Donatello was pacing nervously on the corner of Brightby and Carter.

Wherever it was that Bishop's men had left him, it seemed to be devoid of all life, human or otherwise. The warehouses in the vicinity were boarded up and looked even more desolate than the "AJB" building had. A few cars passed by every now and again, but Donatello soon decided that it was because some sort of main road must not be too far off in the distance. Not knowing what sort of automobile his brothers would arrive in, Donatello simply dove behind a group of garbage cans to avoid the strangers without completely blocking his view.

A slightly nauseous feeling gnawed at him. He didn't know if this was a reaction to the tranquilizers he had been shot with, or a symptom of the dread he felt. True, this wasn't the first time one of their own had been captured by Agent Bishop and, like a television show plotline that refuses to die, this most likely won't be the last time they ever have to deal with him, but Donatello couldn't shake the idea that there was something different this time around.

If Bishop had wanted all of the turtles captured, he would have known that he could have kept both Raphael and Donatello, evoking the suspicions of the others and thus leading them straight to him. And any genuine desire to help Allison would have led to him attempting to extract her location from the two of them by force. No, he wanted to send Donatello back for one of two reasons. Either he actually did want Donatello to return with Allison… or he intended to keep Raphael for unknown purposes. With a shudder, Donatello tried not to think of the likelihood of both of those being the case. With the history Bishop had concerning cruel experimentation….

Hearing a car approaching, Donatello snapped out of his worried pacing and quickly dodged back towards the garbage cans. Squinting in the darkness, he realized that the car had suddenly cut its headlights and was slowing down. When he felt his shell cell silently vibrate, he knew it was the others and stood, revealing his location. The red BMW quickly rounded the corner and drove up besides him.

"Dude," Michelangelo said from the backseat. "This place is like, Nowheresville."

"Donnie," Leonardo asked from the passenger seat as he put away his shell cell. "You okay?" Donatello halted as he approached the car, realizing who the driver was. "Allison? What are you-?" Allison got out of the car and walked briskly over to him. "Donatello, are you all right? What's happened?" She reached over to embrace him, and though Donatello felt touched by the honest worry in her voice, he reached out and held her away from him. "Allison, are you nuts?"

"Nuttier than a Hershey's bar with almonds," Michelangelo informed him, sticking his head out the window. "But then, you gotta be to pal around with a bunch of green ninjas." Ignoring Donatello's reprimands, Allison asked, "Donatello, what's happened? Where's Raphael?"

"Allison, go back home. You don't know what you're dealing with."

"I didn't know what I was dealing with the last time, either."

"This is serious."

"I'm already in too deep."

"Allison, go-"

"Guys, take cover!" Allison was surprised to feel Leonardo's hand grab at her through the window and pull her down, causing her to fall against the car just as her headlights seemed to shatter. Michelangelo slid out of the backseat and joined her in a crouch on the ground. Judging by how the three turtles took cover besides her, Allison realized that they were being shot at. "Great," she muttered as she reached into the car and withdrew her weapon. "And I'm not even done paying for this thing yet."

Donatello let out an annoyed groan as he observed the small group of gunmen heading towards them. "I should've known that he wouldn't let me out of his sight until I delivered the goods." Allison was about to ask him what he meant when Leonardo grimly said, "This doesn't look good. We're outnumbered and unprepared for battle. We're going to have to get through via a tight strategy."

Allison reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of small dark spheres that looked like charcoal. "Or we could use these." The turtles peered over at the spherical objects in her hand. "Smoke bombs?" Donatello guessed. Allison gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Yes and no. More props from Sewer Dwellers. A very weak version of mercuric fulminate, a powerful explosive." Donatello took one of the balls out of her hand. "Of course! When you minimize the amount of mercury and insert the compounds into a capsule, the resulting explosive becomes susceptible to friction or shock and forms a thick black smoke, acting like a watered-down, time-insensitive grenade." Michelangelo blinked confusedly at his brother. "Someone wanna run that by me again, maybe in English?"

Thoughtfully taking one of the tablets from Allison's palm, Leonardo murmured, "It's both defense and offense."

--------------------------------

"My, my. Aren't you a late sleeper."

Raphael shook his head firmly, trying to get his bearings straight. He felt a surge of revulsion when he saw Bishop standing directly in front of him. Realizing he wasn't tied down to anything, he growled and tried to lunge at the man, only to collide into a thick sheet of glass. Landing on the floor, Raphael shook his head again and looked around. He suddenly realized where he was.

He was in a containment unit, not unlike the one Donatello had been entrapped in when he was infected by the outbreak virus. Looking up, he could make out several small openings that were either for ventilation… or for the introduction of some sort of vapor. They had been used when both Donatello and Allison's friend Robert had needed a gaseous form of the cure to be introduced to their system. However, Raphael bet that Bishop wasn't planning on administering any sort of "cure" on him.

"What's the matter," he asked Bishop sarcastically. "The local Holiday Inn was booked?" Bishop merely stood there, the same near-smile upon his lips. "Amusing," was the response. "However, perhaps even you will learn to hold your tongue when you listen and realize that I might just be doing you a favor."

"Ya missed a big condition there, Bishop," Raphael snarled, making his way up to his feet again. "You're assumin' that I'll actually listen to ya." Taking a step towards the glass encasement, Bishop murmured, "Yes, that is quite presumptuous of me, given our history together. But maybe you'll place some stock in the fact that, other than your containment for the safety of myself and my men, you are mostly unfettered and still breathing. Does that make any difference to you?"

"In a word: no."

Bishop looked at him blankly before pushing his glasses up higher in the ridge of his nose. Finally, he continued in his vaguely business-like manner. "For months, I have been working with the renowned Baxter Stockman—or rather, what remains of the arrogant doctor. After the fiasco at Area 51, Stockman discovered something very interesting about this 'cure' that your crocodilian comrade threw together. Do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"Let me guess," Raphael muttered, already knowing he was intended for some sort of experimentation. "It was just chock-full 'a vitamin C, huh?" It only got his blood boiling when Bishop threw his head back in laughter. "Oh no," the agent finally replied. "Something better. Something much more beneficial to mankind."

Going back to his previous seriousness, Bishop continued to walk towards the containment unit. "Do you ever tire, reptile, of what you are? The endless hiding and persecution, the constant dread of the terrified screams from the people you claim to want to protect?" Stopping only a few inches away from Raphael's face, Bishop whispered, "If you claim human emotions from within, are you ever loath to see an inhuman appearance without?"

Raphael narrowed his eyes at him, saying nothing. Something about this made his skin crawl. For once, Bishop wasn't being threatening or ranting about how the turtles were a threat to humanity. If Raphael wasn't as cynical and suspicious as he always had been, he would have almost thought that he heard something almost akin to sympathy in Bishop's voice. The idea would have made him laugh if only it weren't for something that chilled him: everything Bishop was saying was, on some level, true.

Raphael didn't know what was worse. It was bad enough to realize that he had always felt a sort of longing to have what the humans have, to know that his source of constant discontentment laid within his very genetic structure. But to think that Bishop would be the one to vocalize such veiled sentiments… it was enough to make Raphael sick.

"Lemme get this straight," Raphael finally brought up, not about to let Bishop think he had gotten to him. "You, the human who's been on my ass and makin' my life a livin' hell, are tryin' to psychoanalyze me? Get real, ya lousy bum. What would ever make ya think I'd aspire to be part 'a your species?"

The sentence was barely out of his mouth when Bishop removed something from behind his back that appeared to be a tape recorder. Raphael suddenly heard his own voice screaming, "That damned virus that you 'n Stockman cooked up's wreckin' a girl's life! She needs this, 'n she needs it now! You even think about stoppin' me from helpin' her, and my foot's gonna hafta be surgically removed from your ass, ya got that?"

By the time the turtle realized that this was his earlier threat in regards to getting the chemical back to Allison, Bishop cracked a half-smile. Putting the device away, Bishop remarked, "Interesting, isn't it? Just now, you were speaking about how I'm always on your 'ass' and making your life a living hell. Signs of a rather self-centered individual, you must admit."

"What the shell-"

"And yet," Bishop continued, as though he had never been interrupted, "this friend of yours ranks rather high on your list of priorities. Judging by the conversation recorded between yourself and your brother outside my labs, you also ignored his rather logical advice of turning back because you didn't want to waste time. I originally attributed this to the fact that you are, essentially, the hotheaded one, but given your persistence on helping this girl and your current body language, I can only wonder how… important you judge her to be."

Raphael gaped at Bishop before sinking his head in his hand. "I can't believe this," he muttered. "Even my arch enemies are startin' this crap about us. What is this, some new kinda torture?"

Bishop raised an eyebrow. "Don't be vile. Though she may be a mutant now, she was originally a human. The thought of a full-blood mutant having those sorts of ideas about a human is utterly repulsing." Not sure whether to be relieved or annoyed, Raphael commented, "Glad ya think so."

"I only mean that she is obviously a very powerful bargaining chip," Bishop went on, turning away from Raphael and going into a slow, thoughtful pace. "So, I've come to a decision that will suit both your needs and my own. You want the girl turned back into a human. I can arrange that. We'll all go on a little field trip to my new base of operations where she will be administered the cure." Turning slowly towards Raphael again, he released a small, wicked smile. "Right after you are."

Raphael couldn't think of anything to do but gawk at Bishop blankly. At length, he exclaimed, "Say what?" Bishop did not reply; instead, he turned away from his captive and began walking towards the door. "Hey!" Raphael called. "Hey, what do you mean, cured? Bishop! Bishop, damn you!"

Pounding on the glass door, Raphael tried not to panic. A cure? From someone who sees Raphael's mutation as a disease? He's gonna try 'n reverse my mutation, Raphael realized with a chill. By the time he's through with me, I'll be lucky to be sittin' in the bottom of an aquarium.

Trying to wrap his mind around this frightening thought, Raphael was startled by a sudden explosion coming from the doorway, followed by a thick cloud of black smoke. He thought he saw Bishop hit the floor, but the dense haze made it difficult to tell for sure. In the confusion, he quickly looked about for his sais, but to no avail. If this was some sort of rescue mission, he bitterly discovered he would have to be as cooperative as possible for it to work. He found that he didn't mind that so much, given the alternative.

Raphael could hear his brothers' voices, most definitively Leonardo's shouting out commands. He was surprised to hear a feminine voice in the mixture also, calling out to him. "Raphael? Raph?" He tried to look through the smoke, but by the time he could make out Allison's form, she was already directly in front of him, peering into the glass chamber. Seeing her black cape-like jacket and the ornamental stick she carried, he wryly asked, "Who do ya think you are; Super Rat?"

"Shut up, you jerk," was the response. "Just tell me how to get you out of here!" As Allison continued to peer about the containment unit for an opening, Raphael told her, "Ya think if I knew how to get outta here, I'd actually be standin' here now?" Allison took a step back and looked up to the top of Raphael's cell. "It looks like a hydraulic unit," she muttered. Donatello soon sped up behind her and surveyed the situation. "Definitely hydraulics," he remarked quickly as his brothers kept Bishop occupied. "Easily enough dealt with. I'll need a sharp object-"

"Here," Allison said, handing him a silver switchblade. Looking to Raphael, who seemed to recognize it, she smiled and spoke as Donatello began working. "And here you thought that I would use it to protect myself." Raphael was about to comment on the knife he had given her nearly a year ago, but Donatello instructed her to climb to the top of the encasement and pull open the hatch. Without a moment's hesitation, she began scrambling to the top of the glass prison.

At the top, Allison balanced herself on either end of the tube and pulled, trying to pry it open. It slowly gave way as Donatello fiddled with the hydraulic system. As soon as there was the slightest bit of an opening, Raphael was already jumping to the top, trying to climb out. With Allison's help, he was pulled free. Unfortunately, assisting Raphael to get up made her lose her balance, and Allison stumbled over to the side.

She felt a pair of strong arms come around her and break her fall. Just when she was about to thank her rescuer, she turned around and tensed up when she saw an unfamiliar man. It was at the same moment that she realized that he wasn't just holding her up… he was pinning her arms to her side and pulling her backwards. Something about his cold dark eyes and his strong angular body brought such a shiver to Allison that she realized that this man must be the infamous Agent Bishop.

Allison cried out and squirmed in his grasp, even as she realized that he was forcing her backwards, towards a previously-unseen exit. As she struggled, she managed to grasp her bo in both hands and flick the release, separating it into two ninjatō swords. "Let me go!" As she yelled at the man who thought he had the upper hand, she slammed one of her blades down on his foot. Though it was only a movie prop and not battle-ready, Allison's fear and determination was enough to drive it straight down.

Bishop let out a grunt and his grip slackened. Allison quickly drew back her sword and pivoted, meaning to face him off. She was shocked to see that Bishop seemed more annoyed than pained as he grabbed her fiercely by the shoulders. By the time she realized that he was getting ready to head butt her, his forehead already connected with hers.

She was out cold.

It was at this point that Raphael had just managed to find his sais on a nearby table and turned around. He had been alerted by Allison's initial cry, but had been certain that one of his brothers could stave off the imminent danger until he was properly armed. It wasn't until he saw Allison lying limply in Bishop's arms that he realized the room had become infested with more of Bishop's men, and everyone in the room was preoccupied.

Guiltily cursing himself for not protecting Allison, Raphael darted towards Bishop as he carried the unconscious mutant rat over his shoulder and out a door. Letting out a harsh yell, Raphael lunged forward with one of his sais, noting Bishop's limp. In the heat of the moment, he underestimated Bishop's renowned speed and nimbleness. Bishop spun around and revealed that he was carrying a taser in his free hand. The white heat from the gun stunned Raphael and sent him sprawling to the ground with another scream.

He dimly heard Leonardo calling his name. Raphael was almost sure that his brother was fighting to get to him, but hardly had the strength to hold himself up to his elbows, never mind pay attention to his surroundings. Another blast hit him, and as he faded out of consciousness it was clear that Bishop's weapon was placed at a setting far beyond "stun."

"Sir," said a black-clad man speeding towards Bishop from outside. "The chopper's ready." Putting his gun away, Bishop replied, "Good." The pilot looked down at the fallen green mass that Bishop was staring down at. He asked, "Part of the cargo?"

"Yes."

"What about the others?"

Bishop's sharp dark eyes looked back at the chaos surrounding the room. The one called Leonardo was indeed fighting desperately to get to Raphael, but he was intelligent enough to hide behind equipment as his opponents fired at him, coming out only when it was opportune. Donatello seemed more concerned with getting to Leonardo, perhaps to enable his brother the leeway to go after Bishop. Michelangelo seemed almost unaware of the risk as he also dodged laser blasts and swung his nunchucks at any moving target.

Bishop was no fool. He had one of them. Any attempt to gain the others right now might force him to forfeit his prize. "Leave them behind," he answered, turning around and carrying the mutated human outside towards the helicopter that was waiting for them. "One of them will do for now. Make sure the rest can't follow."

Michelangelo watched as Bishop left the room. Seeing him take Allison was one thing, but seeing two of his goons grab at Raphael and jerk him up and drag him away was something else completely. With a split-second calculation, he threw one of his nunchucks at one of the baddies' feet, tripping him up. His other 'chuck swung up and sent the three attackers that he was fighting flying. "I'm coming, Raph!"

Upon hearing Michelangelo's voice, Leonardo looked up from where he was shielding himself from the taser blasts. "Mikey, no!" It was too late. His brother was already catapulting towards the lone agent that was dragging their brother away, ignorant of the fact that all of the remaining men were now aiming at him. Donatello also saw this fatal mistake and reiterated Leonardo's warning.

The man with his ankles bound by the nunchucks was encouraging his companion to run for it. He raised his gun just as Michelangelo, hoping to get a tackle in from a long way off, dove for Raphael. The only thing he got was a paralytic blast right at his chest.

Leonardo could feel his skin crawl when he heard his brother's blood-curdling scream. Seeing that the enemy was retreating for the door, Leonardo swiftly emerged and ran to catch Michelangelo as the force of the blast sent him flying. He was hit in the stomach by Michelangelo's shell, but ignored the pain as he put his arms around him and took the full effect of the fall on himself.

Donatello had kept the glass containment unit between himself and the door, and so could see why everyone was backing off. The man that Bishop had been speaking to was removing an orb of sorts out of his pocket and was waving people out. Donatello, feeling that he somehow always manages to get himself into situations like this, recognized it for what it was: a detonator.

With Leonardo preoccupied with Michelangelo, Donatello knew that he had to keep the explosive as far away from them as possible, and knew that his timing had to be precise. The man edged away towards the exit and, aiming towards the pair of turtles on the floor, threw the explosive.

As soon as Donatello registered where the bomb was being aimed, he darted out. As though he were playing a game of baseball, he used his bo as a bat and intercepted the bomb, sending it back towards where Bishop and his men had escaped. He knew that he wouldn't be able to clear them completely from the explosion, and so he sheathed his bo and grabbed Michelangelo. "C'mon," he told Leonardo. "Let's get out of here!"

Though his mind was buzzing with worry over Michelangelo and Raphael and Allison, Leonardo's sense of responsibility kept him from panicking. Together, he and Donatello carried their unconscious brother towards the door through which they had forced their way in less than two minutes ago. Whether they actually heard something or acted upon reflex, both of them dove simultaneously just as the bomb went off.

A bright flare flashed through the darkened building, visible from within the helicopter flying above in the night sky. Bishop sternly stared down at the exploding wing of one of his many bases as the men on the ground scattered. The pilot glanced down at the commotion. "Think you got them?"

Bishop remained silent for a long time. "No," he finally answered. He turned his head and saw the two unconscious mutants laid haphazardly on the ground. He couldn't help but let out a ghost of a smile.

"But soon, I'll have all of them."