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Chapter 14
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A sign on the wall listed the names of the staff. Psychology, psychiatry, therapy; Leo gave it only a passing glance, but it revealed where they were. So this wing of the hospital is the mental ward. That would explain why all of the rooms looked like prison cells.
They made their way slowly along, Leo peering carefully into each room as Raphael kept lookout. Each door had a tiny rectangular window at the top, crisscrossed with wire. Methodically they moved, checking each and every room for any sign of their missing brothers.
Reaching the end, the hallway bore right. At the corner, Leo put his back against the wall. Pulling out one katana, he held it up, turning it slightly back and forth. The reflection in the blade told him everything he needed to know. He showed Raphael six fingers, paused, and made a small sweeping motion with his hand in that direction. Six of them, down the hall. He then threw out five fingers, followed by a closed fist. Fifty yards. He unsheathed his other katana quietly and gave Raphael a nod. There was no way to move in unseen, they had no choice but to rush them. Raphael understood. Following suit, he took a sai in each hand and readied himself for battle.
Of course such a small group of Foot soldiers were no match for their skills, but Leonardo was counting on being able to dispatch them all without making too much noise. He and Raphael moved with such speed that they were able to close the gap between themselves and the foot before their enemies were even aware.
Seconds later all six Foot soldiers lay on the floor. Leonardo swept back over them, finishing off the wounded before their death throes could alert anyone. As he put his katana through the heart of the last writhing enemy, he looked up at Raphael.
Leo spoke barely above a whisper. "Can't hide the fact that we're here now," he continued, "we'd better move quickly."
"Right behind ya." Raph followed Leo through a set of double doors, hurrying into a small lobby. This room branched off into several different hallways. They paused there for a second, contemplating which direction to go in.
Movement. They turned simultaneously in that direction, just in time to hear the Foot soldier whistle. His guts decorated the floor a second later, but the damage had already been done. More enemies moved in, and Leo could hear them signaling each other, like a virus sweeping through their ranks.
"This is it, brother. We stand here. Raphael, we must not fail." Never had their leader sounded more resolute, more determined than he did now.
"Leonardo." Raphael never used his full name. He looked hard at his brother. So much was said in that moment, without words. As if they'd never really seen each other until now. "Failure was neva' an option."
The ensuing battle was truly epic. Despite running themselves ragged during the previous weeks, despite the sleepless nights and constant worry, both brothers were at peak performance. The Foot were falling in bloody heaps. Wave after wave kept coming, but it was fruitless. With an almost supernatural efficiency, Leonardo and Raphael annihilated their forces with the precision of expertly skilled warriors.
Before long, the floor was slippery with a river of blood. Raphael inched his way around, orbiting Leo until he was on a cleaner patch of floor. He was careful to keep Leo close; so far they'd been able to hold off each attack without too much trouble, but that could change at any second. Ain't that tha' truth, he thought, images of that cursed night flashing in his head.
An unlucky Foot soldier came between them. As Raphael drove a sai through his eye socket, two blades erupted from his chest, nearly impaling Raph in the process. Weapons retracted, and the foot was a ragdoll, sinking into the floor.
Looking slightly surprised, Raphael locked eyes with his brother. "What's our next move, fearless?" The assault on them was starting to die down, and they were going to have to make tracks soon.
Leonardo had made a decision on which direction to go in, but never got the chance to say it aloud. He opened his mouth to speak, but something happened before sound emerged from it.
A scream, terrible and fantastic, reverberated into the room. If the two brothers had had any hair, it would've been standing on end.
Raphael looked at his older brother, and choked out one word. "Mikey!"
Mike was alive. Oh thank you, Mike was still alive. Under ordinary circumstances, Raphael would've been driven mad by that pained scream. He would've been all but blinded by rage, hearing his brother in such agony. But all he could feel now was relief. Mikey's alive.
He didn't even pause for a second. In retrospect, it was a move that would've gotten him a harsh lecture later on, under any normal circumstances. In this instance it could be forgiven, especially because Leo himself was guilty of the same impulse. The remaining few Foot soldiers were forgotten entirely.
Raphael bolted towards the sound of Michelangelo's voice, Leo hot on his heels.
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