"Mike," he shuddered letting his body slump awkwardly against the cement. After a moment of random and empty gazing, trying to snag a thought, any thought, a metal glow caught in the garage opening's beam stole his attention. Don struggled to his feet and stumbled towards it. Upon arriving at the source, the mutant gave a hoarse laugh.
"I'm coming buddy!"
He hoisted himself up on the wing of a small plane and roughly planted himself in the cock pit.
"Just hang on."
Donatello examined the panel within the light that had turned on as he opened the door. He had tried several flight simulators before, but this really was a bizarre and erratic choice, especially for him. What did he know about actual flying? The replay of that helicopter thrumming away with its cargo set his jaw firm, and the seatbelt was cinched and clicked into place. He focused on the panel again, giving each gauge, switch, lever, and button critical attention. After aligning most of the instruments with his knowledge attained by the flight simulators, he turned a key and deftly flicked a single switch.
The engine sprang to life as the propellers turned hesitantly before blurring into motion. Donatello let his hand rest on a single lever directly in the center. His heart was pumping wildly, nerves rushing and scrambling. With a slow exhale that strained his chest, he slowly pushed it forward while turning the steering handles toward the opening. The plane jerked and rolled forward obediently. Encouragement sprang to the fore as Don pushed the lever as far as it would go. The basement became a blur on the side, as he honed in on the opening. The windshield's view wavered back and forth as his hands quivered on the steering handles. Steady. Smooth and straight. The blood was slapping against his insides now. The plane veered in his panic. You can do this, you MUST do this!
The machine gave a bounce, attempting to separate from the asphalt. Just a bit further! It gave large and increasingly violent bucks. Don brought the handles toward him until it nearly touched his plastron. The plane lifted once more with a wobble. Don waited for another impact with the ground, but it didn't come. He looked to each wing. They soared through the garage opening and gleamed in the sunlight. Donatello gave a hearty whoop. He did it! The turtle quickly wiped the sweat accumulating on his hands away and thrust the handles forward in determination. Mike's search and rescue was on its way!
Raphael and Leonardo stood side by side heaving for oxygen. They had been backed into a corner in the surrounding halls on the same floor. Although Foot soldiers cluttered the ground, many more seemed to take each one's place.
"Back off!" Raph growled holding his bloodied sais out threateningly.
As if to smite him, one separated from the crowd and rushed forward. Leo's muscles tensed then sprang in a round house kick. His leg sliced through the air, and the mutant nearly stumbled missing the target. The soldier stepped back avoiding the kick then charged forward throwing his weight into an outstretched leg. Just as Leo completed his turn, the soldier's kick impacted him directly in the chest.
Raph dropped another man, killing him swiftly with a sai prong scraped across his throat. He flipped around hearing a sudden clatter of glass just as Leonardo crashed through a nearby window shell first. Dropping his weapons, Raph immediately sprawled through the hole created by his brother and reached out. He gave out a surprised yelp as his hand was firmly grasped also yanking him forward. Raphael anchored himself quickly with his knees against the ledge to accommodate the new weight.
"LEO! Hang on!"
His brother dangled helplessly over a dizzying expanse. A street far below writhed with cars, merely dots at this height. They beeped and sped along completely oblivious to the drama above.
Leo looked down and quickly snapped his neck back to Raphael looking ashen.
"Don't let go!" Raph screamed.
Leo gripped his aching fingers tighter, but the movement slipped him further away from Raph's hold, lubricated by sweat.
"I said HOLD ON, damn it!" Raph reached over with his other head to snag Leo's wrist.
He could feel the soldiers on the inside prodding his legs with weapons and attempting to pull him back in. He kicked them away brutally and emerged completely out on the narrow ledge. Raphael stood slowly transferring Leo's added strain to his thighs. Every muscle trembled with exertion, his teeth clamped and eyes shut. Hearing a strange hum, however, he chanced opening his eyes and looking towards the sound. A helicopter was rising fast and skirting very close to the building.
"Master Shredder, look!" The pilot glanced over his shoulder where Oraku Saki was seated comfortably in the back. He looked out the window and sat back looking amused.
"Get as close to them as you can."
"The pilot nodded under his helmet and pulled the machine towards the mutants.
"Let's give them a lift home, shall we?" A raspy chuckle.
The pilot over shot them and let the dangling cement block rest close by without hitting the building.
Raphael saw his chance. He swung Leo out to the platform before giving a wild leap himself. Once they were aboard, the helicopter soared away, lifting high above the buildings of New York City.
Raph collapsed against the cement. Glancing over he could see Leo looking peaceful upon the bliss of feinting. The single arm he had clung to desperately dangled at an odd angle, looking barely attached to the torso. Raphael winced and stared upward at the whirring blades above the helicopter's belly. Where ever the hell they were going or how didn't matter. They had survived.
Donatello monitored his instruments occasionally between listening to air traffic over the radio and observing his surroundings in the sky. By tying his bandana in loop and dangling it over the center lever, he was able easily maintain the plane's balance. Whenever the bandana tipped too far forward or back, Don would ease the steering handles in the opposite direction until it was centered once again.
He kept his plane far back so as to not be sighted by his target. He'd spotted the helicopter shortly after barging out of Foot Headquarters and had followed it since. Judging from the northeastern course shown by his compass, they were headed directly for New Hampshire. Donatello found this unsettling to say the least. Had one of his brothers admitted to Splinter, April, and Casey's location? He doubted it. Perhaps they already knew. Whatever they were up to, Don would be just a step behind to stop them this time.
Despite his worries, he was immensely enjoying his first piloting experience. It was everything he dreamed it to be, if not more. The sky was crystal blue. Refreshing clouds hovered close. He could see their large shadows cascaded down on the land looking green and peaceful below. Everything in the air seemed perfect and serene.
Donatello suddenly straightened in his seat. The black dot ahead was dropping. Don leapt to attention and began lowering his plane as well. His nerves frayed again. Where could he land? Would they see him? Why were they stopping here? He looked down again at the ground zooming closer and closer. This was definitely New Hampshire. He recognized the relatively rural area, large spaces and fields filled the gaps between buildings and roads. He'd have to select one for landing, and fast.
The plane's nose dipped suddenly, and Don grabbed the handles trying to maintain a frustrating balance that had been so easy just moments before. The air pocket passed, and he kept it level now with some ease. Up ahead, he chose a fence line and flew along it in parallel. Easing the lever back now, the machine slowed. Pushing a set of buttons, the belly of the plane groaned letting wheels emerge and stretch out. This was it! Couldn't be as hard as taking off! Don latched to that thought and focused to his task at hand. The wheels skidded against the ground with a burst of dirt. The wings sliced through a tall, golden wheat field, and the chopped pieces exploded in the air like fireworks. The plane bumped and hopped while the insides vibrated uncomfortably.
Keeping his patience, he continued to ease the level slow. There was a blood-curdling scrape as a barb-wire fence broke over the plane's nose and tangled in the propellers. It gave a fantastic lurch before halting. Donatello twisted the key and flipped the switch. He jumped out with a satisfied expression.
So it wasn't a perfect landing, but he thought he'd at least get Evil Knievel's approval.
No matter, the farm house was just ahead. He dashed through the fields, the wheat whipping his skin. Jumping clean over several fences and a stream, he finally settled on the right plot of land. The house loomed closer, but there were no signs of a helicopter or any other disturbances.
Donatello burst through the door panting. He was surprised to find Leo and Raphael passed out on the floor in the middle of the room. They looked tangled and broken. Checking their pulses with the affirmative of life, he explored further.
"April? Casey? Hello!" His voice felt eerie in the quiet home. No answer.
He reached out his hand for the door knob, petrified of what lay behind this door. What had happened here in the solitary house while they were away fending for their lives? Curiosity got the better of him as it often did, and he stepped in.
The turtle's breath suddenly hitched and he fell to the floor gasping at the sight. Clambering to his knees, he moved to the bedside shaking with horror. The sheets were tie-dyed a dirty brown with dried blood. The figure in the center lay lifeless and empty. Its eyes stared at the ceiling clouded over with death, the jaw agape as if locked into an eternal scream.
Trembling, Don picked up a bloodied knife on the bed stand. Below it, a message was crudely etched into the wood.
BEHOLD YOUR HONOR