Chapter Thirty- Seven: Mad Science

AN: Sorry it took so long but I wanted to draw upon what was previously explained and tie some loose ends together. ;D All my stories/scenes have purpose and some even hint to what's coming up. I "think" I've come up with a solution to a little snag in the plot, of where I wanted to go and had no clue how I was going to get there, so we'll have to see where this goes. Fingers crossed it stays under my control and doesn't decide to go down a million rabbit holes! LOL Welcome to my imagination!

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Darkness fell when Donnie joined his family, though his usual bright eyed, perkiness was lacking. Now, his gaze was vacant, his voice flat.

Splinter's tail twitched, observing his introverted son closely. As with most who are socially awkward, Donnie was more at home in front of a computer than an audience. Even his own brothers offered little by way of drawing the reclusive turtle out of his shell. Hours, even days were easily spent, lost in the world of electronics and machine code.

It was where Donnie was at home.

The most comfortable.

But for some reason, he appeared bedraggled. Not physically, but emotionally.

There was no spark. No happiness in his eye.

Splinter wondered if Donnie had a fight with Sable.

The techno-turtle wore his heart on his sleeve, and if he was having issues with his lady love, then that would account for his despondency. Not having a lot of experience with females, Donnie may be unsure how to deal with a situation.

Splinter didn't know either, but luckily, he had April on speed dial.

"I think I found a Foot Clan location," Donnie started, touching the holographic display on his projector. He pointed to the warehouse district, close to the pier. Not coincidently, it was the same pier they had investigated nearly a year before, when April was doing a story on stolen museum artifacts.

Leo's eyes narrowed but he popped up off the couch, honing in on the display, piercing gaze missing nothing.

"This looks familiar," Leo muttered, cross referencing landmarks to get a better idea of the location.

"It's the same area where April interviewed the curator about the museum pieces being stolen," Donnie said, "Where I detected the strange energy signatures but was unable to pinpoint an exact source."

"And you think this is pertinent?" Leo asked.

"I've found mention of this location in the hard drive I took from where I was captured,' Donnie said, not meeting Leo's eye. "They don't come right out and name this location, per say, but there is enough insinuation for it to be plausible."

Leo immediately barked orders out of habit. "Weapons check and shells out in five."

"You heard him," Raph said when everyone appeared frozen, unsure if they should listen to Leo while he remained dethroned leader.

The brothers scattered, Leo in an angry huff, Mikey in search of his nunchukus once again.

Once collected, the turtles met up in the living room, ready to head out.

"Be safe, my sons," Splinter called after their retreating shells.

Without taking surface roads their arrival time was cut in half. One thing about the sewers, they weren't congested as New York streets. One could easily span an entire city block within a minute and not have to worry about commuters or pedestrians, aside from the rats.

It took thirty minutes to reach their destination, Leo signaling for them to pause and reconnoiter. Raph remained in the shadow, observing their surroundings to protect his brothers. Donnie utilized his scanner and gave a gasp of surprise.

Leo joined tech-turtle, staring at the green screen that made them appear alien.

"What is it?" he breathed before figuring out what had Donnie so excited.

Donnie pointed straight up and spoke in a whisper.

"These are the exact coordinates where we attempted to triangulate the foreign signal when April reported the symbol of the Foot at the dock and the vandalized cargo from the museum of natural history."

Leo nodded in the eerie glow.

"According to my scanners, there is a room beyond this wall," Donnie said, stepping forward and running his fingers along what appeared to be an ordinary brick wall. "My scanner is having difficulty penetrating the structure, but there's definitely something there. It's why I was detecting a signal the first time. The shielding must have been weak and was letting the signal through."

"Great. So, how do we get in to find what they're hiding?" Leo asked, examining the wall for a button or lever or something to trigger a hidden door.

"There's interference so it's difficult to say what's behind it," Donnie said, wandering left and right, scanner in constant motion. "Let's check out the surface. Might not be accessible through the bottom."

Leo growled the command, "Be alert, boys. The place might be booby trapped or under surveillance."

Mikey giggled as they scaled the ladder, Raph's head lifting the manhole cover to examine the surrounding terrain for enemies.

"Boobies," Mikey sniggered.

Three brothers rolled their eyes simultaneously.

Deeming it safe, Raph gestured and slid the lid aside as silently as he could. Four brothers popped out of the sewer and melted into the surrounding shadows. Being late at night, the shadows were long and welcoming, hiding the ninjas from unfriendly eyes.

Not that anyone was around.

No guards. No homeless vagabonds. No late night teens looking for trouble.

Hopefully that was a good sign. The turtles were due for some good luck.

Donnie moved to the right several paces, dropping the specialized goggles over his eyes and switching the cameras to thermal.

No life signs were detected within a couple hundred feet.

"We're good," Donnie reported, "No humans and no electronic signals."

"No cameras?" Raph asked in his version of a whisper that sounded like roiling thunder preparing to destroy the Earth.

"Clear," Donnie confirmed.

Donnie skirted the edge of a metal building, kneeling down to get a look at the lock. It was standard, every day, common place.

To the naked eye the lock was clean, but Donnie knew better. Under the lenses of his specially designed goggles, he could easily pick out the multiple finger prints.

Careful to not leave prints of his own, he worked on picking the lock, tongue pressed between teeth, eyes staring resolute until he heard the telltale click of the lock disengaging. Using his fingertips as to not add his own prints in case the lock was later checked, Donnie eased the door open.

Darkness was beyond.

Donnie's goggles clearly highlight the room, revealing nothing but a standard warehouse with a few wooden crates placed randomly around the room.

Signaling it was safe, he was swallowed by the dark, his brothers following suit. They hugged the wall, eyes piercing the dark, searching for any signs of human activity. They performed a full circuit of the warehouse without any luck. Deeming the area safe, Donnie flipped a switch and instantly a couple loose hanging bulbs provided pale illumination.

"So, where's the bad guys?" Raph asked gruffly, cracking his knuckles in agitation.

"Donnie?" Leo asked, sending a hairy eyeball his brother's way. "Did you get the location wrong?"

Donnie was engaged with his electronics and wandered around the warehouse. His brothers fell into step, Mikey hopping up on top of the crates to get a bird's eye view of their surroundings in case of a blitz attack.

The room remained empty aside from four turtles.

"Strange," Donnie muttered, performing a full circuit around the perimeter, then weaving between the boxes.

Mikey hunkered down on top of the tallest crate, head on a swivel, his hearing as keen as a fox.

"The room is remarkably clean," Donnie stated, centering into a wooden crate half the size of a pick up truck. The lettering was black and bold, stating the crate housed crane parts from Thailand.

"Great, Donnie,' Raph grunted, sais glinting in his hands. "You looking for a maid?"

"I mean, it's too clean to be this close to the shore and a major shipping location for any product," Donnie said, examining the crate. His head tilted, noticing a broad projection that resembled a flattened nail. "Odd."

He touched the nail, flipping it downward. It gave a metallic click and with a soft sigh, the front part of the crate opened outward on a hinge.

Raph growled, ready to fight anything that came out of the crate, but as Donnie shone a light into it, a steep sloping staircase was revealed. There was no light at the bottom, but there was an edge that signaled a doorway.

Raph took point, weapons poised as he descended the staircase. Donnie followed, with Mikey slipping into the shadow of his shell. Leo took up the flank, katanas flush along his forearms as the confined area wouldn't allow much extension.

The door was empty, as was the room beyond.

And what a room it was!

Donnie found a light switch and clicked on the lights. Bank after bank of illumination flickered to life overhead.

"Whoa," Mikey breathed.

The room was pristine white, with 2 individual glass cages on the right, exactly like the ones the turtles had been imprisoned at Sacks' estate. On the left hand side were trays of medical instruments, color coded log books on the shelf, test tubes, beakers, microscopes, all manner of equipment used for experimentation.

There was also a camera set up on a tripod, pointing at the empty cages. Behind it was a large flat screen tv and computer. No doubt the lab was set up for live streaming of experiments.

"Dude, feels like a mad scientist's laboratory," Mikey muttered.

Donnie's scanner whirled. "No electronic signal. Place is clean."

He searched the spines of the colored binders on the shelf, the writing so horrible it was difficult to decipher the script.

Project Alpha – Project Tin Man- Project Home- Project Wildlife- Project Zodiac

The binders were two inch thick, and as Donnie extracted each one to examine it, he found notes upon the individual test subjects.

Project Alpha contained several physical and emotional characteristics of animals, most notably, the violent ones. Wolves, Cougars, Coyotes, Hyenas… the list catalogued pros and cons of the individual animal. There were also labels affixed to each sheet, dating the time, place, and exact animal the specimen was collected.

The list gave Donnie the shivers. Nothing good could come of having DNA samples of so many aggressive animals. Especially not when the Foot were concerned.

The shark listings made Donnie's mutated blood turn cold.

Leo and Raph performed a precursory check of the perimeter, mindful of any traps, looking for clues.

Mikey was glancing over the project binders and pulled out one, nudging Donnie with his arm.

"Check it. They have a manifest of their transmissions and the ISP thingies," Mikey said, showing Donnie the log book.

Sure enough, there was a list of transmission dates, complete with time lapse, experiment ID#, and a changing algorithm that made tracking and pinpointing location impossible. Unless one had the pertinent information.

"Leo," Donnie called, his green finger scanning through the dates. They were random, some times months passing between transmissions. When Leo and Raph joined their bothers, Donnie spoke. "Transmission logs show their schedule transmissions."

"And?" Leo asked, taking out his phone to take pictures of the log book.

"And it so happens, there's a scheduled transmission in about three weeks!" Donnie blurted happily. "Sixteen days to be exact."

"Can you hack it?" Leo asked without thinking.

Donnie looked affronted, but gave a sheepish grin.

"Yes, and no. This transmission is heavily encrypted. I would have to know their specific parameters in order to piggy back the transmission and find out the location of their main base."

Leo hated to allow the place to remain functional, but it was more important to find the main base of operations than worry about a randomly used satellite location. He gave a crisp nod.

"Set up cameras. We leave this place untouched." Leo looked pointedly to Raph, who whined, crestfallen at the news he wasn't allowed to tear the place up. "Hopefully we can find their main base, and when we destroy it, get the information we need to wipe out the Foot, once and for all."

"Halleluiah to that," Raph grinned.

Donnie extracted three tiny cameras of his own design, and with Raph's help, positioned them to get a clear view of the log in information. The cameras were no bigger than a fly, totally translucent, and were linked to one of Donnie's many Ipads. He kept them powered down until it was time for them to wake up and record the Foot activity.

Leo took pictures of the transmission data and replaced the binder exactly as it was when they found it. Together, the four brothers left the building, not even a speck of microscopic dust out of place.

The Foot would never know they had been infiltrated.

Now, all the turtles had to do was sit back and wait…for sixteen days.

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Donnie called Sable around midnight. She answered, bleary eyed and gruff voice. She smiled when she heard Donnie's voice.

"Hey, handsome,' she muttered, cuddling into the blankets.

Donnie blushed a little, settling down behind his computers to prepare for a long time of coding.

"Miss you,' he said, phone balanced on his bony shoulder and pressed against his head so he could type.

"Miss you, too," Sable said around a yawn. "You going to pull an all nighter?"

Donnie nodded, though Sable couldn't see it.

"Yeah. Have a lot of work to do. I'm running behind."

"My superhero,' Sable sighed, which turned into a yawn.

"It's late. Get some sleep." Donnie nuzzled the phone, a poor substitute for the woman he loved. It did his heart good to hear her voice. He felt his spirit renewed, ready to tackle the impossible tasks Leo had in mind.

"Love you," Sable said, already drifting back to sleep.

"Love you, too," Donnie said sadly, ending the call.

Putting his phone away, he concentrated on his job.

After all, his brothers depended on him to keep them safe.

He couldn't let them down.

Not again.

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It wasn't unusual for Donnie to be engaged in several projects simultaneously. On any given day, he would wander around the lair, sitting at his computer bank, tinkering on a new invention, working on damaged vehicles, repairing Mikey's electronics, drawing up new schemes and designs for the multitude of projects swimming in his ever active brain.

But he was more active than usual.

Near maniacal.

Every computer screen was loaded with a program. Four Ipads were active. A partial equation was written on the blackboard in Donnie's makeshift laboratory. Several books lay open, half forgotten, their margins littered with Donnie's neat print.

Soldering iron, Bunsen burners, assorted nuts and bolts littered his workstation.

The lair was filled with the sounds of an angle grinder polishing a piece of metal Donnie was shaping as a protective piece of battle armor for the truck.

Few minutes later, he abandoned the angle grinder to climb into the garbage truck, yanking on the free hanging wires up above and applying electrical tape to a fray.

Five minutes later, he was holding up a measuring tape to Raph, who merely observed his distracted sibling with mild amusement. Circumference of shell scribbled down, Donnie measured Mikey, before going to his computers and checking over logs and system parameters.

"Is it just me, or is he crazier than usual?" Raph asked Master Splinter as he hobbled into the kitchen.

"Donatello has much on his mind," Splinter said wisely, eyeing his son from across the room. "His active mind requires motion to keep it calm."

"Don't seem calm to me," Raph grunted as Donnie got up and headed to the dojo, withdrawing his bo for a round of practice.

That is, until his mind skipped again and he was moving on to the next activity of interest.

"He is merely channeling his energy the best way he knows how," Splinter said.

Leo appeared, checking the fridge to make a grocery list for the food run later that evening.

"Leo, does Donnie seem different to you?" Raph asked, staring at the tunnel that led to the dojo.

"Donnie's always been different," Leo said without thinking, scribbling away on a grocery list.

"I mean, does he seem… super focused?" Raph asked, frowning, then grunted. "Or unfocused I should say. He's all over the place. Turtle won't hold still."

Leo took a deep breath, clearly put out by Raph's unfounded curiosity and glanced about the room.

"I don't see him," Leo said, waving a pencil nonchalantly. "You know him. He's always been a scatterbrain genius. Goes on these electronic and engineering binges. Where is he now?"

"Dojo," Raph said with a raised brow.

Leo paused, lips parting in surprise.

Of Donnie's many quirks, working out alone wasn't one of them.

It wasn't uncommon to see the purple banded turtle working at his computers, manning power tools that made more noise than Mikey, working in the niche that served as his impromptu lab. Donnie was a turtle of many talents. And plenty of distractions.

Even years of meditation had not helped him to focus his mind for any length of time.

Hence why he rarely slept. Their resident genius averaged only a handful of hours a week. Many times the brothers would wake to the sound of scratching and muttering, Donnie writing equations and theories on any available space.

"He's fine," Leo exhaled in annoyance. "Just Donnie being Donnie."

"Dunno," Raph said skeptically. "He's acting…off."

"Whatever," Leo said, waving his hand airily. "Anything you need from the store?"

Raph looked over the list. "Cheese. Mikey goes through it fast."

"Getting twenty blocks," Leo explained. "Should last him the week and keep him from the shredded stuff."

"Doubtful," Raph mused.

"Strawberries," Splinter put in. "And heavy cream."

Leo dutifully wrote down his father's request.

Donnie appeared, a glisten of sweat on his brow. As a focused missile, he zeroed in to the garbage truck, stepping up into the back and doing something that made the entire thing rock on its tires.

"Ten minute workout?" Raph smirked.

"Meh, keeps him busy." Leo ignored the shaking truck and asked Master Splinter. "Did you have any training planned this evening, Master Splinter?"

The rat pulled his concerned gaze from the truck to regard his eldest.

"Perhaps some focal training."

Mikey chose that minute to go sailing through the air on his skateboard. He jumped off, flipping four times before landing perfectly, hands going in the air to imaginary applause. His skateboard hovered nearby, its anti-gravity motor hissing in congratulations.

"And the crowd goes wild!" Mikey called, bowing to phantom fans.

"At least two hours," Splinter amended.

At that moment, Donnie exited the garbage truck and returned to his work station, settling down on the chair, the soldering iron soon melting pieces of circuitry.

"Maybe longer," Splinter quipped.

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Yes, Donnie is running himself ragged. Leo's words are still stinging his little heart and he's using work to balm his wounds.

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