The day before the scheduled breakout, Donatello approached Bishop, one hand on his midsection for dramatic effect. "Bishop," Don grunted.
"Donatello." Bishop looked at Don's belly almost greedily. It gave Don the shivers. "How can I help you?"
"I haven't been feeling well," Don said bluntly.
"I know. My staff tells me that your symptoms still aren't letting up."
"That's true, but I'm used to that," Don replied. "This is something else, like a cramping. I'm worried about the babies."
Bishop tilted his head. "It's probably just from the stretching, but let's get you checked out."
Bishop, Don, and his guards began the trek from Bishop's office to the exam room. When they reached the final set of security doors, Bishop nodded to the guards. They backed off and stood at the end of the hall. They normally did this during exams, to give Donatello the illusion of privacy.
Donatello's eyes scanned the hallway as he and Bishop approached the exam room. It would be logical if the hormones were nearby. This was essentially a research and development building. It had no need for a full medical center. Don was pretty much the center of attention right now, and he was certainly the only one in need of these particular medications. They had to be around here somewhere.
There was a single, unmarked closet in the hall. That almost had to be the place. The fact that it was unmarked was a dead giveaway.
Bishop led Don to the exam room, but when he turned to collect the gel, Don quickly reached behind the ultrasound machine and switched two of the wires into different slots. Don didn't know which wires they were. It really didn't matter. The switch only took a second, and Bishop didn't seem to notice. He turned the machine on, only for it to short out and immediately power down.
Don suppressed a snicker when Bishop flipped the power switch again. Why did people always seem to think that would work? "Do you want me to take a look at it?" Don offered. "I'm kind of an expert with machines, as you know."
"Fine. Have at it," Bishop said.
Don removed the outer shell of the machine and hummed thoughtfully as he looked at the internal components. He removed a bracing pin and tucked it behind one thick finger. He then frayed the power line and used it to burn a corner of the circuit board. "Look at this," he said to Bishop. "It's just a frayed wire and a bit of board damage. Do you have a computer repair kit around here?"
"I'm sure we could dig one up," Bishop said. "Let me call in someone from maintenance."
"I can make the repair," Don quickly offered. "It should only take me a couple of minutes, and I'm anxious to get this done and check on the babies. The fix might be as simple as a little well-placed electrical tape. You've got to at least have that laying around, right?"
"Okay," Bishop agreed. He did look a little suspicious, but he began rooting through drawers while keeping one eye on Don. For his part, Don sat innocently on the exam table, keeping one hand on his stomach.
"There's nothing here," Bishop said. "But we can check the closet. I'm not letting you out of my sight. Come on."
Don hopped off the table and followed obediently. Once they were in the closet, Don stood back and gave it a quick visual scan. There was a single, locked refrigerator. When Bishop wasn't looking, Don used the pin from the ultrasound machine to pick the lock. But, he didn't open it right away, since Bishop was due to look back at any time.
After Bishop peeked at Don, then returned to picking through drawers, Don silently shot forward and opened the fridge. Dead center was a box marked "Donatello." Don quickly popped it open. Rows of small ampules were inside. The first several rows were empty and uncapped, but the rest were still sealed. Don grabbed the box, hid it behind his shell, stepped back, and pushed the fridge door closed with his foot.
His heart was pounding. These had to be the hormones, but he needed to be able to sneak them out. Furthermore, the guards had been delivering his hormone dosages and prenatal vitamins in the early evening, when he was least sick. If today's dose was still in the fridge, he would need to put something in its place to fool the guards. No one could know that the hormones were stolen until after Don was free. Otherwise, he risked being found out.
But, Don didn't have time to look at the contents of the box right now. Bishop was right there, keeping a close eye on him.
"Can I help you look?" Don asked, intentionally drawing attention to himself.
"Go ahead," Bishop agreed. "Try that shelving unit."
Don sidestepped to the shelves that Bishop had indicated, which were right next to the area that Bishop was searching. Don chose a spot that was partially blocked from Bishop's view, brought the ampule case out from behind his shell, and opened it. He pulled up the first capped vial. It had tomorrow's date on it. The guards must have already taken today's dose out and brought it to the kitchen for storage. It wasn't unusual for them to bring it to him in a cup of peppermint tea, to keep his stomach calm.
Don breathed a sigh of relief. This meant that no one would be looking for the hormones until the next afternoon. Still, anyone who opened the fridge would notice that the ampule case was missing. Don pulled the case's outer shell apart from the inner section. He waited for Bishop to look over, once his captor turned back around, Don snuck the empty case back into the fridge and re-locked it.
Don then returned to the shelf that he was working on. He found a box of various cords and wires for connecting computers and lab equipment. It was exactly what he needed. Don snuck the ampules into a cardboard box of screws. "I think that I've got something to work with here," he told Bishop. I'll just need to borrow a scalpel or some scissors when we get back to the exam room, but I'm sure you have that laying around, right?"
"I do," Bishop confirmed. He then led Donatello back to the exam room. Don made quick work of undoing the damage he had done to the ultrasound machine. He then set the box of spare parts and hormones aside as though it didn't matter to him at all.
Don turned the machine on and hopped up onto the exam table. "Let's give her a whirl," he suggested.
Bishop squirted gel onto Don's plastron and readied the wand. He raised his eyebrows as the image came to life. "Eureka," Bishop exclaimed. "Now, show me again where the pain is."
Don indicated the middle of his abdomen. Bishop moved the wand around, while Donatello considered what to do next. He winced occasionally for good measure.
"I don't see anything unusual. Now that your stomach is beginning to bulge, you're probably just experiencing growing pains," Bishop declared. "Let's see how the little ones are doing."
Bishop moved the wand and found them in no time. They were the size of limes now, and given Don's softening plastron and slightly swollen belly, the task of locating them was much easier than before. Bishop did a thorough exam that left Don completely captivated.
The turtle was having last-minute jitters, to be sure. As awful as Bishop could be, he was certainly being careful to keep Don and the babies healthy. Once Don was free, he would be on his own, with no medical care. Sure, he could put together an ultrasound machine, but it would take weeks, if not months. This would be the last time that he saw the babies for a while. If something went wrong, he would have to diagnose and treat himself or come crawling back to Area 51, where he and his young would undoubtedly end up in a much more secure cell, with far fewer privileges.
There was also fear about the birth itself. Don didn't know how to prepare. Bishop thought that a natural birth might be possible, but it was by no means a guarantee. If Don needed surgery, he didn't know who would do it. Leatherhead or Professor Hunnicut might have been good candidates, but neither of them lived on earth anymore.
Don would have to cross that bridge when he came to it. He pushed his fears aside and reinforced his resolve that he and his children had to get out now. He requested a printed picture from Bishop. Then, he put it on top of the box that contained the hormones. He knew it would be suspicious if he tried to sneak the box out, and he knew that the guards would search it if he took it back to his room. So, he didn't try to hide anything.
"Would it be okay if I brought some of this stuff to the workshop?" Don requested. "I damaged a part of my scale model yesterday, and I'd like to get it back up and running as soon as possible."
Bishop took a quick look at the box's contents: cords, wires, connectors, screws. "Sure," he approved. "Just ensure that it gets put back when you're done."
Don brought the box to his workshop. His guards accompanied him, but they took posts outside the door, as usual. There was a small fridge in the shop, which was used to store volatile chemicals. Don ensured that everything was tightly sealed. He grabbed a styrofoam container that had contained yesterday's lunch and put the hormone ampules inside. He then put the container into the fridge. He was as ready as he would ever be.
Don spent the remainder of the evening finishing up odds and ends around the office. He planned to keep working on his projects remotely, even after his breakout. But, it was best to get as much done as he could while he was still here. There was a lot to do. Now that the satellites were in position, he and Valeria had tons of data to crunch. Don also had to get moving on the next phase of the project, which was figuring out where the Triceraton ships were heading, and how to stop them if they were coming back to earth.
He had a few thoughts about what he wanted to do, but working from home would be a lot harder. He planned to design a tracking and protection system, then send his designs to Bishop for construction. He was pretty sure that Bishop would go along with that, given that the safety of planet earth was everyone's top priority.
Bishop wouldn't just let Don get away either, particularly not when he was carrying such precious cargo. Don had a plan that he hoped would keep him safe after his escape. It involved blackmail, though. He needed to hack into a few more files tonight, while his security clearance was still in place. Don was pretty sure that Bishop would revoke it as soon as he was free.
Don was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands when Valeria found him. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You look like you ought to call it a night."
Don was tired, very much so, but there was too much that he needed to do in his last few hours here. He slowly lifted his head and let his hands fall to the desk, directing his blood-shot eyes to Valeria. "Does it ever all just… get to be too much for you?" he wondered.
"I see what's going on," Valeria announced. "You're stressed out. You jumped straight from satellite prep to defensive strategies without taking so much as a day off in between." Valeria put a hand on the troubled turtle's shoulder. "So, this is what a stressed turtle looks like."
Don was going to argue but the truth was that Valeria was right. She may be wrong about the reason, but her conclusion was certainly correct. "Stressed to the max," Donatello sighed.
"You should turn in early tonight. Have a nice relaxing evening. Until I'm done crunching the latest batch of data, there's nothing left for you to do around here anyway."
The funny thing was that no matter how stressed and exhausted he was, the last thing Donatello wanted to do was turn in early. He knew that his nerves would run wild if he had nothing to focus on. When he took too long formulating a response, Valeria added, "Or, I could drag you out."
"I'd like to see you try," Donatello automatically replied.
Valeria wriggled her fingers around her face. "Oh, look who's Mr. Tough Guy now. Well sir, I will have you know that I am scrappy."
"Scrappy, you say? Well, I'm a fully trained ninja so the smart money is on me, lady."
"Oh there's that old Donatello spark," Valeria teased. "All it took was a threat and the promise of violence."
"I don't like violence," Donatello countered. "I guess that threat that you leveled against me just… took my mind off things for a moment."
"Yup. You're a stressed turtle alright," Valeria declared. "Let's pack it in here and play hooky."
"You mean together?" Donatello balked.
"Why not? Do you have a better offer?"
"No. It's just that I can't leave this building," Donatello deflected.
"Stress eating in the cafeteria?" Valeria suggested.
Donatello's stomach was already churning enough with his usual nausea, the nerves of tonight's importance, and now the prospects of hanging out with his crush. He was on the verge of tossing his cookies as it was - the thought of all those cafeteria smells mixing together was too much. He took a deep swallow "mm-mm," he choked out through a closed mouth.
"That just leaves your place," Valeria deduced. Donatello was too dumbstruck to argue right away. "I have to admit that I've been curious about what the on-campus housing looks like."
Don was shocked that Valeria would want to be alone with him outside of work, but he couldn't think of a better way to spend what would hopefully be his last night at Area 51. "I guess that would be okay," he choked out. "My quarters are pretty barren, though."
"Guess it'll be a short tour, then," Valeria said as she opened the door.
Don stretched, then rose from his seat before leading Valeria down the hall. The guards gave them a strange look when he showed her to his quarters and closed the door behind them. Don got a kick out of that.
He gave Valeria the ten-cent tour. There really wasn't much to see.
"Wow, Don," Valeria mused. "This is like something out of the 1800s. I mean, where did they find an ice chest? Is there an ice chest manufacturer still in operation somewhere?"
"Thrift store, probably," Don guessed. "And did you get a load of the lights?"
Valeria looked up to the ceiling where the strange shuttered light-holes were housed. "They couldn't even trust you with a light bulb? I mean, what could you possibly do with a light bulb?"
Don shrugged. "A lot of things, probably. Admittedly, nothing comes to mind at the moment."
Valeria looked into the empty room, the one that Bishop had intended to be a nursery. "What's this room supposed to be?"
"Just extra space. I've been using it to exercise." It was a half-truth. Don did use it to train as much as he could. Otherwise, it did just sit there, unused.
"Gotta keep those ninja skills up," Valeria teased.
"That's right," Don assured her, fully aware that she was making gentle fun of him. Valeria had never seen him in action. He had told her some stories, but she liked to pretend that they were exaggerations.
"So what do you do around here after hours?" she asked.
"Read, plan, and sleep," Don replied.
"And train," Valeria corrected. "Sooo much ninja training in that empty room."
"My skills would blow your mind," Don playfully bragged. He realized too late how suggestive it must have sounded, particularly given that they were alone in his apartment.
"We'll just have to see about that," Valeria shot back.
Don didn't know what to make of that, but he found the breath leaving his body. The effect was amplified when she positioned her full lips right next to his ear.
"I know what you have planned for tomorrow," she whispered.
"Wha-what?" Don babbled.
"I know," she repeated, in a low voice. "I double check all of your coding, remember?"
Don fell into a barely-suppressed panic. He should've known that she'd catch him. He'd even considered telling her about his plans, but he was never completely sure that she could be trusted. Furthermore, he was afraid that it was too dangerous - not only for him but for her too. What now? Would she do something to stop him?
"You're a prisoner here, aren't you?" Valeria whispered. "That's why you didn't go home to see your brothers after the satellites were launched."
Don had never said outright that he was a prisoner, and in all this time, no one had asked. The story was that the guards were there for his protection. Don had never said anything to deny this, just as he had stayed tight-lipped about his forced pregnancy.
Don realized that Valeria was whispering so that they wouldn't be overheard. Maybe she was on his side. His heart rate slowed a little. "Yes," he whispered back. "And I really need to get home."
Valeria pulled back. "I know," she said. "I can see that now. I just wish you would've told me." Valeria cast her eyes around the room. More and more lately, she had suspected that her sweet friend wasn't here by choice. Seeing his barren, escape-proof quarters had only confirmed her suspicions.
Don looked Valeria in the eyes, the fear running through him was palpable.
"I didn't tell anyone," Valeria promised. "I would've helped. I still will, if you need me to."
Don dared to take her hand and squeeze it. "I will need help. You're the only one that I trust here."
"What do you need?" Valeria asked.
Don just smiled sadly. "I'll call in a few days," he murmured. "I can't tell you now." Don then said the next part in a normal tone of voice. "The Triceraton project is incredibly important to me. I'm going to see it through to the end."
Valeria nodded. "It's important to me too. This job is my life's purpose. Please tell me; Am I playing for the right team?"
Don realized how scared and off-kilter Valeria must be. She was here by choice, and she had assumed that he was too. It must have been earth-shaking for her to realize that her boss wasn't necessarily the hero that he claimed to be, to realize what Bishop was capable of. Don felt so sorry for her. She didn't even know the worst of it.
He squeezed her hand a little tighter. "You are," he promised. "The world isn't black and white; It's mostly grey. But, however imperfect it is, it's definitely worth protecting. In the end, that's all that EPF has ever tried to do. You're playing for the right team."
Valeria kept her eyes locked on him and slowly nodded. "Get some rest," she advised. "You'll need it."
Don gave her a sad smile, and the two parted with a hug.