh, Donny, look at the time," Michelangelo piped up, interrupting Donatello's stammered explanation. "We'd better get going."
"What? Oh! Yeah, we'd better. Have a good night, Sensei." Don bowed hastily.
"May the fates be kind to you as well, my sons," said Splinter a bit stiffly.
Michelangelo and Donatello beat a hasty retreat out of the Lair. Splinter's whiskers twitched with annoyance as he heard Michelangelo's guffaw echo off the walls of the elevator before the stone doors could slide completely closed.
Perhaps it is time I rejoined the morning trainings, thought Splinter. The boys are old enough now to not require my presence, but they have perhaps forgotten that there is life in this old Rat's body still. Hmm, yes, it would be good for Donatello to spar with me as we did when my sons were younger, to test the mettle of his training and reassure him that his father has not yet lost his skill.
"Good evening, Sensei." Leonardo's quiet greeting broke into Splinter's train of thought. He turned with a smile.
"Hello, my son. Are you prepared to go out?"
"Hai, Sensei." Leonardo smiled. "Austin is working again this evening, so Sierra offered to take care of Skylar. Beverly will be home as well. Ann is planning an early night. This court case has kept her up late so often recently, she needs the sleep."
"Very well, my son."
"Are you ready to go, Father?"
Splinter nodded, and Leonardo smiled.
"Good. Raph and I were talking earlier. We'd like to revisit the warehouse, snoop around a bit, and see if the Foot left any clues as to what they might've been up to."
"Ya ready ta go, Fearless?" Raphael strode into the main room. His shoulder muscles rippled, bunching under his skin. His feral grin radiated anticipation. "I'm itchin' ta bust some heads."
"Easy, Raph," said Leo, but he was smiling. "It's just a reconnaissance mission, remember?"
"Whatevah. Jus' show me da goons, Leo. I'll take care o' da rest." Raphael's grin widened. "So yer really comin' wit' us, Father?"
"Yes, my son." Splinter's grin mirrored Raphael's. "I need the exercise."
Leonardo looked from one to the other, his eyes widening slightly behind his mask. "Am I going to have to separate you two?" he mocked.
Splinter gave him the look that deserved, and Raphael chuckled.
"Come on, Fearless. Ya've gotta admit we haven't seen a lot of action lately. It's time we showed Sensei a good time. You heard him, he needs the exercise."
"Ok, ok." Leonardo held up his hands in mock defeat. "Tell you what. We'll recon the warehouse, and then, if we have time, we'll patrol a little further into PD territory, ok? We're not looking for a fight," he gave his brother a meaningful look. "But maybe there will be some activity that needs… looking into. Fair enough?"
Raphael's smirk grew. "Sounds good ta me."
Splinter nodded. "Lead the way, my son."
He followed his two sons as they moved, silent as shadows, out of the warehouse and onto the rooftop. The moon peered weakly through the clouds at the three wraiths making their swift way across the gravel roofs, leaping over obstacles like children let loose on a playground.
First Raphael would get ahead, then Leonardo would gain ground on his brother, passing him with a graceful flip, but Splinter noticed how they kept him between themselves. He admired their subtlety grudgingly. They weren't overtly protecting him, but he could feel their eyes on him nonetheless as they raced across the rooftops, watching to be sure he landed safely from his own leaps, and making sure he was keeping up with their speed.
Splinter was sorely tempted to disappear into the night, to turn the tables on his protective sons and make a game of stalking them, as he often had when they were in their late teens, to hone their skills and keep them alert, but he refrained. Leonardo's mission was the top priority… for now.
"That next building, that's where they were," said Leonardo softly, coming along side his father. They came to a halt at the building's ledge, kneeling behind it. Splinter breathed deeply of the night air. His senses were more alert than they'd been in a long time, his awareness felt sharper, stimulated by the sights, sounds, and dangers of the world above their peaceful home.
"I'd like to get inside," said Leonardo, keeping his voice just above a whisper. Raphael knelt casually on Splinter's other side. His amber eyes were glued to the building.
"There's a window, Fearless, in the upper east corner. We can climb in from da roof, no problems."
"Let's be sure the place isn't occupied first, Raph," said Leonardo grimly.
"Leonardo, it would be possible for me to access the small vent on the roof, there," said Splinter, pointing. "I would be able to sense the presence of any humans within."
Leo glanced at his father, startled.
"Do you think that's a good idea, Sensei? I think we should stick together…"
"Relax, Fearless," growled Raphael, irritated. "It ain't like we're gonna storm da place. Geez."
Leonardo flushed, glancing at Splinter. "I just thought…"
"There is vigor in this old body yet, my son," said Splinter dryly.
"Hai, Sensei."
Splinter didn't wait for further instructions. He set off along the inside of the ledge toward the corner of the building, his claws silent on the tarpaper roof. He was tempted to walk along the top of the ledge itself, a feat he could perform easily, but decided it would be merely showing off. Reaching his destination, he pulled a small grapple gun from under his cloak.
One of Donatello's more ingenious devices, it was light enough to be concealed upon his person, and yet powerful enough to serve the purpose. Taking careful aim, Splinter shot the small hook across the space, being sure to secure the thin cable before testing his weight. Without so much as a glance toward his sons who were making their own way across the space by use of the fire escape and alley, he ran nimbly across, landing without a sound on the roof of the warehouse.
He heard the faintest of sounds, indicating his sons were ascending the ladder to the building he was currently on. Confident they could handle the climb to the window Raphael had pointed out, he headed for the vent.
Nothing moved as Splinter removed the vent hood, peering down through the unmoving blades of a large fan. He could just make out shapes in the semi-dark, large crates draped with tarps, making their outlines blur. He smelled no human presence. Nothing so much as stirred. The warehouse was empty.
Splinter frowned. Something… He sniffed. There was something… familiar, about the faint, sharp scent wafting up to him. Cautiously, he replaced the vent cover and made his way to the edge of the building. He dropped down so silently onto the fire escape where Raphael and Leonardo waited, he actually heard Leonardo draw a sharp breath.
Stifling a chuckle, Splinter motioned with one hand. "It is empty," he said. "No humans inhabit this place."
"Are you sure, Sensei?" Leonardo's brow creased. "Only two nights ago the place was crawling with Foot…"
Do you doubt me, my son? Splinter stifled his irritation. "No one is here now."
"All right." Leonardo nodded. "Let's move in."
Raphael was at the window, climbing through, before Leo had finished speaking. Splinter saw Leonardo shake his head at his brother's impulsiveness, but he moved forward, right behind his son. The need for action, for a challenge, was making it difficult to contain himself. He took a deep, steadying breath, centering himself again. It would never do to rush into a mission like a half-trained genin.
"You comin', Master? We can climb down dis pipe."
The way Raphael looked at him when he grasped the pipe made the statement not quite a question. Splinter smiled, nodding. Raphael shot him a grin and slid down the pipe, stopping at the bottom to see that the Rat could actually scurry down. Splinter managed the minor obstacle without difficulty. He moved into the room, sniffing cautiously, every sense on alert.
Dust… oil… diesel fuel…
"Trucks have been used here recently," he murmured.
"Yes, Father," said Leonardo, landing lightly. "We saw them loading equipment."
Splinter nodded, ignoring the slightly patronizing tone. "Many men," he said, moving toward a shrouded crate. He touched the tarp, finding it free of dust. "But what were they moving?"
"I dunno, Sensei, but they sure seem ta have a lot of paper," growled Raphael. He was leaning over a crate, the pried-off lid set aside. "Leo, ya evah see paper like dis?" The red-banded Turtle held up a sheet of paper, rubbing it between his fingers. "Almos' feels like cloth."
Leonardo shook his head. "Take it. Maybe Don can find out something."
"We're takin' a piece o' paper?" Raphael snorted, but he tucked a folded sheet into his belt. "Whatevah."
Splinter sniffed, moving cautiously among the crates. If he was any judge of scent, most of the crates held the odd paper Raphael had found. He detected the light smell of a finer machine oil, and caught another whiff of that strangely familiar, sharp, metallic scent.
Ink! It came to him in the same instant as Leonardo's sharp hiss.
"Someone's coming."
In an instant, there was no sign that three ninjas occupied the space. Splinter crouched in a black corner beside one of the crates. He could sense his sons not far away, each having chosen a crevice among the stacked boxes, easily defensible and allowing themselves a quick escape route. Splinter smiled grimly in the dark. Pride for his son's training and skill rose up in him, warming his chest, even as the warehouse door swung open and a flashlight beam cut through the room.
"I don't see anything," a voice hissed. "Probably just a pigeon setting off the roof alarm again."
"I'm telling you, that vent was loose," growled a second voice. "If anything else goes wrong this week, Mistress Karai will have our heads."
"And I'm telling you there's nothing there," responded the first voice firmly. "Those Turtles haven't come near this operation. Anyway, they might be watching. You know how they are. If they see us guarding this place too heavily, they'll know something's up, and they'll interfere just for the sake of disrupting Karai's plans. Trust me. No one's here, and we'd better make ourselves scarce before we draw attention to this place."
"I guess you're right. Let's get out of here."
The door slid closed. Small movement at his side had Splinter turning. The roof was rigged with an alarm. It never occurred to me. I should have considered the possibility, he thought
Leonardo's voice was tight. "I think we've found all we can for tonight."
"Yes, my son," said Splinter quietly.
No one referred to his setting off the alarm. One by one, they climbed back up the pipe, slipping out of the window, and disappearing into the night.
