Woohoo! Next chapter is up!
A few quick notes: This story will be mainly centered around the 2003 TMNT series, but may pull from the other universes from time to time. My OCs are also older - around 20 - 22- years of age, which means that the turtles and other characters from the series will be properly aged up to match that as well.
Rated M for language and violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT or any of the characters within the TMNT universes.
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10:31pm – 3 days before the explosion
BELLE
There were two things that Bellerose hated more than anything in the world: hockey and her name.
While derived from both her mother's middle name and her grandmother's maiden name, Bellerose could not help but cringe every time she had to introduce herself. "Just call me Belle," she would state.
"Like the instrument?" one would ask.
"Like the Disney princess?" most would say.
It was predictable responses like these that never failed to to grate on her nerves and if her conscience hadn't reign out louder than her irritation, Belle would have probably changed her name by now. Her dead parents wouldn't be that offended, would they? They'd understand that a name like "Bellerose" was too girly—too flowery for someone like her, right? And that was only the beginning!
Her last name was even worse.
And then there was hockey. One of the worst sports ever created and not because of the game itself, but because of—
A sound from below averted her attention and the thief pushed away her musings for another time. Belle crouched down low as she carefully peered over the ledge of the roof she was on. She cursed as her vision began to blur, the figures below alternating between people carrying large boxes to smudges of dark clothing as they moved about. By now, the rain was coming down in sheets, putting Belle at yet another disadvantage. Not only were her visuals completely compromised, but the conversation below was imperceptible as well.
She strained her hearing as far as she could through the merciless torrent.
Shit, she thought. I need to get closer.
But did she dare?
Belle looked back at her watch and pressed the button that blew out a hologram image of her target. Above its picture was the payment she would receive if she successfully obtained the device.
Yes, yes she did.
Flexing her finger to get some feeling back into them, Belle swung her body over the roof's ledge and landed silently onto a grated fire escape. Cautiously, she crept down, floor by floor, until she was practically right above the action. By then, the wind was blowing mercilessly—one particular gust ripping the black cowl she wore off her head and leaving the thief with only a mask over her mouth and nose for protection. It was a blessing that she remembered to tie up her hair before she'd left, for if she hadn't, Belle's straight locks would have definitely given away her position by now.
Zeroing back in to the matter at hand, Belle could now easily hear what was being said.
One of the men—a big guy with blonde hair and huge tatted arms—shouted orders at the others as he remained hunched over a wall of crates near an opened armored vehicle. His partner stood besides him, a man decked out in a ridiculously large rain poncho that alternated his attention between watching the men load the truck and checking off items on a clipboard. Both had their backs turned, but Belle felt her heart spike as she recognized them anyway.
She groaned.
What the hell? Why were The Foot and the PDs working together? That hadn't been in the job description. And it most certainly was not worth what she was being paid in. Belle focused back onto the scene below just in time to watch the blonde man rip off the lid to one of the crates with his bare hands, regardless of the nails still embedded into the wooden frame. His partner—a scientist with oversized glasses and a shocking display of red hair— only rolled his eyes in response and set aside the crowbar he had previously picked up. He resumed his counting.
Belle shook her head.
Nope. Not happening. She could make up her rent money somewhere else.
Receding farther into the shadows, Belle fingered the com link in her ear, ready to tell her client just that. He beat her to it, however, and the thief scowled as a deep, garbled-up voice cut though the static.
"What are you doing?" It demanded, obviously altered and aimed to sound low and intimidating.
"What am I'm doing? What do you mean 'what are you doing'," she said, mimicking her client's disguise. She jutted out a hand. "What the hell is this?! You never said anything about running into The PDs and The Foot. You trying to set me up here?"
"I didn't think it would be a problem for someone of your skill set. Your contact did mention that you've dealt with worst odds in the past, correct?"
She was going to kill Adam.
"I have," Belle bit back without missing a beat. "But not without heat. And it was my understanding that this was supposed to be a simple grab-n-go. In and out. I don't know what you're seeing from your view, but I'm completely outnumbered here!"
A chuckle. "You say this as if it should mean something to me."
"Well it should mean something because guess what? I'm not doing it. I'm out," Belle whisper-yelled into the com.
"And risk your reputation? I think not." The voice tsked back. It didn't sound the least bit concerned and Belle felt her temper flare.
"That shit won't work on me, buddy. I know my limits and what you're offering ain't worth going head-to-head against two of the biggest gangs in New York. Especially if they're working together."
"Not even for double your pay?"
Belle hesitated and silently swore. Double her pay? That was fifty thousand dollars they were talking about—way more than she'd ever been paid for during her previous operations.
She looked back over to the scene below. The blonde man turned away from his partner and started to inspect the creates that were being loaded into the armored truck. He pulled out a semi-automatic rifle, briefly checking it's magazine before snapping it back into place with a crack louder than the storm. Belle jumped as she felt the sound course through her bones. Nope.
As if hearing her turmoil, the voice's static signature crackled back in her ear.
"Triple."
Fuck. That would be enough for preschool payments. Millie could get new clothes. New shoes. More toys. Belle could find an actual apartment for them—someplace safe and situated in a decent neighborhood. Someplace with an actual bedroom.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
This was bad. Never before had she gone against the PDs and The Foot at the same time. That was just plain suicide and it almost wasn't even worth it.
But then a pair of blue eyes so similar to her own flashed across her mind. Blue eyes surrounded by black frames.
Millie could finally get glasses.
Belle hit the metal step in front of her, resisting the urge to scream.
"You son of a bitch." The voice cruelly chuckled in response, and Belle angrily fingered the com, cutting him off. The motherfucker deserved to be left in the dark. It wasn't like he couldn't just track her anyway.
Belle turned back to the drop below, scanning the open crates and boxes for her target, but only cursed as the men continued to pull out weapon after weapon—nothing remotely like the piece she was looking for.
Guns, guns, more guns—her nerves tensed as she watched the raid. If she hadn't been so worried about her pay, Belle would have almost been disturbed over the amount of weaponry they were collecting. Something big was about to go down and as far as Belle was concerned, it was absolutely none her business.
The rain was relentless, an absolute brutality as it seeped through her clothing and hammered against the thief's petite form. Belle paused, however, as she squinted against the veil of water. She could use this. The storm was already making it difficult for her to see, so she could only imagine how hard it was for the men below to concentrate on both loading the truck and scanning the perimeter. Yes, she could definitely use this to her advantage.
Suddenly, the man in the lab coat shrieked, causing Hun and herself to start slightly as he snatch whatever it was the blonde gorilla had just picked up. From her vantage point, Belle could just make out a cylindrical object covered in metallic lining and glass plating. It was small—about the size of an everyday water bottle, but housed inside was one of the largest diamonds Belle had ever seen—a blood-red gem that filled up the entire canister with pulsating light and a mysterious, red aura.
Obviously more important than the other items from the raid, Belle thought as she watched the scientist clutch it like a lifeline and mercilessly ripped Hun a new one for manhandling it. The thief suddenly tensed as she continued to study the object, her finger discreetly pressing down on the hologram button of her watch. That was it—her target, her paycheck, her ticket to a new apartment. That was the thing she'd been looking for.
And of course, it was being treated as the centerpiece of their operation. Shit, she cursed. This was going to be harder than she thought.
Focus. You can do this. She needed to concentrate. She needed to push aside her nerves and the hair-raising paranoia and focus solely onto the scene below.
Belle closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, slowing down her raging her heartbeat and clearing her mind of any and all distractions, save for one, single question.
She slowly exhaled.
What do you see?
And snapped her eyes open.
Ten PD lackeys—four of them loading the truck, two of them watching the entrance, three checking boxes and one sitting in the driver's seat. All of them visibly packing heat.
Four Foot soldiers—each taking a different corner of the exchange. Two by the truck and two by the building's door. Various amounts of weaponry strapped to their person. Each one decked out in a uniform with obvious technological enhancements. Clearly higher level personnel.
Two samurai guys with funky hats— figurative statues despite the weather. One holding a pitchfork, the other grasping a twin-bladed sword. Pitchfork standing close to the scientist, Double Blades positioned between the truck and the PDs at the entrance. Clearly the wrenches in the situation.
One dorky looking scientist holding the next year's rent— Slightly on the smaller side with no obvious muscle mass. Might be packing a gun, but shouldn't be too much trouble to take out.
And Hun— the personified semi-truck. Leader of the Purple Dragons and one of the biggest pains-in-the-ass to deal with on a good day. All brawn and no brain, but powerful enough to knock down a building with a single punch. One hit from him and it's lights out. For good.
Belle growled as she broke her concentration and looked around for some type of weapon.
Grab-n-go my foot.
She'd take anything at this point if it gave her some semblance of a chance against these odds.
Her eyes shifted to the side, landing on a broken pipe against the dumpster beneath her, and just as she was about to climb down the escape to grab it, a loud voice from the entrance way halted every criminals' movement, including her own.
Oh Fuck! Not him anyone but—
"GOOOONGAAALAA!"
Him.
Within the darkness of the night, the literal bane of her existence materialized. Large hands wrapped in sport bandaging grabbed the two PDs stationed at the front of the alleyway and without missing a beat, jerked them forward and smashed their heads together like a pair of cymbals. Double Blades instantly sprang into action, leaping towards the hockey masked idiot with an intent to kill, only to be savagely knocked backwards by another, mysterious individual. The guard flew through the air, smashing into the front windshield of the armored truck then creating a person-size dent into the hood as he rolled onto it.
Belle couldn't really see who the second person was, and nor did she care. It was the Jason Voorhees impersonator who had her full blown attention.
The motherfucker couldn't take ONE day off?!
Resisting the urge to bang her head into the metal railing, Belle turned her sights back onto the scientist who visibly panicked as his attention was diverted past the vehicle. The Foot soldiers beside him hit their chests as they heard the commotion, activating a button that gradually caused their uniforms to glow and created a cloaking device over their forms. One second they were there and the next...they were gone.
The thief blinked, not really believing her eyes. Well that's...concerning.
Belle could only hope that the soldiers went towards the disturbance and hadn't chosen to stick around to help protect the loot. The PDs who were stationed behind the truck, also dropped their crates and began to pull out their weapons, ready to join their comrades. They ran towards the action, along with Pitchfork, leaving only the scientist and Hun to quickly sort through the chaos in their wake. Realizing that the situation was far more dire than before, the scientist stashed the device back into its box and ran to help Hun load the truck. Belle began to stand.
This is my chance.
But as soon as the thought entered her mind, it was like faith had decided that the joke was over. Pitchfork, who had been knee-deep in a scuffle with the second vigilante, was suddenly flung backwards with the same blow his partner had been given—only this time, instead of landing on the truck, the man flew right into the fire escape that Belle was perched on. The force of the collision knocked the thief clean off her feet and structure itself crumbled as it was completely dislodged from the wall.
"SHIIITT!" Belle shrieked as she and Pitchfork began to free fall down towards the pavement.
The thief maneuvered her body away from the broken escape, having only a second to brace herself before she landed full force onto the dumpster lid, tumbling over its side and into the alleyway muck near around it.
To say everyone was stunned was an understatement.
It was damn-near comical how all three sides were suddenly at a mutual standstill— neither one of them fully registering that there had been fourth player hidden in the sidelines the entire time.
Belle tried to get up but could only cry out when she realized her shoulder was dislocated. She fell backwards on the pavement, unable to move any further and turned her head to the side to look for something that might help her up.
Belle froze as she suddenly came face-to-face with Pitchfork, who had fallen on the ground beside her. The guard narrowed its eyes and after a moment of realization that the thief was not apart of either side, grabbed his fallen weapon and swung it back around in a blur of movement. With a scream of both adrenaline and pain, Belle forced her body to twist away just as the trident's head was slammed into the pavement, right where her face had been.
That seemed to snap everybody out of their trance and the fight recommenced.
Belle screamed as her shoulder snapped from the sudden bout of movement and miraculously relocated itself back into place. She grasped the bruised joint, using the dumpster for support as she began to stand and test the bones in her legs to see if anything was broken. Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and Belle watched with a heavy feeling of dread as Pitchfork slowly began to stand up as well, seemingly unharmed and undeterred from their two-story drop.
He retracted his weapon.
Her eyes shifted towards the left—to the pipe from earlier. It was right there.
And with only a second to think, Belle launched herself to the side, grabbing the broken tube and bringing it up just in time to block the overhead attack aimed straight for her face. The dude was strong, way stronger than she was and with the strength of ten men, his attack gradually began to advance as she struggled to hold back his weapon. With the last of her adrenaline, she thrust the pipe upwards and surprisingly managed to make him stumble, though not fall. Taking a page from the shadow figure's book, Belle pulled back her weight and smashed a solid front kick right into the man's sternum with all the strength she had left. Pitchfork fell backwards, completely unbalanced as his weapon skidded across the ground and out from his reach. Belle kicked it away even further and ran for the back of the truck before the guard could regain his footing.
As much of a shit show this mission had turned into, the thief still had a job to do.
Dodging a couple of weak attacks from the PD's lackeys, Belle finally managed to round the truck's exterior, only to be suddenly grabbed by the scruff of her clothing. She was yanked backwards, writhing violently as the materials around her neck constricting her airflow.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Hun sneered as he readjusted his grip and closed his fingers completely around her throat. "A little mouse, in an alley full of cats."
Belle's nails scraped at his fingers in an attempt to get air into her lungs, but it was no use. He lifted her off the ground as if she weighed no more than a Barbie doll and Belle could only panic as the gang leader pulled her in for a closer inspection. Suddenly, Hun's eyes narrowed in recognition.
"I know you," he practically spat in her face. "You're that damn thief who keeps snooping around my jobs. Getting a little predictable, aren't ya?" He squeezed her throat as if to put emphasis on her failure, then without warning, reached forward and yanked the mask down from her face.
No! Belle began to struggle even more.
But it didn't matter. Her identity was compromised. Even if she could somehow find a way to escape this, Hun now knew what she looked like. He could find her, track her and because of this absolute fuck-up of a job, she would never be completely safe again.
She thought of her sister—her beautiful baby sister and panicked once she realized that the toddler was going to be completely alone after tonight.
But no, that wasn't true.
Because Millie still had A. Belle's vision began to blur as the hand around her neck tightened its grip even more. Yes, Millie still had A and Belle felt herself relax a little as she realized there was at least someone who could provide for the child if she didn't make it. A wouldn't let her go into foster care. No, she'd take Millie under her wing before anything like that ever threatened to happen. A was stable. She had a job, a house, a safety net of people at her back and plus, she'd always been way better at the whole parenting shtick than Belle to begin with. She could protect her—A would protect her—and honestly, at that moment, that was all the thief could ask for.
And with that thought, Belle felt her resolve hardened. She smiled, flashing Hun a venomous grin before using the last of her air to hawk a wad of spit straight into his face. Now, now she was ready to die.
But before Hun could even comprehend what the thief had done, a loud thump from behind diverted both of their attentions. Belle turned her head to see the shadow figure from before perched atop the roof of the truck, narrowing a pair of pupiless eyes and gearing up for its next attack. She dropped her arms, unable to keep them up any longer as she stared at its bizarre silhouette. The rain from the storm began to clogged her senses and Belle felt her vision dim considerably as her body went slack in Hun's grip. The figure lunged forward just as blue eyes drifted shut and the last thing Belle saw before the night swallowed her whole...
Was a glint of metal.
And a green foot coming down straight for Hun's head.
/
Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your thoughts and predictions for what's to come. And as always, stayed tuned for more. We're only just getting started.
- P.R