A/N: The chap everyone's been waiting for, in which Aducci finds out what happens when you mess with the Hamato clan.

Chapter 26 -Visitors-
~~~

Marvin Aducci stood over the turtle as he began to stir.

Finally. I thought that antidote would never take effect. I've had to give him three times the recommended dosage. Well, 'Michelangelo', we'll soon see how you like your new collar and your new food. The man watched, fascinated, as the turtle's eyes began to flicker open. A small moan came from its throat.

"Raphy? Don? Leo?" He moved uneasily, the shackles rattling against the bars of the cage. Aducci knelt down and touched his jaw with a slender finger. The movement calmed, and he drew a deep breath.

"Austin?" he whispered. The blue eyes opened, expectant hope shining there for an instant before he focused on Aducci's face.

Michelangelo jerked away from the man with a shout. His arms jerked as he struck out instinctively and hit the end of the slack. His eyes widened as he saw the short chain binding his shackled wrists to the bar of the cage, and he began jerking at the restraints.

"What the shell?" he shouted.

"Now, just take it easy," Aducci soothed. He stood up, taking a few prudent steps back. "You're still recovering from the tranquilizer I had to use. It seems I underestimated your abilities. I'll have to keep you more carefully restrained in the future."

"Let me out," growled Michelangelo, turning to glare at the man. Helpless fury shone in his eyes. "Get this off, Aducci."

"Now, Michelangelo," said the man in his most reasonable tone. "Let's just calm down. You're awake, that's good. I'll just give you a little time to think about how you acted this morning. In spite of your foolish escape attempt, I've brought you a different type of food to try. I'm sure you'll like this better."

"I'm warning you, Aducci," shouted Mike. He had well and truly lost his temper. He managed to scramble to his feet, and lunged at the man, only to be stopped short by a choking, pinching tightening around his neck.

"What? What is this?" He turned his head from side to side, and tried unsuccessfully to lift his hands to his neck to explore the cold links surrounding his throat.

"It's a pinch collar," said Aducci calmly. "It will help you learn not to lunge."

"I'll help you learn not to breathe," growled Michelangelo.

He dove at Aducci again, ignoring the searing pain around his neck until it closed his windpipe and he fell, gagging, to his knees.

Aducci watched, unmoved. "The harder you pull, the harder it will dig into your skin," he said softly. "I suggest you calm yourself. Be reasonable, Michelangelo. You're no match for me."

"Want… to… bet?" Mike panted. He got to his feet, glaring. "I'm gonna take you down, Aducci."

The man shook his head. "I can see you need some more time to adjust to your new environment. I really hope you'll consider your position, Michelangelo. You aren't going anywhere. Your life would be much more pleasant if you were more cooperative."

"Dude, let me out of this…"

Marvin shook his head. He turned and calmly left the room, ignoring Michelangelo's growled threats and ranting.

Give him some time to calm down. He'll soon learn who's in charge.

***

Several hours passed, but all Michelangelo's efforts to break the chain gave him were a headache and sore wrists. He slumped, leaning his shell against the bars, and let the tears fall, unchecked down his cheeks.

Raphy, Leo, Don… I wanna go home now. I'm sick of this. Sick of this cage, sick of this idiot, sick of pellets and fruit… Sick of no video games and no one to talk to and nothing to do. Get me out, guys. Just come and get me out.

The turtle began to rock back and forth, rubbing his shell against the bars in a soothing rhythm. He hummed a little tune. He stopped when he realized he was singing Austin's favorite song. This time when the image of her face came to his mind, he embraced it. If he couldn't have the real thing, he could at least remember her.

Her hair is so soft… just like silk. And her eyes… I love how they're not all one color. There are flecks of green and brown and gold. I wonder what kind of shampoo she uses. Boy it smells good. If I ever see her again, I'm gonna ask her. I want to know what that scent is. Maybe I can get Leo to buy candles with something other than sandalwood smell. It sure would be nice if the Lair smelled like Austin's hair. Shell I wish she was here. I wish I could see her just one more time.

Michelangelo crawled over to the pitiful nest of blankets Aducci'd provided him with, curled up and tried to sleep.

If I can't see Austin in person, maybe I'll dream about her, he thought, closing his eyes.

***

Marvin Aducci was enjoying an expensive cigar and a cheap magazine when the knock came at his door. He swore mildly, standing up. Reclusive by nature, he rarely had visitors and he despised door-to-door salespeople and religious nuts.

The young woman standing on his stoop appeared to be neither. She wore a sling to support her obviously injured left shoulder. She was quite thin and her clothes appeared slightly too large, as if she'd recently lost a good deal of weight. The haunted look in her eyes reminded Aducci sharply of the turtle, the expression that had crossed its features when it was waking from the sedative.

"Yes, how may I help you?"

"I seem to have broken down," she gestured toward a small silver hatchback at the curb. The hood was open, and what looked like white smoke was pouring forth from underneath. "I wondered if I might use your phone? Or if I might ask you to call someone for me" Her voice was soft, polite.

She certainly didn't look threatening, but Marvin Aducci's brownstone sported an impressive array of rare and expensive collectibles. Even with his reinforced steel interior doors essentially creating a series of "safe rooms" within the house, he was not prone to allowing strangers to cross his threshold. Especially now that he had such a particularly rare and valuable specimen to protect.

"Well…" He hesitated.

The girl was quite pretty, with her pixie face and her wide, hazel eyes. She'd obviously had a difficult time recently. He hated to seem heartless.

"Perhaps I could bring the phone out to you," he conceded finally.

"Oh, that would be very helpful. Thank you so much," said the girl politely.

She was eager, but not gushing. Marvin smiled, feeling a bit like a knight in shining armor. He straightened his tweed sports coat and went in search of his cordless telephone.

When he returned, the girl was still huddled in the doorway. If anything, she looked more pathetically weak and pale than before. Marvin shook himself, annoyed at the nagging thought that he should invite her in, offer her something to drink.

Let her make her call and be on her way, he thought. I have things to do this afternoon. She coughed violently, covering her face with a delicate kerchief, and turning away, as if she were embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her thin frame was wracked by another cough. It was not the deep, lung-rattling cough of illness, but the lighter, more annoying sound of a dry throat. Marvin watched the girl for a moment.

"May I offer you a glass of water?" he muttered rather ungraciously.

"Oh, that would be very nice," she replied, those hazel eyes touching his. Marvin felt a little thrill. Rarely had a lovely young thing like this regarded him with anything but amusement or derision.

"Please, come in."

He led her to the kitchen. So intent was he on his own train of thought, he didn't notice how her eyes darted about the room, drinking in details like the re-enforced doors and the cutting board with the remains of fresh produce he'd left out on the counter after preparing the turtle's morning meal.

He'd poured her a glass of fresh spring water and was about to suggest this would be a good time for her to make her phone call when there was yet another tap at his front door. Marvin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He rarely had visitors at all. Two in one afternoon seemed excessive.

"Will you excuse me?" he said politely, hardly waiting for her reply before heading to the front door. When he arrived, no one was there. Marvin closed the door with a snap. If this were some sort of trick, he'd soon get to the bottom of it.

He hurried back to the kitchen, but to his alarm and dismay, the young woman was gone. Feeling slightly panicked, he darted down the hall to the room where Michelangelo was housed. He unlocked the door, and slipped inside, gratified to see the turtle still curled up on his blankets, apparently sleeping off the after-effects of the sedative.

He turned to go out and find the young woman, and escort her firmly off the premises. He'd barely taken a step toward the door when he found himself facing a rather sharp and wicked-looking dagger, cradled expertly in the woman's hand. Her sling had disappeared and her eyes were no longer soft and sad. They snapped with fury and hatred.

"You," she snarled, advancing. "You put him in a cage? What did you think, that he was some kind of animal?"

"Now, Miss, let's be reasonable," said Marvin, backing away. He had the tranq pistol in the pocket of his jacket. If he could reach it without alerting her to what he was doing… He slowly moved his hand toward the pocket, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Do you know his name?" she asked. Her eyes were cold, burning into him.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you know his name?" she asked again. "Did you even know he has a name? Or a family? People who care about him, who've been searching for him? Did you know he was kidnapped, stolen from everyone who loves him, from me?"

Tears slid down her cheeks. The hand holding the knife was shaking. She stopped, just inches from Marvin.

He edged to one side to give himself some space from that knife. Until then he'd been between the girl and the turtle lying in the cage, so that he blocked her view of him. Now her eyes flickered past him to land on the pitiful bundle curled in the corner.

"You chained him?" The fury in her eyes magnified. Aducci yanked the pistol from his pocket, pointing it at her just as she lunged forward. She struck out instinctively, knocking his hand aside just as he pulled the trigger.

Her surprisingly strong hand caught his wrist, and Aducci found himself flying through the air. He landed with a crash near the door, and slid to the floor, dazed. The woman knelt, straddling him. He tried to lift his head but the room tilted and spun.

"Keys," she growled.

Aducci shook his head. He wasn't about to give up so easily. The knife was at his throat in an instant, the blade pressing against his skin.

"Give. Me. The. Keys," she said softly.

Aducci shook his head again and the blade pressed harder. He felt something warm trickle down his throat.

"He's just an animal," he muttered. "Why do you want him so badly?" He felt the hand holding the knife twitch, and swallowed, regretting his query. "Wait! Wait. I can pay you. Did Karai steal him from you? I'll pay you what I paid her…"

The knife twitched again, and the trickle of blood became a steady stream.

"Give me the keys," she whispered.

Aducci managed to meet her gaze. The hazel eyes were dangerous, blazing, as if they'd been lit from within. Swallowing hard, he moved his head in the slightest of nods. The knife pulled back from his neck, but hovered, ready to plunge into his throat. She stood up, stepping to one side to allow him up. After a moment, Aducci scrambled to his feet, standing rather unsteadily. He faced the girl.

"I'm not going to let you take him," he said. "He was expensive."

She took a step toward him, but Aducci never did find out what she would have done. The next instant, he was on his back once more. The blade at his throat this time was much longer, much sharper and wielded by the most terrifyingly furious being Aducci'd ever seen. The turtle was a twin to the one in the cage, but slightly taller, with dark brown eyes and sporting a blue mask. The sword at Aducci's throat quivered.

He's insane! the thought shot through Aducci's mind. He's insane… and I'm going to die.