Radical Transformation
Wednesday night was darker than the rest of the week. It was late, and the city was pretty quiet considering it's reputation and numbers. The night was cool, made even cooler by the breeze that floated around, and softly brushed against people's exposed faces. But only those people who were out and about at this time of the night.
All schools were closed, all shops were shut, and most people were in bed. But there were a whole group of black clad men, trained in the martial arts and making their way into an old, large warehouse; all followed one man, if he could be called one: Shredder.
Shredder could be unfair at times, sometimes when he's in a good mood. But hearing the disaster at the school, he was not in a happy one. Of course the news that two people escaped was no concern of his. He couldn't care less if they died, and from recent news just brought in by one of his troops, wished one of them HAD. No. What made him steam was that he entrusted this job of his to one of his Foot soldiers, and he makes a mess of it and get himself killed. That man was obviously no proper Ninja. The job was only half carried out, and in obvious blind panic of being seen, had caused his own death by staggering into the fire. Shredder wasn't happy. His enemies may now have guessed what it had all been for, and the true Ninja carries out an assassination properly, fading away, without a trace.
Now, Shredder paced the dark, cold, stone room he had dubbed his headquarters inside the warehouse. There was nothing in here except an old desk and an old, large chair. Nothing on the walls, nothing on the floor. And the only beings in there was him, and Tatsu, his second in command, who stood perfectly still, only his eyes moving as he watched his Master pace in the shadows.
"Idiot . . ." Shredder rasped in his deep voice. "Fool . . . I should not have sent an incompetent kid to do a Ninja's job . . ."
His cloak billowed behind him as he turned once more for another round of pacing.
"Now they know . . ." he carried on. "They'll be much more careful . . . much more . . . and it was a perfect chance while their defences were low!"
He slammed his fist down on the desk and remained there for a few seconds, in which time his cloak, which had been whirled about as he attacked the table, floated down noiselessly to the floor. Shredder stood up straight, but didn't continue his pacing.
Tatsu could not see his face, it was behind a metal mask anyway, but it was in shadows. Even though he did not look at Tatsu, Shredder's next question was aimed at him.
"Have you found this man yet?" He rumbled, keeping his voice controlled.
"Not yet," Tatsu replied quickly and gruffly. "Our scouts are searching the street every night."
"Good," Shredder said, more quietly. Then spoke up. "I want him found. He cannot leave this city . . . he must clear up this mess he has created . . . he has given my enemies more freedom. It is not good. He will not leave until he has set it right . . . he is searching for them, while they search for him . . . and when they find each other, will we have them both. One for the killing, and the other for my victory; I will take over this puny city, and it will be all too easy with the power he will give me . . ."
Shredder paused, and silence settled into the room. It didn't even look like the two were breathing. Nothing moved, but then Shredder turned and walked a few steps to his left, obvious to his posture he was thinking.
"Have our scouts identified ALL four . . . teenagers?" He asked.
"Yes Sir," Tatsu said, still standing perfectly still. "They are all identical, and are easily spotted . . . reports are they are in the company of a teenage girl . . . the one they saved."
Shredder was silent for a few seconds. "A girl . . ." His enemies were human now, so obviously they had made . . . friends . . . and this girl seemed to stand out. Maybe this could work to their advantage.
"This girl . . ." Shredder said. "Would be excellent bait for a trap . . . and given time, say a week or so, they will obviously . . . bond. That O'Neil woman is too well hidden, and well known . . . too much to bother with. The rat is protected under them as well . . . but the girl would be easy . . . all it takes . . . is time . . ."
Wednesday night was darker than the rest of the week. It was late, and the city was pretty quiet considering it's reputation and numbers. The night was cool, made even cooler by the breeze that floated around, and softly brushed against people's exposed faces. But only those people who were out and about at this time of the night.
All schools were closed, all shops were shut, and most people were in bed. But there were a whole group of black clad men, trained in the martial arts and making their way into an old, large warehouse; all followed one man, if he could be called one: Shredder.
Shredder could be unfair at times, sometimes when he's in a good mood. But hearing the disaster at the school, he was not in a happy one. Of course the news that two people escaped was no concern of his. He couldn't care less if they died, and from recent news just brought in by one of his troops, wished one of them HAD. No. What made him steam was that he entrusted this job of his to one of his Foot soldiers, and he makes a mess of it and get himself killed. That man was obviously no proper Ninja. The job was only half carried out, and in obvious blind panic of being seen, had caused his own death by staggering into the fire. Shredder wasn't happy. His enemies may now have guessed what it had all been for, and the true Ninja carries out an assassination properly, fading away, without a trace.
Now, Shredder paced the dark, cold, stone room he had dubbed his headquarters inside the warehouse. There was nothing in here except an old desk and an old, large chair. Nothing on the walls, nothing on the floor. And the only beings in there was him, and Tatsu, his second in command, who stood perfectly still, only his eyes moving as he watched his Master pace in the shadows.
"Idiot . . ." Shredder rasped in his deep voice. "Fool . . . I should not have sent an incompetent kid to do a Ninja's job . . ."
His cloak billowed behind him as he turned once more for another round of pacing.
"Now they know . . ." he carried on. "They'll be much more careful . . . much more . . . and it was a perfect chance while their defences were low!"
He slammed his fist down on the desk and remained there for a few seconds, in which time his cloak, which had been whirled about as he attacked the table, floated down noiselessly to the floor. Shredder stood up straight, but didn't continue his pacing.
Tatsu could not see his face, it was behind a metal mask anyway, but it was in shadows. Even though he did not look at Tatsu, Shredder's next question was aimed at him.
"Have you found this man yet?" He rumbled, keeping his voice controlled.
"Not yet," Tatsu replied quickly and gruffly. "Our scouts are searching the street every night."
"Good," Shredder said, more quietly. Then spoke up. "I want him found. He cannot leave this city . . . he must clear up this mess he has created . . . he has given my enemies more freedom. It is not good. He will not leave until he has set it right . . . he is searching for them, while they search for him . . . and when they find each other, will we have them both. One for the killing, and the other for my victory; I will take over this puny city, and it will be all too easy with the power he will give me . . ."
Shredder paused, and silence settled into the room. It didn't even look like the two were breathing. Nothing moved, but then Shredder turned and walked a few steps to his left, obvious to his posture he was thinking.
"Have our scouts identified ALL four . . . teenagers?" He asked.
"Yes Sir," Tatsu said, still standing perfectly still. "They are all identical, and are easily spotted . . . reports are they are in the company of a teenage girl . . . the one they saved."
Shredder was silent for a few seconds. "A girl . . ." His enemies were human now, so obviously they had made . . . friends . . . and this girl seemed to stand out. Maybe this could work to their advantage.
"This girl . . ." Shredder said. "Would be excellent bait for a trap . . . and given time, say a week or so, they will obviously . . . bond. That O'Neil woman is too well hidden, and well known . . . too much to bother with. The rat is protected under them as well . . . but the girl would be easy . . . all it takes . . . is time . . ."