Donatello made brief contact with Luke, and relayed the situation with Leonardo.

"You're sure he's stable?" Luke verified.

"His vitals are a little out of whack, but I'm not picking up anything serious. He's lucid, and talking normally. How long are you going to stay out there?"

"Until they leave, unless something changes with Leo. Keep me posted."

"All right. Don't let them see you," Don reminded him for the fourteenth time.

"You sound like a mother hen. Look after your brother."

In the back-seat Leonardo was partially propped up so he could see the others, and suddenly gave Jenna a strange look. "Don't you usually wear some kind of chain?"

"My medallion, you mean? Yeah I...I must 'ave lost it sometime tonight. I'm pretty sure it's gone."

"I'm pretty sure it's not." He gave her a half smile while he pulled something from the pouch on his belt, and held it out to her.

She took the necklace with disbelief, staring at cold metal as if it would evaporate into thin air.

"How?" Jenna whispered.

"It caught the moonlight by the fence. I scooped it up...literally right before the pair of guys were on top of me."

"Leonardo, you don't know what it means to me. My real father had this engraved when I was just a baby. It's the only thing I have left of him."

She turned to include Raph and Mike, who'd drawn closer to see what she was talking about. Jenna held the necklace up in the dome light to display it better. The medallion was made of silver, encrusted with tiny blue sapphires that shone like stars. It was engraved with the words Paradiso Inviar.

"What does it mean?" Mike asked her.

"Heaven Sent," she replied tightly, and ran her finger down the length of the chain. "The clasp is broken."

"I could fix it for you," Donatello volunteered from behind the seat, effectively startling her again.

"I'd appreciate that." She sent him a shy smile. After handing it over to him, she looked back to Leonardo. "Thank you. For everything."

"I'm just glad we were paranoid." Leo winced, from what was probably a sudden stab of pain.

"No more talking, bro," Raph ordered "You should be lying down."

"He's right," Donatello agreed. "I want you to stay awake, but don't do anything else. We might be here a while."

Luke watched the men struggle with their vehicle for several minutes, from a distance of about a block away. No matter how hard they worked, Donnie had told him the co2 would take a time to burn off.

Nearly half an hour passed, during which he conversed a couple of times with the purple-masked turtle. As he set down the radio for the third time the van finally sputtered, and then started. Luke sat up straighter, and watched them pile excitedly back into the car.

The van started rolling, slowly at first and then picking up speed. It traveled west down the street, the same direction turtles had fled. Luke held his breath as he saw it take a left about five blocks down. He decided to wait a couple minutes yet, to make sure they were absolutely done with the area. Almost seven silent minutes passed, before he decided to start his own car.

Luke's heart rate was finally relaxing, and he found that he was actually glad it was over. He headed west as well, watching for the fourth block which would be his own left turn. As Luke neared the street and hit his turn signal, the black van suddenly peeled back out of the road he'd been about to turn on, intentionally blocking his path.

Luke slammed on the brakes so hard that his radio went flying. His heart (which had momentarily stopped) raced again while he frantically tried to find the hand-held communicator or his phone. A loud knock at the driver's side door made him jolt upright, to see a semi-automatic weapon pointed at his head.

"Out! Get out of the car!"

He froze, neither moving nor outright refusing.

The stranger struck the window again, more forcefully this time. "Out of the car! "

He slowly obeyed, shuddering while ducking from his vehicle. Two sets of iron grips yanked him around the side of the van, and out of sight from the road. Luke instinctively fought their grasp, but their force on his arms only increased.

The men were clearly angry. Luke theorized that since they'd lost their intended prize for the second time, they were probably ticked enough to take it out on anyone in their path. It didn't explain what they could possibly want from him.

It occurred to him that he should yell, but his attempt to shout ended with another man punching him in the gut, knocking the wind out him. As Luke started to double over, someone else grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up.

Two men filled his line of vision, landing successive blows to his face and chest. He managed to get part of a cry off, before another fist connected a shattering blow with his jaw.

Luke lost sight of everything for a minute, head buzzing strangely. He found himself slumped forward, kept upright now only by the men on either side of him.

"All right, we don't want 'im to bail out completely," a strong aussie accent said over him. "Pick him up."

Someone slapped him persistently until the buzzing faded, and the young man managed to focus his blurry gaze.

"Hey, bloke. You with me?" the speaker asked cooly.

Luke managed to blink, but said nothing as the stranger waved off the men still holding weapons trained on him. The figure smiled thinly, and pulled something from his belt while he approached him.

"Guns and bad guys, they go together like cheese and vegemite some say. Me, I think they're a little overrated. Call me old-fashioned, but I've always been partial to a good piece of steel."

The leader held a knife blade in front of his face, then pressed it lightly to Luke's throat. The young man closed his eyes to avoid the sight and tried very hard to keep from trembling.

"Oh, a gun's great for killing. But if you want some real sport, there's nothing like gutting some random guy like a fish. It's an almost...primal thrill." The stranger needled the tip a little stronger.

"But you aren't random, are ya?" his attacker continued. "Saw your car sitting back by the construction site. I know for a fact, no one's supposed to park there. So what were you doing?"

"Nothing," he forced out. "I was just tired. Might have had too much to drink."

Dark eyes narrowed at him. "I also know an intoxicated man when I see one. I'll ask ya again: what were you doing back there?"

"I didn't do anything!"

The pressure of the knife was so hard, Luke was positive he was going to cut him.

"Sir," someone spoke up tentatively. "We've got a missed call from Helms. Are you gonna tell him?"

The man in front of Luke grunted in frustration. "You're really lucky I'm short on time. Help me out, and I might let you live for another night. I need some good directions, mate."

"What?"

"I'm looking for a fancy hotel, can't remember the exact moniker. Somethin' about a flying eagle?"

Luke struggled to remain completely still when the stranger shifted the knife blade under his chin.

"Gold Falcon," he corrected under duress. "You're probably thinking of the Gold Falcon."

"Now, that's a good bloke. Can y' tell me how to get there?"

Luke fired off shaky directions, repeating portions over again for the man who was writing it down. The speaker laughed, and suddenly withdrew the blade with a flip of his wrist.

"All right, mates...I say we owe Mr. Owen Helms a visit, don't we?" he told the others.

"What about him? He's a liability," one of the men on Luke's side spoke up as if he wasn't even there.

"He's earned his life, I suppose. Still...you have a point." The leader pointed to someone Luke couldn't see. "Carson, would you be so kind?"

The force of something colliding with the back of Luke's head was the last thing he remembered.

Donatello had been irritated at first - but after another twenty minutes of no communication, annoyance turned into anxiety.

"Right, that's it!" He barely resisted the urge to slam the radio down.

"Still no answer?" Jenna asked.

"Nothing - absolutely nothing." Don glanced back at his brothers. "Something's wrong, I can feel it. We need to check on him."

"Who's we?" Leonardo asked.

"I think just Mike and I should go on foot for the moment."

"What, and leave me here like a sitting duck? No way! " Raphael protested.

"Raph, we might end up needing you to come get us."

"When did I become the taxi driver? I haven't gotten to bash one fool's head in tonight! "

"Raph, you know I'm not supposed to drive yet, and I don't feel like we should wait any longer to look for Doc."

"Why do you have to go on foot?" the red-masked turtle demanded.

"Because if those men are still out there, I don't want them to see the van unless we have no choice."

"Leo? What do you think?" Mike inserted.

"I think you should trust Donnie's gut, and do what he says," he answered wearily.

Donatello set Jenna up with his binoculars and a radio so she could keep an eye on their progress from the bedroom, leaving Raphael behind with Leonardo in the garage.

After Don and Mike disappeared, Raph instantly turned to his brother with an angry scowl. "Why did you have to agree with him?"

"Because he's right, Raph - and you know it."

"That's not the point!"

Leonardo's brow creased with confusion. "Wait. This isn't about getting to knock some heads together, is it?"

Raphael didn't answer for a few seconds. "They almost killed him, Leo. If it wasn't for Doc...he wouldn't be here! Do you really get that? It's the second time we almost lost him in three freaking months! Doesn't it bug you?"

"Of course it does," he answered calmly. "But he's not gonna live in a bubble, Raph; no more than you or I would. He isn't going to hide away to make us feel better. Do you honestly expect him too?"

Raphael grunted in frustration, though he refrained from punching the sidewall of the van. "It's gonna take me a while to get over this, Fearless. I'm not ready for him to be outta my sight yet."