Alarms screamed throughout the disgruntled and confused organization as members rushed from one location to the other. It had been less than a week since the Shredder's last visit to the laboratory, and now it seemed like a sick joke. The scientist who had once led the BETA project now shuffled uncomfortably outside the massive closed doors. He was not looking forward to explaining to his master that the test subject had escaped. They had underestimated her determination to be free. None of them had thought she would be capable of breaking free of the vat, let alone get out of the laboratory, and to think she'd make it through the main corridors without incident just seemed impossible. They hadn't taken enough security measures. They should have listened to the rumors of the demon assassin. Taking a shaking breath, the small man pushed the doors open.
He almost hoped to find the adjacent room empty, but he was not so lucky. Shredder was positioned at the far end of the room, his two most prized subordinates stood to either side, and his personal guard of four elite ninjas stood vigilante against the east wall. Swallowing hard, the scientist inched inside letting the heavy doors close behind him.
"Speak." Shredder commanded impatiently.
"Please forgive me, Master, but… T-the BETA Project subject… S-she's escaped." He explained nervously, dispensing with any niceties to offset his master's predictable rage. However, the man only turned his attention to the brutish mountain-of-a-man to his left who supplied a quick nod of acknowledgement for some unspoken command, and swiftly departed the chamber with the elite ninja close on his heels. Confused, and a little curious, the scientist watched the five men exit the vestibule with a bewildering stare before his attention was pulled back to the remaining two bodies in the room.
The Shredder appeared to be bored with the wailing sirens that still echoed faintly through the heavy doors, but bore no expression of malcontent towards the scientist's proclamation of failure. It sent shivers down his spine. Surely the notoriously intolerant master of ninjutsu was displeased with his incompetence. The little man was almost sure that his master hadn't heard him and he hesitantly opened his mouth to reiterate his claim when the black haired woman at his side took a menacing step forward.
"The escape was expected." She explained shortly, "The project has advanced to Stage Two."
"But- It's not ready!" The scientist exclaimed worriedly, throwing his hands out in front of his body as if expecting to be shoved forward to his knees. "There are still many more DNA strand applications and modifications to be administered, and we're still trying to figure out why the configuration won't remain stabilized! It's not ready for a field test, let alone Stage Two!"
"Are you doubting our master's decision?!" The woman hissed warningly, a hand reaching across her abdomen to grasp the hilt of a katana that hung from her waist.
"N-no, no. Not at all, I-I'm just saying the project isn't ready yet…" The man blubbered uncomfortably, his dark gaze lingering on the partially concealed ninja weapon.
"Enough!" Shredder suddenly interjected, rising from his seat with surprising swiftness, he descended the small dais and swept past his scientist as he too exited the room. "The project will proceed to Stage Two. Your services are no longer required. Be gone from my sight, Wretch." The simple dismissal bore with it a heavy warning that had the little man tensing in anticipation until the seasoned warrior had left the chamber. As the heavy door swung open, the scientist realized that some time in the last minute or two, someone had turned off the screaming alarms.
From his left, the female ninja was speaking rapidly into a radio as she followed her master from the chamber, though she paused at the door to glance back at the scientist. "BETA Project," She sneered unhappily, "It better produce results, or else it will be your head that rolls." She warned before bringing the radio back to her lips and barking orders in Japanese. As the little man quickly retreated from the chamber, the only things he understood were; "Recapture is not an option" and "shoot to immobilize".
The scientist's position did not warrant an explanation of the project's progression past Stage One, and therefore he had no idea what Stage Two entailed. All he knew was that the young Japanese woman he had slaved away to turn into a giant humanoid turtle was going to do some kind of specialized work directly under Shredder's orders. Was that tiny little woman perhaps one of the Shredder's elite warriors? It didn't seem possible, but based on the way the higher ups in the organization were treating her unpredictable release upon the world, he was beginning to think she was. He also wondered where Hun and the Elite Four had slithered off to.
A swarm of armed Foot soldiers bustled past the scientist, nearly unbalancing him in their haste, and then disappeared just as quickly as they had appeared. It was enough of a signal to instruct the little man to drop his head and hurry back to the dungeon laboratories. Apparently, he was no longer affiliated with the BETA Project, and therefore it was no longer his business to ponder the fate of his experiment.
The drone of impatient drivers and drunkards chorused from the streets below as daily life continued for the citizens of New York City. Unbeknownst to any of them, they were being closely monitored from a roof's edge by a set of cold amber eyes. "What're we doin' up here?" Raphael groaned boringly, as his guarded gaze followed the path of a woman clad in a red cocktail dress as she shimmied carelessly through the crowded street until she stopped in the middle of a gathering of other women dressed in similar dresses of varying colors, lengths, and styles. He could hear the volume their giggles from his perch, far above them as they linked arms and continued farther up the street before finally disappearing into a local night club.
From behind the man-sized turtle an equally droll voice drew his attention from the streets below. "Would you rather be cooped up inside all night? Now shut up and get away from the edge before someone sees you."
"Don't talk to me like I don't know what I'm doin'." Raphael countered, but pushed away from the edge nonetheless, trudging past the water tower ladder from which his orange clad brother dangled by the crook of his knees. A wild sneer pulling at his lips as he drew himself quickly upright, before letting his muscles fall limp again. The red masked ninja scoffed at the display while his brother repeated the exercise again and again. While, just a couple more steps ahead, his remaining two brothers huddled in the middle of the flat roof, domed heads lowered as they poured over a map. The colors of their purple and blue bandanas fading into the same indigo color of midnight in the darkening light. Other than the difference in weaponry attached to their dark shells, distinguishing the two man-sized turtles apart was near impossible in the current lighting. At least, it would be for anyone who wasn't already accustomed to their individual mannerisms. Leonardo stood rigidly straight, shoulders back, always aware of his surroundings even when he didn't appear to be. While Donatello was hunched slightly, more interested in the rectangular scrap of paper spread across the rooftop than anything else.
"It's a high stakes scavenger hunt." Donnie mumbled a second later, mulling over the map. He tapped the paper in quick succession following some kind of pattern through the maze-like marks.
"Sounds fun!" Michelangelo cheered excitedly as he kicked off the rung he hung from, flipping once through the air to land perfectly on his feet before he too joined the group. "But what are we looking for?"
"I can't figure that out." Donnie responded, balling his fingers into a fist and resting his knuckles on the edge of the paper. "This is just a map of some locations and weird riddles. It doesn't make any sense, and I swear I'm going to kill April for helping Sensei come up with this ridiculous test." He groaned, as he pulled the map apart into four quadrants and handed one to his rigid brother. "We're just going to have to go to each of these locations and follow the riddles and try to figure it out. But there are too many places to stay as a group, and there are four maps. My guess is we're each supposed to go to the marked locations on these maps – by ourselves – and try to solve the puzzles." The purple masked mutant conceded, as he handed maps to his other two brothers.
Inspecting his own map quickly, Leo leered over Raphael's shoulder to see the marked location he would be investigating. "These are some pretty heavily populated areas." He concluded, as his brown gaze turned to Michelangelo's map. "This is more than a test of wit. This is a test of stealth." He added solemnly.
"Like we haven't already mastered that aspect of our training?" Raphael hissed in response.
"Apparently Master Splinter wants to test just how well we've mastered the art of stealth," Leonardo retorted.
"That, or he thinks we've become complacent and neglectful of our teachings." Donatello supplied, as he reached over, took possession of the map Michelangelo held, and rotated the piece of paper quickly before returning it to his brother's grasping clutches.
"Why would he think that?" Mikey asked as revelation dawned upon him once he could recognize the part of the city he was to investigate.
"I don't know, Mikey, maybe because we've become complacent and neglectful of our teachings?" Donnie quipped as he glanced towards his other two brothers, waiting for one of them to reproach him. But they were both silent and a look of shame ghosted across their features, though it was gone before it could really be recognized as the hot-headed Raphael stepped forward.
"And why shouldn't we?" He demanded sharply, "With Hun locked up, the Purple Dragons have pretty much disappeared and the few that are left ain't more than child's play to deal with. And ever since we humiliated Shredder last year, we haven't seen hide or hair of the Foot Clan. The world has been safe from an apocalypse for over a year now. Why can't we relax a bit?"
"Maybe because we don't know when Shredder's going to start acting up again." Donnie pointed out, turning his dark brown eyes to his brother who was nodding his agreement.
"He's got a point, Raph." Leo agreed, "For all we know, Shredder's just biding his time to strike again. He could be hiding in that fortress of his scheming an even bigger mess for us to clean up. In all the years we've been struggling against the Foot Clan, how many times have we defeated the Shredder and he actually stayed that way? It might be a good idea to get back in shape."
With a groan, Raphael shook his head, but turned his amber eyes to the map of locations he held in his hand. Finding the nearest location to their current position, the red masked mutant didn't give his brother a chance to pile on more orders. He approached the edge of the roof again and in a single bound, sailed across the short gap between roofs and disappeared into the night. Even he had to admit doing something was better than what they'd been doing for the past six months, which was waiting around for something to happen. For someone to attack them or declare war upon them, anything, but their lives had become quiet since their latest conquest over Shredder and his lackeys. He'd never admit to it, but he was probably just as bored of waiting as his brothers were.
After a moment, he blocked out all others thoughts and just relished the wind in his face as he raced across the shadowed rooftops. He ran and ran until his burning lungs forced him to slow to a trot.
His quadrant of the city happened to be the furthest from where the brothers had parted ways; some of the locations were in excess of five miles from where they had started. He momentarily wondered which of his kinsman wouldn't have to travel very far to reach their first destination, but again, quelled the curiosity in deference to the chilled late autumn air against his unprotected skin.
He wasn't sure how far he'd travelled when he was suddenly jerked to a stop. Glancing quickly around, the ninja disappeared into the thick shadows cast from a nearby chimney as he listened to the approaching voices. They were as out of breath as he was, and sounded like a group of at least four people. Listening to the conversation, Raphael found himself surprised when his straining ears plucked out a handful of familiar words. "Shredder… Foot Clan… Target… Elimination…" Along with a string of commands, but only one that stood out among the others, "Shoot to maim."
Foot goons with guns, that was always a reassuring thought, Raphael seethed as his fingers inched toward the sais at his waist. He was more than ready to knock a couple Foot Clan soldiers out, and he was just preparing to make his assault when the first gunshot ricocheted through the air. Nearly jumping, Raphael's attention was drawn to the horizon as a tinny mechanized voice joined the fray of the group he had stumbled into.
"Target spotted! Target spotted!" The voice was declaring desperately, "Engage! Engage! Target is moving north, all units respond!" Fear crept through the ninja turtle's veins and a cold sweat began trickling from his domed head. He could think of three "targets" that the Foot Clan would be interested in hunting down.
Swallowing hard, a second gunshot in the night gave the ninja a new incentive. Forgetting the map, he let the piece of paper flutter carelessly to the rooftop as he rounded the chimney he hid behind. The Foot Clan ninjas were already gone, but he still had to be careful. The last thing he wanted to do was draw unwanted attention to himself.
He ran north for several minutes but soon found himself hiding more than moving. There were Foot soldiers everywhere. And every one of them was carrying some kind of military-grade sniper rifle. It seemed wrong to the mutant ninja turtle to see the guns, they weren't the usual accessory the Foot Clan chose. In fact, he couldn't even remember a time when the Foot Clan using guns before tonight. Was it a new tactic they were trying? What was the Shredder up to?
Drawing his tongue quickly over his dry, crackled lips Raphael wondered if he shouldn't risk drawing attention to himself or his brothers by using his shellcell. He was just reaching for the tiny device when another group of ninjas hurdled past him, dangerously close. Biting back a hiss, the red masked turtle pressed himself deeper into the shadows.
Another gunshot rang through the night. Again and again. A total of five shots in the night. Regardless of whatever plan the Shredder had concocted this time, Raphael was pleased to think the Foot ninjas weren't very good snipers at the very least. Five shots for three turtles, there was still a chance his brothers were safe. Turning his head a fraction, the banded turtle took notice of the roof's edge within reaching distance. He needed to get off the roof; there were too many Foot ninjas for him to keep moving safely along the rooftops. Leaning cautiously from his hiding place, the turtle was glad to see the gap between buildings was another desolate alley with more hiding places than he could hope for.
Quickly surveying his surrounding once more, Raphael leapt over the edge as soon as he was sure he wouldn't be spotted. "Rusty my shell." He mumbled as he descended silently into darkness. However, once he landed in a crouch among a pile of rubbish and trash, he didn't take into account that there would be even more black-clad ninja combing the ground too. What were they looking for?! It seemed strange that Shredder would just up and decide one day to hunt the turtles down after over a year. There had to be something he was missing.
Suddenly, with a roll of thunder far in the distance, Raphael watched as three ninjas rounded a corner and disappeared down the alley directly across the street from him. They each held their weapons high across their chests, ready to aim and fire at the slightest noise. Frankly, the turtle should have been more concerned with finding his brothers, but a long ago silenced primal desire to crack some skulls together drew the turtle stealthily from his shadowed corner. The opportunity was too perfect to pass up. Drawing his sais, he darted across the empty street as fast as his legs would carry him and followed the three ninjas.
Like a shadow, the turtle made quick work of the unsuspecting ninjas before they even had a chance to realize they'd been followed. "Real rusty." He huffed sarcastically, as he nudged one of the motionless bodies with his foot. Leo and Donnie were paranoid, he finally decided as he knelt to pick up one of the guns for inspection. Donnie would probably want to check it out. But as his fingers brushed against the cold metal he noticed something else; a trail of blood leading further into the alley.
Confused, the mutant turned his head enough to follow the thick red droplets with his assessing amber eyes. Eventually, they came to rest on a figure hidden the shadowy depths. Jerking to attention, the ninja straightened and started toward the cowering silhouette. "H-Hey," He stammered as his confused brain tried to piece the situation together. The creature was obviously too small to be one of his brothers, but based on the blood trail, the Foot Clan had to have been trailing it. Was this their intended target?
The shadows moved slightly, and Raphael realized the creature was debating whether or not his was a friend or another enemy. Taking notice of the hesitance and the sais still clenched in his fists, he quickly replaced the ninja weapons to their holsters before holding his empty palms out in front of him, slowly easing further into the darkness. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt ya." He pleaded, maneuvering quickly past the fallen Foot ninjas. The alley went a little deeper still, but he also knew it ended in a dead end. The only way out of the alley was the way he'd come in. He took a couple more cautious steps forward, enough for him to make out a clear silhouette and his breath caught in his throat. He was almost certain his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe his eyes as the creature attempted to stand. But her legs wouldn't support her weight and she collapsed back to the puddle of blood she was kneeling in. Only then did Raphael notice the thick rivulet of red fluid coursing from her shoulder and a smaller stream spilling across her leg. She'd been shot. She'd been shot at least once. He couldn't tell if the wound on her leg was as bad as her shoulder.
"Hasha…" A feathery voice suddenly whispered before the female mutant turtle started to topple over. Raphael didn't think. He simply sprinted the short distance to the woman, pulling her into his embrace before she hit the ground. She was barely awake, her eye lids heavy as she brought a shaking, bloody hand to his chest. "Hasha…" She whispered again before her hand fell limp, leaving a bloody hand print on Raphael's plastron just above his heart.