Raph/Nightwatcher and Mikey/Turtle Titan or any other turtles not mine. Purple Dragons= not mine

Initiates= mine. K= Mine.

Chapter Twenty-three; Meet the Boss

Given any other situation Raph would have tried something in the elevator when the walls kept everyone close and using long range weapons like guns was stupidity. Or if they'd used the stairwell he could have made a grab for K and pulled her over the stair rail and out of the line of fire. But the creep holding her kept the barrel of his pistol jammed so securely under K's jaw that an angry bruise could be seen trying to match the one over her eye.

Through it all K managed to look disinterested. As though the situation didn't concern her and she was just humoring some imbecile. Privately, Raph had to admit he was curious as to how she managed to look so unconcerned despite the battered condition of her face. Less privately, he was pissed that these punks had the nerve to do that to her and the minute he got a chance...

The elevator dinged and the second gunman tapped his rifle against the back of Nightwatcher's costume, indicating he move forward and probably wondering as much as Raph was what damage a bullet might be able to do to that thing on the back of his costume. After Raph and his guard left the elevator Nightwatcher heard a noise and a whimper. He turned to see that K had stumbled and the man behind her was pulling her back to her feet. A drop of blood showed on the barrel of the gun and around the bruises K had gone pale, but her face either remained impassive or she had regained composure before Nightwatcher had turned. Raph wondered if her control was more to protect herself or even to help him keep his temper.

The man behind Raph thumped his barrel against Nightwatcher's back again and Nightwatcher hesitantly obeyed. Under the costume Raph shook as adrenaline and rage ran through him thicker than his own blood. If the gun went off, so would his slim control.

The tenth floor of the hotel was the penthouse. Only one suite and it took up the entire floor, no hallway. The carpet was plush enough that it even softened the sound of Nightwatcher's boots and there was enough fancy furniture for a large meeting... which appeared to be in the middle of its proceedings. At least a dozen people sat or stood around dressed in either foreign looking business suits, distinctly American-sleaze business suits, or in the typical leathers of the Purple Dragon. Some of these people -including the only woman- carried folders or briefcases, most of them carried some kind of weapon either in plain sight or under their clothing. Everyone was staring at the group coming out of the elevator.

"Who?" One of the men in suits asked. A thick accent colored this lone word.

"I'm sorry for the interruption." Another one of the suits answered, an American. "They weren't supposed to be brought up here." He hurried over to where Nightwatcher and K were being held. He slapped the guy holding Raph at rifle point upside the head. When he spoke again he hissed too quietly for the rest of the assembled to hear, "What did you think you were doing? I told you to keep an eye on them downstairs!"

The rifle guy cringed and muttered something back about misunderstandings or good ideas or something. While the two of them hissed at each other the lone woman walked over to where K was being held. She looked very closely at K, clearly making her guard jumpy when she traced the bruising along K's eye with a highly manicured finger. As if coming to a decision she turned to the assembled and spoke rapidly in a language that kind of reminded Raph of the time his entire family -April and Case included- caught bad chest colds. One of the cleaner business suit guys barked, "Let the girl go."

The man holding K glanced to the guy hissing at them. He looked questioningly to the man who had spoken. "The costumed man crazy to try anything. My wife wants her unhanded." The hissing man nodded to K's guard. He lowered his pistol and stepped back. Despite her composure, K coughed when the pressure was released from her throat. The wife put a hand on K's elbow and led her through the suite into a side room, tittering the entire way in disgust, as if K could understand every word. Nightwatcher wanted to follow, keep an eye on K, but now both of the men had their attention -and their guns- focused on Nightwatcher.

Several of the other men in the room also focused on Nightwatcher. Clearly all of them were thinking the same thing as Raph and one of them voiced it clearly; "Now what?"

The woman kept chattering as she led K from the main room into a bedroom. The bedroom was every bit as plush as the main area, with the same carpeting, large windows with the shades drawn and guards standing at the ready. Next to a door leading to a bathroom was a privacy fan set up with lavish clothing draped over the top and centered in the room was a gigantic bed with a down comforter that was so thick the little boy playing cars in the middle sunk into it.

"Peter?" K guessed. His skin and hair were the same color as the woman beside him, but his hair looked to be home-cut and his features were more Hispanic than Near Orient.

"He can't speak yet." The woman explained. K flinched, she hadn't suspected the woman could speak English, much less speak it better than her husband. "His understanding of American Sign Language is poor." The woman nodded to a man standing beside the door and he took his place guarding it. The woman continued to speak as she headed toward the bathroom. "We tried both English and Spanish speakers but he can't read lips either. At his age he can barely scribble is his name."

When the woman disappeared into the bathroom K caught a glimpse of how lavish that was, but it didn't hold her attention. Instead she saw the boy -who had been quietly playing or eating from a plate of hotdogs- suddenly look up. He frowned at K. K forced a smile and waved. The boy used both of his index fingers and pushed the sides of his mouth upwards, making K smile for real. The boy glanced at the bathroom and quickly turned his attention back to his toy cars, pausing in his seemingly enthusiastic play only to grab a chip from his plate. At that moment the woman emerged from the bathroom with a box and a damp cloth.

How about that? K wondered.

"It is a pity how rough the men here are with girls." The woman continued. She set her box on a table and opened it, touching the cloth to a mixture stored within. With a friendly smile she gestured for K to join her. "I hope it is not too late for the younger ones to realize that women are like flowers, and should be treated well." When K was close enough the woman gently lifted her chin, K tried not to shudder at the feel of the woman's long nail. The woman then dabbed at the sore area where K had been held at gunpoint. K clenched her teeth and resisted the temptation to hiss. "It stings, yes. But this will clean your wound and after a few minutes the pain will ease as well." The woman said. "You may call me Hatisha. May I have your acquaintance?"

Resisting the urge to say 'no', K replied simply. "K."

Hatisha smiled. She moved the cloth from K's throat to touch it gently to the bruising on her face. K wasn't sure what that would do, if anything. "Kay, that's nice. Any special meaning to it?" She asked.

"It's a letter." K replied.

"Interesting."

If anyone asked her how she decided K would never have been able to answer. But there and then she decided that she hated this woman.

Don't worry, I'm not turning K into the hero of the story, just using her for a little perspective... and to piss Raph off.