Chapter 8: Return of the Turtles

Leonardo was floundering. After losing his initial grip, he had managed to catch a barely adequate hold with his other hand, but his grip on the edge of the vertical shaft hadn't been very secure to begin with and the torrent of water rushing noisily past, buffeting and disorienting him, really wasn't helping.

He tried to sneak a look around a couple of times, searching desperately for any sign of the others. Fairly sure he had passed out for a few seconds back there, around the time they evacuated the kart, which was now smashed to pieces, he had no idea what had happened to his brothers. Isn't my whole life supposed to flash in front of me..? So much for that... Then, as if things weren't bad enough, something hit him on the head!

"Leo...! Grab this...! Grab it!" Leonardo looked round, confused. Then looked up. Directly above, there was another entrance to a vertical shaft, and it looked like all three of his brothers were up there. Donatello was dangling his bo staff toward him. "Ya hear me? Grab hold!"

He let go, and grabbed for the staff. The others lifted it and him a few feet and he was then being hauled up to join them. In the process, Donatello's bo slipped from his hands, was lost in the churning water and disappeared. "Ain't we meant to like water?!" Raphael protested, shouting over the noise.

"You know," gasped Leonardo, "I'd visit again, but I wouldn't wanna live there!" They all laughed from sheer relief.

"Flushed..." said Donatello, lamenting his lost staff.

"Great! An epidemic of rats and Channel Three's number one reporter isn't anywhere to be found." Ed wasn't even particularly angry, more sort of resigned. He had long since accepted this wasn't going to be a good day. The biggest news story in weeks, and him and his people had been caught napping. He pulled a small electronic device from his pocket and looked at it, worried. "Still, it's not like April not to answer her pager. I hope she's OK."

"It's OK, Ed, I'm here, I'm here..." Out of breath and still finishing off his tie, Jim McNaughton hurried across the newsroom. His fleshy face red with exertion, he carefully arranged the wisp of hair left on top of his head in the reflective screen of one of the TV monitors.

"Here comes number... Uh, not one anyway," Ed muttered. Out loud he called "Jim! Good to see you, glad you could make it."

"Hey, you know me, Ed. Always on call. Gravitas on demand. I should have cards made up with that. Whad'ya think, huh?"

"That sounds just great, Jim. Listen, need you to sit in on a few extra bulletins. I want somebody who can think on their feet for this one, OK?"

"You bet, Ed. Always happy to oblige."

"And if you need anything, Irma will handle it. Just ask." Ed hurried toward his office, muttering "Not even two."

"Right..." Jim looked around the bustling newsroom smugly. Irma caught his attention, hurrying across the room with all the cares of the world on her narrow shoulders. He clicked his fingers. It took Irma a moment to realize that was meant to get her attention, and she pointed at herself questioningly.

"Uh, yeah... Alma. Coffee, two sugars, just a splash of milk. The tiniest splash - no more, no less. I'll be at my desk if anyone needs me."

Irma took stock of that, and recited the order. "One splash of coffee, two milks, no more sugar. Right, boss." And with that, she got on with more important things.

[BEEP]

The small device lay abandoned on the ground, and seemed to be taking it to heart. Every few seconds it beeped, sounding more insistent each time. Several pairs of green feet ran past.

[BEEP]

The Turtles were in an alley, in the shadow of the buildings on either side and with no one to see them. Raphael stopped and stood shaking himself to get rid of some of the excess water.

"Raph, we gotta get back."

"Just gimme a second, Leo."

[BEEP]

Donatello moved over to the fallen pager and picked it up, soon finding a way to shut it off. "I'm sure I've seen one of these before, just like this one."

"Mmmmfff!"

"Over here!" As Michelangelo held back to keep a lookout, Raphael led the way down the alley toward four men sitting back to back on the ground, tied up with ropes and gagged with duct-tape. Leonardo cautiously investigated a vehicle abandoned close by, doors flung open - A police car.

"Say... These guys look kinda familiar," said Raphael, and Leo moved back over to join him.

"Hey! Expert coming through. I got this." Going to the nearest, Donatello crouched over the dubious-looking man – "You won't feel a thing," he assured – and in one smooth motion removed the tape from his mouth.

"Yeeoow!"

Donatello stepped back, deflated. "Sorry. I really thought I'd got the hang of that this time."

"Hey, man, it's OK," said the man, as Leonardo cut him free. "Listen"-

-"Hey, don't I know you?" Leonardo asked, drawing back as if to get them into better focus.

"Um... not sure. Maybe. Have we met?" replied the man sheepishly as he stood. The Turtles looked at each other, and then mimed a collective Are you kidding? "OK, OK, you got me..." he admitted. "You guys stopped us when we did a place not far from here a while ago." He showed his palms. "We're bad guys, OK, true, but I'm telling you, the ones who did this? Much worse than us."

"And who might that have been?" Raphael demanded.

"Those crazy ninja guys. Used to be everywhere for a while. No sign of 'em for weeks, suddenly they're back with a vengeance. They arrive in a cop car..." He indicated the abandoned vehicle. "They beat us up, tie us up, throw the girl in the back of our van, vamoose. All done, five minutes."

"The Foot," said Leonardo, grimly. "Just like April-" The realization hit him. "Hey, what girl...?"

"Looked like they kidnapped her before they got here. Thing was, I thought she looked like that news lady from Channel Three, y'know...?"

"What?!" Raphael erupted.

"Can't be, but"-

-"Describe her," said Leo.

A shrug. "Brunette..." He held his hand about level with Leonardo's head, moved it down a little then up, settling for about level. "Uh, leather..." He paused. "Just... leather."

"Leo..." Raphael was not liking this development.

"Sweet, though, cute, not really like a proper biker chick, y'know? Kinda like if a kindergarten teacher went to a costume party as Suzi Quatro...?"

"That's what I said!" Donatello replied excitedly. "But... I'm sure he's talking about someone else."

"Yeah," said Leonardo dubiously. "I'm sure you're right, Donny."

"But... y'know, hot." The man was apparently too busy finishing the description to have heard them. "I mean, reeeally hot!" he emphasized, tailing off nervously as Leonardo and Raphael leaned in toward him with menacingly hooded eyes. "Uh, I mean pretty..." he said. "Real pretty."

"Uh... Steady there, guy," Donatello reproved cheerfully, slapping the man's back, making him jump. "But, y'know, helpful," he then conceded.

The others still looked hostile, and keen to be helpful again, the man pointed at the ground a few feet away. "Look... That was hers."

They gathered around as Leonardo picked up the object he pointed out... A black leather glove, small and fragile-looking in Leo's large three-digit hand. There was no doubt now - the Foot Clan had April.

"Where's her other glove?" Donatello wondered.

"Yeah, Don," said Raph sarcastically. "That's what's important!"

The man scratched his chin. "They threw it down before they left. I suppose, uh... They wanted somebody to find it, huh...?" He looked round as if inviting thanks.

"They must'a followed her," reasoned Raphael. "When she came to find us."

"We shouldn't've left her there," said Leonardo. He thought for a second, flustered. "Did she say anything?" he asked urgently. "Anything that might help us find her?"

"Or left us a trail? An actual trail of breadcrumbs would be nice," mused Donatello. "Or even better, pizza crumbs... Guys...?" He was ignored, except by one of the bound and gagged criminals looking curiously up at him. "Sometimes I get lonely," he confided.

"We never got much of a chance to shoot the breeze," the leader replied. "Y'know?"

Leonardo nodded grimly, and then realized they had been standing there for quite a while now. "Uh, OK, we'd better go!" He waved. "'Bye, you guys!" A chorus of tape-muffled pleasantries ensued from the tied and gagged criminals as their colleague started releasing them. "Um, be good. At least, uh, try. Otherwise, be seeing you again... And next time might not be so congenial, you get my drift?"

He gave one last wave and the Turtles broke into a run. Donatello held up the piece of silver tape, still adhering to his hand. "Hey, look…"

"What?"

"It's a running gag." He tried to discard the tape, shaking his hand and trying to brush it off, but it kept adhering. "This stuff is really sticky!"

"Tell me about it," said Raphael pointedly.

"Yeah, Don, that's kinda the point." Leo was less patient than usual, hating the thought of April being held prisoner by the Foot Clan. They had to get to her, and quickly.

Michelangelo came running towards them. "Hey, guys, there's some cop cars coming this way. We better-" He pointed, as Leo turned him round and gave him a gentle shove in the other direction. "Don't I know them?"

"Yeah, Mikey, we've been all through that. We gotta help April."

"April? What happened?"

"We'll tell you on the way."

"The way where?"

"We'll tell you on the way."

"Oona...?" said Jim McNaughton. "Did you forget something?"

Distractedly, Irma looked up, holding the phone receiver near her ear. "Um, possibly. I'm spinning quite a lot of plates right now."

"Coffee, two sugars, splash"-

-"Yeah..." Irma picked up the cup sitting on her desk and handed it to Jim. He looked at it blankly.

"This is warm."

"Yeah, it's fine. I haven't touched it, forgot it was there. Gosh, I'm busy, I didn't know this job would be so hectic." She smiled delightedly. A voice issued faintly from the receiver, and she put it to her ear. "Hi... Yeah, hi... It was about tracing that number, yeah. Sorry, I know it's an unusual request, but it's pretty important... Yeah... Uh huh, uh huh..."

Forgotten, Jim found he just didn't know how to handle this. He looked at the coffee, tasted it and walked away with a brief backward glance.

"What do you mean, impossible? I know this- OK, but I know this number has been active recently... OK. You're the expert... 'Bye." Irma put the phone down, and considered what she had learned. She looked down again at the scrawled note - Renaissance boys.

It was the key to what was going on - Somehow, she knew it. She couldn't explain how, she just did. She'd managed to find out where the number would be, if such a place existed. Which, of course, it didn't. Irma, however, knew it did - she had called and let it ring with no answer. So, she was going to go to this non-existent place and see exactly what was there.

Grabbing her dark blue duffel coat, she hurried out of the building, barely able to suppress her glee. She was investigating. Living her dream! Who knew what she would find where she was going? Maybe she would even find out where April had disappeared to...

Not that Irma was particularly worried. No doubt she was just fine.

Normally, April would be glad to get to the end of such an uncomfortable journey, but not when this was her destination. No sooner had the stolen van screeched to a halt than she was hauled out and hurried across the large junkyard, hands tied behind her.

Since she was last here, security had been seriously tightened. Masked and armed ninja patroled the area ceaselessly, and every entrance to the yard, including every manhole cover, was now blocked or guarded. The repairs to the workshop at the back, after part of the roof had been destroyed by a flying Donatello, were complete. Momentarily pulling free from the Foot ninja holding her, only to be seized again with an unshakeable grip, April tried to look back at the entrance as if hoping to see a friendly face - or even any face not covered by a bug-eyed mask. None, friendly or otherwise. She was very alone here.

Around the side of the workshop Jake and Matt hurriedly changed out of their police uniforms so they could join the ninja assembling on Master Tatsu's orders. Ready to go, Jake found Matt barring his way. "What?"

"Don't say anything. Anything at all. You understand?"

Jake laughed. "What's eatin' you?"

"Just promise. Whatever happens, say nothing. Do nothing."

"I wasn't gonna… OK. I promise. Now can we go stand with the others?" Relenting, Matt let Jake through.

Foot ninja drifted curiously over to join a growing assembly in the middle of the yard. "OK," April said apprehensively. "I've got a really busy schedule. We could do this some other time... Next year, maybe? Or maybe a minute past never...?" A loose strand of hair tickled her brow, and she irritably tried to smooth it back, not quite successfully, with her shoulder. She really hated having her hands tied! "Guys?!"

She tailed off as the menacing figure of Tatsu emerged from the surrounding ninja. Whatever purpose was being served by kidnapping her and bringing her here, it looked like she was about to find out - and a rain check was not an option.

Next: Irma encounters a maneater, Tatsu has a captive audience and the Turtles meet Benny the Ball...