CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SCENE OF THE CRIME

Raphael stood under the steady stream of hot water, his hands against the tile wall in front of him. He tensed as he heard the door open. "Raph?"

It was Leo. "Here," he called back.

The door closed again and there was nothing but the loud hiss of the water as it rushed over him. "Well?" Leonardo asked after a long pause.

"Well what?"

"Mica told me what you did this morning."

Raphael didn't answer. He half-expected a lecture. After all, he wasn't reporting to Leo to ask permission before making any move. He knew that would irritate him. He paused as he considered that for a moment. Why did that make any difference to him now? They weren't children anymore. They weren't a clan anymore, small as it had ever been, and Leo wasn't in charge.

"Did it work?" Leo pressed after getting no response.

"It will," Raph answered.

Leonardo leaned back against the sink. He knew Raphael was trying to use his brain, to avoid an all-out war. But it was so unlike him, it was scary. Why was it that the one time Leo wanted to do things in Raph's typical gung-ho fashion, Raphael wouldn't back him up? He considered that, and was startled by the realizations that came to mind. Somewhere along the line, sometime when he was far away on the other side of the country, Raphael had changed. Leo wasn't sure how, and he wasn't really even sure if he liked the change. But he was smart enough to know that he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"Raph," he started, nearly choking on his voice. "If we're gonna get him outta there alive, we need to work together. As a team. Now, can you, or can you not do that?"

Raphael sighed. "Leo, what gives you any idea that they will think twice about killing you, too?" He shut the water off and let it drip from his body. "We can work as a team, but you're staying as far away from that building as possible if I have to handcuff you to the kitchen table."

"I don't care what happens to me."

Raphael felt anger stir inside of him as he grabbed the towel draped over the shower curtain rod. "Well, that makes two of us. But let me remind you that there's a fourteen-year-old girl who cares a great deal about you and Donatello."

Leo looked down as the curtain was pulled aside, and felt shock radiate through him as he glanced back up. "What did you do?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"The hair coloring will wash out after a few times," Raphael answered. "And the tan will wear off." He stepped out of the shower. "I went there thinking I'd run into someone from the original experiment and they all know what I looked like. But they remember me with patches of dark hair and really pale skin."

"So who are you pretending to be?" Leonardo questioned.

"Mica's boyfriend."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Aren't you a little old?"

Raphael shrugged. "You'd be surprised what I can do with a little bit of makeup. Not like I look as old as I am anyway." Leo stepped aside as Raphael slid his hand over the mirror, wiping away the condensation. "I did a lot of undercover work in the police force," he explained. "They teach you how to change your appearance."

He ran his fingers through the spiked hair, inspecting it. "It's already starting to fade out," he observed.

"You cut it, too."

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled. "The blonde didn't look right with the cut I had. Not that I like this any better, but it fits the style I'm going for." He glanced at his brother. "Idiot teenage kids that bleach their hair and talk 'dude' to everyone they meet tend to have some weird hairstyles. Believe me, I know."

Leo smiled in spite of himself. "So what, exactly, is this plan of yours?"

Raphael grabbed his clothes off the sink and dressed quickly. "I don't know yet."

Leo reconsidered his earlier thought, that Raphael might be thinking things through more clearly. "You don't know?"

"We didn't talk much today," he explained. "I just wanted to give her something to think about. I gave her the number here to contact me, so if the phone rings don't answer it."

"You sure that was a good idea?" Leonardo questioned.

Raph grinned. "Relax, Leo. It's not like they don't know about this place already." He paused. "Speaking of which, did you guys ever get all the cameras out of here?"

Leonardo stared at him. "Cameras?"

Raphael sighed. "I'll take that as a no."

Fear crept into Leo's eyes and washed over his emotions. "You mean they could still be watching us?"

"I doubt it," Raphael mumbled. "The corresponding equipment was crushed in an earthquake fifteen years ago. And I don't imagine it works too well with their modern stuff."

Raph towel dried his hair and turned to his brother. "Hey Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"How did they find him?"

Leonardo paused. "I don't really know. He'd been spending a lot of time talking to someone on the internet and we assumed he was going to meet... him or her. He never came back."

Raphael considered that. "How did you find out, then?"

Leo's eyes dropped. "Witnesses. After they talked and the other guy left, military guys busted in and 'arrested' him. It was on the news. They wrote it off as apprehending a suspected terrorist."

"Did he fight?"

"No. There were civilians all over the place. And they were in an art museum."

Raphael sighed. "You don't know anything about who he was meeting with?"

"Dark hair, looked oriental... Someone said he spoke in another language and I'd be willing to bet it was Japanese. And he'd already left when they attacked Donny."

"Could've been anyone," Raph mumbled.

"Yes, it could have."

"I'm gonna go pull some strings," Raphael sighed. "See if I can find out who he was talking to. You need to get ahold of some antibiotics and home heavy-duty painkillers. And set up an easy way in to either a blood bank or a hospital. If we get Donny out of there, he's gonna need some serious medical attention. And you need to be prepared for the idea that we might not be able to do anything for him regardless."

"I know that," Leo answered coldly.

"I figured you did."

***

"S'cuse me."

The woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"My name's Ryan Collins and I'm with the police department." He flashed his badge at her, too quickly for her to read it. He doubted she'd question the slight difference in uniform, either. "We're looking for a suspected terrorist that might have been here last week. Do you mind if I take a look at your security tapes from last Thursday?"

"Uh, no, not at all," she answered, concerned. "Cindy?" She turned and looked over her shoulder at another woman who looked up. "Can you take the desk for a minute? I'll be right back."

"No problem."

Ryan followed behind the woman to the security room, and stood back as she talked quietly with a uniformed security officer. A moment later, he was approached by the man. "Was there something you were wanting to see?"

"Yeah, Ryan Collins, NYPD," he smiled politely, flashing his badge. "I need to see your security tapes from January tenth. We're investigating a possible terrorist connection with a man who might have come in here around three o'clock."

He eyed Raphael suspiciously. "There was an arrest made here at about that time by the US Marshalls."

Raph nodded. "Yes, I'm aware of that. The man we're after may have been talking to him shortly before that. We want him for questioning."

He considered that for a moment before finally deciding that he believed it. "Why don't you step in here," he offered.

Raphael followed him into a smaller room and his eyes played over the wall of monitors. "Were you on duty when the arrest was made?" he questioned.

"As a matter of fact, I was," the officer mumbled. "It actually happened closer to three thirty."

"Which room?"

He thumbed through the rack of tapes. "4-B," he answered. "It's where we keep ancient South American artifacts."

"Did you see the arrest?"

"Of course."

"And do you know if his partner had already left the building at that time, or had they just recently parted?"

"That I wouldn't know," he mumbled, slipping the tape into the player. "This is the only angle that catches the arrest, though."

Raphael watched as a dark-clad figure walked down the wide hallway. His head was down, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Raph could tell by the strange bulge in the jacket who he was looking at. It was definately Donatello, alone and weaponless. He watched Donny freeze, and look up slowly past the camera. A little girl nearby looked like she screamed, and she pressed close to her mother. Donatello slowly took his hands out of his pockets and looked around, as if he were sizing up his opponents. He put his hands behind his head and two figures with guns stepped forward to handcuff him. He complied, staring into what looked like a dozen or more guns. They were off camera and Raphael couldn't really see them. After a moment, they turned and led him away, handcuffed. Just that easy. Raph felt anger stir inside of him, but forced it aside.

"Okay, I need you to roll back," he mumbled. "I need to follow his route through the museum."

"Well, that's gonna take some time," the man answered. "I mean, each one of these tapes shows a different room."

"I've got all day," Raphael mumbled. "And I'm familiar with your equipment if you wanna just point out which tapes are from that day." The security officer looked skeptical. "Or you could just copy each one of them for me and I can come back tomorrow to get them. With a warrant, maybe?"

***

Raphael's phone cut through the silence like a knife. He jumped, startled, then picked it up. "Speak."

"Raph, it's me."

"Hey, Mica, what's up?"

"Where are you?"

"Watching security tapes from the museum," he answered. "Bored out of my skull."

"You just got a call here from Catherine Richardson."

He sighed. "Yeah, you weren't supposed to answer that."

"Well nobody told me that!" she cried. "How was I supposed to know?"

"What'd she say?" he asked, shuttling back through the minutes on the VCR. He found where Don entered the room, and saw that he was still alone. Damn. His friend had been gone for a long time.

"She said her team is interested in meeting you. Wanted to know when you could come up there."

"What'd you tell her?"

"That I'd deliver the message."

"She ask who you were?"

"Yeah."

"And you told her...?"

"Your girlfriend."

"Good. Let's keep her thinking that way. She give you a number where I could call her back?"

"Uh, no, she said just... show up. Before midnight, because I guess that's when everyone goes home."

"Sounds about right."

He followed Donny back through another room and stopped the tape to play it forward slow. "So tell me something," he mumbled. "Since I'm bored half to death and all for a few minutes of small talk."

"What?" Mica chuckled.

"How is your name Mica Jones?"

She sighed. "When my mother went away, she signed over legal guardianship to Casey and his wife. So that I could go to school and live a life without her. She couldn't exactly sign me over to Leo."

He could hear the bitterness in her voice. "So technically, your guardians are Casey and Breanne."

"I don't even know Casey and Breanne," she mumbled. "They're just the people that sign things for me. And come pick me up when I get in trouble."

"So why don't the police call them?"

"Because Leonardo wants to know when I get in trouble," she mumbled. "I hate it. It's so stupid."

Raphael smiled and played back to another room. Donny stopped next to a man and stood there for a moment, speaking with him. "Finally," Raph mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Mica asked.

"I got Donny talking to our mystery guest," he informed. "Now I just gotta get a clear shot of him."

"What's he look like?"

"Dunno," Raph muttered, struggling to hold the cell phone with his shoulder. He stopped the tape and let it play. "It's in black and white and kinda fuzzy. I gotta still a picture before I can enhance it."

The man glanced in the direction of the camera and Raph froze the picture instantly. "Think I got it," he informed. "Just gotta clean it up a bit."

Mica waited patiently, saying nothing. "He's definately Japanese," Raph concluded as the zoomed in picture focused. "Thirty-three maybe, clean-cut, wearing a black suit."

He played the video again and watched carefully. He noted when the mystery guest tensed as someone walked into the room behind him. It was just a slight change. Not even a movement, really. His eyes shifted, as did Donatello's, and his hands dropped loosely to his sides. It was not a threatening stance, by any means. But it was obvious that he was alert. Ready to fight. There was no way he could've seen her. And to be that alert and be warned by sound, he would've turned to look in her direction. It was instinct. But it had been overridden. Raphael had a feeling he knew exactly how.

"And actually..." Raphael started hesitantly, watching as he remained ready until the woman walked out of the room. "I think he's a ninja."