Days until Trial – 7
Current Status of Witness – Alive, in transit
Location – New York City
"Heads up Don!" Ducking beneath the swinging arm the purple clad turtle gave a small nod to his youngest brother. Sweeping his bo down in a smooth arc he smiled slightly when the sleek hard wood connected with the knees of the Foot soldier. Rising up he glanced across the small battlefield he and his brothers had initiated.
To his right Raphael and Casey were working together as a very odd, slightly unhinged, tag-team. As had become the custom with the two hot heads one would pound whilst the other would cut off any and all attempts at exit. When one poor man finally folded into the ground they would separate out before inexplicably coming back together to help the other out once again. Watching Casey launch into a devastating drop kick his attention had to be drawn once again to the battle field by the ever moving, ducking and weaving Michelangelo.
Blocking the swinging scythes with his staff, the weakest turtle reluctantly gave on his ground as a second soldier joined the first to add weight to the blocking weapon that hovered just above his shoulders. Gritting his teeth, Don finally relented, bending at the legs to roll and flip the two men over his head and onto the floor. Fearing a beating from the remaining soldiers, his worst dreams were averted by the 'tag-team of doom' the rich orange light that flooded the night sky glinting off the sides of the flying sai that sliced through the air above his face to drive off one such threat. There was Raphael. The sound of grit being crushed under foot crept up on his right side, along with the imposing shadow that belonged to Casey Jones. Picking up his weapon he offered one end of the stick to the turtle.
"Don … this aint no time to be nappin'." Casey's good natured, slightly unhinged smile rained down at him, before his eyes jerked up, the friendly look vanishing to be replaced by a hard, heartless ruthlessness. Swinging his hockey stick round in a sharp, violent arc, Donny winced as the sound of cracking ribs reverberated through the air.
"Case! Yo Case!" Casey's stress levels were going through the roof these days, as such his attack on the few Foot that were flooding intermittently through the streets were of a more violent, physical nature. Everyone, even Raph, had noted that. "Back it up!"
Clambering to his feet it was time to take account for all that were present. Donny couldn't help it, he was by his very nature inquisitive about so many things, just because he was on a battlefield didn't change that. Letting out a long sigh he made a mental note, Casey stood inches from Don's right, his partner in crime lurking somewhere to the middle turtles rear. Mikey was picking himself up off the floor a proud smile on his face as he held up the chocolate brown leather tube he had been charged with protecting. To Donny's relief it was unscathed which meant that the telescope inside would still be in one piece. That just left Leo, who after a moment of frantic scanning emerged from the tree line.
"All gone." He announced simply, sliding his swords away. "So, Don, how do we do this?"
Science was Don's thing, it always had been and probably always would be. As a consequence he was given the opportunity to take point. As Donny had suspected his telescope was indeed in one piece, which meant that the small ruckus they had endured was worth it. Unscrewing one end of the tripod he had defended he extended the contraptions skeletal frame to plant each black leg into the soft earth Hyde Park had to offer. Taking out the smooth mahogany casing he lovingly placed the treasure of his collection on top of the tripod. With the sort of attention to detail only scientists could possibly tolerate he spent the next twenty minutes aligning it perfectly with the stars. Checking through the spot the look of dismay that creased up his features was evident for all to see. It wasn't quite right.
"This had betta be worth it …" Raph hissed to Casey quietly. His stoic expression complimented by the folded arms and hunched shoulders.
Adding the finishing touches to the scene took a great deal of concentration. Concentration that always made his brothers giggle as the tip of his tongue peaked out through the corner of his mouth, and his right eye squinted. Finally satisfied with his calculations he stepped back. From the sky rays of orange-gold light flooded the park, casting the usually dark shadows with a rich hue that illuminated all. Having had his fill of studying the moon with its veil of shimmering bronze he stepped aside to let his brothers have a look at one of nature's most beautiful natural phenomenon.
"Wow, thad is sweet! Whad issit?" Pulled out of the way by Raphael he turned to Donny with his head tilted skywards and lovingly wistful stare. Even though the amber-gold globe was tiny without the assistance of the lens it was still stunning to behold.
With a small smile on his face Donny replied happily, "It's a lunar eclipse Mikey"
x-x-x-x
It had been the pilot to notice the unusual phenomenon; traversing over the skyline of New York he had pointed it out to the co-pliot who in turn notified Todd.
"Mr Kilmour," anxious to share the beauty they had stumbled across Todd broke from his place in the private jet to pull up the sleek plastic shutter. Squatting down behind his charge he pointed it out to him in the sky, the large full moon more than capable of reflecting the power of the sun in all of its glory as it made its way across the sleeping satellite. "We're not entirely sure what it is, but isn't it something."
Shielding his eyes Patrick studied the sky, but instead of being filled with awe the paling of his tanned skin was lost in the reflective glare. "Aye that it is." Reaching out one large hand he pulled the small shutter down firmly, saying nothing more on the matter. Letting out a small snort he pressed his lips into a thin, firm line, his hands idly tapping Seamus from one palm to the other. It's just superstition Pat he reminded himself firmly, closing his eyes to silently chastise his Irish heritage.
x-x-x-x
April wasn't sure if she was comforted by the protectiveness of her friends, or insulted that they didn't feel she was capable of defending herself in battle. But either way following a short argument she had found herself left behind at her store with nothing but the evening news, and a bowl of pretzels for company. Settling down onto her settee she flicked on the news in time for the entertainment section, okay, so maybe there were some things more important than defending the innocent, such as Colin Farrell's latest conquest.
Leaning forwards, April dug her hand into the Perspex bowl of salty goodness whilst the newsreader droned on. Just as her boredom was beginning to peak once again the joy that was Robert Steiner cut back to the main story for the night. And just like that, April's interest in local affairs was stimulated once again;
'The fate of one of the biggest street gangs that roam New York is in the balance this week due to the trial McCormack & Norman vs. The State of New York which shall be taking part in the High Court next Monday. For almost a decade the Purple Dragons have been an untouchable force that has terrorised the innocent for too long. With the assistance of the Attorney General, the FBI have been preparing and moving the relevant evidence to the scene in preparation for the case. Despite the fact that the number of new Dragons has been dropping over the past five years authorities are still anxious about intimidation or foul play in regards to those taking part in the trial. Be it be the handful of brave people with the spirit and courage to stand up to the organised crime that pollutes this once great city, or the law enforcers assigned to the case.
Though we have not had any confirmation from the relevant authorities our reporters can exclusively reveal that in order for the case to successfully go to trial that all relevant evidence and witnesses must be in the state of New York by the end of this week. Naturally we do not expect this message to reach those brave souls with hearts of gold, but if you should be out there watching this, we here at the Channel 3 office would like to thank you on behalf of the people of New York. Our hopes and dreams are with you. This is Robert Steiner for Channel 3 news saying goodnight and God bless."
"Oh my …" leaning over to the 1930's telephone situated on her night stand she instinctively dialled the men she had been arguing with hours earlier.
x-x-x-x
Quite by chance Splinter gained insight into the situation. And as he listened to what was said he slowly began to understand the low number of Foot and thugs his sons were coming across as of late. "Interesting." He murmured quietly, he would have to get a newspaper when the opportunity presented itself in order to follow this in more detail now.
In fact it turned out that it was becoming the talking point for nearly every radio phone in across the city of New York. Caller after caller rang in to voice their opinion on the report Robert Steiner had made on the news earlier, some commending the message put across by Steiner, others disgusted by the arrogance of a man who could have put countless lives in danger. Either way Splinter had decided to change his son's training program, there would undoubtedly be witnesses for this case, and they would need as much assistance as they could garner.
x-x-x-x
During his time in school Oroku Saki had been assured he would never amount to much. It had been this sort of negativity that had caused him to drop out and turn to a life of crime. How surprised would his teachers be now? The ruthlessness that had garnered the attention of his first sensei had only grown and twisted over the years until he had earned his rightful place at the top of the tree, and years of hard work would not be squandered because of one insignificant court case.
Tonight the man now more commonly known as The Shredder watched the news report with keen eyes. In the panelled boardroom all of his best men sat gathered. To the right of the black leather seat he sat in was his favoured Son. At a sickeningly tall 7ft2inches Hun had been a wonderful find in the cold streets of New York, a child who with careful guidance had become cold and sadistic. Qualities that Saki looked for in all of his top men. Leaning back in his chair, the tall, lean muscled man watched the extended screen intently, his cold brown eyes observing the report over the tip of his stippled fingers;
"… Naturally we do not expect this message to reach those brave souls with hearts of gold, but if you should be out there watching this, we here at the Channel 3 office would like to thank you on behalf of the people of New York…"
"Do you hear that?" the man growled over the end of the report, his eyes flickering from the only source of light in the darkened room, "The State of New York thinks our time has come." Uncrossing one leg Saki used the heel of his right foot to pull his chair closer to the dark wood table. Lowering his hands he relaxed his fingers from the hard point they had formed to place them in a cup atop the worn leather. Rising slowly to his feet the men in the room knew better than to mistake his cold, calculating movements as a stall for time. "I think the State of New York needs to understand that no one, and I mean no one, is beyond the reach of the Foot." Looking to his Son the screen at the end of the boardroom flicked off, plunging the room into an uncomfortable grey-black shade. Not one of the men in the room dared to breathe whilst Saki made eye contact with each with a withering glare. "This case is not going to make it to court, which means that each and everyone of you has seven days to destroy as much evidence as possible." The man smiled coldly, "Organic and otherwise. Doing so may win favour with your Father." Once again the man paused, his gaze taking in each and every one of the men before him. "You do want to win that favour don't you?"
Saki didn't need to hear a response; all those that sat at his table had earned his favour at some point. Earning a little more could never be a bad thing. Lifting up one hand, the man bid goodbye to his underlings with a dismissive flick of the wrist, the muted scraping of metal on wood the only sound to fill the air as they crept out one by one. When there was no one left but Hun Shredder turned his face to the larger man.
"Hun," his voice dropped in volume, it was the closest the man could come to expressing any sort of emotion. "There is a man who can destroy a large part of our organisation. Failure to remove him will displease me greatly. I am making it your personal duty to see that Patrick Kilmour never makes that stand."
Hun returned his Father's cold sneer "Not a problem, I have just the guy for the job."
"And who would that be?"
"An old friend boss, just a real old friend."
tbc ...