Hello, FanFiction. Some of you may be wondering why this story is being updated after five years of negligence. The short answer is this: I'm a terrible person, but maybe not an irredeemably terrible person. This story has haunted me. I don't know about you, but I can't stand when an author abandons a fic. It kills me. I couldn't let myself be like that. In that spirit, I've finished TMNTwo. I didn't rush it, and hopefully it feels like a true ending. For anyone who started this so long ago and sees this, I'm sorry for the wait. My humblest apologies. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy a completed story. Best wishes.

Disclaimer: You might think that I've spent the last five years negotiating for the rights to TMNT. Alas, I have not.

I blinked, rubbing salt water out of my eyes. It cleared my vision, but only brought the unease into sharper focus. What is he doing here? I ducked further into my bush, feeling the twigs bite into my calves as I crouched. The dense leaves provided fine cover, but didn't leave much room to watch the scene before me. Instead, I strained my hearing, hoping to catch the words.

"No, I didn't manage to get anything from them yet. We'll run the tests soon enough, but finding a match is such a tricky thing. We'll be lucky if either one of them is. They are under heavy guard, I assume?"

"Of course, Dr. Morris, sir, I have guards posted around the entire perimeter of the shack, two outside their door, and another three in the living area. Should they find a way out of the room, they will be apprehended immediately."

"Good, good. If only we hadn't let them slip through our fingers in New York, we wouldn't have need for this now…"

The voices cut off as I heard the open and shut of the front door. I chanced peering around the bush, examining the house in front of me. It was less of a house and more of a mansion I came to realize. There was a main body, with a round, pillared porch, framing a large set of French doors. There were two wings extending from the main body, each wing composed of two floors, and six wide windows per wing. The house backed into dense foliage, but had a clear front yard, with a winding brick driveway.

I slid deeper into the gloom surrounding the house, mulling over what I'd just seen and heard. That had definitely been Dr. Morris, the same mysterious man we'd met in New York. He had been accompanied by a woman in camouflage fatigues. Her stride had been purposeful and even, obviously former military. By the sound of it, they were guarding prisoners. Could it possibly be…?

I rifled through my duffle, extracting my katanas and strapping them to my back. There was only one way to find out.

I woke up cramped and with a hollow feeling in my stomach. That, touched with the nausea, was almost enough to have me reeling. I pressed my hands to my stomach, hoping the pressure would take some of the edge off; it didn't, but hoping it might made me feel a little better. I rolled to a standing position and pushed my makeshift bed apart, returning the chairs to their original positions. I stretched, reaching up to my tiptoes before bending in half at the waist to touch my toes. It woke me up enough to get the little hamster on his wheel running. With my brain functioning, I finally realized what had woken me: the boat had stopped moving.

I started toward the ladder, but lurched to the side when the boat suddenly started moving again. I felt it increase in speed, faster than we'd been going before. The engine was singing, and I could almost feel us skimming over the water. I wondered why we had stopped only to start up again so rapidly. I once again took a step toward the ladder, but arrived at the foot just as the hatch opened.

I backed off and stood by the table as Martinez descended. She turned around to face me and smiled when she saw me up and awake. "I was just coming to wake you."

"The boat woke me up. What's with the stopping and starting?

Martinez's smile disappeared. "We arrived at the airstrip. Unfortunately, it's under surveillance. I sent an advance party to secure a plane, but only one man returned."

I leaned forward anxiously, "Is it the same people that took my brothers?"

Martinez glanced down, biting her lip, but met my concerned gaze when she answered, "Indeterminate, Michelangelo. I'm sorry. There's simply no way to tell. As of yet, we don't know anything about the men that abducted your brothers."

I sighed, knowing that if I'd thought that question through before asking, I would have come to the same answer myself. That was me, though, always opening my mouth before my brain had a chance to catch up. "Yeah, of course," I answered weakly. I glanced down at my watch, figuring up how long ago the assault had happened. It had been close to nightfall, around nine, and it was now seven am, so ten hours. My brothers had been MIA for ten hours.

Master Splinter must be going crazy, I thought. At least he knows where I am. I rested my hands on the edges of the table, clenching and unclenching my fingers. "So if we can't use the airstrip, how're we getting to New York?"

"Well, it certainly limits our options, but I believe our best course of action would be to continue up the coast to the next available airstrip. It will add several hours to our schedule, but it appears to be an unavoidable detour."

I nodded, "All right. How long 'til we get to New York, then?"

Martinez shrugged, "I'd say six hours." She started back up the ladder. I moved to follow her, but she held up a hand. "I'd prefer it if you stayed down here. There isn't much room on deck."

This time it was my turn to shrug. "Ok. I don't want to be in the way."

She nodded, ascended the ladder, and closed the hatch. I sat back down at the table, put my head in my hands, and tried not to worry.

"Jeez, Raph, could you possibly take any longer?"

"You wanna try, smart guy?" I grumbled over my shoulder. "You try jimmying a lock with a piece of plastic handcuffs and a mattress tag."

Donny laughed, and I heard him settle himself on the bed.

"Did you see what was on that mattress?" I asked, caustically.

"Did you see what was on the floor?" he returned, completely unperturbed.

I sighed. He had a point there. I tried not to think about it as I squatted in front of the door knob. I almost had it. If I could just wiggle it a little more… I heard a soft click and grinned. "Bingo, Donny. Let's blow this joint." I pushed open the door and got a rifle butt to the forehead for my trouble. I fell back, hands clapped to my head. I felt more than saw Don leap over me and out the door.

Sounds of a scuffle ensued. I staggered to my feet and leaned cautiously out the door. Don stood over two goons with rifles, both unconscious, but another three were approaching from the other end of the hallway. "Behind you, Donny!" I called.

He whirled around, executing a spin kick and knocking the first guy into a wall. That gave the second guy enough of an opportunity to tackle him, though, and take them both to the floor.

I waded in, wrenching the guy off Donny, and settled for a simple punch to the face instead of anything fancy. He staggered back into the third guy, and I finished them off with a kick to the second guy's torso which knocked them both over. As they went down, I pulled Donny up, and we unceremoniously ran them over, heading for the front door.

"You're bleeding," Don announced softly from behind me.

I grunted in reply. That rifle butt had opened up a cut just above my hairline, but it didn't feel serious, so it wasn't exactly on my list of priorities right now. I stopped short as the front door banged open and more mooks with guns ran in.

Don and I dove in opposite direction, much unlike our earlier escape attempt, and took cover. I landed in an ungainly flop behind the couch and heard the unmistakable click of a rifle being cocked.

"Come on out boys," one of the mooks called, "We don't want to hurt you, but we can shoot to immobilize just as easily as we can shoot to kill."

"I don't think anyone will be taking any shots at my brothers," a new voice coldly declared.

I wilted in relief, finally we caught a break. There was a series of thumps and one gunshot, but it was over quickly. I climbed over the back of the couch and sat down happily.

Leo stood just outside the shack, with his back to the doorway. His katanas were drawn, but he held them down, loosely, at his sides. He seemed to be surveying the guards lying at his feet. There were maybe five or six, all in different states of unconsciousness. He re-sheathed his swords in one smooth glide and turned around to face us.

I picked myself up and righted the table that I'd been using as a shield. I grinned, returning Leo's easy smile. "You boys ok?" he asked.

I nodded, aside from a new set of bruises, I was just peachy.

Raph nodded too, but also scrubbed a hand at the blood drying on his cheek. Leo reached a hand out, but Raph just shook his head. "It's nothing. Just a scratch."

Leo let his hand fall to his side and nodded. "All right. We need to get out of here. There are a lot more guards at the main house. I'm sure they heard that gunshot. We need to be gone before they can get over here."

"Where did you come from, Leo?" I asked. Leo slipped out the front door with Raph at his back. "How did you even get here?" I followed behind my brothers, surveying the surrounding area. To our left, a path stretched away into the trees, and to our right wound the path that Raph and I had been led along.

Leo shook his head, leading the way around the shack. "I'll tell you later. Let's just say I spent a very unpleasant night in the ocean. Is there a back way out of here? We can't go back the way I came."

"Yeah," I pointed to the path Raph and I had been led down. "That leads to the beach, but it isn't very straightforward. We might be better off just heading in a straight line through the undergrowth."

Leo paused for a second to consider it. He took a step forward only to clutch wildly at his neck a moment later. Raph and I both lunged for him, which, really, was an incredibly stupid idea because it drew us from the relative shelter of the shack wall. As Raph and I reached him, Leo pulled his hands away from his neck, revealing a tiny feathered dart. He looked at it, puzzlement creasing his brow, before he pitched forward. Raph and I each caught an arm, but it was the last thing we did. I had one second to realize that the three of us were standing in the wide open clearing around the shack, before I felt the pinch of a dart entering my upper arm.