Chapter 19: Broken News

"Bodacious!" said Michelangelo.

"Audacious!" said Raphael.

"Tenacious!" said Leonardo.

There was a long moment of hesitation. "Good!" said Whiskers. The three Turtles looked at him. "Good... acious…?"

"Needs work," said Leonardo.

"Yeah, he definitely does, but give the guy a chance, Leo. He's new to all this."

"That's not what I meant, Raph."

The four of them had arrived in the hotel's lobby and were approaching the exit as Irma and Todd hurried toward them. "Irma!" the Turtles exclaimed. Then "Todd...?!" Surprise after surprise.

"Uh, guys, I..." Irma didn't know how to tell them.

"Well, given that we haven't been spending the last couple 'a hours fighting an army of giant rats"- Leonardo began.

-"Just this guy"- cut in Raphael, pointing toward Whiskers.

-"It looks like things worked out OK." Leonardo finished, as Irma and Todd stared at the Turtles' new friend. "Guys, this is Whiskers. It's a long story. We didn't exactly hit it off right away, but it turned out we got a mutual friend..." He looked round. "Speaking of... Where's April?"

Irma just stared at him.

At the edge of the square, Miss McWilliams pressed herself against the wall, speaking out of the corner of her mouth to a figure concealed within the alley. Had she thought about it, she might have reflected that it was a novelty not being the strangest feature of this particular environment right now.

"No... You mustn't come out... Someone will see you... I am perfectly fine, I assure you, Stanley... Whatever was going on here seems to have passed... What's that...?" She peered at the distant figures her companion had brought to her attention. "No, I don't think you should make yourself known, Stanley... Oh calm down, dear, you know your accent gets very thick when you get yourself agitated... No, I don't think you need to meet them, dear... Those, I think you will find, are only men in costumes."

"Uh... Police…? Yeah, that's right... Why'd I have to wait so long...? Look, never mind... I, uh... I got a break-in under me here, my shop... Yeah, I live above... Yeah... Look, does that matter…? The guy's still there. Uh, I don't really care if you're busy, you know that…? Look – the guy is still here! If you send a car you can catch him! I'm not shouting! I don't dare shout, because like I say... The guy is still here…! Hold...? You gotta be kidding...!"

Beneath the apartment, in the shop, all was suddenly quiet. After ransacking the place for what he needed – or, let's be honest, what he wanted – the Rat King stood in front of a full-length mirror. The coat hung almost to his ankles. The dark glasses were just what he was looking for.

He applied the final touch – the broad-brimmed hat. Now he was ready.

Freddy was distinctly pleased with himself. OK, things still hung in the balance, but all in all it was going pretty well. The best thing of all was not only managing to recapture April O'Neil but ensuring she would be instrumental in the Turtles' downfall after all... Some things were meant to be. Hey... Who was this guy...?

He and his two accompanying Foot ninja had been walking at a brisk pace along the deserted street, not far now from the junkyard. Anyone unwise enough to be out in these early hours had wisely given them a wide berth. The one thing they didn't expect to see when they turned the corner was some tall guy in a long coat and a hat acting as if he had nothing to fear. Strolling up casually and-

-Freddy choked as the hand reached out, gripped his throat and slammed him against the wall. His two attendants took a step back before rushing forward as one- "Stop them…!" said the Rat King. "Or I snap your neck."

Freddy didn't actually need to tell them anything. They got the message, and stood well back. "So," he said casually, refusing to kow tow. "You a relative of the rat guy…? I note a familial resemblance, know what I'm saying...?"

"I have observed your activities," the Rat King said, giving no indication he had even been listening. "You may continue. It suits me very well."

"Well... Thanks..." Freddy smirked, but got no further.

"I need to know more detail, however..." the Rat King continued. "If you lie to me or withhold anything I need, I will rip out your heart and hold it in front of your eyes still beating."

Freddy listened. Then he talked.

Donatello was hard at work, totally focused and probably at his happiest. It was more than his wildest dreams had ever conjured up - well, maybe not the very wildest ones - a team to do his bidding, unlimited resources at his command and vehicles to get him wherever he needed to go and lots and lots of technology that didn't quite work for him to take apart and put back together again.

So that was how he passed the remaining hours till daylight returned. From a work bench strewn with mechanical parts and intricate circuitry, he occasionally moved over and perused the blueprints and maps strewn on another bench.

We're going to consult some experts, he had told Irma, before they had been well and truly side-tracked, but now he was consulting those experts and everything they had at their disposal.

What he didn't have much of was time, and what he had was running out...

Jim McNaughton passed the remainder of the night less happily. His earlier bravado had deserted him when he had realized exactly what he had been following, but by that time it had been too late. When the cab driver had realized it, he had driven off before Jim could climb back inside. In desperation, Jim had found a nook to hide in and huddled there cultivating an agonizing cramp in his leg.

He was hidden on the edge of a vast area of waste ground that had not long ago been the site of several blocks of derelict slum housing. Soon it would be covered with something far more upmarket, but for now the site suited the Foot Clan perfectly. There were several approach roads and, more to the point, several escape routes.

Jim kept to the shadows, but with the sun starting to come up those shadows wouldn't hide his substantial bulk much longer. The Foot ninja would see him if he emerged, and it didn't seem likely on balance that he could outrun any of them.

He could see some of them unloading stuff from the back of the Channel 3 van, his van, as well as a very unhappy April O'Neil. He watched with a smirk on his face, cramp momentarily forgotten, as his rival reporter, her hands tied behind her, was roughly escorted to join the others about a hundred yards from the van.

Serves ya right, he thought. I'm a dinosaur, am I...? Well, rumors of my extinction have been greatly exaggerated... Jim was pleased with himself for that particular quip, but annoyed there was nobody for him to say it to.

They had left the doors slightly open and unattended. No one was in the cab, or as far as he could tell anywhere near the van. All attention seemed to be focused on his colleague Miss O'Neil... What else is new? he thought bitterly.

So... Oh, what the hell... Jim ran for the van.

Clambering up into the back of the vehicle with some difficulty, Jim made straight for Kevin the driver's jacket where it lay on an open equipment box. "Keys, keys, keys..." he muttered. "Come on, Kevin, I know you got a spare..."

Nothing. Catching a glimpse through the slightly open doors, he saw Foot ninja approaching, and he panicked and jumped out again.

Matt and another of the ninja watched as Jim left the scene. "You want I should get him back here?"

Before Matt could answer April cut in. "No point taking him hostage. They'd pay you not to give him back." Matt smiled, and April saw it. She smiled too.

Annoyed at having momentarily dropped his guard, Matt tersely answered the question. "No." He glanced at the rising sun, then his watch. "It's almost time." He stepped in front of April, almost trying too hard now to be ruthlessly business-like after his brief lapse. "OK, listen carefully. You're only gonna get told this once, and any mistakes or any attempt to be clever will go very badly for the other prisoners. Clear...?"

"Yes, sir!" she mocked. He could have had a perfect salute too, if her hands hadn't been tied. His loss.

Jim ran away as fast as he could, oblivious to the fact that none of them had any intention of chasing him.

When Freddy arrived back at the junkyard he was still shaken, and angry at having been humiliated in front of his people again. He was in no mood to talk to Jake when he came running up to him urgently. "What?!" he snapped.

"You got a call," said Jake.

"A call... What kind of call?"

"A phone call."

"OK..." A feeling of dread washed over Freddy as he realized there was only one real possibility to explain this. "Did they leave a number I can c"-

-"They're still on the line." That confirmed it. Freddy's jaw clenched.

The Rat King arrived at the edge of the site and stayed hidden. Quietly, calmly, he closed his eyes and concentrated. His mind reached out, in all directions. Tentacles of thought, stretching into spindly threads the further they got from him. From his mind to the minds of every rat within range. That was a lot of rats. Now they were activated once again, and the next phase was ready to begin.

"Hey! Couldn't you at least tie my hands in front so I can hold the mic?" April demanded sullenly. Her Foot ninja guard obligingly held the microphone in front of her, and she looked at it and sighed. "Uh, thanks..." she said insincerely. "Not quite what I had in mind."

Eyeing the surrounding activity in what she hoped would be taken as a casual manner, she took in every detail - this situation had the best potential for escape since her recapture by the Foot. "At least try to hold it steady," she berated her attendant. "Not so close..."

The ninja adjusted the position of the mic. "Yeah..." she said. "You're a real natural."

Soon after they went on air, the channel and then the police department would know where they were, and the clock would start ticking for a hurried evacuation. Foot ninja stood over the technicians threateningly while they hurriedly ran cables from the van in preparation for the impromptu broadcast, while their own van was on standby to leave. The Foot may have been on the rise again, but they weren't ready for a pitched battle with the police yet.

I told you you would help us, Freddy had said to her before he had gone off somewhere else, and so you will... April shivered, and not just with the cold. Say what you like about the Shredder or Tatsu, but neither of them had been creepy. She idly wondered what would make a kid like Jake throw in his lot with the Foot Clan. That other guy too. Speaking of whom...

"What's up?" Matt took in the situation. "You can untie her now, you idiot. What do you think she's gonna do?"

"I got no orders," the ninja replied obstinately.

"Well, if she kills us all with her bare hands, I'll take full responsibility," Matt said with contempt, startling April by turning her round and freeing her hands. He grabbed the microphone and handed it to her.

"Uh, thanks," she said awkwardly. As Matt turned to go, she stepped after him and called out "Hey, you're Jake's friend, right...?" He turned to face her. "I'm April. Hi... Looks like we're gonna be working together, huh…? How'ya liking showbiz so far?"

"I know your name. You know I know your name. You're trying to bond with me because you think somehow that will help you." He turned away again.

Don't let him walk away, ask another question... Perhaps it was the microphone in her hand, but April's training and experience kicked in. "Hey...!" To her surprise, that made Matt stop. "Uh, is it working?" she asked hopefully with a brittle smile.

He paused, just for a moment, before continuing on his way. April impulsively followed a couple of paces, but Mister I got no orders stepped into her path. OK, OK... She held up a hand in annoyed resignation and went back to her place before the camera, toying anxiously with the microphone.

"'Bye, Matt..." she added quietly.

"What the hell is this...?" At Channel 3, Ed leaned over the desk to get a better look at the tiny monitor showing him the feed from the outside broadcast van. A masked Foot ninja's face filled the screen.

"This feed goes on air and stays on air," said the ninja calmly. "It stays, till we say it stops. Or our hostages suffer. You got that?"

Clutching the microphone till her knuckles turned white, April tried to focus on the lens and ignore the Foot ninja all around. Kevin stepped up to the side of the camera and signaled to her... Three, two, one... "We on…?" she asked, and looked at the camera lens. "OK. This is April O'Neil, Channel 3 reporter..."

With their strange and diverse group of friends, the Turtles were still hanging around in Holland Square, trying to formulate a new strategy. Leonardo was surprised when a uniformed cop walked up to him and pressed a walkie-talkie into his hand, and looked at the man questioningly.

The cop indicated he hold it up, and Leo did so. - "Turtle... You there…?" Chief Sterns' voice crackled from the speaker.

"Yeah..." said Leonardo. "What's up, Chief?"

In the Crisis Control Room, leaning on the center desk with one hand and clutching the walkie-talkie to his ear with the other, Chief Sterns looked grim. "You're gonna want to hear this."

April's voice issued from the TV set up in the corner. - "...I, along with several other employees of the channel, am being held hostage by the Foot Clan..."

Donatello had a TV set up in the corner of his work space. At the sound of a familiar voice he looked up, his attention caught. - "I've been instructed by representatives of the Foot to convey their position..."

"That position is this..." April continued. "The Foot are anxious to meet with representatives of... another Clan, the Hamato, who will no doubt be watching or listening to this broadcast... The Hamato... know where this meeting is to take place and if they submit themselves before noon the, uh... hostages... that is, us, will not be harmed. If not, no such... promises can be made...

They also want me to inform you that they have possession of a certain... resource, and believe it would be unfortunate if that resource managed to find itself getting into anywhere it could cause trouble..." She found her gaze drifting toward the ninja carrying the keg of mutagen. "The water supply, say...

And if I might add a short message of my own for the Hamato..." April saw that Matt's hand was poised ready to pull the cable out and cut the broadcast at a half-second's notice, and she chose her words carefully. "Uh... Sorry, guys. Don't, uh, shoot the messenger... If it was just me here, you wouldn't be hearing this. I just don't want these other guys hurt... I trust you, OK…?"

Chief Sterns picked up the walkie-talkie again. "What do you think?" he asked Leonardo abruptly.

- "We got no choice, Chief..."

"You're a very... um, brave Turtle..." Sterns couldn't quite believe he had just said that.

- "Uh, thanks..."

"You're welcome." Sterns awkwardly ended the exchange.

"...This is April O'Neil, reporting live. Kidnapped by the Foot Clan. Tired, cold and, frankly, having a really, really horrible weekend..." One of the Foot ninja gestured to stop and snatched the microphone from her, and at that moment they heard police sirens faintly in the distance.

"Time to go," said a ninja, and led the way back toward their waiting van. The Channel 3 crew looked around, confused, as the Foot retreated. "Leave them," the ninja called as a couple of his comrades tried to herd them toward the van. "There's not enough time." For a second, April dared to hope that meant her as well.

"What about her...?" asked another ninja. "Do we leave her too?" He had to go and spoil it.

"Yes!" April answered eagerly. "Freddy did say that. I heard him. 'Soon as the broadcast is over, let her go, that's what he said."

"No way. She's coming with us." April's heart sank at that, as she was grabbed and shoved in the direction of the van. The worst part was that voice had been Matt - So much for bonding. She saw that, in the back of the van, a couple of Foot ninja were packing away gear, as well as unpacking... Oh, no... Coils of rope...! Gimme a break...!

Kevin and the technicians looked like they were spoiling to intervene, to try and help her, but a couple of Foot ninja faced them down and they reluctantly retreated... April thought quickly. A minute from now she would be in the van, and all hope of escape would be gone. If there was to be any chance, it had to be now. She tried slowing her pace, pretending to stumble. OK...

She chose her moment, and the ninja escorting her, Mister I got no orders himself, was taken by surprise. She ducked down, and as he leaned forward she turned and punched him full in the face. The shock of it more than the force of the blow felled him and April stood for a moment, almost as surprised as he was. Only for a moment, though. Then she ran.

A Foot ninja appeared right in her path, and she veered left. Another one waited. Off to the right and another ninja nearly caught her. April was soon running out of directions to go in...

"Donny...? It's showtime. Whatever you got, we're gonna need it..." Leonardo stood in Donatello's workshop looking round at the controlled chaos. His brother looked up at him, one eye vastly magnified by an eyeglass.

"Go ahead and book the hall, Leo..." said Donatello. "I think I got us a showstopper."

The Channel 3 van was abandoned, cables still snaking out the back and running up to the rear of the camera. A pair of booted feet casually stepped over the cable and the Rat King walked in front of the lens. He took the microphone from where it had been slung and, like a seasoned broadcaster, he spoke clearly and confidently.

"Can you hear me...? Put me on air right away... I wish to address the people..."

Back at Channel 3, Pete was monitoring the feed and he automatically laughed at the audacity of this guy, whoever he was. "Are you talkin' to me…?" he asked, before remembering the guy couldn't hear him, and looked round to see if anybody else was seeing this.

"Yes," the Rat King replied. "I am talking... To you."

"Where is she…?" One of the retreating ninja shrugged as Matt grabbed him. "Where's the reporter...?" The first police cars were visible now, and the Foot were running out of time. If April escaped again, this time on his watch...

Mister I got no orders stumbled up to him, rubbing his jaw through the mask. Matt grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Please tell me you haven't let her escape…?!"

Matt forced himself to remain calm. Think. He scanned the terrain around them, and his eyes fixed on the dilapidated buildings a couple of hundred yards away, the remains of some old factory. "Take the van to the backup rendezvous!" he called. He quickly deployed the other ninja standing nearby.

"You, you and you," he said sharply, "Round and approach from that side. You and you, with me..." He set off at a run.

Across New York, a carefully co-ordinated and focused program of sabotage was taking place. Swiftly, almost silently and entirely unnoticed. Cables were cut, nibbled through efficiently, while others were pointedly left alone. Controls were re-set, very precisely. Video and audio feeds were cut off. Communications shut down. A city left temporarily blind and deaf.

While all the other channels showed only static, Channel 3 was left running. Throughout the city, dials were turned, remotes were picked up, channels surfed... All surfing led to the one channel still operating...

April pressed herself against the crumbling wall, heart thumping, hardly daring even to breathe. She could no longer hear anyone pursuing her, but it was far too early to be counting any chickens. Time was on her side, though, and that gave her hope - if they delayed the Foot would find themselves in a lot of trouble.

Still nothing… Relief flooded through her as she dared to believe it was going to be all right. OK... Maybe now she could risk a look... She crept along to the edge of the wall, and slowly edged round, just enough and no more, to check the coast was clear...

A Foot ninja stood inches away, looking directly at her...!

As she stepped back, April heard sounds behind and to the side as others approached, and didn't need to look to know she was trapped. Trapped and recaptured... Again!

"Yeah..." she said quietly, despondent but resigned, and raised her arms as they came towards her, as if hoping body language alone could somehow ward them off. "All right! I'm coming, OK...?" she protested as some of them grabbed at her. "Enough with the hands!"

The Rat King stepped forward again and prepared to address his waiting audience, which by now was pretty vast. It may not have included every citizen of New York, but it was certainly a lot of them and virtually all the ones that counted.

"Cut him off!" Chief Sterns commanded in the Crisis Control Room. "Cut this joker off. But leave the feed to here. I wanna see what he does."

- "Nothing, Chief," Ed's voice crackled over the phone line to Channel Three.

"Whad'ya mean, nothing…?"

- "I mean, I got no control."

The Japanese boy came into his grandparents' sitting room at the sound of his grandmother's call. What was it...? He was busy... He stopped, and stared, at the sight of the face on the TV. That guy who left the apartment only a couple of hours ago...

His grandfather came in, down to his vest, demanding an answer to the question he had just hollered from the bathroom. "What, Grandpa…?" the boy asked, irritated. "Uh, no... I don't know what's happened to your little shaving mirror..."

- "Peoples of New York..." Their attention returned to the screen.

The Rat King took off his dark glasses and stared right down the lens. "It is important that you listen to me very carefully now... What I have to say to you is vital..."

All across the city, a vast audience waited, rapt...

- "Sleep..." Something close to four million people entered a trance state. Ready. Waiting. Receptive. "Peoples of New York..." the Rat King whispered. "To borrow a memorable and somehow apt phrase... Consider yourself... One of us..."

Next: The Turtles hit the road, Jake isn't the only one in two minds, and more than one trap is sprung…