Death and Dishonor Part 1
KATARINA:
I had nowhere to go. My apartment was in shambles, and I dared not go back to the underground lair. I considered April, but quickly decided against it. She was their friend, foremost. I wasn't going to put her in the middle of this. So I did the only thing I could do. I got on a plane.
It was only a forty minute flight, but I chose that over the two and a half hour drive. My father didn't care how I spent his money; he never had. So I got on the plane and went home. Home. I hated to think of my father's "empire" as home. A piece of property out in the middle of nowhere, bought with blood-money and cultivated by his troops. The government knew it was there, but they had no reason to be interested in it. Nobody else knew it existed. It had taken five years for him to establish his village. Now it swarmed with ninjas who paid him tribute and fought his battles. I hated it.
I took a cab from the airport to the lone house that was our contact point. There, I left the driver with a handful of cash and a wave, and walked around the abandoned home. It was three miles to my destination, along a well-hidden, but worn path through the woods.
Raphael would never find them. And it was only a matter of time before they found him, with or withhout my help. He couldn't possibly overpower my father's anger. My father would go himself if he had to. Raphael didn't stand a chance against him on his own, especially not while he was hurt. He'd fight, though. He'd fight to the death.
I breathed deep, taking in the damp air. They wouldn't kill him. My father wanted all of them alive, to ship them off to Houston. Blood money. Four million dollars worth of blood money. But I figured the cash had very little to do with it. My father would send them down there if he wasn't getting paid for it. He wanted them dead, and if he could get the satisfaction of knowing that they would be dissected afterwards, I had no doubt that he'd be all for it. If he had the opportunity to put them through that kind of humiliation, even posthumously, he would.
I stared at the ground as it passed under my feet, and my thoughts drifted to Raphael. Tears stung my eyes. It was like a dream, with him. Like the world had stopped, leaving us in it. He'd allowed me to forget who, and what I was, for the first time in my life. Stop it, Kiara, I chastised myself. You're only the hundredth girl he's tried to get into bed. What makes you think he cares any more about you than any of them?
Even hearing the words resonate in my mind, I knew they were wrong. If he didn't care, he would be furious. He would have thrown me out of his house; he wouldn't speak to me again except to demand that I tell him where his brothers were. But he hadn't. I remembered the look in his eyes as he stood in the edit bay at Channel Three. It was dangerous for him to be there. But he had to talk to me. Why, dammit?
It wasn't about his brothers. The first words out of his mouth: Are they alive? They were alive. And suddenly, that seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind. Why? And I stood there, trying to justify actions I didn't understand. It wasn't about duty, for me. I wasn't like Madonna. I wanted to kill them. Because I wanted to prove my father wrong. But he wasn't wrong. Every accusation he'd ever made, he was right.
No!
I'd fallen in love with the enemy, and I couldn't control that. My emotions were out of control, and they influenced my actions. I couldn't stop. I loved him.
Dammit, stop this!
My subconscience hated admitting this weakness. Frail, pitiful woman. Emotional and easily manipulated. I was. And there was nothing I could do about it, so I knew I might as well stop running from it. I had to embrace my weakness to find my strength. I took a deep breath, knowing what I had to do. I had to make a choice. But really, the decision had already been made.
MADONNA:
"You did what?" I whispered.
She turned to the window and ran her fingers through her hair. "I know, Madonna, I know," she sighed.
I stared at her, shocked. "This from the girl who wants to prove her father wrong in everything he's ever..."
"He's right, okay?" she shot at me, spinning around to face me. "I'm weak, I'm emotional, and I can't control this."
I shook my head slowly, in disbelief. She turned back to the window and raised her arm against the frame, resting her head. There was a moment of silence. "I need you to help me," she whispered.
"To do what?" I choked.
"I need you to distract my father."
Shock. That was all I felt. "Distract...? Kat, you can't be serious!"
She turned to me, pain streaking her face. "Madonna, please."
"You can't dishonor your father like that! For one thing, he'll kill you!"
"I don't care, okay?" she yelled. "I don't. Care! I don't care if he kills me! This is wrong! You can't tell me you don't know that!"
"Kat, stop," I cut her off, a million thoughts running through my mind. I turned away from her. "I just need a minute to think."
I needed more than a minute to think. I needed a lifetime! Never in a million years had I expected those words to come from Kiara. The woman who had spent countless conversations warning me about Leo, reminding me that when Shredder found out, it would be over, pounding it into my head that I could never be with him... this same woman had fallen in love with Leonardo's brother? Katarina did not do such things! She'd never had a boyfriend in her life! It was her vow, that she would prove her father wrong. That she could survive without a man. How had she ended up with her father's enemy?
Surely she knew what she was proposing. She was not only failing her father, she was prepared to deliberately disobey him. To dishonor him. I considered my own father, as he'd given his last words, forever joining me to a man I never loved. I considered the long talks with Leonardo. Death before dishonor. He understood my decision. But I could not understand Kiara's.
My thoughts came to a screeching halt as they rested on Leonardo. I hated the thought of what might happen to him. But there was nothing I could do. I closed my eyes. "You would dishonor your father?" I whispered. "Betray him?"
"Yes," Kat answered firmly.
The word cut through me, sending a whole new wave of emotions over me. I fought frantically to sort through them. "And there's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise." It wasn't a question. I knew Katarina too well to think that there was anything I could say that would change her mind once it was made up.
"No," she confirmed.
I breathed deep, my eyes still closed. "Get out," I ordered.
She hesitated. "Madonna..."
"I said get out," I shot at her, raising my eyes to hers. "I don't want to know what you're going to do," I informed her. "I don't want to know how." I studied her eyes and the desperate, pleading look hidden behind them. "Just do it."
"You'll help me, then?"
"Get out."
She knew. She hugged my neck as she passed. "I love you, Madonna."
I felt tears sting my eyes as I watched her go to her death and dishonor.
MICHAELANGELO:
I awoke with a splitting headache, and moaned as the pain registered. "Mikey?"
The familiar voice cut through the darkness. Donatello. He was alive. That was good, at least. I realized I was tied, my arms above my head. My wrists hurt like hell, my muscles were all sore. Pain centered around two thin lines of dried blood, on my arm and leg, and I remembered how I'd gotten here. Where was here, anyway?
I opened my eyes. My vision was still blurred. I saw the fuzzy outlines of Donny and Leo, hanging like I was, and closed my eyes again. "Ow," I groaned.
"You okay, bro?" Donny questioned.
"I've been better," I admitted. I forced my eyes open a second time and looked around as my sight cleared. "Where are we?"
"Your guess is as good as ours."
"What happened?" Leo asked. "And where's Raphael?"
I struggled to distinguish between memories and the dreams that had plagued my sleep. I pictured the face of my attacker, the one who'd brought me here, and I moaned. "Kat," I breathed.
"Yeah, we know," Donny mumbled.
I coughed weakly, still not feeling fully conscious, and briefly explained how I'd ended up here. "Raphael," Leonardo reminded me.
"I dunno," I admitted. "He was asleep on the couch the last time I saw him."
There was a moment of silence. "If they had him, he'd be here," Donny tried to justify.
The soft brush of padded footsteps on the cement floor caught our attention. A dark haired woman in black jeans and a T-shirt, stepped into the room. Instantly, I felt my blood boil. "You!" I glared. There was nothing for me to say, but I wanted to rip her apart.
She glanced at me, and then at my brothers. Her face was absent of emotion. I had no idea what she was thinking, but I could guess. "Is he alive, Kiara?" Leo asked weakly.
"Raphael?" she questioned, setting a small box on the floor. Leonardo didn't answer. In his eyes, I saw the same anger as I felt. "He's alive, Leo," she said, her voice emotionless. "And in much better shape than you are."
"You played us, Kat," I shot at her, anger choking my voice. "We trusted you and you betrayed us."
She stared at me for a moment, then walked over to where I hung. I tensed, realizing that I was defenseless. What did it matter, anyway? We were all as good as dead here. She raised her hand to the side of my face. Her soft skin felt cool on mine. I glared at her, inches away, and tears began to cloud my vision. How could she do it? We'd trusted her! How could she betray us like that?
"I'm sorry, Michaelangelo," she whispered softly. She leaned into me and kissed my cheek. Anger overwhelmed me. She was sorry. Like hell she was sorry!
I heard an unfamiliar jingling sound, and she raised her hands to mine. I stared at her, immediately on heightened alert. What the hell? "Be quiet," she instructed quietly. I heard metal touch metal, and a muffled clanking sound. My arms fell and I quickly grasped the fence to keep from falling forward. My feet were still tied, and I needed the fence to stay upright. I stared at her, dumbfounded as she produced a small knife and sliced through the ropes around my ankles. Then she stood before me, and handed me the knife.
"Do you want to kill me, Michaelangelo?" she questioned. "Or do you want to free your brothers?" A long silence. I stared at her, dumbfounded. "Your choice."
The look in her eyes shocked me into silence. She was totally serious. She turned her back on me and walked to Leonardo. He nearly fell on top of her, unable to stand, and I helped him steady himself against the fence. He slid to the floor, moaning quietly, and Kat moved to Donatello. "You okay?" I asked Leo, kneeling next to him. I was sore, but I couldn't imagine what he was feeling.
He nodded once, his eyes closed, and I rose again to my feet. Donatello slumped to the floor, too. I studied Katarina for a moment before handing her the knife back. She placed it on her belt and walked over to the box she'd left at the door. She pulled out two water bottles, filled with a clear, greenish-brown liquid. She shook them, and handed one to each of my brothers. "Drink this," she ordered. "It'll numb the pain a little."
She offered one to me, but I refused. "You sure?" she asked. "It's not going to be easy getting out of here."
"I'm sore," I admitted. "But I can fight. I'll be okay."
"Drink the damn tea, Mike," Leo ordered weakly.
I glanced at him, and I had to smile. Half-dead, and he was still giving orders. I took the bottle and she stood to her feet, brushing her hands together. "Rest here," she mumbled. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I have to take care of something real quick," she answered. "You should be safe for a few minutes. No one will come in here."
I wasn't exactly sure I believed her, but I wasn't going to argue. She cast one more concerned glance down at us, and walked away.
SHREDDER:
I felt Madonna enter the room, but didn't allow the distraction as I continued, slowly, through the kata. Perfect. Measured. Practiced. And painfully slow. I breathed deep, and concentrated on the darkness. Finally, the movement stopped, and I opened my eyes. I turned to the door. "You are not permitted in here," I reminded her. "No one is allowed."
"Yes," she whispered meekly, bowing. "I know. Forgive me."
She was wearing a long, black robe, her hair hanging loosely around her face. She was easily forgiven. Besides, it was not as if she hadn't seen me unmasked a thousand times before. "What do you want?" I asked.
She approached slowly, and dropped to her knees in front of me. "Forgiveness, Master," she breathed, her head bowed.
I studied her carefully. "Forgiveness for what?"
She breathed deep. "I've thought a great deal in these past hours," she choked. "About you, and about your enemies. And about my betrayal. I have dishonored my father and you, and now I beg for your forgiveness."
She touched her forehead to the floor at my feet, and waited. I smiled at her submission as she bowed before me. "Stand up," I instructed after a moment of silence.
She rose slowly to her feet, but kept her eyes to the floor. "Look at me."
She caught her breath, and slowly turned her blue-green eyes to mine. I studied her for a moment. Tears threatened to overflow. "I am sorry, Master," she whispered.
I hid a smile as I raised my hands to the sides of her face and pulled her lips to mine.
KIARA:
"Why do you need them?" the boy demanded.
I spun and gripped him by the throat, pinning him to the wall. The boy was no older than fourteen, and I didn't really want to hurt him. But I would, if he got in my way. Those around him sprang to attention and I glared at them as they threatened to attack. "Would you dare to strike your master's daughter?" I demanded.
Fists unclenched and stances relaxed, and I turned my attention to the boy. "Give me. The keys."
He pulled a set of keys off of his belt and pressed them into my hand. I released him, allowing him to gasp for air. The four soldiers guarding the door stepped aside and I turned the key. The room was dark, and dangerous. I could smell the death and destruction in the air as I closed the door behind me and reached for the lightswitch.
I had been in this room twice before. It was an arsenal, large enough to fill one of the many bedrooms in my father's house. He was in this very structure, somewhere. I didn't want to think where. Regardless, I was safe for the moment.
Light glinted off of the array of weapons. I knew what I was looking for, and I found everything with no trouble. As I was leaving, a weapon not on my list caught my eye. I set down what I was carrying, and reached for the three-pronged short sword. I ran my fingers over the smooth metal, and considered him. Where was he, right now? Was he angry? Sad? I'd left him before I could really tell. I rested my forehead on the metal rack and stroked the sais with my fingertips, painfully embracing the idea that I might never know. That I might never see him again.
I took a step back, slipping the weapon into my belt, and picked up the pile I'd come for. I hit the light on my way out.
MADONNA:
His fingers parted the robe and slid along my skin. I wished for a clock, so I could see how long I had to keep him here. I wished for this to be over. I wished for death. I didn't want to live a life with him, but there was no way to escape. I had tried that, and I had ended up in a great deal of pain, not to mention resting on the verge of dishonor. Death before dishonor; and death was what I craved. Seppuku, perhaps. Ritual suicide. I understood the concept. But my mission on this earth was not over. It would be soon. But right now, I had to keep him here, to keep him distracted.
I kissed him deeply and arched into his touch. How long, Kiara? How long do you need? God, it was wrong to help her. I knew it was wrong. But what could I do? I had already gone as far as I was prepared to go to assist my husband in something I had never believed was right. I would not sacrifice Katarina as well. If such a refusal was dishonorable, then let me plead for honor in my death.
I heard Leonardo's voice cut through my thoughts as the harsh, powerful hands roamed over me, violating me.
"I love you, Madonna," he whispers, stroking my hair gently as I lay next to him.
"I love you, too."
"No, really. I mean that." He shifts and I open my eyes to see him bent over me. I feel overtaken by the soft, gentle look in his eyes. "Not just... as something you say."
I smile up at him. "I know," I sigh. "I can tell."
He touches my face gently. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he breathes, leaning down to capture my lips again.
And I can't breathe. His kiss, so unlike Leonardo's, rapes me of whatever innocence I had once possessed. I feel pain as he grips me tightly. Tears fill my eyes. Dishonor...
Suddenly, I understood where my honor had really been lost.
LEONARDO:
She laid the weapons on the floor. "Can you use them?" she asked quietly.
I nodded slowly. The pain was beginning to subside, but I was still stiff. I hadn't moved in... how many days? I'd lost count. I hadn't eaten in that long, either. My present weakness was a result of a lot of different factors. I raised the bitter drink to my lips again. It was helping, although I still felt like hell.
"Where is Raphael?" I asked.
"I don't know,"she admitted.
"You should have brought him. It would've been easier."
"I would have been difficult to get him here."
"You could have acted like you'd taken him prisoner," Donny suggested.
She shook her head. "They would have drugged him, like they did you. And he's hurt, besides."
"How hurt?"
"His arm is cut," she mumbled. "About six inches. He says it doesn't hurt, but I know he's lying. And at any rate, I never could've gotten him on the plane."
"How far away are we?" Mike asked.
"About a two and a half hour drive. Forty minute flight."
I tried to move my arms and legs. They responded, but with a great deal of pain. Everything in me wanted to just sit here. But I knew I couldn't do that. I reached above me and grabbed the fence behind us. I stood slowly, half-pulling myself up. Kat and Mike both rose to help steady me, but I waved them away. "I'm alright," I gasped, gripping the fence tightly. I breathed deep for a moment and saw Mike offer Donny a hand. He pulled him to his feet and the two of us stood still, gasping for breath as our bodies rebelled against the orders we gave.
Kat knelt again, and gathered the shaken and caltrops, hiding them somewhere in her outfit. I wasn't quite sure where. I didn't care. I leaned back against the fence as the throbbing, aching pain slowly subsided. I'd never been anywhere near this sore.
"Try it?" Mike offered quietly. I opened my eyes and saw him holding out the katana. I groaned inwardly. I didn't want to move, much less fight.
I took the weapon slowly and it almost slipped from my hand. God, it was heavy. I leaned back on the fence for support and gripped the hilt with both hands, getting used to the weight. I stayed like that for a moment, then slowly pushed off of the fence. I stood, holding the weapon in front of me and suddenly, I felt a ray of hope. We just might get out of this alive.
SHREDDER:
I left Madonna on the floor of the training room and took a shower. Then I tried calling Kiara. She did not answer. That was not surprising. She had been recently ignoring me, even to the point of sending Madonna to ask for what she needed, rather than to come herself. It was time I made another trip to the city.
My second-in-command was standing in my hallway. "Master Shredder," he bowed. "I was looking for you."
I nodded in reply. "As I was you," I mumbled.
"You spoke yesterday of an attack," he reminded me. "On the place where the turtles stay, to get the last one. Do you know where they stay?"
"I must speak to my daughter," I informed him. "But she is not returning my calls."
"Your daughter is here," he told me.
I was shocked. Why had she not first reported to me? "Is she?" I challenged.
He nodded. "She has just visited the weapons arsenal not more than an hour ago."
I tensed. She knew better than to go there without first getting approval from me. "The weapons arsenal?" I questioned.
He nodded again. "Yes, Master."
The realization hit me with the force of a tsunami. "What weapons did she take?" I demanded.
He stared at me for a moment. "I do not know. I was not there. I only heard of it from the guards."
Anger flooded through me. "Bring them to me," I ordered. "And send someone to check on the freaks."
"I already have," he assured me.
"And have they reported back?"
He stared for a moment, dumbfounded. I pushed past him and left the house quickly. At the end of the dirt road that split the tiny village, a large, strong building stood. The men guarding the door bowed as they opened the door for me. I didn't heed them. I proceeded through the darkness with a determined step. No sound came from the dark rooms that held our fortunes, piled high from countless raids on New York City. Finally, a door of reinforced steel. It stood slightly ajar, and I breathed deep, containing my anger.
Beyond the door, a short hallway, and a large room. I flicked the light on. The floor was littered with soldiers, all either unconscious or dead. I did not care which. Fury flooded through me as I saw the empty bonds. I clenched my fist. "Find them," I growled. "Kill them. And bring my daughter to me."
"Yes, Master."
