a/n There is a new story on my blog tonight, called "Panama"...go, read it! enjoy

http: slash slash mercenaryranger . dot . blogspot . com [close the spaces and paste]

Shelter from the Storm

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a/n: Readers requested Ranger on a mission—or should I say Ranger begged me to get him out of Trenton for a few days? The "Shelter" aspect of his life was feeling a little smothering, possibly his legendary patience was wearing a bit thin? So, here he is...on the job...in the storm...

enjoy.

Chapter 35 ~ Raspberry Shower Gel

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Ranger

One of those days, one of those jobs. Maybe Tank is right, we're getting too old for this stuff?

I'm in...well, it doesn't matter where we are this morning, all that matters is the job.

(Yes, okay, and the money. And the—oh thank you, god, the peace and quiet. No pink t-shirts, no pugs in awful hats, no exploding cars...unless I blow them up myself. Yes, life is good, Tank is wrong...very wrong.)

My name is Carlos Manoso and—what? Oh just go with it, what the fuck does a name matter?

We have the target in our sights. Unfortunately the man, the target, is with a child, so I am backing off. I am working—not happily—with another shooter, a guy lent to me under duress—my duress, not his, this idiot was freakin' thrilled—from Spec Ops.

Now the operative tells me, ''I have a clean shot. Can I kill him? May I kill him? Just say the word, sir."

I say no.

The man huffs a little. Annoyed. "Why not?''

I don't blow up churches, I don't kill parents in front of their kids. I tell the shooter, "Our—my—credibility isn't dead yet.'' I don't feel a need to explain. Why should I?

''Mine is,'' says the shooter. With an evilly delighted grin, he again takes aim.

I suppose it's a good thing the guy has come from the military. His finger tightens on the trigger and I use my officer's voice to crack out, "Stand down, soldier. Now."

The man sighs and lowers his rifle.

He wants to punch me, but he knows that somewhere under all my nondescript black clothing there's a figurative set of US Army colonel's insignia; he is too well trained to punch out an officer.

I say, "We can do this another day, dismissed.''

The soldier packs up his frustration and silently fades away but I continue to lie on the hot rooftop watching the man and the boy.

Their dark heads are together. The boy has pulled a sheet of paper, like a handwritten letter, or his schoolwork? from his back pack. They read it solemnly, the man points to something. The child nods. The man checks his pockets, offers a gold Mont Blanc rollerball pen. No cheap freebie Bics with Plum Bail Bonds and Vinnie's phone number for this man. I can see the sleek gleam of the gold from here. The boy inscribes something, perhaps an additional word, a correction, or just an apostrophe he missed. Then the man pats the boy's shoulder. His pantomime motions say, Well done, my son.

The boy beams and carefully puts his papers away, returns the expensive gold pen. He is smiling, so proud.

I was a kid like that once, yeah, really. Remember I told Stephanie once about watching Leave it to Beaver? On TV? As if. That was so before my time, maybe before my parents' time, not that either of them ever seemed to watch much TV. But it's a classic gag, the Beav, and Eddie and the big brother, the Stepford parents. Creepy...

You don't know this about me, but—me? I was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fan—man, I loved those guys. I dreamed of becoming a ninja—hey, who knew...? Maybe it was, what do you call it, foreshadowing? Too bad my Yankee pitcher fantasies weren't the ones that came true.

I must have been, oh, maybe nine or ten. I so wanted a bottle of raspberry Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shower gel, who cared if it smelled like girly pink shampoo? It came in a green plastic bottle, shaped like one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Raspberry was Leo, blueberry was Raphael, banana was Michelangelo, and so on. I knew if I had that, oh man, I'd be so cool. My fantasy was to live in an old movie theater, instead of a firehouse like the boys—the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I mean, they lived in an old firehouse and only ate pizza. But I wanted to live in the old movie theater in town, it was built in the 1920s, had all kinds of balconies and old velvet curtains, and old flickering candle things on cracked stucco walls. I didn't care that the theater was really just old and uncared for, to me it was the place of dreams. Sort of Phantom of the Opera meets Raphael, Mikey, Leo and, hmm—Sayonara? No. Titian? No, then they'd have nicknamed him Tits. You'd think I'd remember...

Probably some assassin just like me watched me and my dad back then. After the Sunday matinee we'd go across the street to the Baskin and Robbins, sit on their little pink chairs and have an ice-cream cone, while shooing off the seagulls. I was blissfully unaware though. And no, the bad guys never got him. Exactly. Not then, anyway.

But here and now, this quiet morning: a few minutes later a woman arrived, and after a bit of conversation, she took the child's hand, and they waved goodbye to my target. I watched the mother and child walk away though the pigeon-clogged ancient city plaza, and then they were gone. The man, the father, motioned the server over, probably ordered more coffee or the check. He lit a cigarette, glanced idly around the cafe. Maybe he felt my scrutiny?

The Delta guy left too soon. Impatience hampers the procurement of positive results on a mission.

I chambered the single round. And aimed...

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epilog: Oh yeah. Donatello. Donnie. The fourth Ninja.

the end, series tbc

thank you for reviewing! Only takes a second, means so much! love sunny

a/n: If someone is not familiar with TMNTs here's the original theme song. You can also search on You Tube for scenes and theme songs.

And the green bottles of what we then called bubble bath, were, I swear, really made. The heads screwed off, lol.

Original Theme song

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Heroes in a half-shell
Turtle power!

They're the world's most fearsome fighting team (We're really hip!)
They're heroes in a half-shell and they're green (Hey - get a grip!)
When the evil Shredder attacks
These Turtle boys don't cut him no slack!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Splinter taught them to be ninja teens (He's a radical rat!)
Leonardo leads, Donatello does machines (That's a fact, Jack!)
Raphael is cool but crude (Gimme a break!)
Michelangelo is a party dude (Party!)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Heroes in a half shell
Turtle power!