Turtlefreak121: I suppose this is the point that you would like to have an explanation as to why I quit writing a fanfiction with only three chapters left. I couldn't really tell you anything besides this: I don't know. But I'm back and determined to get this story off of my incompleted list. I mean, come on – THREE chapters.
Thanks to everyone who has read this story to this point! I apologize to you for the lack of updates and … activity in general.
A Dog's Best Friend
Chapter Ten
By Turtlefreak121
Disclaimer: The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are (c) of Mirage Studios was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT-2003 is (c) to 4Kids entertainment. Road Rovers is (c) of Kids WB and was created by Tom Ruegger. "A Dog's Best Friend" is a fan-created story (c) of Turtlefreak121. The storyline, though none of the characters, is also (c) of Turtlefreak121. Plagiarism will not be tolerated in the least. Thank you for your time.
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Espionage
Fortunately for the group of two animalistic beings the air ducts they were venturing through were gratefully large, allowing them to carry themselves on their elbows and knees rather than slithering on their stomachs as they had at the beginning of the voyage. Be that as it may, the space continued to be compact and the view, at least for Michelangelo, was far from fetching.
"Dude!" Mike grumbled as Blitz stopped short yet again, nearly causing the ordinarily agile ninja to nearly collide with his rear again. "I appreciate the offer but I'm just not THAT into you!"
"Heeeey!" the thick German accent retorted before looking over his shoulder, somehow maneuvering enough to not rub his long snout against the cold metal. "None of the flattering of yourself, ja? I just don't like the shaky up here."
With the verbal reminder coming from his own mouth, Blitz looked back down to where his shuddering arms and knees were pressed against the flimsy material.
One thing was for sure: the air duct was not the safest way for them to be traveling. This was particularly true since they were in hostile territory with little way of knowing what awaited them below if their conditioned sanctuary happened to cave in on them. The possibilities were endless, but to Blitz they all centered around death and dying. Both of which he felt were very bad.
Blitz let out a cry. "Ah ah ahah ah," he moped. "I do not like a being in the front. I feel like falling through the floor and into a bunch of sharp-toothed fishies will happen."
Mike scratched his head in confusion. "You mean parahhna?" he questioned.
"Ja," the Rover moped. "It can be the happening."
As he first accepted the thought, Michelangelo's own face dropped and he slowly looked down to the flimsy metal beneath him. He then noted that not only had his brothers and himself done this very type of espionage a dozen times before but they had done so without any of the trouble - especially from 'sharp-toothed fishies.' Not to mention, it was unlikely that Bishop constructed his base from anything but the very finest material.
He doubted hightly they would fall. Yet he grinned for Blitz was not aware of these facts.
"What's the matter, Blitz?" Mike chuckled before rocking his body back and forth against the walls of the duct, sending tremors through its metal surfaces. He grinned knowingly at the creeks and metallic snares. It was no big deal, just movement.
Blitz, once more, was not aware of these facts.
The Doberman let out a scream and cried out before curling up into himself, hugging his arms tightly and shaking his head. He trembled like a frightened rabbit in the midst of wolves. Mike could not help but laugh.
"Palease!" he moaned. "A stop with the shaking! You'll get us killed!"
"Will I?" Mike questioned devilishly before leaning against the left wall.
The simple movement caused the Road Rover to cry out before scooting forward as fast as he could, his scream echoing through the hollow chambers, reverberating in a solid, meshed sound of German curses against Mike's name.
The turtle only laughed gleefully at the reaction before he paused to think. Blinking, the turtle sobered himself up before rushing after Blitz. "SHH!" he warned his newfound friend. "You gotta stay quiet - remember? Stealthy? Ninja-like?"
"Nie!" Blitz snarled in return as he at last stopped and looked back at Michelangelo. "You stop and I would be quiet." The Rover paused and recalled his image he needed to uphold. He huffed and upturned his nose. "I was only doing so to scare you! I was not a being scared at your joking. Only ahg-ravated."
Mike chuckled. "Yeah, sure, that's why you grabbed the floor so hard your claws ripped through."
"Eh?" Blitz questioned before looking down to realize that his razor sharp claws had in fact torn through the metal air duct in fright. He moaned within himself before looking to Michelangelo with a snort. "I wuss a spying. Like ninja, ja?"
Mike laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure!"
Suddenly, Blitz blinked and straightened himself, his ears perked as he realized that he was recognizing the voice approaching them from below. "A moment," he said lowly to Michelangelo before slowly moving forward to the turn in the air duct. He turned back, able now to face the holes the same as Mike.
The turtle blinked in return. "What are you doing?" he questioned.
"Shaahhh," Blitz responded, placing a finger against his lips in order to reinforce the command. He pointed down to the hole as approaching people were becoming visible. "I ah know the voice - and the smell. Ah ahah," he shuddered. "I know Groomer's smell ah-neywhere."
"Groomer?" Mike whispered before looking down through the holes.
The ninja's brow furrowed as he watched the red spandex-wearing femme fatale be led by the soldiers on each side. She was still dressing herself in her usual adornments, placing on a strange, metal helmet on her head and pulling her long, leather gloves over her hands again.
"Now we meet Parvo again," this Groomer said almost gleefully. "He will be very glad to hear I have been already released."
The annoyed soldiers never gave her so much as a sideways glance. Fortunately for Groomer, it did not seem to affect her all that negatively.
She grinned through her thin lips once more. "And I shall finish the new Transdogmifir for Parvo and with that not even the Rovers can stop us."
Mike hardened his expression. "Trans-what?"
"Ah! No!" Blitz whined before looking to Mike. "This be very bad. The Master's Transdogmifir is a how the Rovers are made! Parvo have it and he can make monster-Rovers! Very bad!" he explained.
"That is bad!" Mike gasped. He narrowed his eyes. "Especially if I know Bishop!"
"Well let's be ah-going!" Blitz decreed before turning about on his knees, giving Mike little time to back away.
"Dude!" Mike growled. "I agree but watch the butt!"
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The white coats were unobservant at the most as they looked at their mainframes with dulled, boredom filled eyes and unimpressed facades. It was hardly worth consideration that the base was on a small, precautionary Level One lockdown. They were in the middle of the deepest layer of the base.
The thought that anyone could arrive unannounced the vital area such as the Mother Computer was nowhere near the minds of the otherwise brilliant men.
With a yawn, the red-head stretched before rubbing his lower back and turning to his partner. He sniffed slightly, seeing the other was lazily typing away as he had been moments ago, and knew at that moment that it was time for a much needed break.
"Archie," he muttered, "Let's get out of here for a second before I see decoders and DNA translations in my sleep. I already see them when I close my eyes!"
"You think it will be okay?" the one named Archie responded before pulling his vision from his screen. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes roughly before returning the optical devices and sighed.
"Of course it will be okay," the other retorted before getting up. "No one is going to get in here and mess with our programs."
"I could use the break," Archie admitted as he got up as well and began walking alongside his coworker. He slowly seemed more and more uplifted with the idea of getting out of their small, cubicle-like lab - away from those computers for just a few minutes!
"That's the spirit!" the first replied as he headed out the door, Archie following close behind. The automatic doors closed.
"They has left, Comrade!" Exile huffed from the air duct before using his heat vision to burn through the large vent's melding. After only a few minutes, a melding job which no doubt took at least half an hour to accomplish had failed and the bars of the vent covering struck the floor harshly.
With little hesitance, Exile slipped through the newly opened vent and landed on his feet.
He shook himself thoroughly, relieving himself of the dusty covering on his fur. With a smile, the generally content husky looked to the air duct confidently and placed his hands on his belt.
"You be needing my help, chair-eh-pa-hka?" he asked only for Donatello to expertly slide through the opening and land on his feet with much more practice and grace than the large, anthromorphic hound could ever dream of doing.
"No, I'm good," Don assured his newfound friend before raising an eye ridge. "What did you call me by the way?"
"черепаха?" Exile questioned in his thick accent before laughing. "Calm, calm, Comrade. I called you 'turtle,' but in my own native tongue of Russian. See? Chair-eh-pa-hka."
Don grinned as he skewed his expression at the information. "Ah, okay. Got ya... I think," he said before walking over to the computers. "Let's get to work, shall we?"
"Ah, yes!" Exile grinned as he neared his favorite human technology. "I am much excited to be subrogating these technologies!"
Looking over his shoulder, Don had to examine the Rover to be sure that the creature was not putting him on. He laughed slightly upon realizing that Exile would be incapable of such joking. "You mean sabotaging?" he asked. "Yeah, I think the first thing we need to do is turn off the alarms so no one gets caught as they move through the base."
"Very good plan, Donatello!" Exile stated before looking at his own screen and, surprisingly enough, expertly typing away, hacking the abandoned programs. He grew a scowl. "Make this very bad plan, my friend," he said regretfully.
"What?" Don asked in surprise before looking to Exile. "Why?"
Exile moved to allow the ninja a better look at the screen - live video feed to another part of the base where Parvo and a select group of Bishop's men walked a captured Colleen, Leonardo, and Muzzle toward the interrogation halls.
"Because may be too late," Exile said lowly before growling at Parvo. "That man is very bad man. Very bad man. I do not want him hurting my teammates, Donatello, or your brother."
"He won't," Don stated before quickly typing, locking up the system and placing all alarms on silent in an instant. "These are the Mother Computers. We'll mess things up real quick and then head straight to where they're taking them."
"This plan I like," Exile nodded. The dog rubbed his chin and glanced at the screen, his face hardened. "This document here," he muttered before clicking upon the material. "It is suspicious, no?" Clicking away, he pulled up a spread sheet-format filled with genetic codes. "And what would this be?"
Don blinked and folded his arms in thought. "This looks like a format full of genetic information. It looks like it has to do with that transdogmifir you guys keep talking about, too," he looked at the last column. "And that looks like a reversing agent!"
Exile nodded before looking toward the counters - a computer controlled chemical mixer was fortunately in the lab. "I feel as though my instincts are telling me to make some, Donatello," he explained before clicking around for program controls. "May be very useful in future knowing Parvo."
"Good plan, comrade!" Don grinned before moving toward the mixer. "And it looks like Bishop was having some made anyway... he must not trust Parvo as much as we thought."
"Smart man," Exile nodded.
Don frowned before obtaining the cure and bottling it in a nearby flask. "Yeah, too smart," he muttered before handing the flask to Exile. "I hope you have a good idea for how to use this."
Exile smirked and pocketed the flask. "A Rover is always prepared, Donatello. Always."
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Raphael growled as he pressed against the shadow masked corner yet again. He narrowed his eyes and waited for the footsteps of the patrolling guards to disappear before releasing an irritated breath. His gaze thinly lifted itself to the cowering, whimpering sheep dog beside him.
"Out of the five of you I could get paired up with," he snorted, "I get stuck with the giant scardy-cat!"
Shagg whimpered until he heard the final insult and turned to Raphael, his teeth bore as he growled. He shook his head and looked around wildly.
Realizing his mistake, Raph shook his head. "There isn't really a cat, Sherlock!" he mocked before moving forward enough to get a good look around the hall. After a few moments he furrowed his brow in concentration. He was sure after that: the coast was clear.
"C'mon, Biggun," he waved his arm before stealthily making his way through the hall. He hushed his voice further as he heard the whimpering giant step sheepishly around the hall. "Big Ol' Raph will keep you safe!"
Shagg continued his whine but lowered himself, almost doubling over as he attempted to follow Raph's example of "guerilla warfare." It did not work well for the large Road Rover, however, and he screeched slightly as Raph turned around sharply on his heels and huffed at the dog.
"Quiet!" Raph warned. "Ninja, remember?"
Shagg cried before nodding his head.
The turtle shook his head irritably and they moved onward before reaching a cell door. Raphael approached cautiously before gathering a good look at the sign on the door - clearly labeled "Hostage Interrogation."
He frowned and blinked. "This... is not Bishop's doing," Raph muttered. He looked to Shagg and raised an eye ridge. "Your guy do stuff like this?"
Shag nodded. "Arg yaaah ba."
"I'll take that as a yes," Raph retorted before very carefully turning the handle. He looked into the dark room before his eyes locked on the Commander in Chief himself, tied to his chair with easily cut rope. The turtle smirked. "Jackpot."
"Aruu?"
"Never mind," Raph growled before entering carefully, quietly. He only hoped that Don and Exile had done their job and that no unexpected alarms would go off during this exertion. He approached the president as quickly as he could. "Mr. President?"
Looking up from his stooper, the president widened his eyes and let out a yell as he instantly recognized Raph's features from an encounter months earlier. He shook his head in absolute terror at the "alien" before him.
"No! No!" he cried. "Not you all again! I just want my dog back - just my dog, I swear!"
At that instant, Shagg at last felt it was time to reveal himself from the shadows and cock his own head at the president's reaction. The big Rover scratched his head.
Confusedly, the president's face wrinkled at the brow and he blinked at Shagg. "You... You mean that the Road Rovers are in with the aliens?" he asked skeptically. "Surely Bishop wasn't right!"
Raphael growled. He supposed the only reason that no one found the Rovers strange was because they were cute and fuzzy.
"Bishop ain't right on a lot o' stuff," Raphael corrected the President as he pulled out a Sai. "And the 'aliens' are just helping the Rovers free ya and yar pooch, Mr. President. Promise."
The executive head nodded as he watched Raph with the utmost scrutiny. "Be-Be careful not to cut anything beside the rope with that thing!"
Raph laughed. "Consider me an expert."
At that moment, Shagg straightened and held a hand to his ear. After a few moments he began bouncing up and down as long, near-barks emerged from his strangely high-pitched throat. His song and dance quickly captured the others' attention.
Not expecting anything but a false alarm, Raph growled. "What?"
"Rafggg!" the dog explained just as the sounds of the door opening became apparent.
Raphael's eyes widened and suddenly cutting the president loose did not seem all that important. He looked to Shagg who immediately hid in a far off corner and decided that this was a fairly good idea as far as plans from dogs could go.
"Sorry, Mr. President," Raph apologized before taking off after Shagg, only to find that the dog took up the entire space in the cubby hole.
Snarling, Raph pointed at the dog. "Make room!"
With a cry, Shag reached forward and grabbed Raph, surprising the turtle.
"Hey now!" Raph exclaimed before he was shoved into the sea of snowy, Old English Shepherd fur. He gasped as he realized that it was almost as if he was completely submersed in a thick, viscous mud. He protested only to have fur enter his mouth and his stomach churn with disgust at the instance.
After some awkward adjustments, however, Raph faced toward the "surface" of the current muck he was in and looked through the fine, thin hairs of Shagg's fur to the events unfolding outside the cubby. He could have been knocked over with a feather at the sight of his own brother and the feisty Colleen captured by Parvo and Bishop's men.
"Why did we let them get us again?" Colleen asked, somewhat irritated at the loss.
Leo whispered in reply, "Because they've taken us to the President and Hunter now."
Colleen's eyes glanced about and she frowned. "I don't see Huna'," she said remorsefully.
Parvo stood before the group and laughed as the world renowned terrorist saw the complete hopelessness of their situation. And all of it caused by him! He had never been so proud before in his lifetime!
"So," the man laughed as he walked about, ignoring the horrific growls coming from the restrained Muzzle. "I see that you are all here and ready to discover what it is that I am doin for this particular deed, right?"
Leo protectively grabbed the pulley of Muzzle's restraints and kept him away from the international villain. His stoic face rather unhappy with the situation.
"Yes," he answered lowly.
"I'd say!" Colleen added roughly.
"Please, Parvo!" the president pleaded. "I'll give you what you want - just let my dog and me go!"
The muscle bound mutate laughed until he was forced to cough into his balled fist, hacking a lung it almost seemed. He composed himself before turning back gleefully. His devilish grin sent shivers through the group.
"You won't be going anywhere, Mr. President," he explained lowly. "None of you will. And you will especially not be going with your dog. Isn't that right, Groomer?"
At that moment, the doors opened yet again and the spandex wearing assistant entered, kicking a large carrier with the mongrel inside it, whining with each jar.
"Hunter!" they all exclaimed.
The President looked to the others, bewildered.
"You know my dog?"
"You will not be knowing him for long," Groomer laughed before walking toward the newly lighted machine on the other side of the room. The large tube-like extension opened and she grinned as she shoved in Hunter's cage, opening the carrier right before shutting the door.
Parvo chuckled as Groomer began the machine. "This is my version of a little machine called the Transdogmifir... Prepare to meet a real super Rover!"
The machine quaked as a horrible snarl was released, hardly canned by the machine itself.
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Turtlefreak121: At least it won't be two years before the next update!