Thank you, thank you, thank you to all who reviewed! There were a lot of new names. I was starting to think this story was losing interest, but your kind reviews really encouraged me. I tried my hardest to get this up within the week for you all, but, well, that didn't happen. So, I made it extra-long to make up for it. Enjoy!
There was something in the air tonight.
A sense of anticipation swept through Blade, causing his body to tense and his heart to accelerate. It was more than just the joy of finally being free from the warehouse, or the excitement of knowing he was about to do something dangerous. This feeling was different. He couldn't quite place it, but it was something akin to expectation. It was almost as though he could sense that something was about to happen…something big…and he couldn't make up his mind whether he should be nervous or excited.
The warehouse Viz had taken him to was farther than any of the others they had previously hit, past 16th street and into a district that was both fancier and busier. Even this late at night a few lights could be seen shining from neighboring windows and an occasional car still drove past on the nearby street. As for the warehouse itself, the fence was a little taller, the locks a little thicker, and the security system a lot more high tech. All these things combined meant they would have to be twice as careful in order to avoid detection.
Blade wasn't quite sure why Alpha had chosen this particular warehouse when there were several far easier targets closer to their hideout, but he wasn't in a place to question the pack leader. He was just grateful he was being allowed to join the raid in the first place. The warehouses' security presented a challenge, and Blade took pride in the knowledge that no else within the gang had the talent and skill to successfully bypass it. He was being given a chance to prove his usefulness to the pack, and he was determined not to disappoint.
"Are you ready?" Viz asked softly from beside him.
Blade ran his gaze one final time over the warehouse before turning to his friend, a self-confident grin turning up the corners of his mouth. "Yep," he replied easily. "Give me ten minutes…fifteen tops."
Viz nodded, but reached out one hand to stop Blade as he started to rise and move away. "Hold on a moment," he murmured.
Blade obediently dropped back down, eyeing his friend questioningly. "What is it?" he asked, watching as Viz shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze.
"There's one more thing Alpha wishes for you to do," Viz stated simply, not quite meeting Blade's eyes as he reached behind the nearby air-conditioning unit and pulled out a simple black bag.
"Okay." Blade eyed the bag curiously before glancing up at his friend's strangely solemn face. "What is it, Viz?"
Instead of answering, Viz merely drew the bag closer and reached for the zipper. Undoing the side, he reached into the bag and pulled out a small object wrapped in black cloth. Blade watched in curiosity as his friend carefully unwrapped the object, his movements slow and precise. As the last of the cloth fell away, Blade jerked back, unable to hold back his gasp of surprise, immediately recognizing what the gray wolf was holding in his hands.
It was a bomb.
Small and simply made, it was nonetheless impossible to mistake. It was even fitted with a small red timer that boldly displayed twenty minutes.
Blade's gaze snapped up to meet that of his friend's, his breath quickening and his eyes widening in shock. "What the hell, Viz?" he gasped, his eyes returning to the small device with growing alarm.
"Don't worry, it won't go off," Viz assured him lightly. "You have to arm it first. To do that, you simply connect this red wire to the junction point here at the top. As you can see, once it's set, you'll have twenty minutes to clear the area. It may be small, but I'm told it packs quite the punch, so it will probably be best if we are well gone by then."
Blade shook his head in disbelief, watching in consternation as his friend casually re-wrapped the bomb and replaced it in the bag.
"I thought we were here to rob the place, not blow it up." His voice was strained and he made no effort to hide it. Any eagerness he had once felt for this raid had just slipped away like smoke up a chimney.
Viz glanced over at him, a wry smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "Actually we're going to do both," he answered evenly. "After you get us in, the boys and I will load up the van while you set the bomb."
"Why?" Blade asked numbly, staring down at the backpack and the now hidden bomb it held. This made no sense. As far as he knew, the gang had never done anything like this before. Why here? Why now?...Why him? "Is this some kind of test?"
Viz shook his head, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight as he stared down at Blade. "This has nothing to do with you," he assured softly before turning his gaze to the warehouse sitting silent across the moonlit street. "This one's personal for Alpha."
Blade waited for more, but Viz remained silent, his gaze locked on the warehouse. There was something distant and sad about his posture, and Blade felt his stomach churn in apprehension.
"You're going to have to do better than that, Viz," he stated softly, sinking down into a low crouch and watching his friend closely. "You're asking me to blow up a building here."
Viz's gaze flicked sideway to him, and the gray wolf let out a low sigh. "You wouldn't understand," he murmured softly.
Blade shook his head, crossing his arms and leveling his friend with a determined stare. "Try me," he challenged softly.
Viz stared at him for a few moments before giving in with a small shrug. When he spoke his voice held a note of bitterness that Blade had never heard before. "We were soldiers once, Alpha and I," he began simply. "We served together overseas for three years. You want to know the funny thing about soldiers, kid? When they're gone fighting to protect the country, everybody loves them. They get letters from kindergartners and boxes of chocolates from complete strangers. But then, when they come back home, suddenly they're just not important anymore…just another bum on the street."
Blade stared at his friend in surprise, not quite sure what to say in response. In the several months he had known the gray wolf, Viz had never really talked much about his past. Blade had known he and Alpha had been friends for a long time, just as he had known they were homeless when Stockman had kidnapped them, but that was the extent of it. He had never asked for more information, not wanting to pry, and Viz had never spoken of it before now.
"Alpha and I were in the same company together." Viz continued, his eyes going distant as he got caught up in old memories. "He was my commanding officer. That's where he got the name Alpha…it was his call sign. I got my name then as well. My full name is Victor Zinfrano, but everyone just started calling me Viz for short. We were a pretty tight group." He let out a long sigh, pausing for long enough that Blade began to wonder if he was going to continue.
"The life of a soldier isn't easy, but I still liked it," he finally stated quietly. "It wasn't until I came back home that I had any problems. My parents had died when I was in high school, and I didn't have any other close family to come home to. I was kinda lost and confused, and I didn't adjust all that well. I couldn't seem to hold a job, which I guess is how I ended up on the streets. That's where Alpha found me. I thought I had it pretty bad, but what he went through was so much worse."
Again Viz paused, collecting his thoughts, and Blade waited patiently for him to continue, unable to deny the curiosity filling him. Somehow the knowledge that Viz and Alpha had once been soldiers was at once both fitting and surprising. The way that Alpha ran the wolf gang spoke clearly of his experience leading men, and yet at the same time he didn't strike Blade as the patriotic type. Viz…perhaps, but Alpha?
Viz continued with his tale, his voice still carrying that underlying tone of bitterness. "Alpha wasn't like me. He had a wife and a successful business to return to. He was actually looking forward to coming home." Alpha let out a soft grunt, his gaze flickering briefly to meet Blades, his expression sad. "Unfortunately, when he got back he found out his wife had run off with another man, but not until after she had maxed out all the credit cards, leaving him with massive debt. At the same time, his business partner of fifteen years stabbed him in the back, hiring a big-time lawyer and finding a way to write him out of the partnership. Alpha was devastated. He tried to fight back in the courts, but…" Viz trailed off, shaking his head. "Long story short, he ended up losing everything…his home, his job, even his damn dog. That shouldn't happen to any man…least of all someone who has already sacrificed so much."
Blade had nothing to say to that. Perhaps it was because he had only known Alpha after he had been mutated, but he found it difficult to imagine anyone daring to push him around like that. Alpha was strong and powerful. It was hard to believe that perhaps there was a time when he was not...a time when he was simply lost and defeated.
"Anyway," Viz continued, his gaze still locked somewhere distant. "That warehouse is owned by Alpha's old business partner. Like I said…this one is personal."
Blade let out a long sigh, reaching up to massage his temples. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt about all this. What had happened to Alpha was horrible and wrong, but he didn't see how blowing up the warehouse would fix any of it.
In all the time he had been with the Wolf Gang, Alpha had always justified their actions as necessary for survival. But now Blade was beginning to wonder if this whole crusade hadn't been about something more than that. If it hadn't also been about revenge, about reclaiming the power and control Alpha felt had been robbed from him. It certainly made sense, and explained a thing or two about the pack leader.
But in the end, what did it matter? Whether the motive was survival or revenge, the outcome was the same. Blade was in this now, and there was no turning back. He had sworn his allegiance to Alpha. To refuse to act now would be seen as betrayal, and Blade would lose any chance he had at gaining the pack's trust. If he was lucky, all they would do was cast him out.
His fingers trailed along the bruised skin of his throat, his eyes glancing down at the bandage wrapped around his arm. He somehow doubted he would get that lucky
Besides, had promised himself he would do whatever it took…
"We clear the building before I set the bomb," he stated firmly, pushing down the lingering doubt and apprehension swirling in his gut. "No one gets hurt."
Viz gave a short nod. "Agreed," he replied lightly.
Two armed security guards patrolled the exterior of the warehouse, aided by several rotating cameras mounted on the outside of the building and one fixed camera over the main entrance.
The first order of business for Blade was taking out the security system, no easy task as the control panel was located inside the warehouse, and all the windows and doors were barred, locked, and alarmed. The slightest tampering would set off the entire system, bringing down the guards and automatically notifying the police.
Both guards carried access cards, but getting to them undetected would be difficult if not impossible with all of the cameras. Even if he did manage to procure one, there was no way to make use of it. There was undoubtedly a third guard inside who would be monitoring all of the security feeds, and if he saw anything at all suspicious—such as a giant green turtle trying to use the access card to open the front door—he was sure to sound the alarm.
Which meant Blade would have to use an alternate way to get inside. Luckily his earlier examination of the building had revealed just what he needed. It wouldn't be easy, but Blade felt confident in his ability to pull it off.
As soon as he began to move in on his target, he felt a calm focus envelope him, driving away any lingering doubt and fear. It was just like when he sparred with Viz; his body simply took over, moving of its own accord with practiced ease, every movement smooth and silent. A small part of him always wondered where he had learned such skills, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on it too much. He just knew he could do what needed to be done, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
He made his approach on the south side of the warehouse, making use of a burned out lamp that provided him with extra shadows for coverage. He timed his approach carefully, constantly monitoring the movements of the guards and the scan of the security cameras. He used what cover he could find, both man-made and natural, the dark night becoming his ally, cloaking him in shadows and masking his movements. At one point in time one of the guards walked within five feet of where he hid, never noting his presence.
It took him less than five minutes to traverse the open lot and reach the edge of the warehouse, ducking safely beneath the watchful eyes of the mounted cameras. Using a nearby drainage gutter he quickly scurried up the side of the building to the roof, relishing the feel of the cool evening breeze playing over his skin and sending his bandana tales waving lazily in the wind behind him. There were no cameras or prying eyes up here, and Blade allowed himself to relax slightly as he made his way to the northwest corner of the building.
The easy part was over…now it was about to get difficult.
Reaching the edge of the roof, he carefully leaned over and peered downward, his gaze immediately locating the smooth metal grill of a ventilation grate several feet below him. The grate was about five foot long by four foot high and secured to the side of the warehouse by several thick screws. In order to reach it, he would have to hang one handed from the edge of the roof while simultaneously using his free hand to work the screws free.
Piece of cake, right?
Pausing only long enough to pull a small blade from his belt, he smoothly slipped over the side of the roof, lowering himself down carefully a few feet to the right of the vent. He kept his breathing even and smooth as he released the edge of the roof with one hand, hanging by only three fingers as he quickly but carefully used the tip of the knife to began working the first screw loose.
It took a few minutes, but eventually it slipped free. Blade carefully caught it before it could fall to the pavement below, then began work on the second screw, focusing on keeping his movements smooth and steady. It seemed to take forever, but finally the second screw also worked free. Two down, one to go…
The muscles of his arm were beginning to ache, the deep scratches left by Two Toes throbbing fiercely from the strain, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind, all his attention set on the task before him. He didn't bother looking down. He didn't need to. It didn't take a genius to know that a fall from this height would seriously ruin his day.
By the time the third screw worked free, Blade's arm was trembling noticeable, small spasms that ran from his wrist to his shoulder. He was relieved when the grate swung to one side and he was finally able to swing his body inward through the opening. He paused on the lip of the hole, taking a moment to catch his breath and scout out his surroundings. The vent was an open air vent, meaning there was no ductwork to maneuver through. Instead, a narrow catwalk ran directly below, suspended from the ceiling by several thick iron cables. Dropping silently down onto the walkway, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. He was in and no alarm had been sounded. So far, so good.
Shaking out the muscles in his arm, he glanced beneath him, mentally mapping out the layout of the warehouse below. From his current location he could see the security booth almost directly beneath him, the door hanging open and the sound of music drifting out from inside. He could just make out the security guard's leg, the man's foot bouncing and swaying in time to the music. A careful glance around showed him that the interior of the warehouse lacked the cameras that guarded the outside. Good. It made his job that much easier.
The catwalk had no ladder, and the warehouse floor was too far down to risk simply jumping. Luckily a support joist several yards from the walkway provided him just what he needed. Taking a few steps running start, he vaulted neatly over the catwalk railing, caught the raised metal sides of the joist, and slid smoothly and silently down to the floor below.
Feet firmly back on solid ground, he reached behind him and drew his sword, relishing in the low hum from the steel as it pulled free from its sheath. He made his way swiftly toward the security booth, his movements perfectly silent, not a single sound giving away his presence. Not that it was necessary; the guard's music would have covered any sounds he might have made regardless.
The guard never knew what hit him. One moment he was bobbing his head in time to the music, his gaze fixed on the bank of video screens in front of him, and the next he was unconscious on the floor. After that, it took Blade less than a minute to successfully disable the security system, turn off all the cameras, and unlock the doors. He allowed himself a small smile of triumph before turning to grab the unconscious guard, hauling him up and over one shoulder with a small grunt of effort. Then he headed for the warehouse's main entry.
He was slightly surprised to find Viz waiting for him as soon as he opened the door, the gray wolf lounging casually against the side of the building, picking at his teeth with one sharp claw.
"The guards?" Blade asked quietly, arching a questioning eyebrow at the gray wolf.
"Taken care of," Viz replied easily, a wolfish grin settling over his features. "I couldn't let you have all the fun, now could I?"
Blade let out a small snort, shaking his head. "If it will make you happy, next time I'll be sure to let you hang from the thirty foot high roof and sneak in through the ventilation grate."
Viz straightened from his slouch, letting out a short grunt. "No thanks," he replied flippantly, reaching out and relieving Blade of the unconscious guard. He paused, his gaze coming to rest on Blade's upper arm. "Any problems?" he asked softly.
Blade glanced down at his arm, noting dispassionately that the white bandage was now marred by a few patches of red. Apparently hanging from the roof hadn't done the wound any good. "I'm fine," he replied lightly, giving his friend a reassuring smile.
Viz nodded slowly, shifting the unconscious guard into a better position on his shoulder. "I'll go put this one with the others over by the gate."
Blade nodded, glancing over his friends shoulder and watching as a black van pulled into the warehouse lot, marking the arrival of the rest of the gang. When he looked back at Viz, the wolf was holding out the black bag, all hint of humor gone from his expression. "Twenty minutes," he stated quietly, leveling Blade with a solemn gaze.
Blade swallowed hard, reaching out slowly to take the bag. "Twenty minutes," he repeated softly.
Viz gave him a small encouraging smile, then turned away to meet the rest of the gang. Blade watched him for a moment before letting his gaze fall to the bag he held. He knew it was his imagination, but it felt much heavier than it should have.
Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he turned back and re-entered the warehouse. It was time to get this over with.
"I'm telling you Raph, it was the same van from last week," Mikey whispered roughly, reaching out and grabbing his big brother's shoulders and bodily forcing him to turn and face him. "I know what I saw."
Raph grunted, shrugging out from beneath Mikey's hand and crossing his arms over his chest, his expression darkening with annoyance. "Mikey, there are hundreds of vans in New York," he stated pointedly. "There's no way you could know it was the same one. We're not even in the right territory yet."
Mikey ground his teeth in frustration, wondering not for the first time why his brothers never wanted to listen to him. "It was the same van," he repeated stubbornly. "I know it was."
Raph sighed, glancing over at Donnie who merely shrugged and asked. "How do you know Mikey?"
Mikey shook his head, glaring at his brothers in annoyance. "I don't know," he replied tightly. "I just know it was." As soon as he had seen the van he had recognized it from the warehouse raid they had interrupted over a week ago. It wasn't anything specific he could place his finger on, but more of a gut feeling. Of course, gut feelings didn't go far in convincing Donnie the Practical and Raphael the Skeptical. Leo would have believed him, but then again, Leo had never underestimated the importance of instinct and intuition.
Donnie and Raph exchanged another long look, and Mikey had to resist the strong urge to clonk them both over the head with the end of his nun chucks. Every second they stood here arguing, the van was getting a little farther away.
Finally Raph let out a long sigh. "Fine, Mikey…I'll humor you. Which way was the van going?"
Mikey quickly pointed toward the street the van's lights had disappeared down moments earlier. "That way," he replied succinctly.
Raph shook his head. "I'm telling you, if it is the same van, they're heading in the wrong direction. That's Dragon Territory."
"All the more reason we should check it out," Mikey retorted shortly, hopping from one foot to the other in impatience to get going. If they waited any longer, they would have trouble finding the van again, even from their rooftop vantage.
"Oh, let's just go Raph," Donnie finally muttered. "What will it hurt?"
Raph looked like he wanted to argue further, but with a muttered curse he finally gave in. "Fine! But if this turns into a wild goose chase, Mikey, I'm going to pound your shell!"
Ignoring his brother's empty threat, Mikey took off in the direction he had last seen the van, hurdling from rooftop to rooftop, only half paying attention to his footing as his eyes scanned the streets below for any sign of the vehicle. At first he thought he had lost them, but then he caught sight of the familiar tail-lights several streets ahead. The van was just making another turn, and Mikey poured on the speed, determined to catch up to them. He could hear his brothers struggling to keep up behind him, but he didn't slow his pace. After all, it was their fault they were so far behind in the first place.
They ran on for several minutes, slowly gaining ground on the van in front of them. Any doubt Mikey may have been harboring that he had made a mistake disappeared as the van at last turned down a quiet side street and headed for the parking lot of a large warehouse at the end of the street. It was well after midnight, and there was absolutely no good reason for the van to be there. Mikey could think of a couple bad reasons though.
"Hold up, Mike," Raph called softly from behind, and Mikey obediently slid to a halt still several rooftops away. His brothers came up beside him, and together they silently watched as the van pulled directly up to the warehouse doors and several men piled out and quickly disappeared inside. Less than a minute later they reappeared, arms full of boxes that they loaded swiftly in the back of the van before disappearing back inside the warehouse.
Mikey turned and gave his brothers a pointed look, waiting expectantly for their acknowledgment that he had been right. Donnie gave him a small smile and a conceding shrug, but Raph only grunted.
"Okay Mikey, you take point. Donnie and I will bring up flank. Keep a sharp eye out. We don't know if another one of those wolf creatures is around, and I don't want to be taken by surprise like last time."
Mikey shook his head, rolling his eyes. He supposed Raph giving him point was about all the apology he could expect to receive from his red-banded brother. He would take it though. Despite his earlier reluctance, he found himself suddenly ready and eager for some action.
Leaving the rooftops, they made their way quickly forward, Raph and Donnie dropping back to flank Mikey on either side. Mikey drew his weapons from his belt, carrying them loosely at his sides. He made no special effort to hide their approach, but even so the gang was so focused on their task that they didn't immediately take note of their presence. Mikey decided that a heads-up was only polite.
"Hey guys," he called out cheerfully, setting his nun chucks in a slow spin by his side. "You look like you're in a hurry?"
Two of the men had just finished depositing their load into the back of the van, and at Mikey's call they whirled around so quickly they nearly knocked each other over. One of the men let out a hoarse shout, his hand dipping toward the gun he had tucked into the side of his belt. Mikey frowned, but otherwise made no move as the fool pulled the gun free and began to lift it.
He didn't get far. The gun was only halfway up when a silver shuriken suddenly embedded itself into the back of the man's hand, causing him to howl and drop the gun, which bounced once before sliding away somewhere beneath the van.
"Now, now, play fair," Donnie's mild voice sounded from behind Mikey. "You don't see us carrying any guns do you?"
"You're going to pay, freak," the second man growled, his hands bunching into fists at his sides. His companion was too busy cradling his wounded hand and whimpering to offer his own threats.
"Yeah, yeah, we're terrified I'm sure," Raph growled. "Now why don't you call your buddies out here and we can get this show on the road."
As if in direct answer to his brother's words, Mikey watched as the remaining gang members suddenly appeared in the warehouse doorway, some of them gripping wicked looking knives while others held planks of wood they had obviously picked up from somewhere inside. There were no more guns readily apparent, but Mikey knew that didn't necessarily mean one or two of the punks weren't secretly packing.
"This all of you?" Raph asked, sounding bored. "You sure you didn't bring along one of your pet dogs to play?"
The group of men exchanged glances, but instead of answering, they merely charged forward with a wordless shout, weapons brandished.
The bomb was set.
Blade sat back on his haunches and watched as the small clock on the front of the device began to slowly tick backwards: 20:00, 19.59, 19:58, 19:57…It was somewhat mesmerizing to watch, like the slow slide of an avalanche down a mountainside, powerful and impossible to stop. He felt something twist inside his gut, and he had to forcefully push the sensation away. What was done was done…it was too late now to feel guilty about it. He couldn't stop the bomb now even if he wanted to…he didn't know how. His choice was made and there was no turning back. Now he just needed to find Viz, finish loading the van, and then get as far away from here as possible.
He rose to his feet, giving the bomb one last glance before turning his back and making his way toward the front of the warehouse. He had only gone a short distance when Viz suddenly appeared in the passageway before him, his expression grim.
"They're here," the gray wolf stated without preamble, rushing forward and gripping Blade by his shoulder. "Is there a way you can get back up to the roof?"
Blade stared at Viz in confusion, at first not comprehending what his friend was talking about. Then realization hit, and he felt his entire body stiffen, his eyes widening in alarm. In the distance he heard a cry of pain, the sound echoing back through the warehouse and jarring him like a slap to the face. He stared down the passageway toward the front of the warehouse, his breath caught in his lungs, his heart pounding wildly within his chest.
They were here.
Right now.
It seemed somehow impossible.
"Blade!" Viz's sharp voice cut through his shock as his friend tightened his grip on his shoulder, giving him a slight shake to gain his attention. "Can you get back up to the roof?" he repeated, his voice low and urgent.
Feeling dazed, Blade slowly nodded. "Yes, but…" he began, only to be cut off.
"Get up to the roof and stay out of sight," Viz ordered briskly, his dark eyes boring into Blade, his mouth set in a grim line. "That's an order. The boys and I will take care of this. You are to stay clear, Blade, do you understand?"
Blade wanted to argue, but a single look into his friend's face told him that Viz wasn't going to budge. A strange mix of emotions washed over him, a combination of disappointment and relief. The thought of facing the ones who had abandoned him to death was overwhelming, and yet he would have been lying if he didn't admit to the strange longing that had him leaning unconsciously toward the front of the warehouse.
"Do you understand?" Viz repeated again, this time louder, his grip tightening on Blade's shoulder until it was actually painful.
Blade swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes," he whispered, his stomach twisting into tight knots.
"Good," Viz growled, already turning and heading back toward the entrance. Blade watched him go for a moment before snapping his body into action.
He raced for the nearest wall joist, scaling it in the blink of an eye and making the leap to the catwalk without a second thought. He tore down the walkway, his footfalls sounding loud in the otherwise silent warehouse as he abandoned all attempts at stealth and silence. Scrambling up and out of the vent was a lot easier than getting in had been, and within seconds he was standing atop the roof once more, breathing hard, his body shaking with a mixture of adrenaline and apprehension.
He stood still for moment, fighting to control his breathing and regain at least some semblance of calm, but it was no use. He was feeling a hundred different emotions at the moment, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out which one to focus on. He found his feet carrying him forward without making the conscious decision to move, his eyes glued to the section of roof that overlooked the front entry. The muted sound of fighting drifted to him on the night air, and he couldn't hold back the shiver that raced down his spine.
He reached the ledge and looked over. A metal lamp post jutted out from the wall fifteen feet below him, casting the scene beneath it in an eerie orange glow.
The fight…or perhaps it would have been better to call it a massacre…had just ended. The gang members were lying strewn around in varying states of unconsciousness, looking for all the world like little toy soldiers thrown down and abandoned. Despite himself, Blade couldn't bring himself to focus on them at all. Instead, all his attention was drawn to the three figures forming a loose triangle at the center of the scene.
At that moment, a bolt of lightning could have struck the roof directly behind him and he still wouldn't have been able to tear his eyes away from the figures beneath him. Red, orange, and purple…his mind registered the colors in a single glance, and he found himself holding his breath, leaning out over the edge of the roof so he could study each of them better.
Red was the biggest, his frame thick and muscular, his color slightly darker than the other two. He was casually spinning two sais between his fingers as he surveyed the fallen men around him, something fierce and protective in his gaze.
Orange was shifting restlessly from foot to foot, as though uncomfortable standing still, his nun chucks forming complicated patterns all around his body. His movements carried a natural grace and athleticism, and though his expression was serious, his features showed the lines and ridges of someone who liked to smile a lot.
Purple was the only one standing completely still, his Bo staff held at an angle in front of him, his purple bandana tales flapping gently in the wind. He was regarding the scene around him with an intelligent and calculating look, as though analyzing it for future evaluation.
The way they were standing…each one guarding the backs of the others… spoke of fellowship and comradery, a single fighting force made up of three separate parts.
Three, not four.
A sharp pang of loneliness and loss shot through Blade, taking him completely by surprise. As if in direct response, the anger and bitterness that had been his constant companion for the past week rose up to swallow it. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the strong urge to go down to them. He didn't know what he would say or how they would react to seeing him, but he wanted a chance to look them in the eye. He wanted to ask them why he hadn't been good enough to be included in their little group. He wanted to ask them why his life meant nothing to them.
He took a small step forward, but before he could go any further he saw the three turtles suddenly tense, moving to form a single line facing the warehouse door.
Viz had arrived.
Donnie wasn't sure why the gray wolf wasn't attacking. He merely stood in the doorway to the warehouse, arms hanging loosely at his side, observing them calmly. Donnie felt his heart hammering wildly inside his chest as he stared back at the creature. He had forgotten just how huge they were.
The wolf took a single step forward, his arms flexing, sharp claws glinting in the light from the overhead lamp. He cocked his head slightly to one side, one ear twitching as though he was listening for something. He didn't carry himself with the enraged violence of the last wolf, but there was something menacing about his calm demeanor.
Donnie glanced over at Raph, waiting for his brother to take the lead, but Raph merely stood silent, his body tensed in preparation for the battle to come.
The gray wolf crouched, muscled bunching.
"We don't have to do this!"
The words were out of Donnie's mouth before his mind consciously decided to speak them. He saw the wolf pause, his gaze narrowing in on Donnie, his expression startled. Donnie felt both of his brother's eyes turn to him as well, and he had to swallow around his suddenly dry throat as he took a small step forward.
"We're not your enemies," he stated firmly, his gaze never leaving the wolf before him, even as his mind frantically recalled all the bits and pieces of information he had gained from Stockman's notes. "We know what happened to you…what Stockman did to you. You may believe this is all that is left for you, but you're wrong. We can help you Victor."
The wolf jerked slightly at the sound of his name, his eyes narrowing slightly. Donnie held his breath, praying that the creature would choose to talk verses attack. He watched as the wolf seemed to consider his words for a moment, his dark gaze boring into Donnie like twin daggers.
"Did you give the same speech to my pack brother before you killed him?"
The wolf's words were softly spoken, but Donnie felt himself flinch regardless. He had feared this response. It was the one barrier he had foreseen in his plans to try and talk to the mutant wolves, and it was a big one.
"We didn't have a choice," he replied quietly. "We were defending our lives."
The wolf scoffed at that, his ears twitching forward. "And this," he asked, sweeping his arm through the air in a gesture that encompassed the unconscious men sprawled around the ground. "Were you just defending yourself here?"
Donnie shook his head slightly, feeling the first tendrils of frustration growing in his chest. He glanced over at his brothers, earning a shrug from Mikey and a slight shake of the head from Raph. They were letting him take the lead with this one, but Donnie could tell from the look on his older brother's face that Raph thought he was only delaying the inevitable.
"What you're doing here is wrong," Donnie stated as firmly as he could. "Using these thugs to rob and steal is only going to get you in trouble. There are other ways to survive."
The wolf let out a harsh snort, shaking his head grimly. "Who are you to tell me right from wrong," he growled, his voice coming out low and dangerous. "Who appointed you judge? You killed my friend. Was that not wrong? His blood is on your hands, and I will avenge him. Tonight you will learn a few things about loyalty, turtle. You don't turn your back on your friends. Not ever!"
Donnie frowned, taken aback by the vehemence in the wolf's tone. He got the distinct impression that the creature was talking about something more than last week's battle, but before he had the chance to ask, the mutant was moving.
Donnie had forgotten how huge they were…he had also forgotten how fast they moved.
With no warning the gray wolf lunged forward, claws extended, his body hurtling straight for Donnie. Belatedly, Donnie realized he had let some of his guard down while talking to the creature. His Bo staff wasn't in the proper position to block the incoming swipe of claws, and he knew he didn't have the time to raise it.
Lucky for him, his brothers had kept themselves better prepared.
Even as the mass of gray fur barreled down on him, he caught movement from the corner of his eye as Mikey leaped forward with lightning speed of his own, twisting his body in mid-air and driving his foot into the side of the wolf, knocking him back and away from Donnie at the last possible second. The move gave Donnie the few precious moments he needed to balance his body and bring his weapon up in front of him. He immediately sank down into a fighting stance, mentally pushing down his disappointment. He had really hoped to avoid another fight, but it seemed talking was now out as a viable alternative.
The wolf recovered quickly from the blow to its side, spinning around and sweeping out with one arm, forcing both Donnie and Mikey to jerk back to avoid being mauled. They were still finding their balance as Raph swept around them, sais extended, a battle cry tearing from his throat as he bore down on the wolf.
The force of Raph's attack drove the wolf back, his body twisting and ducking the slashes and stabs of Raph's weapons. He backpedaled several paces, then, in a move that surprised them all, suddenly dropped down onto one hand, his legs sweeping out in a low spin kick that sent Raph sprawling.
It was a move that Donnie had seen a thousand times…a move that Leo had always favored and had gotten frighteningly good at. It took superb balance and speed, and if not done correctly left one dangerously open to attack. Donnie had lost count of the number of times he had thought he was gaining the upper hand in a fight with his oldest brother only to be taken down by that exact maneuver. Seeing it now, from their enemy, was like a punch to the gut.
But Donnie didn't have much time to think about it. Raph was down, if only for the moment, and he leapt forward to defend his brother until he could find his feet, Mikey right beside him. Between the two of them, they quickly had the wolf on the defensive once more, driving him slowly backward as he fought to avoid their weapons
But the creature wasn't going to be taken down easily.
An empty wooden pallet sat not far from the warehouse doors, and with a quick dive and twist, the wolf grabbed up the entire wooden frame and hurled it at them. Donnie threw himself to one side, feeling the pallet just barely graze the outside of his shoulder. He rolled with the impact, coming up on his feet several feet away, already back in his fighter's stance.
His stomach dropped as he realized Mikey hadn't been quite as lucky as him. His younger brother lay sprawled out on the dirty concrete, one side of his jaw already swelling from where the wooden frame had made contact. Donnie wasn't sure if Mikey was conscious or not, but his brother wasn't making any move to get up, and the gray wolf was quickly bearing down on him.
Donnie didn't hesitate, throwing his Bo staff with all his might straight at the creatures head, knowing it wouldn't stop the wolf, but hoping it would at least slow it down. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Leo admonishing him for throwing his weapon, but he had little choice. He had to do something.
Ah, crap!
With that frustrating speed that was beginning to annoy Donnie, the wolf snatched the wooden staff out of the air just moments before it would have struck, pivoting on his feet to face Donnie.
Well, at least his plan had worked. Somewhat. The creature was no longer going after Mikey, which was what Donnie had been after all along. Still, as the wolf changed directions and quickly bore down on him, Donnie had enough sense to know that he was in serious trouble. As good as he was in hand to hand combat, he didn't particularly like the odds against him with an opponent that was not only far bigger, but also far stronger than himself. This didn't look good. Not good at all. He had just given their enemy a weapon!
Good thing he had a brother that specialized in swooping in to save the day.
Raph rejoined the fight, moving in from the side and forcing the creature to halt its advance on Donnie as it now had to divide its attention between the two of them. Raph was playing it cautious, darting in for quick strikes before dancing out of range once more. It was a battle tactic more suited to quick-footed Mikey, but Raph had little choice, having enough sense to know that the close quarter fighting he usually preferred would earn him nothing but a smashed skull now that their enemy had the extended reach offered him by the Bo staff. It was a cat and mouse game, and as he watched helplessly, Donnie couldn't be sure who was the cat and who was the mouse.
"Donnie, check on Mikey!" Raph shouted, continuing to circle and feint, attempting to keep the creatures attention on him.
Donnie glanced quickly to the side, breathing out a silent sigh of relief when he saw Mikey up on his hands and knees, shaking his head dazedly but obviously fighting to regain his senses. "Mikey, get up," Donnie called, whirling back to the battle just in time to catch a flying Bo staff to the face.
Using his moment of distraction, the creature had used his own trick on him, albeit with a bit more success. The thrown staff hit awkwardly, but with enough force to knock Donnie clean off his feet, the right side of his face flaring in pain before going numb. He blinked dazedly up at the sky, his mind screaming at him to get up, but his body refusing to cooperate.
Somewhere in the distance he heard Raph scream in absolute fury, a cry that Donnie had come to recognize was a precursor to nothing but violence. He managed to push himself up on one elbow, blinking his eyes to try and focus, while simultaneously ignoring the dull throbbing that was beginning to make itself known throughout the side of his face.
His searching gaze quickly located his red-banded brother, and he let out a small gasp. Raph had managed to push the wolf back almost all the way to the entrance to the warehouse, his movements driven by fury and desperation. The two combatants were trading blows and strikes at an alarming rate, blood marring both smooth green skin and dark gray fur, neither willing to back down. As impressive as the battle was, Donnie knew his brother wouldn't be able to keep up the pace forever.
He forced himself to his feet, reaching out and gripping his staff from where it had fallen a few feet from him. To his left he could see Mikey had also regained his feet, his eyes fixed with wonder on the raging battle in front of him, his nun chucks already back in his hands and beginning to spin.
It was time to end this.
Donnie took a single step forward, and that's when everything changed.
Viz was in trouble.
Blade watched, frozen, as the scene unfolded beneath him. He listened to Viz's conversation with the turtles, then watched in awe as the fight erupted with such speed and violence it robbed him of his breath. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from the battle below, flinching every time a blow landed, whether on dark fur or smooth green flesh, it didn't matter. His heart was pounding wildly, and he gripped the edge of the roof in a white knuckled grip.
At first it seemed as though Viz was holding his own, overpowering his adversaries through sheer size and strength. But then suddenly the tides turned. With his two companions down, the red masked turtle seemed to go berserk, attacking with such ferocity and speed he soon had Viz back-peddling, working hard to avoid those lethally sharp blades.
Behind the battling pair, Blade could see the other two turtles gaining their feet, weapons in hand, and he knew Viz was out of time. There was no way the gray wolf could hold out for long against the combined might of the three turtles. They were simply too skilled…too quick. They would kill him, just as they had killed Tarin. Blade knew this without a doubt, just as he knew he could no longer watch and do nothing. He wasn't going to stand by while his friend was killed. No way!
With a practiced eye he gauged the distance between himself and the battling duo beneath him, mentally calculating exactly how he would need to jump. Then, without a second thought, he leapt lightly over the edge of the roof, feeling the rush of wind around him as he hurtled downward at an alarming speed. At seemingly the last moment he reached out and grabbed the metal beam of the overhead lamp, his momentum causing him to swing in a complete circle before he let go, his body flying forward at a slight angle.
Raph never knew what hit him.
One moment he was pressing his attack, his opponent falling back before the fury of his sais, and the next something struck him in the chest with enough force to send him flying backwards through the air.
He landed on his shell with a grunt, but was back up in a flash, adrenaline racing through his veins like wildfire. He half expected to find the wolf barreling down on him, but his opponent was still standing several yards away, a look of weary surprise on his furred face.
Raph's gaze locked onto the form standing in a protective crouch before the wolf, blue bandana tails flapping gently in the evening breeze. He felt his entire body go stiff with shock, his lungs forgetting how to breathe. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he felt his sais slip from his suddenly nerveless fingers to land with a clatter against the pavement at his feet.
It couldn't be!
Raph had never believed in ghosts or spirits, but at that moment he felt certain that was what he was seeing. Or perhaps he had somehow managed to hit his head on the ground when he fell backwards. Either way, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the apparition before him, pain and longing flooding through him, leaving his limbs shaking and his heart racing. The battle was completely forgotten in that moment. Like a man dying in a dessert, his gaze greedily drank in the sight before him, desperate to take it all in before it disappeared again.
He vaguely heard the sound of a surprised gasp from somewhere behind him, but he was too focused on the illusion before him to pay much attention. Then a cry sounded from off to his right, the sound full of excitement and wild, desperate hope.
"Leo!"
From the corner of his eye Raph saw a green and orange blur as Mikey launched himself forward toward the vision of their brother. The sudden movement was enough to break him from his frozen stupor, and he took a stumbling step after his brother.
It was then that the warehouse exploded in a blinding flash of light.
TBC
Okay, don't hate me. I promise to update as quickly as possible. I have to say, though, reviews really do help feed the muse. So… Oh, and thank you to all of you who have favorited or followed this story. I would really love to hear your thoughts so far. *Hint Hint*