Warning, there's some brutality in this chapter. The Shredder, after all, is not known for his gentle-kindness to his prisoners. : (
Things will get better soon, I promise. Only two chapters to go, so the guys have to get busy and save her already!
And... Sorry Mikey, for the bite, and Raph for the tears. We all know how Raph loves (not) public displays of emotion! Excluding of course, his own emotion of rage. lol
What can I say, Jeremy got away from me a bit- he was supposed to be a minor character who hardly showed up! He had other ideas.
Happy reading!
Chapter 15 -Jeremy -
"The little snot bit me," Michelangelo growled, rubbing his hand. Donatello held Jeremy's arms. Jeremy kicked and squirmed, but he was no longer shouting, thanks to one of Michelangelo's elbow pads, which was stuffed into his mouth and tied neatly behind his head. His hands were bound behind his back with a leather thong from Donatello's belt to keep him from pummeling every inch of turtle he could reach with his sharp, boney little fists.
"Listen, Kid," said Donatello, turning Jeremy so he could see his face. Jeremy scowled at him, glaring, and tried to kick his shins. Donatello swept Jeremy's legs out from under him with his foot, unceremoniously dropping the boy to the ground. Jeremy sat down, hard, and stared up in shock at the angry ninja turtle towering over him.
"Don't make me hurt you," snapped Donatello, losing patience. Jeremy's eyes widened, and he shrank back, drawing his knees up. "Ok, that's better," said Donatello, squatting to talk to the boy. Jeremy, misunderstanding his intention, scrambled backward.
"Relax, Kid. We don't want to hurt you."
"Speak for yourself," grumbled Michelangelo. Jeremy's eyes flicked toward the orange-masked turtle, then back to Donatello.
"I'm gonna take that thing off your mouth, but you've got to promise not to yell again, ok?" Donatello tried a smile. Slowly, the boy nodded. Donatello reached behind his head and loosened the knot. The boy turned his head, and spat.
"That was truly rank," he grumbled.
"Bet it tasted better than my fingers," retorted Michelangelo.
"We're sorry, Kid, but you bit my brother. What's your name?" The boy looked at him, but didn't answer. Donatello sighed. "My name's Donatello," he said. "This is Michelangelo. Ok? It's ok, Kid, you can tell us your name. It's not like we're going to turn you over to Child Protective, you know? I mean, being five-foot turtles and all, we're kind of shy of the authorities, too. We just want to know what you're doing here in the sewers."
"Yeah, it's gettin' to be a regular parade with people hangin' out down here," said Michelangelo. "First Sylvia, now this kid."
"What? You know Sylvia? But that guy took her," babbled Jeremy. "An' I couldn't stop him. He just disappeared, like some kinda ghost or somethin'." The boy sniffed.
"Wait a minute? You know Sylvia? Are you Jeremy?" Donatello leaned closer. "What do you mean, someone took her? What happened?" Jeremy shrank back, shivering, his eyes wide.
"He… he just stole her," he stammered. A guy, in black pajamas. Even his mask was black. And there was a red mark on his chest. He hit her on the head, and knocked her out. I saw him. He picked her up, but the next time I looked, they were just… gone."
"The Foot," said Donatello. His expression was suddenly so dangerous, Jeremy scrambled back, away from him.
"Jeremy, you've gotta tell us everything you saw," said Michelangelo. He bent down, and pushed Jeremy forward, reaching to loosen the thong binding his hands. "Sylvia's in trouble, Dude. The Foot are ninjas. They work for the Shredder, an' he's real bad news."
Jeremy's gaze flicked from one to the other. He swallowed hard, rubbing his wrists. "Can you guys get Sylvia back?" he asked.
"We're sure going to try," Donatello replied grimly.
***
"We'll need to run some tests, Master Shredder, to get an idea of the full range of her capabilities…" The man in the white coat was sweating. Sylvia listened, trying desperately to keep her face impassive, but it was hard to be stoic strapped to an examining table like a frog waiting to be dissected.
Half a dozen sensors were attached to her face and head. Leather straps pinned her wrists, ankles, knees and waist to the table. She could turn her head to look at the various monitors beeping and blinking a few feet away. She kept her head turned toward the screens, to avoid looking at the tray of sinister-looking instruments and hypodermics containing several different colored liquids to her left. She was trying desperately not to think about what the man in the white coat might do with the scalpels and other sharp objects on that tray.
"Samples should be taken, of course, and we'll run a full DNA profile…" the man was saying.
"First, I want to test her capabilities," snapped the Shredder. "Test her psi ratings. I'll send you my most psi-sensitive ninjas. They'll be able to sense strong emotion from her. Pain. Fear. Use whatever means you deem necessary, but I do not want her mind damaged, is that clear? Do what you like to her body, but I am holding you," he held a gauntleted fist under the man's chin, the blades a scant millimeter from his pulsing artery, "personally responsible, Doctor, for her ability being undamaged and useful to me when the testing is complete. I suspect that she has knowledge of our enemies, the Turtles. We will need to… extract… that information."
The scientist swallowed hard. "Yes, Master. It shouldn't be necessary to damage her too much. The samples can be taken from non-essential organs, the DNA harvested from muscle or bone rather than from the brain…"
"As long as we understand one another," said the Shredder, removing his blades from the man's neck. The scientist swallowed hard several times. Sylvia could see the sweat shining on his forehead from across the room. "Yes, Shredder, of course, Master…" the man stuttered. The Shredder turned, and swept out of the room.
It was Sylvia's turn to sweat and tremble as the man approached the table. "Shall we begin, my dear?" he asked, with a rather shaky smile.
***
"The Foot has Sylvia?" Raphael drew his sais with a growl. "Come on, let's go."
"Whoa, Raphael. First, we don't know where she's being held. Second, how do we know we can trust this kid?" Leonardo glanced at Jeremy, who was standing, unbound, and un-gagged, at Donatello's side. Jeremy scowled.
"I told ya, that Foot guy took Syl! How do I know I can trust you guys," he snapped. "You're a buncha ninjas, too. How do I know you're not workin' wit' dat other guy?"
Raphael growled low in his throat. "Us, workin' wit' dos filthy Foot? You got to get yer head checked, Kid."
Jeremy quailed under Raphael's glare. "Well, dis guy said you could get Sylvia back," he said, staring Raphael straight in the eye. He trembled slightly, but didn't back down.
"Hey, we're on the same side here," said Donatello. "Jeremy described a Foot soldier down to the mark. I think he's telling the truth."
"What if it's a trap? I knew we shouldn'ta let that girl go," grumbled Raphael. Jeremy's eyes widened. He took a step back from the turtles.
"You were keepin' Sylvia prisoner?"
"Nah, Kid, she busted into our Lair. She was stealin' tools and stuff. We caught her, but our 'Fearless Leader' here let her go," said Raphael.
"It was the right thing to do, Raphael. We couldn't keep her prisoner. And she gave us her word she'd keep our secret," said Leonardo.
"Yeah, and look were it got us," snapped Raphael. "Now Shredder's got 'er. He's probably torturing her right now, tryin' to get her to tell him where da Lair is!"
"He's hurtin' Syl?" Jeremy's fists came up. "I'm gonna kill 'em."
"You wouldn't stand much of a chance against the Shredder, Jeremy," said Leonardo kindly. "He's beaten all four of us in a fight before. It was only because our Sensei, Splinter, intervened, that we survived that battle."
"Well, if you four can't beat this guy, how're we gonna get Sylvia back?" Jeremy's hazel eyes filled with tears.
"Don't worry, Kid, we'll get 'er out." Raphael knelt down. "I promise ya." Jeremy looked suspiciously at the turtle. Raphael met his eyes steadily. Suddenly Jeremy shocked them all by throwing himself at Raphael and wrapping his arms around his neck.
"Ya gotta get her back. Ya just gotta. Ya can't let some jerk hurt Sylvia. She's all I got!" The boy sobbed into Raphael's shoulder. Raph looked helplessly at the others.
Leonardo patted Jeremy on the back. "Don't worry, Jeremy, we'll get her back," he said.
"Yeah," said Michelangelo. "Sylvia's our bud, too, Jeremy. We'll get her away from ol' Shred-Head."
"Will somebody puh-leeze get this kid offa me?" grumbled Raphael. Donatello hid a smile.
***
Sylvia's silent scream tore at her throat. The chemical the scientist injected into her arm was coursing through her veins, burning, and making the room fog and tilt. The scientist watched her impassively, making notes on his clipboard. Three black-clad ninjas stood, unmoving, near the table.
"She is in pain," said one, tonelessly. The scientist nodded, scribbling on his clipboard.
"Sometimes the serum has that effect," he muttered. "What else? Are you getting any images of the turtles?"
"No."
"You could make this easier on yourself, you know," he said, walking over and looking down into Sylvia's eyes. She blinked, tears leaking down the sides of her face and pooling in her ears. "You could project the images the Master wants, images of the Turtles. All you have to do is think about them…" Sylvia closed her eyes, closed her mind against his voice. She would fight as long and hard as she could, to deny this man what he wanted.
***