Chapter Eleven: Dinner With The Executioner

Days Ago…

The moon shone brightly over the island of Manhattan, bringing with it a chill befitting a horror novel. The docks reeked of fish, saltwater, seagull droppings, and gasoline. One would think that would make it the least suitable place for a feat of fine dining. Nevertheless, the abandoned warehouse was dressed for success; lights, flowers, candles, the whole shebang. A giant rectangular table stood at the center of said warehouse, decorated at both ends with fine silverware, glasses of every nature, and multiple plates.

At one end of the table stood an armored Oroku Saki.

Hidden in the shadows behind him were Xever, Bradford, and Tigerclaw. All three looked like they would much rather be anywhere but where they were at the moment. But first things first.

"Do any of you remember the way he looked at us when her first saw us?" Bradford asked quietly.

"How can I not?" Xever returned. "It still give me the chills. Like he was a starved man and we were a loaf of bread."

Bradford shuddered. "I didn't think anyone could creep me out like he did. And I've been stalked by adolescent fanboys."

"Silence," Shredder commanded.

A column of light shone through the giant doors and the guest of honor, Doctor William Bishop, stepped in. Swathing his tall and lean form was a black business suit. On top of it, he wore a black trench coat that stretched down to his ankles. He flaunted a small grin, his white teeth a broad contrast to his dark skin. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses framed his black lifeless eyes.

The armored man nodded. "Dr. Bishop," he said gruffly.

Bishop repeated the gesture. "I see you've dressed for dinner, Mr. Oroku." He seated himself. "Thank you for inviting me. Please sit."

The Shredder did so at his own pace. "My sources have told me that you have a valuable source of power to offer."

"This is true," said Bishop.

"And it will enable me to control the entirety of New York."

"This is also true." He crossed his long legs under the table. "And my sources tell me that you have access to a certain…chemical that may aid me in my endeavors. You should know that in order for our plan to succeed, should we agree to it, you must deliver first, Mr. Oroku."

The Shredder narrowed his eyes. He never liked being told what he already knew. "First, you must tell me the nature of this power source...This...technology of yours."

It was Bishop's turn to narrow his eyes. He leaned back in his seat. "Certainly," he said. He then proceeded to explain the weapons, the tools, the troops he intended to provide him with. The whole thing seemed overwhelming and one would find the idea just a little too ambitious. Not to mention ever so slightly inhumane. But Bishop felt different; he had nearly twenty years to perfect this plan. All he needed now was a man with the same passion and drive as him to help carry it out. He needed a partner.

When Bishop had finished elaborating, the Shredded nodded his understanding. "I see."

"And all I ask from you is this…mutagen you mentioned in your message. It may take me some time to actually convert it into something even close to usable, but it's a start." He took a sip from his wine, cringing at the cheap taste. These Asians really don't know tack about wine, he thought.

"Very well," Shredder agreed. "I will have my resident scientist Baxter Stockman work on this straight away."

"You there, with the fish head!" Bishop suddenly said, surprising even the Shredder. He was referring to Fishface. "You really mustn't stare. It isn't polite."

"Who said I was staring?" Xever defended. "And how would you even notice?" He felt like a child being admonished for a slip of the tongue.

Bishop shook his head. "Remised manners are very easy for me to spot," he pointed out. "After all, we Brits take pride in our manners."

Xever flashed his teeth. In a daring move that shocked his fellow henchmen, Xever broke rank and strode over to where Bishop was sitting. "Well, we are not in Britain, you slimy Limey son of a-GAH!"

He never saw Bishop rushing for him. In the blink of an eye, Xever was pinned to the edge of the table, Bishop hovering over him with one strong hand clamped to his scaly throat. From the folds of his coat, Bishop produced a small hand-held buzzsaw. He clicked a button with his thumb and the saw hummed to life, its blade glinting thirstily for blood.

"You were once human, yes?" Bishop asked, edging the saw closer to Xever's face. "Your blood's not the purest source I could get, but I suppose with a little extra effort…"

Xever just about thought he would wet himself.

"Enough," said the Shredder exasperatedly. An idea had made its way into his head.

The buzzsaw fell silent, a hair's breadth away from Xever's cranium. Bishop turned to the armored man, tucking the machine back into his coat. "Problem?"

"If it is mutagenic blood you seek," Shredder continued. "I know of a specific and purer source you could make use of."

"Speak." He went back to his seat as Xever retook his place behind the Shredder.

"Would it matter if the source were reptilian in nature?" Shredder asked.

The smile returned to Bishop's face. "No. In fact, reptile blood would be much easier to work with."

"Then that is fortuitous indeed," said the Shredder. He was about to explain in detail when a figure appeared in the doorway behind Bishop. Ever on the alert, Shredder's henchmen readied themselves; Bradford held out his claws and snarled, Tigerclaw raised his laser canons, and Xever unfolded his butterfly knife.

Bishop looked behind him to see the source of the disturbance. "It is alright," he told them. "He's with me."

Shredder raised a hand and his henchmen fell back into place. They observed as the stranger moved to stand beside Bishop.

He was tall. Very tall. His giant body was swathed in black leather with shoes to match. The high collar of his trench coat obscured his mouth, baring only the upper half of his face. His outrageous eyebrows converged in the middle of his face, meeting the bridge of his angled sunglasses. On the crown of his head was a single strip of black hair, resembling a Mohawk. Splitting his face diagonally in half was an ugly pink scar. He radiated danger.

Bishop gestured to the newcomer. "I would be amiss not to introduce my good friend. This is Agent Sonny Wong." The giant of a man didn't move. "So sorry, he's not one for words. We met while I was working for the British Library…Well, I didn't meet him so much as…acquire him. But that's not important. You were saying about these mutagenic reptiles?"

"All you need to know is that they are the answer to your prayers," Shredder explained. "With them, you can revive this leader of yours...this Mr. Gentleman…and in exchange for their blood, I will have access to your technology."

"I will not leave my lab again," Bishop stated. "So how will I obtain them?"

Shredder gestured to Tigerclaw. "You may leave that to my comrade here."

"I do not work for free," Tigerclaw inserted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bishop threw him a condescending smile. "Nor did I expect you to." He snapped his fingers and Sonny Wong stepped forward. The giant of a man reached into his coat and produced a small brown briefcase. He held it out to the tiger.

Tigerclaw tentatively walked over to stand before Wong. Now that they stood face to face they could gauge their heights; Wong, although leaner, stood a head and shoulders taller than Tigerclaw and the mutant did not look too pleased with that. Finally, Wong flipped open the briefcase, showing the tiger the contents: stacks upon stacks of American dollar bills.

Before the tiger could take a closer look, Wong slammed the case shut, earning himself a frustrated growl from the mutant. Wong seemed to recognize this as a threat. Using his free hand, Wong reached into a pocket in his coat. Tigerclaw reached for his laser canon.

"Uh uh uh!" Bishop chided. "Wong."

As if automatically, Wong straightened up. With the suitcase dangling limply in one hand, the giant man went back to his place next to Bishop.

"Enough, Tigerclaw." Shredder glared at his furred henchman. The tiger took the hint and returned to his place behind his master. "It is done, then," Shredder concluded. "You may use them as you see fit. Their blood is yours…but their lives are mine to take once you are done."

"You speak very passionately about them," Bishop stated. "One would think you hate them."

The Shredder remained silent.

For a long moment, Bishop stayed impassive. Ever so slowly, a wicked-looking smile crept onto his face. "Done deal," he finally said. He took his napkin, whipped it open, and laid it across his lap. Then he folded his hands and placed them on the table. "So, what's the first course?"

Author's Note:

And a new player has joined the game:

Agent Sonny Wong, codenamed The Recycler- a canon character from the 26-episode Read Or Die TV series. He is a secret agent of immense power and skill. And a ruthless, ruthless killer. He is very mysterious and never speaks but when he does, his voice is the last thing you will hear. He is also the most powerful field agent of the British Library's greatest enemy and rival for world domination, Dokusensha, the Eastern equivalent of the British Library.

He is also a superhuman agent, but I won't reveal his powers just yet. Don't go spoiling the fun by Googling it.

*"So, what's the first course?" - when I wrote this stylish little one-liner, I had the Vesper Lynd meeting scene from Casino Royale in mind. Except she was looking at a menu and said "What looks good?". Plus, when I'm writing villains, I like giving them an eccentric side.

Thanks for reading and feel free to review.