Chapter 9: Unclear Intentions

Doctor Stockman...

The scientist that the Hamato brothers had explicitly warned to leave me alone.

The first thing I noticed was that he wasn't alone. Another man, thin and wiry with dusky skin and an almost Hispanic complexion, played absently with a switchblade as he stood beside the doctor, watching me as well. He was dressed in a black vest and jeans, and had the look and feel of a street fighter. The look in his eyes as he watched me was one of amused contempt.

I flattened myself low to the ground and narrowed my eyes, watching the glass doors suspiciously.

Why was he here?

What did they want?

And why were they watching me?!

I kept an eye on them as I slowly and cautiously backed up, then slipped behind a tree for cover, glaring around the bark to watch them.

The man with the switchblade turned and mentioned something to Stockman with a sneer, then snickered gleefully at his own joke, though I couldn't hear anything through the sound-proof doors. Stockman continued to stand there stoically and watch me, arms behind his back.

Growling low, I narrowed my eyes even further and let myself slip back further into cover, melting completely away into the trees and foliage.

When I hadn't reappeared for several minutes, the switchblade wielding man slowly stopped playing with the weapon, frowning.

He turned and asked Stockman something, to which the taller man curtly gave a short reply and a shrug.

The thin man in the vest huffed, pocketed his blade, and leaned up against the door, cupping his hands and pressing his face between them against the glass, leaving his face looking distorted as he squished up against the glass. His dark eyes peered around, obviously trying to locate the missing turtle man within.

WHAM!

My three fingered hand suddenly slammed up against the unyielding glass right where his face was pressed, causing him to jump back and fall hard on his rear with a startled but unheard yelp.

Suddenly I was right there in front of them both, with only the solid bulletproof glass of the doors separating us. My teeth were bared and my face was pulled back in an angry snarl as I let out a loud, angry reptilian hiss.

To his credit, Stockman didn't even flinch. He just raised an eyebrow and watched me coolly.

The soundproofing made it so I couldn't hear anything being said, but I could only imagine the words coming out of the street thug's mouth as he scrambled back up to his feet, his switchblade back in his hands as he lunged angrily for the door.

Stockman held up a hand, stopping him, and said a few words, his gaze never leaving me.

I backed up a few steps, crouched and bristled, making it very clear by my tense and coiled body language that if they dared to enter, I would immediately attack. My very aura crackled with dangerous energy.

They. Were. Not. WELCOME!

My ice blue eye, steeled and dangerous, met Stockman's sharp gaze and held it. Frigid blue versus calculating brown. I was not afraid of him, and I would not back down.

He didn't look intimated or upset. He merely raised an eyebrow, studied me for a long moment, then calmly nodded and turned away, motioning for his companion to follow.

The other man hesitated uncertainly for a moment, then finally threw me a dark look and pointed his switchblade at me, obviously saying something he thought was tough and threatening, before he too turned and followed Stockman away down the hallway.

I watched them, eyes narrowed and teeth still bared in a silent growl.

Once I was sure they were gone, I stood up and at glared at the now empty glass door, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts and questions.

One thing I was certain of, though.

That encounter had not been spontaneous. Stockman hadn't just been walking by and decided to peek in on me.

No... Stockman had waited to appear until after Bradford had called away the three Hamato brothers. He had known that I would be alone and without the umbrella of protection their presence offered me. Indeed, I realized that there was a very real possibility that Stockman and Bradford were working together, that it had been a part of the plan for Bradford to call them away at that specific time, for that very purpose, so that the doctor could look in on me without being interrupted.

I turned and began to pace a little across the grass, still feeling agitated.

Why? Why was he there? Why had he brought a minion? Did he just want to show him something? Was he planning on actually entering through the doors and into the sanctuary, but changed his mind when I displayed such aggressive behavior?

What would he have tried to do once in here? What did he want? What did any of them want?!

The more I paced, the more agitated I grew.

Something was going on here. Something definitely wasn't right.

From all the stories that Master Splinter told me, Hamato Yoshi was a affectionate and caring father. Yet his sons seemed, for the most part, left to care for themselves. Donnie obviously carried far more weight as Chuunin then he was comfortable with, so why did Yoshi allow his son to suffer without intervening? Why were the Hamato brothers burdened with so much of the responsibilities in running the clan?

And they said that Bradford was training them. Why didn't Yoshi, their father and one of the most skilled ninjas in the world, train his own sons personally? Why was he across the world in Japan, why didn't he come over here with his sons to meet me, if they were all so excited about my capture as they claimed to be?

For that matter, why didn't he have a room already in the Hamato Compound here in New York? Why did they have to hire contractors to build one for him specifically? Why couldn't he just stay with his sons?

And there was even more then bothered me then just Hamato Yoshi's inexplicable absence. The more I thought about things, the more concerned I grew. The Hamato Clan seemed to be employing some rather shady and, in my judgement, dishonorable characters. Dr Stockman, Bradford, the man with the switchblade, who may or may not be the Xever referred to earlier. The Hamato brothers didn't seem to care for any of these men, and yet, judging by Donnie's words earlier, they were powerless to go against this Council and its Darius Dun and get rid of them. Where was their father in all of this? Since they were all underaged, it would make sense to have a council of adults overseeing clan matters, supposedly on their behalf, if they had no parental authority, but they spoke as if their father was alive.

Things just weren't adding up.

I slowed in my pacing, and rested a hand on a tree trunk as I looked up, taking a deep breath.

There was something going on here under the surface. Possibly something bad. I was honestly starting to wonder if the three brothers might be as trapped as I was. Perhaps even more. I could escape anytime I wanted. They could not.

And Yoshi... his lack of involvement in all this was absolutely baffling, if the stories about him my Master used to tell were true. Perhaps when I met the man himself, I would learn more, but until then...

I looked back to the door, to where Stockman had stood earlier with his lackey, eyes narrowing as I considered the situation.

I needed more information. Both to help myself, and the Hamatos.

I glanced up at my escape vent up on the wall across the room, and the ventilation system that crisscrossed the compound.

It would be risky.

But I knew just how to try and get it.

Hours later, it was late at night, and many of the ninjas in the compound were either going out on patrol, or heading back to their quarters up on the second floor. I was considering going back to my sanctuary as well before I was missed, having learned very little for all my poking around.

I was almost offended on behalf of the Hamato brothers as I slunk through the ventilation shafts. Whoever was in charge of security and building maintenance should be fired. There were signs that the vents had, at one point, been secure, but neglect and time had taken its toll. All the maintenance hatches to the vents I came across had once been securely sealed shut and locked, but now all that held some of them on were coats of paint on the outside. There were bolted gates blocking access between sections and from one level to another, but now bolts were loose or missing, covers were rusted, and grates were slipping.

I merely slipped out of a loose vent, crept out and raided an unguarded maintenance closet for some bolt cutters and screwdrivers, and the compound was now my playground to explore. I made a mental note to leave an unsigned note on a desk somewhere pointing out this glaring weakness after I left.

Anyways, I had just been about to give up, when investigating the elevator lead to a new discovery. The elevator had settings for five floors.

I had learned from both personal exploration and talks from overheard conversations below that the ground floor up on the surface was the dojo and the public face. The first subterranean floor was the barracks, where the ninja grunts ate, slept, and played. The second floor, the one I entered first through my vent, seemed to be offices, work spaces, and meeting rooms, including the security room where the brothers had been watching for me on camera last night. The third floor seemed to be more secure, and was the Hamato's personal living spaces, including the entrance to my sanctuary. I hadn't poked around that floor much yet.

Was there really one more level below that? What was down there?

Well, there was one way to find out...

It had turned out to be far more difficult then I expected to sneak down to this mysterious fourth floor. Contrary to the other floors, the security on this one was intense. It took all of my skills, careful maneuvering of the elevator shaft, and, a lot of subtle prodding looking for weak points, but I finally managed to slip into ventilation system, once again allowing me cover to sneak around in.

Success! Now, to make my way to the nearest vent cover and try to find out why this was...

Well. This was a thing.

My first instinct was to immediately turn around, climb back up to my exit in the alleyway, and try to find the nearest train that would start taking me south.

I stared in horror at the fourth floor.

A laboratory!

I was a mutant living right about a human research facility!

Oh gods, I was going to be strapped down to a table again and turned into an experiment! I had to get out of here!

But then I took a deep breath, forced my panic down, and actually took a moment to reason my way through this.

Even though most of the lights were out, I could see that this was not a medical facility. In fact, most of the research down here had to do with the mechanical. This was nothing like Bishop's lab. There were no specimen locked in cages, no horrific tubes of liquid containing creatures that may or may not be alive. No, there were only half built machines, vehicles ranging from small watercrafts and hoverboards to armored tanks, and a lot of little tiny robots that resembled tiny, round headed velociraptors.

And I quickly noticed that there, sitting in this massive lab late at night under the single light that was still on, sat a red-haired human woman, working diligently at a computer.

I watched her for a long moment suspiciously Why was she down here? It seemed to be after hours, and all the other scientists were obviously gone.

Then I noticed the shadowy form of a human ninja slinking through the shadows behind her, weaving through the abandoned desks like a hunting cat slowly approaching a distracted gazelle.

This lone, red-haired woman was so engrossed in her work, she had no idea that somebody was slowly and silently stalking her...