Chapter Fifty: Small Talk
Raph smirked at the Gamer, who stared, jaw dropped, at his computer screen. He was vaguely aware of Leo grunting to his left as he rose from his own computer.
A click sounded from his left: the door securing Don in his glass gaming booth automatically unlocked.
"Mikey," Leo said.
Raph heard Mikey spring for the door; Leo followed a little more slowly.
As if in slow motion, the Gamer finally rose from his chair. "He beat it," he said. "I can't believe my Opponent defeated my masterpiece…"
"Smarter'n ya bargained for, huh, Gamer?" Raph said, crossing his arms.
To his left, Mikey and Leo slipped into the booth; Mikey leaned Don's bo against the wall. Raph turned ever so slightly so that he could still guard the Gamer through the glass door, but also see his brothers better in his periphery.
Mikey unclipped a strap under Don's chin and eased the enormous black helmet off his head while Leo freed his hands from the bulbous gauntlet controllers. This left only the dangerous tube attaching him to the Gamer's system.
Don gasped slightly as the fluorescent lights hit his eyes; his hands raised instinctively to protect them, but after a few blinks, he lowered them again. He swayed a little.
Leo steadied his arm. "It's all right, Don. You're out. You beat it."
Raph could practically see Don's vision swim as his eyes struggled to focus on his blue-masked brother. "Leo?"
Mikey had discovered that the helmet's cables weren't long enough for it to sit on the floor, so he now pulled forward a little table that had been well out of the way and set it down. "And me, Donnie. I'm here, too. You okay, bro?"
"Mikey."
"You're good, bro. You beat the stupid Gamer."
Don's head turned, searching.
Raph uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, I'm here, too, Donnie. Ya did it. We knew ya could."
Don took a shuddering breath, then straightened himself. Raph knew he had found his footing in the real world and was setting aside any physical complaints for now. Don's eyes found the Gamer, who now stood, grinning down through the glass. "Gamer," he said, his eyes narrowed. "That was a dirty trick, even for you."
"What do you mean?" The Gamer laughed. "It was my best trick. It was my masterpiece. It was my magnum opus. And you performed brilliantly! It was the greatest single evening of my life, and I thank you for that."
"Gamer-" Don started forward; Mikey and Leo stopped him.
"You don't wanna do that, Don," Mikey said, worry creasing his face.
"Hold still, Don," Leo said. "Mikey, do your best to help him stay still."
"Careful now," said the Gamer, smiling. "Don't want to damage his spinal column as you take it out. Cause nerve damage. Paralyze him from the waist down. Shut down his cerebral cortex."
Don paled but tried not to show it.
Shellhead. Who does the Gamer think he is, sticking needles in my brothers? Raph took a sai in each hand and threaded the tines through his fingers as Don stood like a statue and Mikey held his head firmly with two hands.
Shell, really, we need medical stuff—tweezers, a light, antiseptic, a trained surgeon…
Leo shook out his arms, then, using even more care than he did when repairing his antique shoji screen, he reached for the back of Don's neck. Even the Gamer was silent as Leo touched the needle.
Pain flashed across Don's face.
"Almost." Leo's whisper barely reached Raph in the main room.
Raph held his breath. Careful, Leo.
Finally, Leo stepped back with a sigh. "Got it."
Mikey released Don's head as incalculable relief washed over every turtle present, especially Don.
Don swayed again and grabbed Mikey's arm.
Then he took a deep breath and glared daggers at The Gamer. "Didn't your mother tell you not to play with needles?" He glanced around, taking in his surroundings quickly, dropped his hold on Mikey, and exited the booth.
Leo and Mikey escorted him; Mikey watching Don and Leo watching the Gamer. On the way, Don picked up his bo from where Mikey had leaned it against the wall.
Good. Now even if he's still unsteady on his feet, the Gamer won't be able to tell.
Don stopped in front of the computers to stare up at the Gamer. "All right, Gamer. The game is up. You've had your fun, and now it's time to face the consequences for kidnapping my family."
The Gamer shrugged. "Yes and no. You beat the game, yes, but not even Dr. Stockman himself could open these doors. Besides, you don't have time to lay siege to them. You have to get going soon, don't you? Morning light on the way, right? The morning shift of Foot will arrive, and of course you can't roam the city by day, even by rooftop."
"Dr. Stockman, huh?" Don exchanged a glance with Leo, who gestured to Mikey, who immediately wheeled a chair over to the hall door, propped it open with the chair, and went to stand guard at the Gamer's other possible exit. Meanwhile, Don moved toward the glass door Raph had been guarding. He leaned his bo against the glass wall to his left. "So he's behind all these clever level designs?"
The Gamer stood up and stretched like a cat, arms over his head, before he bothered to reply. "No, no, not that fool Stockman. He's smart, but he's not clever, like yours truly. There's a difference." He yawned. "Technically, he's my boss—or he was, until I hacked the Foot computer systems and gave myself a much-needed promotion and access to resources."
"Is that right?" Don now stood next to Raph, who shuffled right to admit him, at the glass door. "The Shredder would be delighted to hear you spent a great deal of the annual Foot budget on an oversized obstacle course." His eyes dropped down to the complicated tech lock, and he gestured to Leo.
Leo fetched his duffel from where it had been forgotten.
"The Shredder hasn't been around for a while, as you well know," the Gamer said. He paused to take a long slurp of soda that grated on Raph's nerves. "And when he returns, the Foot have a new training area. He wouldn't approve of the other guys I ended up having to hire, of course, but he doesn't need to know about that."
Raph's eyes shifted to meet Leo's. The weird enemies, mixed in with the Foot. Mercenaries. Leo nodded slightly.
"Sounds expensive," Don said evenly, pulling a mysterious tool out of the duffel that Leo held open for him, "even for the Foot."
The Gamer waved a hand airily. "Ah, I'm not completely dependent on them. Excellent computer skills can be an excellent source of cash, as I'm sure you know, Opponent. I wouldn't be surprised if you dabble in… not strictly legal business in the bit world yourself. Besides, I made a masterpiece of a game, and once that sells…" He sat back down and closed his eyes. "I can ditch the Foot for good."
"Is that so?" The tool in Don's hand slipped, and he grunted.
Raph eyed it. That looked painful.
"Did I mention you're never going to make it through that door, Opponent?" The Gamer leaned forward. "I won. I beat you. You'd better start evacuating the building. Morning isn't far away."
Don didn't look up from his task.
Raph met Leo's eyes again. Not until we give the Gamer his comeuppance. But how long is breaking in going to take? I hate to admit it, but he's right about morning coming. Raph shifted his feet. What time is it, anyway? I don't have a watch… but I do have a shell cell.
Sheathing his sais for the moment, Raph grabbed his cell from his belt and glanced at it. Almost 4 a.m. He went to replace it, and his fingers brushed an unfamiliar lump.
Shell! I've got to tell Don what I found- without the Gamer finding out. I tried to tell Leo earlier, but the shellhead didn't get it. I guess he was using his whole brain at the time…
"When we get in there, Gamer," he growled suddenly, "which we will, soon, 'cause my brother's a shell of a lot smarter'n you, yer gonna pay fer what you've done ta our family. You'll regret messin' wi' us." Raph held up a clenched fist. "I've had plenty a' time ta think of… interestin' ways ta educate ya on yer mistakes. Not sure if you'll ever walk again after, but that's not my problem."
He felt Leo's eyes on him, and he knew Don was listening. Even Mikey was doubtless paying close attention out in the hall. "An' then, once yer more black n' blue than Leo at night, we'll go home, and guess what we'll do?" He grabbed his sais and twirled them until the tines pointed through his fingers. "We're gonna celebrate. In fact, we're gonna have a full-blown party. Maybe, if ya open th' door now, we'll send you a stray balloon."
Don kept his face pointed down, but his eyes shifted to Raph and a tiny smile hovered at the corner of his mouth for one second. Good. He knows what I have on my belt. And I can tell the difference between them, too.
Leo, too, understood. He smirked at Raph for a heartbeat before turning back to the Gamer.
The Gamer now regarded Raph with raised eyebrows. "Is that so?" His voice cracked on the last syllable, and he cleared his throat. "And here I thought the noble ninja turtles were too honorable to take such vicious revenge. How would your sensei feel about those threats, O Angry One?"
Leo straightened. "Our sensei would-"
"Oh, by the way, Red Mask," The Gamer cut in, much to Leo's displeasure, "I just realized this is the perfect opportunity to ask you. I never did get to catch up with you after you got back from your little adventure, you and your dumb human friend. How did it go? What did it feel like? None of my test subjects ever came back, so I was surprised and pleased to see you again."
Raph glared.
Don glanced up from the door, eyes narrowed. "What kind of maniac are you, to shoot untested darts with unknown elements at a person? Who knows where those poor Foot grunts ended up, not to mention where the darts sent Raph and Casey!"
The Gamer grinned broadly. He leaned forward even further, eyes focused on Raph. "Where did it send you, anyway, O Angry One? Did you go directly to the land of the Jior?"