"Okay, so two police officers at two different locations on a highway record a subject going 60 mph at one location, and 65 mph at another location. The speed traps are 3 miles apart, and the subject covered that distance in 2 minutes. The cop who caught him at the second speed trap writes him a ticket for going 80 mph. This demonstrates what principle of Calculus?"
April answered quickly. "Rolle's Theorem."
"Close, close." Elisa flipped over the flash card. "Mean Value Theorem."
"Dammit." April groaned.
"Your friend Donatello's good with math. He could help you out with this." Elisa said casually.
April shrugged. "He's busy. Really busy. He's usually got an experiment to run, or training with his brothers, or school."
"School?" Elisa raised an eyebrow.
She nodded. "I told you about my friend Baxter, he helps Don with the harder stuff. I mean… I guess not anymore, not with Bax…" She shook her head. "Anyway, the guys are in homeschool. Splinter does more than just teach them martial arts. He teaches them everything else, too. I usually get my homework done at their place. I've got Driver's Ed this semester, so Leo's been helping me with that."
Elisa shook her head, exhaling gently from her nostrils. "Your mutate friend, without a driver's license, has been taking you out on the highway for your practice hours?"
April shrugged. "Mu-tant. And okay, so he can't exactly sign off on my sheet. But practice is practice, right?"
Elisa sighed, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Alright, step out of the car."
"Why?" April asked.
"I'm going to teach you how to tail a car." Elisa walked around the front of the old red classic, hand on the hood. "And we're getting you hours for your learner's permit while we're at it. Scooch."
April looked down at the console and dashboard with a doubtful eye. "Are you sure?"
"It's nothing like how it looks in the movies, but I think you can handle it. Trust me."
April scooted over, buckling into the driver's side. She started adjusting the seat while Elisa buckled herself up. April fiddled with the mirror. This car was so old, she was afraid that she'd break something if she even looked at it wrong.
Elisa saw this hesitation, and she smiled. "Don't worry. I put this car through the wringer when I was your age. You can't hurt this thing any worse than I did."
"You drove this when you were a teenager?" April gave her a curious look.
Elisa's eyes grew misty. She ran her thumb along the seatbelt. "When I was your age, this was my dad's car. We rebuilt it together. It's… special."
April puffed out her cheeks. "Well, now I'm really scared of breaking this thing."
Elisa laughed. "My dad taught me how to drift and do donuts in this car. She'll take care of you. You can trust her."
"Her?" It was April's turn to arch an eyebrow. "What's 'her' name?"
The detective beamed with pride. "Missy Maroon."
"But it's cherry-red. Why call her–" As April was adjusting the side mirrors, the revolving door of the skyscraper across the street spun open. "Shell, that's him." She pointed.
A man with slicked-back blond hair in a suit that looked both expensive and uncomfortable left the Eyrie Building. He stood on the street corner carrying a briefcase, waiting for the light to change. A crowd of similarly stiff and uncomfortable-looking suits and briefcases seemed to swallow him, like one fish in an entire school of stuffy financiers and executives.
"Alright. Lesson 1: How to Surveil a Target." Elisa lowered April's hand. "Don't point, it'll attract their attention." She twisted a zoom lens onto a particularly nice SLR camera, lifting it to point and shoot. Rather than point directly at Mr. Burnett, she aimed the camera at the rearview mirror of the car.
April gave her a flat look. "You hold it like that, you're gonna get shake when you develop."
"Oh? You can do better?" Elisa raised an eyebrow.
"I'm a reporter, of course I can."
Wordless, Elisa handed the awkward camera to April. She was beginning to get a feel for the girl's style of communication, and her default seemed to be 'harmless sass'. "Show me what you can do, kid."
April lifted the camera, popping open the film cover. "You're using ISO800 in here, that's for night shooting." She deftly slipped out the film, reached into her pocket, and popped in a fresh roll of the correct film. She raised it to her eye, hand carefully cradling the zoom lens as she adjusted the f-stop and shutter speed. "If you shot with these settings during the day, you'd get nothing but white when you develop your film. It would ruin your evidence."
"You know your cameras." Elisa observed.
"I'm taking Photography 2 this term. I can develop these at the photo lab at my school, too. By the way, this is legal. Right? What we're doing?"
"It is as long as we're on public property, like a street. But generally, unless you're a detective or a PI, this would be considered stalking. Once he's in a private building, we need a warrant to do anything else."
"Cool. Because if these jerks get away because we messed up, I'm… I dunno, gonna eat Albearto's left arm." April's finger tapped the shutter button at regular, even intervals, hand gently turning the zoom as she followed their target crossing the street to his car.
Elisa allowed herself a silent chuckle. "Probably more edible than his pizza."
As April's lens followed the blond man down the street, she felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Keeping pace beside him, wearing a formal white business suit and skirt was a woman. The same woman. Long dark hair that almost seemed to float about her waist, filaments of white hair caught in the sunlight like tiny shooting stars in a black sky.
She was looking at her. April knew it, she could sense it, that woman was staring her right down the barrel of the zoom lens. April lowered the camera, afraid that she was going to tell Burnett that he was being photographed. The woman smiled knowingly at her. But as soon as she lowered the Kodak shotgun, the woman was gone. Again.
The blond man hadn't noticed them. He stopped beside his car, slipping inside with the casual air of someone just headed home from work. Smoke curled out of his tailpipe as he started a black Mercedes parked on the street.
Elisa tapped April's shoulder. "Camera down, text Raphael. We're tailing him."
April was good at tailing people on foot. She knew all the tricks; quick disguises like inverting her jacket, keeping a distance, spotting countersurveillance, things like that. Hell, learning how to shadow someone was one of the first things that Master Splinter taught her how to do. A ninja was a spy first and a warrior second.
Elisa's skillset was similar, but at the same time, it was a universe of difference. Tailing someone in a car was a completely different ballgame.
Following someone in general works best if the spy–or ninja, or detective–knows their schedule. Someone who is always on time and never ever late is a spy's favorite person. If a spy can time their lunch break to the minute, then they have a wealth of options available to them. Owen Burnett was one such punctual man.
Two days ago, April had skipped class to pose as a student on tour at the Eyrie Building with a group from some stuffy private school. The uniform was hard to make work, but she blended in. She'd managed to snag a few photos of the reception desk directory after distracting the receptionist. The man who Derek had mentioned in his post-it note on his phone was a man named Owen Burnett, Xanatos' personal secretary.
Yesterday, they were surprised to discover that he swept his car for bugs and tracking devices every day before he got in. Not only that, he made a point of walking a security route to detect tails. April found herself taking notes on the man's routine for personal use. Maybe if she'd been more cautious, Maza wouldn't have found her. In any case, his wariness meant they had to get info from him the low-tech way.
Ninjas happened to be experts in spying the low-tech way.
Elisa's thumbs flew over the keys of her phone as she coordinated with Raphael and Donatello. She kept a wary eye on April's driving as she did, carefully making note of when she used her blinkers and how hard she braked.
He's eastbound on Pine St, left lane on Pearl.
i see him. going now.
Raphael jammed on his helmet, tucking his phone into the pocket of his bulky leather jacket. Decked out head-to-toe in motorcycle gear and wearing a bulky fake backpack, it would have been difficult to tell at a glance that he wasn't a human. He revved the motorcycle and swung out of the parking garage, merging onto Pearl. He pressed a small rubber button on his helmet.
"Hey, Granny Donna. You hearin' me in this thing?"
"Loud and clear, Granny Rachel." He heard the static that softened Don's reply over the radio. "Talk to me."
Raph tapped the brakes on his motorcycle, standing on his tiptoes to see around the traffic jam.
"Idling at the light. Grandson's still in the straightahead lane. Looks like he's makin' for the Brooklyn Bridge, but he might be goin' onto FDR Drive."
"I'll head to FDR and catch him if he tries to lose you. Stay on him."
"Don't gotta tell me twice." Raph took his finger off of the transmit button. He scooted forward into traffic, weaving around a car to stay close. After a few minutes, he was near enough that he could see the man's blond head, just behind the headrest of the car. He had very, very nice leather seats.
Don't mind me, fella. Raph prayed in his head. Just another guy on the road, just like you.
He saw his eyes in the rearview mirror. They narrowed with suspicion.
"Ah, shell." He swore, tapping the button again. "He spotted me, I'm burned."
"Break off, I'll cover you."
Oftentimes, a single person following anyone was suspicious, so it was a task best done in teams; follow the target to a certain point, hand off the task to a trained accomplice, and continue doing so to keep the tail fresh. The more eyes one had on the target, the easier it was to follow them without arousing suspicion.
Knowing this, Raph did as he was told with no complaint. The light turned green and he signaled to pass him. He coasted ahead in traffic, keeping his eye on the black car in his handlebar mirror, watching for when Burnett would turn.
He saw it. "Donna, north on FDR Drive. I'll try to switch clothes and rejoin."
"We got him for now, Rachel." Came Elisa's voice over the radio. "Missy Maroon's covering Donna. We'll tell you where he goes."
"Be careful." Raph warned. He banked left into another parking garage to change into his backup gear.
Elisa put the radio down, looking over at April. "Are you doing okay?"
"Yeah." April wiped her palms off on the leg of her jeans, taking a few shallow breaths.
Elisa shook her head. "April, you're nervous. There's nothing wrong with that, it's why we work in teams. At the next stop light, I'm taking back the driver's seat."
"No, I can handle it." She protested. "Honest. I-It's just hot in here."
"April." Elisa said flatly. "It's October."
"Please, just let me keep trying. I wanna learn. Give me a chance."
Elisa's mind was divided. On the one hand, April was an exceptional young woman, just as her friends were exceptional people. But on the other hand, she couldn't shake the feeling of guilt, the feeling of wrongness that came with this.
Kids had no business being anywhere near danger like this. And if she had other options, she never would have let April or her friends anywhere near this case. This wasn't some comicbook or Saturday morning cartoon show, no matter what April and her friends could do. The good guys didn't always win, and the bad guys didn't always lose. They were putting themselves in danger, real danger. There was no way she could sleep well at night again if anything happened to any of them.
Part of her had to wonder what Derek would think of this; asking kids to help save him. He'd probably scold her, tell her that she was insane for thinking this was any kind of alright. And he probably would have been right. But what choice did she have?
She was going to have to have a talk with Goliath about this, get his thoughts.
The stop light came, the engine rumbling at the light. Elisa tapped April's hand. "Alright, switch."
"But–"
"My car. Switch."
April looked furious for a moment. But it was only for a moment. She sighed, making a big show of rolling her eyes as she unbuckled her seatbelt. They both opened the doors and walked briskly back to their original positions.
The doors slammed, seatbelts clicked, and the light turned green before Elisa could readjust her seat. Punching the gas, she jumped forward into the steel and chrome crowd crush. As the traffic crawled, she twisted mirrors and slid the seat back.
"I could have done it, you know." April crossed her arms in a huff.
I don't doubt it. Elisa thought to herself. But I won't test it. "We're almost caught up with him again. If we need to pull some fancy maneuvers, I'd rather be the one at the wheel than–"
"Than me." April finished. "I'm still one of Master Splinter's students. I can do cool stuff too, you know."
"I believe you." Elisa said.
"Then why won't you let me prove it?"
Elisa didn't answer that. She tugged the walkie talkie from the console, tapping the mic button. "Granny Donna, what's your heading?"
Don pushed the talk button, and replied, "On FDR, wishing I could fly. But I'm still babysitting our Grandson."
In the little white Volkwagen van, Don tried to keep at least two car lengths behind Owen Burnett. But it was getting difficult. Traffic on FDR drive was bumper to bumper, and Burnett didn't seem to be in any major hurry. They slowly trundled along the eastern coastline of Manhattan island, in a teeth-grindingly slow rush to nowhere.
He drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, feeling frustrated and exposed. He flipped down the sunshade mirror, checking his disguise. That ugly George W. Bush novelty mask was still in place. The surgical mask and sunglasses he wore to cover the seams were still secure. Ordinarily, he preferred makeup, but he had to be able to make a quick change just in case they had to switch. Not to mention, it had to stand up to more scrutiny than usual.
It was weird; the more robust the disguise, the less confident and comfortable he felt. In the moment, he felt he would have much preferred his usual scarf and hat rather than the tiny blinding peepholes he could barely see out of.
In between brief spurts of movement, he texted April to relay his position. He followed Burnett all the way down FDR Drive, long enough that he could see the shape of Roosevelt Island in the near distance through the smog. The traffic crawl took nearly thirty minutes. He cursed under his breath as a bright yellow sports car cut him off before he could make it into the turning lane, the black Mercedes quickly pulling far out of his reach. Don briefly pulled out his phone while he was idling at the light.
He's taking the Queensboro bridge into Astoria.
I missed the turn, you'll have to take him.
Gotcha, D. We r close by.
April folded up her phone, tracing a pencil down Elisa's paper map of Manhattan. "We need to be on 3rd Ave. Signal right, take it at the next one-way."
Elisa did as her navigator directed, the gorgeous red classic merging into the traffic. There was the black Mercedes, dead ahead. There was no unnecessary conversation between them as they focused on staying within sight of the car.
After the bridge, he turned right, peeling off through a complicated twist of an off-ramp. April and Elisa barely had time to pull over and find a side street so they could peer after him. But the glimpse they had was all they needed.
"Silvercup Studios?" April sounded confused.
"There are a few film startups in Long Island City." Elisa reasoned. "The Pack must be renting a soundstage close by. Honestly, this should have been the first place I thought of."
"I mean, it makes sense." April said, looking up at the tall, red-lettered electric sign. "Where else would you find a movie crew?" April flipped her phone open, and texted Raph and Don.
We got em. We know where their hideout is.
She texted the address to both of them, folded up her phone, and zipped up her yellow jacket. She scowled at her shoes.
She's treating me like I'm a kid. April fumed. Like I can't take care of myself or anybody. Angry resignation built up in the back of her head, like mud behind the tires of a sinking truck, wheels spinning, driven by her wounded pride and going nowhere fast.
Of course she was treating her like a kid. It wasn't like there had ever been an adult in her world that treated her like anything else. It was like every time she had a chance to prove she was capable, it was snatched out of her hands like a box of matches. The harder she fought for respect, the less she got. It drove her crazy.
"Something eating you?" Elisa asked.
"No." April lied.
Elisa exhaled. Not quite cold enough yet to see her breath, but still cold enough that it put red on her nose and cheeks. "You're upset about me kicking you out of the driver's seat."
"No, I'm not." She lied, more obviously this time.
"April…" Elisa looked down at her. It wasn't like she had to tilt her head particularly far, though. She was only about four or five inches shorter than she was. "I know you and your friends are used to doing things your own way. I don't know everything that's going on in your lives, and I won't pretend that I do. I get the feeling, though, that it's a lot for anyone to go through."
April's deep frown softened into a bitter, resigned stare. "You'd be right."
"You're brave. All of you are, and I think that if the humans in this city understood? The world would be a better place for both our families."
"For both of us, too." April said, bitterly.
"I won't deny it." Elisa acknowledged with a shake of her head. "But understand, I'm not asking you to be Spiderman or Batman. You can't be."
"Why not?"
"Well… you're a–" Elisa's words were cut off mid-sentence by the rev of a motorcycle engine that turned the corner and coasted into the street. The rider wore bulky, oversized riding gear head-to-toe. A black canvas backpack hid the hunch in his back, the gloves on his hands stitched to accommodate three fingers instead of five.
"Made it!" Raph waved. "This the place?"
It was a face that Elisa rarely saw in the girl's seemingly permanent scowl, like a break of sunlight behind gloomy clouds. Her eyes lit up, her frown evaporated into a smile. "Yeah, we found it!" She jogged to his side. They exchanged a fist bump and a laugh, their conversation dull to Elisa's ears.
Elisa stood by, watching the exchange. It was a night-and-day difference in her attitude, a shift so quick and so dramatic that it was almost as if she were seeing two different people. So warm, so familiar was she with Raphael that an image of Beth and Derek rose unbidden to her memory. Talking. Laughing. Like they'd known one another all their lives, and loved each other just as dearly.
If I never saw this side of her, I'd assume she hated everything that breathed. She thought quietly. How strange, it's almost as if–
And then, it clicked. Snippets of conversation rolled through her mind, like a rolodex on a library catalog.
"My dad finding out about that subpoena was the worst night of my life. And trust me, I've had a lot of really, really bad nights."
"It doesn't get easier. Trust me. I've been doing this for literally half my life."
"How long have you been keeping yours? Your secret family, I mean."
"Before today, April was one of the only humans we could ever trust."
"I usually get my homework done at their place. I've got Driver's Ed this semester, so Leo's been helping me with that."
"Detective Maza? We are the good guys."
The brushed off response when she was asked about her parents, the sibling-like closeness that she had with the mutants, the respect she had for this mysterious Master Splinter, it all suddenly fit.
Of course she didn't trust her. Of course she was constantly lying to her. April O'Neil had likely never, in her life, had a human adult in her world that she could fully trust. Not a single one had ever given her a reason to. Not even her own biological family. It explained everything.
Oh my god. Elisa's mind whirled. This poor kid. She has no parents.
Her mind was made up. She didn't know what yet, but she was going to do something about this. And God help the fool who got in her way.