Friday afternoon came and passed. The sun set on Manhattan, and one apartment on the Upper East Side was packed with bodies.
April's apartment was, to be perfectly fair, pretty spacious for a centennial building. That being said, it wasn't–in any way, shape, form, or concept of any kind–ever meant to have so many bodies in it. Three humans, five mutants, and five gargoyles in the same living room at the same time had them packed in to the elbows.
April carefully danced tip-toe over Broadway's tail for the fifth time, pressing herself close to the wall, holding her two bowls of chili high over her head. Broadway looked up, and said apologetically through a mouthful of barbecue rib, " 'M forry, 'm I–" He gulped. "In your way?"
"No…" Yes. April said resignedly. She wove around him, then Hudson, then Raphael, and sat down next to Lexington on the couch. She offered him a bowl, which he accepted gratefully. But before she could take a bite, Donatello tugged on her elbow. He stood behind the couch, just behind her.
"Hey, April." He whispered. "Did you get it to him?"
April looked up. "Yeah. He was really upset you weren't there to give it to him in person, Dee. I think he was looking forward to finally meeting you. The way he was talking to us… it felt like a 'goodbye for good' instead of a 'see you this summer.' "
Don deflated. "I… hate to disappoint him." He wove his way through the living room, stepping over tails and sliding around shells to sit down on the opposite couch next to Raph.
In the kitchen, Elisa and Hudson were acquainting themselves with Master Splinter. Comparing the two old men, Elisa was surprised that–even with Splinter's apparent frailty–they carried themselves with the same air of strength and disciplined calm. Splinter's pink, clawed hands were quietly folded atop his gnarled cherrywood walking stick.
"I have been told much about you, Detective Maza." Splinter said. His voice was soft, with an accent that was light, but noticeable to her. His whiskers rose with his smile as he bowed politely to her. "I want to thank you for protecting April. She is precious to our family."
"Thank you." Elisa found herself returning the bow, not entirely certain why. It just felt appropriate. "She's a strong young woman. It's rare to see her kind of bravery and quick-thinking in adults, let alone a kid her age. You must be proud of her." Even if she's paranoid and angry.
"I am proud of them all." He said. "My sons, as well as April."
"Hey!" Casey piped up through a mouthful of barbecue. "I contribute too!"
Hudson chuffed. "I've been wanting to have a conversation with ye about the sort of teachings you've given to them. It takes quite a warrior to train striplings like these; I'd compare our methods, if ye'd do me the honor."
Splinter raised his fluffy white eyebrows. "I would, if you would do the same. There may be much we can learn from each other."
Hudson and Splinter found themselves in deep conversation, comparing strategies of combat and teaching. Elisa filled her plate with a few ribs and a bowl of chili and began making her way to the living room. On her way, she spotted something on the kitchen table.
She leaned a little closer, holding her plate out of the way. A business card, for 'Schultz, Mann, and Powell, P.C.–New York City Family Law.' Underneath it was a stack of documents. The letterhead looked expensive and ornate, an intricate coat of arms with a rampant griffon and unicorn, holding a shield. Chevalier Preparatory Academy–Mid-Year Enrollment for the Spring 2002 Term–Dear Mr. Powell; On behalf of Chevalier Preparatory Academy, we would be happy to accept Ms. O'Neil into our girls' boarding program at the start of the Spring 2002 term. However, the matter of her credit transfer must still be resolved. Please forward her high school transcript to our registrar at…
"So, you're the cop lady?"
Elisa looked up. "Technically speaking, I'm a detective. But yes."
Casey Jones twisted his lips into a doubtful grimace. He was a well-built, athletic-looking young man with broad shoulders. He had thick eyebrows and long black hair, which he kept back in a ponytail. His skin was a warm tan. His nose was slightly crooked, as if it had been broken at least once. Despite his build, the weak scruff on his chin suggested that he couldn't have been far out of high school. Yet another teenager.
"You don't look like a cop to me."
"Good, I try not to look like one. Makes it harder to do my job if I stand out.
Casey shrugged. "If Raph vouches for ya, then I got no issues. I trust him."
"How did you meet?"
"Raph kicked my ass." Casey smirked. "Don't worry, I deserved it."
"That seems to be the trend. You're the one with the hockey mask who… 'met' Broadway and Lexington, aren't you?"
He grinned. He actually had rather nice teeth, for a hockey player. "I gotta protect my dashing good looks. If I can't go pro on the ice, I wanna go pro on Broadway." He paused. "Err, the other Broadway, I mean. Once we actually sat down and talked, they turned out to be pretty chill. I'm cool, they're cool, it's water under the bridge."
"You seem to be taking this well in stride."
Casey put both his hands up, rolling his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "Lady, your friends are only the second-weirdest people I've ever met. I got over the idea of 'normal' ages ago."
Elisa's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm still getting over it."
She left the kitchen, plate in hand. She tried to wedge herself on the couch between Brooklyn and Goliath. Brooklyn slid over as far as he could to give her more breathing room. Goliath couldn't possibly shrink any further into the couch, his long tail curled twice around one leg to keep it out of the way. His bowl of chili and spoon were as tiny as a child's tea set in his hands. His oversized frame on the floral-print granny sofa painted quite a comical picture.
"You sure have a nice place, April!" Brooklyn said brightly.
"Splinter wanted to be at this meeting, and we wanted to make it easy for him. I'm just glad my dad doesn't mind me having guests." She gave a half-smile. "At least, as long as he doesn't know you're here. So let's try not to have too crazy a party, 'kay? Or else Mrs. Ortiz will tattle on us."
"Where is your dad, April?" Lexington asked, delicately dipping his barbecue rib into his chili between bites. "I thought humans your age still had to be with their parents."
Yeah, April. Elisa thought, trying to act like she wasn't listening. Where is your dad?
April slurped her chili. "When he isn't home, I basically have the place to myself. Probably better that way; these guys are all the family I can handle."
Raphael scoffed, sitting on the third couch facing the coffee table, next to Donatello and Leonardo. He bit into his ribs, peeling off a strip of meat with his teeth. "I hear that. I can barely handle you idiots on a good day."
As if to prove his point, Michelangelo peeked his head up from behind the couch, a mischievous grin lighting his pale blue eyes. He licked a finger, and without warning, lifted Raphael's mask and jammed it into his earhole. "Wet willy-jutsu!" He hooted.
Raphael shot to his feet with a roar, mask slipped over one eye, pitching his plate of ribs after him as he fled. Mikey continued to hoot like a deranged owl as he quickly leapt out of his brother's reach.
He straightened his mask and roared, "I'm gonna kill you, Mikey!"
"I'll come back from the dead and do it again!" He sang.
"Get his ass, Raph!" Casey howled with laughter.
"You better clean that up, knucklehead!" April chastised him.
Raphael snarled, vaulting over the couch with one hand to chase. Goliath stood and held out an arm, Raphael nearly clotheslining himself trying to force his way past. "Let him go, Raphael. He is deliberately testing your patience."
"And it's working!" Mikey called from the other room. Raphael only answered with a wordless bellow, struggling to get past the tall gargoyle, who easily held him back. Splinter could only hold his sides and laugh.
Dinner proceeded, with the usual amount of chaos that a large family gathering entailed. Paper plates of bones piled up in the garbage can. They had managed to clean out two whole stock pots of chili and two entire racks of ribs. Jokes were traded, stories swapped, and Michelangelo proved to be the star comedian of the hour–much to Raphael's displeasure and the gargoyles' delight.
When it was all done, they went to business–discussing what they had discovered over the past two days. Spread out on the coffee table was their evidence, arranged and labeled. Donatello stood, hands behind his back. He rocked on his feet.
"Well, I haven't gotten any sleep in almost a day and a half…" He started. "But I finished all the tests I can run with what I have in my lab." He held up the vial full of yellow liquid. "For starters, this is definitely Screwloose's venom. It's been processed, treated with preservatives and stabilizers, but there's no mistaking it. The Foot Clan's been experimenting on captive mutants."
"And we know for a fact that the Pack took them." April added from her seat on the couch, between Lex and Splinter. "I heard them say as much, when I was hiding in the cruiser. Before that psycho Hyena shredded it, anyway."
"What does this venom do?" Goliath asked.
"Great question." Don nodded to him. "Some mutants develop a gift, or talent that has to do with their mutation."
"They're superpowers!" Mikey interjected. "It's totally a superpower!"
"Thanks for that…" Don grumbled. "I was trying to avoid the 'S-word' here. Screwloose's talent is really rare, and it makes him a valuable target. His venom can heal injuries. Any injury you can think of, almost instantly. It also makes you a lot stronger, for about a minute. It has some nasty side effects, though."
"Which is why TCRI's been researching it. Shredder's trying to integrate it into his armor." Leo crossed his legs, resting his bad knee over his good one. The soft brace rustled as he tapped his foot. "What about the virus we planted? Did that get us anything?"
Don nodded. "I didn't get a chance to intercept much communication from the Foot Clan's servers before they shut it down and locked me out. All the juicy stuff is encrypted all to shell. It'd take longer than the lifespan of the universe for me to decrypt it, but I have their cleartext emails. I got enough info to prove that they've been in cahoots with Xanatos Enterprises. Specifically, TCRI's genetics division and Gen-U-Tech were working very closely with each other. They were operating together long before that merger was made formal and submitted to the Securities and Exchange Commission."
"Anything that might tell us where Derek is?" Elisa asked urgently.
Don shook his head. "No. But from what I gathered, I do know that TCRI isn't doing any active genetic research at the moment. In fact, from the shipping manifests? They've basically moved out. Everything they had in their genetics lab is gone."
"To Gen-U-Tech?" Lex ventured.
"It's likely. But we can't rule out the possibility that they've moved to a secret lab."
"What about the arm?" Brooklyn gestured.
"Definitely TCRI. I recognized some design elements from Cyberbiotics, too." Don scowled down at the mangled steel limb. "It's a crude prototype, but April did mention that the Pack was there to field test these drones."
"My partner Matt was working on a B&E case at Cyberbiotics just two weeks ago." Elisa mentioned. "He said nothing was taken, and no intruders were caught. I guess that wasn't completely true."
"The Foot Clan. They specialize in high-tech heists." Leo answered with a nod. "Whatever tests the Pack was conducting, they got the data that they needed. Goliath and I nearly got waxed by the new ones. They're good, but they're still slow. And, even worse, I definitely saw someone who looked like Baxter Stockman in the bottom level of TCRI."
Don's face was hard to describe. Caught between anger and grief and guilt, he frowned at the floor as he went to sit back down.
Brooklyn and Hudson stood, standing in front of the coffee table to give their account. Brooklyn spoke, "Now that I know what mutagen smells like, I can definitely say that these robots are full of it. The traces I found at Xanatos' office match exactly. There's no mistaking it, Xanatos knows that Oroku Saki is using these things, and he knows what's in them."
Don nodded, and added. "It wouldn't be possible for them to run on a conventional internal combustion engine. Jet fuel couldn't sustain them. They have to be all-electric, and from what Brooklyn's gathered, and my research on mutagen? They're running on mutagen batteries."
April's eyes widened. "Holy shit. Then that means–"
"That every single one of these things," Raph growled. "Is a fucking mutagen bomb. And one bad punch could set them off. Or, they could be rigged to blow."
The statement hung in the air in a moment of silence so heavy no one could lift their voice to speak.
Hudson finally spoke, looking quite grim. "The construction site wasn'ae just swept clean. These remnants were buried by people. Someone was there to tamper with the evidence, ensure it would never be found by the police. They went to great effort to conceal that there had been a battle there."
"To take such steps to conceal his wickedness is part and parcel to the Shredder's methods." Splinter confirmed.
"There were two cops who were sent to investigate the construction site the night we all first met." Elisa leaned forward on the sofa. "They said that they didn't find anything there. They've been on the force for years, but they're not exactly the smartest beat cops I've ever met."
"I mean, you're surprised?" Casey scoffed. "I had to drop out of high school, and I could still run circles around some of those clowns."
"The Shredder's had the NYPD on his payroll for as long as any of us can remember." April shot a glance over at Elisa. "When we first met, I was sure you were one of his moles."
That'd explain the hostility. Elisa reasoned. "Well, if it counts for anything, you handled yourself quite well the night I brought you in for questioning. You did your friends proud; I never would have caught you if we didn't have…" She gestured at the room. "Well, this whole situation happen."
For the first time since they'd met, Elisa saw April's face light up with pride at the compliment. Next to her on the couch, Splinter patted her on the back. "Well done, my student."
After Hudson and Brooklyn sat down, Elisa and April stood up. April opened the folder full of developed photographs, each one blown up to full size.
"This is Owen Burnett. He's Xanatos' butler and personal secretary." April announced, holding up the close-up shot of his face.
"We know this man well." Goliath said. "He is completely loyal to Xanatos, and I know him to be a man of dignified bearing and character. He handles many of our affairs at the castle."
"Didn't know he had a last name." Brooklyn muttered.
"Yeah!" Broadway spoke up, seated on the floor by Lexington's feet. "He's the one who did all of our medical exams. And if we ever need anything from the outside, he's the one who gets it for us. Stuff like food for the kitchen, our movies, Lex's gadgets, Goliath's books… he does everything."
"I think I know where your test results went." Leo said darkly. "The conversation I overheard at TCRI makes me think they're using your biometrics to help program the Foot Bots."
Elisa folded her arms. "That makes him a co-conspirator, or at least an accessory." She held up a sheet of paper, a grainy black-and-white Xerox scan of a yellow sticky note. "This is the sticky note I took from my brother's apartment the day he went missing. I logged it into evidence, and our forensics guys analyzed it. It was definitely written by Derek, and it was definitely for an invite to a job interview. It mentioned meeting 'Owen B.' My brother quit his job less than a week later. They hired him so he'd quit the force, make his disappearance harder to track. I'd bet my badge on it."
April spoke next. "I spent some time after school today at Silvercup Studios, trying to get in with my student ID. They turned Elisa away, but they let me through the studio to do a story for my school paper. I didn't get a chance to meet any of the Pack, but I got to talk to the crew."
"Burnett's been making regular visits to the studio, and he's serious about making it there on time." Elisa went on. "He got written up for a speeding ticket five weeks ago, on the exact same route where we tailed him. Big thank you to Raphael and Donatello for helping us with that. As far as I can tell? Every Thursday, he goes over to the studio with a briefcase at 5 o'clock sharp."
"I never saw them meet," April added. "But the crew said that the studio shuts down every Thursday at 4. Their entire shooting schedule revolves around it. Apparently, surprise shutdowns are called sometimes and they're all asked to clear out early. The Pack doesn't want anyone seeing them with Owen Burnett."
April and Elisa sat back down on their respective couches. Mikey fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat between Raphael and Donatello. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite find the courage to speak up. Lexington looked over at him, and whispered. "Michelangelo, it's our turn."
Mikey shook his head, beak pursed tight. He curled into himself so tightly that his head disappeared into his shell. Donatello put an arm around him, murmuring to him quietly. But Michelangelo refused to come out of his shell. Splinter leaned forward, bushy white eyebrows knitting together with worry. Don gave an apologetic glance around the room. "I've got him, Sensei. Will you all please excuse us a minute?"
Quietly, he put an arm around him and encouraged him to stand. After a moment of resistance, Michelangelo eventually relented, just raising his head enough to peer out so he didn't trip on anything. They walked together to the bedrooms, far from the living room. All the while, Don had his arm gently wrapped around him, patting his shell and murmuring quietly.
Lexington looked at the sea of faces, and for a minute, he wished he could hide in a shell too. "Uhh… I guess I'm presenting ours alone, then."
He stood up, ambling over to stand between the coffee table and the TV, as everyone else had before. He held up the plastic, hockey-puck like device he'd used that night. "We, umm…" He stumbled on his words, trying to organize himself. "We went to the Pack's show. We hid in the jumbotron over Madison Square Garden and watched the Pack perform. They were really great, and–"
Leaning against the wall next to Casey, Hudson coughed politely. He rolled his hand, asking him to move along a little more quickly. Lex pursed his lips, and in his head, he reshuffled the narrative a little. "We sneaked backstage together, and we used the radio frequency finders Donatello gave us to track down the jammer in the Pack's van. We found it parked behind the arena, with a bunch of other moving vans just like it."
He set the frequency finder down. "We got the license plate number, and we gave it to Elisa as soon as we got back. But while we were hiding, Michelangelo overheard a conversation between two of the crew members. Chris Bradford, Wolf, is one of the Shredder's elite guard. His underlings are terrified of him."
"The license plate came back clean. It belongs to the studio. It's also the exact same one we saw at the Blockbuster." Elisa added.
April looked back towards her room, looking worried. She faced forward again, and she said, "That tracks. When the Foot Clan burned down my dad's store back in May, there were four ninjas leading them. Their masks and their armor were different. The night the Pack cornered me at that Blockbuster and the guys came to rescue me, Don recognized one of them."
Splinter added his thoughts. "My son has a rare gift. He has never forgotten any event in his life, even from his childhood. If he has identified this man Bradford as the same adversary who assaulted April's home, then he must be believed."
"That sounds just like you, Lex!" Brooklyn piped up. "You've got a great memory too."
"It's not that impressive." Lexington mumbled.
"Oh, yeah?" Broadway folded his arms, quirking a brow ridge. "Well if it weren't for your good memory, we wouldn't even have this next piece of evidence." He stood up, the floor creaking as he made his way to the front of the living room to stand next to his brother. He lifted his chin, and announced, "The Grimorum Arcanorum in the castle is a fake. It's a good copy, but it's not the real one."
"What's the Grimorum Arcanorum?" Leonardo asked. "It sounds important."
"It is." Goliath frowned. "It is a powerful tome of spells, first bound by an ancient Roman magus, and passed down through the hands of many magicians since. It was once wielded by the very same mage who turned us all into stone. In its pages was the history of our castle, how we came to be cursed, and how that curse could be undone. It is how Xanatos learned of our existence, and it is why our castle is atop the Eyrie Building. It was the very last thing any of us ever saw before we awoke in your century."
"That's…" Elisa breathed in awe. "That's bad news. Really bad news. If the one in the castle is a phony, then where's the real one?"
"I asked the same question." Broadway answered. "I spent the whole night watching the front door of the Eyrie Building with the binoculars, and I didn't see anyone weird going in or out. But I did hear something interesting."
"Whaddya mean?" Raphael asked.
"Everybody's got a talent." Broadway shrugged. "I got good ears. Really good ears. I hung around outside of Xanatos' office window, out of sight. I couldn't catch everything, but I overheard him talking to somebody about a sword, and a ritual on Samhain Eve. I didn't recognize their voice. But I figure with magic being really rare now and all, whoever he was talking to is the one who's got the Grimorum."
"Sow-when?" Casey squinted in confusion. "What's Sow-when?"
"I know this one." Elisa spoke up. "Samhain is Halloween. Gaelic pagans celebrated it as the start of the darker half of the year. It's why we celebrate Halloween on October 31st."
Goliath nodded. "Elisa is correct. In our day, it was called All Hallows' Eve. It was the feast night of all saints. It was a newer holiday, enacted by the Pope in the century before we were sent to slumber. It was to supplant the traditions of those who were not Christian. The Scots and the Irish were the last to receive the decree, and the last to abide by it."
"Aye, I remember it." Hudson spoke up. "It was shy of two score and ten years before my rookery generation was born when it was changed in the Frankish Empire. There was quite a bit of a fuss about it, plenty who wanted to stick closer to their roots."
Raphael whistled, impressed. "Damn. Made me forget for a minute how old you are."
Hudson chuckled, as though this statement amused him. Brooklyn harrumphed. "We're not that old. Me, Broadway, and Lex turn 37 this year. That'd make the three of us 18 if we were humans. We're nearly your age, technically."
Elisa looked confused, and then it dawned on her. "Right, that makes sense. You're stone for half the day, you'd age half as quickly."
"Ummm… excuse me," Lexington raised a hand. "There's more that I had to say."
Goliath nodded in his direction. "Go ahead, Lexington."
"He overheard another part of the conversation between these two ninjas working for the Pack. The robots are going to be shipped to the studio on Saturday night."
"That's tomorrow night!" Broadway exclaimed. "Are you sure?"
"I'm positive." He said firmly. "The robots will be at Silvercup Studios tomorrow night. A lot of them. Where they're going after that, we have no idea."
Goliath smiled at Lexington. "Excellent work, all of you. You make your clans proud." Lexington returned the smile before going back to his seat. Goliath stood, inclining his head in Leonardo's direction. Leonardo rose, walking to stand beside him.
Elisa frowned thoughtfully. None of this is leading to Derek. If he's been roped into some larger conspiracy, then he's bound to be somewhere in all of this. But where?
She wished she knew.