Chapter 4: Unmasked and Unarmed
The head Dragon grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. He handed the O'Neil woman over to his second-in-command and strolled over to his new hostages, who were held down tightly by three Dragons each. He glanced at the turtles, and the grin slipped a bit. "Only three? Aren't there supposed to be four? Bishop won't like that."
Leo, Raph, and Mikey exchanged nervous glances. Bishop?
But the Dragon had already recovered his grin. He stepped towards the Ghost. "Well, well! Aren't you an unexpected little bonus?" he said, all but licking his lips in delight. He smirked. "So, the Black Ghost goes down because of a woman." He spat, and the glob of spittle slowly trickled down the Ghost's expressionless mask. "You're pathetic."
The Ghost said nothing.
The Dragon continued, "The only reason I haven't slit your throat already is because Bishop promised us a lot of money to bring all of you in alive." He laughed nastily. "But Bishop didn't say nothing about you, Ghost. Or about us having some …fun." With that he punched his captive in the stomach, and the Ghost stumbled and fell to his knees.
Mikey struggled momentarily to break free, and Raph glared daggers. But this only seemed to amuse the Dragons more.
"Relax, boys. We're just getting started," the lead Dragon informed them, still smirking. Then he turned and delivered a vicious kick to the Ghost's head. As the Ghost let out a groan, the Dragon grabbed him by his hood and pulled him back to his feet. "So who wants to see what's behind the mask? Whaddaya say, Purple Dragons? Wanna see his mild-mannered alter-ego?"
The gang laughed.
"Bet he's ugly."
"Wonder if he's really an alien, like Bishop thinks."
"Who cares? Take the mask off!"
"Yeah! Take it off!"
"Sounds like it's unanimous," chuckled the head Dragon. With both hands he held onto the Ghost's shoulders and turned the man towards Casey and the turtles. "Time to say hello to your fallen hero!"
One of the head Dragon's flunkies stepped forward and tore away the hood, while a second Dragon ripped off the mask. At the sudden influx of bright light, the Ghost blinked rapidly. His pupils shrank down to pinpricks and, after a moment to adjust, his brown eyes slowly scanned the room. They landed on April and stayed there.
She stared back at him.
The head Dragon slapped his knee, laughing again. "If that don't beat all!" Then he noticed a piece of electronics around the Ghost's throat and grew serious. Pointing, he asked, "What's that?"
"Voice modulator." The Ghost's eyes moved from April to the Dragon. "It's why I sound like this—like a robot."
The Dragon nodded towards the girl who'd ripped off the mask. "Get rid of that. I wanna hear what this punk really sounds like." After she'd done as he asked, the Dragon leaned in close and squinted. "So, which one are you, anyways?"
Speaking a bit hesitantly, as he was long unaccustomed to his natural voice, the Black Ghost replied, "My name is Hamato Donatello."
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Leonardo stared straight ahead into the dark. His wrists already ached from where he was shackled to the wall. He tugged on the restraints experimentally, but they were almost molded to an exact fit. Not to mention electronically locked with a computer-based override. There was no way brute force could free him.
Though he didn't know how they were going to get out of this, or even if they were going to get out of this, he did know exactly whose fault this was. In a low dangerous voice he muttered, "You should never have come back."
"It's my fault, bro," interrupted Mike quickly. "I'm the one who emailed Don and asked him to come."
Leo ignored his youngest brother. "Not to mention," he continued, "the absolute nerve you have, to call yourself a Hamato after what you—"
"Leo, stop it." April's voice cut like a knife through the stagnant air of their cell.
He snorted and felt his temper flare. "No need to get upset, April. I just want to hear what the Boy Wonder has to say for himself." He glanced over at Don, who remained infuriatingly impassive. "So, Ghost, any last words before Bishop comes to finish us off? Any confessions? Wanna tell us how it felt to murder your own father?"
Raph interrupted this time: "Dammit, Leo!"
But before Raph could get any farther, Don let out a triumphant crow. "Got it!"
A small hissing noise followed, and Don's shackles popped open. Turning to Leo, Don held up a tiny screwdriver, which he'd squirreled away god-knows-where, and grinned that cocky little grin of his. He quickly moved over to where Leo remained shackled and began working on Leo's restraints. He was so close, Leo could smell his breath. "Took me a while to find the right wires to cut," Don explained apologetically.
Silently Leo glared.
Don glanced up and continued, "I know you hate me. And I probably deserve it. That said … " Don nodded towards the others before continuing. "You don't have time to hate me right now. Let's get everyone out of here, then you can hate me all you want. Deal?" And with that, Don flicked his wrist, cutting a final wire, and stepped back.
Leo pulled his hands free and tenderly rubbed his bruised wrists. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, anxious, expectant. "Deal," he said grudgingly, turning to guard the cell door while Don moved over to work on Casey's shackles.
---
"It smells in here," Mikey complained.
Raph rolled his eyes but kept crawling. "That's 'cause it's a ventilation shaft, dummy." He sniffed the air and crinkled his beak in disgust. "God knows what's crawled up here to die."
"Hopefully not us," Casey joked.
From behind him, April muttered, "Very funny."
Then they heard it—a loud piercing siren, wailing through the halls below them. Followed by shouting and the stomping of multiple pairs of boots. In the ventilation shaft no one moved a muscle.
"Well," whispered Don, "I guess they found out that we escaped."
Raph snorted. "Thanks for the newsflash, genius."
Up at the front of the group, Leo looked over his shoulder. "Don? How long until they find us?"
"Oh, wow." Don sighed and shook his head. "Really hard to say for sure."
"Give us an estimate, then." Leo's tone held a slight edge.
Don gulped audibly. "Matter of minutes, Leo," he replied, and the worry was evident in his voice.
"Enough time to get out of the building?"
"Negative."
Leo swore. He turned back around, staring ahead into the dark depths of the shaft, and made his decision. "Then we make our stand," he told them. He crawled forward again, to the next ventilation opening, and quickly pried off the covering.
---
Bullets rained down like hail from an overhead walkway, its stainless steel gleaming in the search lights. As the four ninjas leapt and dodged the lethal shower, they also tried to keep themselves between their human friends and the gunmen. To serve as shields. It didn't help that more soldiers were down on the ground, fighting in hand-to-hand combat.
Meanwhile, from behind the protective wall of green, April stood in front of a large computer terminal, her slender fingers flying across the keyboard. They'd been lucky enough to find themselves in a command room of sorts. Nearby Casey alternated between nervously watching her work, ducking behind a console to avoid the gunfire, and taking swings at the government goons who got too near.
A soldier finally landed a punch, sending Donatello staggering backwards into the terminal, only just missing taking out April. Slightly harried, he glanced up at the computer screen. "Haven't you found an alternate escape route yet?"
"I'm working on it," said April through gritted teeth. Under normal circumstances, she'd be delighted to learn that her old friend was still alive. Under the current circumstances, she was remembering how annoying he could sometimes be.
But before she could say anything else, he'd pushed off and was back in the fray.
Up near the front, Raph threw out his fists in a series of furious, lightning-quick punches. The soldiers crumpled around him. Dodging his pursuers, Mikey leapt and grabbed onto the bottom of the walkway. He hung on for a few moments before letting go, back-flipping onto the head of the nearest goon and tackling him to the ground. Leo rushed forward, smashing shoulder-first into a soldier, and tried to ignore how his hands practically begged to hold his katanas.
"Broke the code!" came the shout from behind.
"About time." Mike rolled his eyes and started backing up. His brothers did the same. "Man, I wish I had my 'chucks right now," he added as an afterthought.
Once they were within earshot of April, she screamed above the gunfire, "I've got a series of access tunnels for us. Just follow me."
Casey glanced at the computer screen to April and back. "Won't they just follow us there too?" he asked and ducked a kick.
"Not if someone stays behind to distract them," said Leo.
Don nodded thoughtfully. "I'll be the one to stay."
Nearby Mike blocked a few punches and shot his brother an incredulous look. "No way," he protested. "We should all stick together. Like always."
"No time to argue," Leo barked out, "so let's get a move on." Without another word, Leo grabbed Mikey's arm and threw him in the direction that April was already heading. Casey quickly followed after, while Raph turned to look at Don.
The other turtle had already charged ahead and was surrounded by soldiers. An arc of blood spurted into the air as one of the walkway gunners finally hit his mark, and Donatello stumbled and fell.
"Raphael!" Raph glanced back to see Leo tugging on his arm. He gave another look Don's way before turning away. As he followed the dark corridor April had led them down, Raphael wondered if Leo's decision to leave Don behind was the act of a dispassionate leader or the act of an avenging son. Or both.
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Author's Notes: So the identity of the Black Ghost is a surprise to exactly no one, except possibly the characters themselves. But hopefully waiting to see their reactions to the grand revelation provided some of the tension I was aiming for. Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing!