Chapter 4

Ignoring Don for the moment, I keep my eyes fixed on Baxter Stockman. He looks like hell. That's no real surprise—neither time nor fate has ever been kind to the man—but his latest incarnation is particularly dour. Just as the last time we'd met, his physical self is down to brain and eyeball. His eye isn't quite as bright and clear as once it was, though, and his robotic body looks worn and a bit rusted.

I barely have a half-second to take in his appearance before I see something much more important. In his hands is a laser rifle.

Now, I never did become a full ninja, but I didn't survive this long by just being pretty. Diving forward, I crash hard into Don's upper plastron, and my momentum and weight are enough to send him toppling backwards. Fortunately, I'm quick enough that the first laser blast misses entirely. Unfortunately, the second blast grazes my knee, sending white-hot pain searing down my entire leg.

As I stagger to my feet, Stockman chuckles. "My former lab assistant and good old Donatello? What a wonderful day this truly is." He reloads his rifle. "Give me what is mine, April dear, and you'll go unharmed."

He's lying through his teeth. Well, he'd be lying through his teeth if he still had teeth …

A flash of light tears across my line of vision, and the next thing I know, Stockman's robotic form is flung against the far wall. Quickly glancing down, I see Don lying sprawled on the floor, staring intently, arm outstretched with smoking laser gun in hand.

"Typical Stockman," gloats Don, jumping to his feet. "Because April was the only one who stood up, April was the only one you were watching." He shakes his head in mock disappointment. "Pitiful."

Just as Stockman begins to stir, Don shoots him again, this time shattering the glass that protects his brain. Stockman cries out in pain, bringing a nasty grin to Don's face, just before his robotic head slumps to his chest. Slowly, like a prowling tiger, Don stalks towards the fallen man.

Meanwhile, I take my gun and check down the hall, but it appears clear. For the moment. I look over my shoulder. Donatello has placed a foot on Stockman's metallic chest and has his gun aimed directly at the exposed, soft, gray flesh of the scientist's brain.

Whirling all the way around, I scream Don's name. But Donatello doesn't even flinch. "I'm just putting him out of his misery," he explains, in a maddeningly conversational tone.

"Remember our deal, Don? Shooting as a last resort?" I knew the deal wouldn't keep the sadistic bastard from killing, every bit as much as I knew that killing was probably going to be inevitable. But I'd hoped it would at least restrain Don a little.

"Deals are made to be broken, April."

I can hear the smirk in his voice. As he places his finger on the laser gun's trigger, I take a step forward. My hands begin to shake, and I consciously tighten my hold on my gun so that I won't drop it. Stockman is unconscious, which means he isn't a threat to us anymore. This isn't self-defense here—it's not even fair play. It's simply murder. And I can't just stand by and watch Don kill someone in cold blood. Not even Baxter Stockman.

So I raise my own gun and take aim.

Carefully, steadily, I pull the trigger. The recoil is much stronger than I'd expected, and it sends a jolt down my injured leg. But even though I wince at the pain, even though the bang is deafening, above everything I can hear and feel the thundering of my own heart.

"Shell!"

Immediately Donatello drops his own gun and grabs his bleeding arm. As he falls to one knee, he looks over at me and, to my surprise, he doesn't looks angry. He just looks shocked. He never thought I'd actually shoot him, I can tell. But then the shock slowly drains from his already ashen face, and his eyes narrow down to dangerous slits. He pulls himself to his feet and lurches towards me.

Frozen in place, I tell myself to shoot him again. I have to shoot him again. Our shaky truce has been blown all to pieces, and right now there's nothing to stop him from killing me. But for some reason I can't move. I can't even breathe.

He reaches me in three long strides, and my eyes clamp shut involuntarily. I feel him grab my waist and begin fiddling with my belt. Oh God, no. No, not that. Not that. Even he wouldn't … would he? I just don't know. Really, I don't know Donatello at all anymore.

But after ripping my belt off, he lets me go. After a heartbeat or two, I slowly let out the breath I've been holding. Then I open my eyes, in time to see Don wrapping my belt around his bleeding arm. Silently I watch as he gives it a solid tug and fastens it in place.

That accomplished, he glances up and notices that I'm staring. Shrugging slightly, he explains, "I needed something for a tourniquet."

"You have your own belt, y'know." So odd, how quickly my fear has been replaced by annoyance.

He arches an eye-ridge. "Yes. A very expensive ostrich skin belt."

I stare at him, and he stares back. And then, it finally dawns on me—Donatello isn't going to kill me. At least, not at the moment. Then his eyes break away from mine, as he kneels down to retrieve his weapon.

Standing back up, he jerks his head towards the right. "Stockman's people will have heard the laser fire, so let's get a move on."

And, before I've even gotten my bearings back, he begins sprinting down the hall at a full-out run. I take off after him. From behind I can hear voices and, from the sound of things, the voices are getting closer. I speed up, charging towards the relative safety of the elevators, pushing myself so hard that my hurt leg screams in pain with every pounding step.

Just as I round the corner, Donatello reaches the elevators ahead. He holds the door for me and, when I finally catch up, gives me a look filled with grudging admiration. "I must admit, April," he says as soon as the elevator doors close behind us, "that was pretty good aim for such an inexperienced shooter."

"Not really." Despite myself, I grin a little. "I was actually aiming for your head."

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Author's Notes: Nope, April's not as soft as Don had thought. It's all part of the game those two are playing with one another. And no, this isn't the last chapter at all—there's a few more until the epilogue, I promise.