Chapter 3

Five hours have passed by now and no matter how long he had chased Mikey around the lair, his heart just wasn't in it anymore. Duck taping Mikey to the kitchen table hadn't even cheered him up. The worry for his older brother was building. The Foot had been more active lately. He knew Leo could take care of himself and this wasn't that long anyway. But he just couldn't help but feel that he, Don, and Mikey had brushed him off. They were all just too busy. He didn't miss Leo poking his head in the upper garage. He hadn't said anything, but his brother still looked like he wanted some company. With Mikey playing games all night since the training run, there would've been no way to tear him away.

Right now Raph just threw another punch at his punching bag, watching it sway violently before he attacked it again. No matter what he said to Mikey just hours ago, he was worried for his brother.

Leo would've checked in hours ago.

His brother was predictable that way unless they'd had a fight. And there was no fight tonight, which was both surprising and a relief. He often wondered what went wrong, what came between them. The two used to be inseparable, now there was constant fighting and strife. He'd have to fix that. That is, if Leo was willing to do the same. But somehow, he had no doubt about that.

He jumped into a snap kick, shoving the bag forward, slipped around it, punching it to the right. Faster and faster his moves came until the punching bag was constantly moving, taking a violent beating from the red banded turtle.

"Whoa Raph ease up. What'd the bag do to you?" Mikey joked from the dojo's doorway.

Raph let the bag swing past him, turning his darkened gaze to his youngest brother. "Nothin'."

"You sure? It looks sort of beat up today."

"It always looks beat up."

"Well… more so than usual."

Raph snorted. "What's up? Leo back yet?"

"Nope," Mikey replied, leaning against the doorway. "Not yet. I'm sure he'll be walking in that door any minute now and we'll get this simple explanation."

"Since when is anything simple?"

Mikey frowned as if thinking hard.

Raph rolled his eyes. "It's never simple," he answered his own question.

"So call him. Or are you too chicken?" Mikey grinned and then bent his arms and began flapping his 'wings' as he made clucking sounds.

He could've sworn he felt a vein pop as he watched his brother do the chicken dance. Raph was ready to go chasing his brother again. Hadn't the duct tape shown him anything? Resisting the urge to run after him again, he pulled out his cell, actually dialing this time.

Mikey stood up straight and waited with a huge grin on his face.

Raph turned away and listened to the ringing. It rang and rang…

And rang…

And rang…

He finally frowned after the fifth one and hung up. So Leo didn't want to be bothered right now. That wasn't a crime.

"Nothing?" Mikey asked.

"Nope."

"You sure?"

"No. I'm not sure that after hearin' five rings that Leo doesn't want to pick up."

"I was just asking. But why wouldn't he? He always answers."

Mikey had a point… and it pained him to think that. There was no reason Leo wouldn't answer his cell unless he was caught or mad at one of them. The second didn't apply and he wasn't too worried about the first. Maybe he didn't hear it. "Why don't you give it a shot lamebrain."

"Ok, I will." The orange banded turtle dialed from his own cell and waited. After a few moments, Mikey shook his head. "Nothing."

"Give him awhile. He'll call back," Raph replied, going back to his bag, leaping for a jump kick. Nothing was wrong. For all they knew, Leo forgot his cell here. He snickered, hoping his brother did. He'd get to tease him all into next week!

The next time Leo opened his eyes, sunlight had filtered in through the slits in the walls around him. The rocking motion was still there, threatening to pull him under once more. Shaking the darkness from his mind, he sat up and looked around spotting holes in the walls and ceiling, not merely just slits. Frowning in confusion, he reached up to touch the wall, finding that he couldn't. His wrists were bound together behind his shell. Twisting and pulling, he found no give in the restraints.

"Well this is just great…" Leo murmured. "So, where am I?"

He pushed himself against the back wall to attempt to feel it with his fingers. The walls felt wooden, yet as if it were short planks going upward and long when he felt left to right. A wooden box…

"Bound and sitting in a crate, you'd think the Foot would be a little more creative," Leo mused. "So then, where are they sending me and how?"

Not being able to answer the first question, he listened for anything outside of the box that could tell him how they were moving him. There were only three options that he could think of. Truck, boat, or plane. It was too quiet for plane travel and he didn't think a truck would make a rocking motion like he was feeling now. It was too exaggerated to belong to a truck, which only left a boat to make the most sense movement wise. By the noises he heard, he would have to agree with the boat conclusion. He could hear seagulls, bells, and the quiet roar of the ocean around him.

"Ok, it's a boat. But that doesn't answer where."

Footsteps echoed somewhere outside his box.

Leo waited as they came closer. Creaking sounded above him seconds later. Squinting up into the light, he saw a rugged figure towering over him.

'Well that's not the Foot…' he thought to himself.

Dark coal eyes glared down on him as the man muttered to himself in another language. He couldn't quite place it, but Leo wasn't sure he wanted to know what the man was saying anyways.

Tensing to get ready to jump out of the open box, two more heads peered over the edges of the box, glaring down on him. Looking from one man to the next, Leo pressed himself a little further back to the darkened corner of his box. The third man held a long, wicked looking gun that hovered between pointing at him and the ceiling.

The man with the gun started yelling at the other two, shouting and pointing madly.

Leo slowly stood. If he could jump out before the gun man noticed, he could look for a dark place to hide until he could get off the ship. Then he'd just have to figure out where he was.

The gunman shouted again more loudly, the gun going off at the ceiling.

Leo flinched from the sound of the shot, standing just as the lid slammed down on him. Groaning from the lid's hit to his head, he slumped down once more. He was so close. The man's head was turned just enough that in another second, he would've been out of the box unharmed, well at least not immediately shot at. But he would've been out.

He frowned. He'd be ready when the lid was opened again. If they were on the ocean, it would be weeks until they got to wherever it was they were going. They had to feed him sometime. And then he would strike.

It had been two nights now and Leo had yet to call. Raph had called just one more time that night. Again there was no answer. Where was Leo? They had gone out by 5am after a third call to their older brother that hadn't been picked up. They found Leo's shell cell, sliced to bits on the New York rooftops, but no Leo. And no sign of the Foot either. They had just vanished. If he could find out where they were hiding, he'd either find Leo or find someone who knew where the Foot was.

So that was what he was doing tonight. Don and Mikey had gone to check out the area around the park and where they had found the busted cell. He was going to the docks.

"We'll find you Leo," Raph muttered. "Count on it."