Irony.
It's like rain on your wedding day
It's the free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought.... it figures.
I know most people think Alanis Morissette is a "girl's" singer. I guess with some of her stuff, that may be true, but the lady knows Irony.
Apparently, so did I.
I'd gone through all this crap to try and help Don out, I came along on the shin dig (scared to death, I might add) to try and back up Casey, the all mighty Raph otherwise known as God, and the Keno kid (Who actually seemed okay, but knowing the other two, they would have him all filled in about me in no time—and have him expecting to wake up to me trying to wrap his neck with piano wire or something). I had gone through hell to get myself off my ass and do good.
Guess what all this got me?
It was close to two am when I finally gave up on sleep. There were too many things racing around in my mind, and I had a nagging feeling that we'd overlooked something.
Something.....really important. Lying there in the dark wasn't going to do a damn thing. So, I decided to "go walk about" as the Australians say. A little night air would do me good anyhow.
Yeah, Dan. Guess what you forgot?
"Sit down, kid." Raph blocked my path. "You ain't goin' anywhere."
"I'm going to get some air and think." I said, not realizing what I was dealing with.
"You're gonna lie down and shut up." Raph said. "Don't think I've forgotten, boy o."
I felt like screaming. Dani the betrayer indeed.
"Raph, I'm not going to take off. God damn it, I've done my time. I'm not the same kid who..."
"Save it." Raph growled.
"You want to rehash the past? Fine. I ran for help when Shredder was going to kill you. I lied with his blades under my neck to protect you. How's that for pay? I risked my life to atone."
He looked furious for a second, and then shrugged it off. "Sorry, Saint Danny. No way in hell am I trusting you."
"Then why should I help you?" I asked. I knew why, though. I owed it to Splinter.
"Sorry, Kid. Only way you're getting outta here is ta move my shell away from the door."
Jessie wouldn't put up with this shit. I thought. 'Course, she wasn't me. And I wasn't stupid. I might have changed, but I didn't weigh more than a buck thirty, and he was a ninja. Momma Pennington didn't raise no fools, as they say.
"Raph...." I tried again.
"I gotta hockey stick, and I know how to use it!" Casey shouted.
I shut my mouth, and went back to bed. But not before I saw Raph's grin.
Rage flowed through me. I wanted to scream, I'm trying to help you, you stupid green son of a bitch! Mostly, I wanted to wipe that grin off with a baseball bat.
In your dreams, Pennington, Jessie said, in the back of my mind. I realized I was thinking a lot about her. I missed her. It was nice knowing someone had trust in me.
Jessie always said that the key to a royal fuck up in any job is a lack of trust. I was sure she would love that happy crappy.
'Course, if they thought they were dealing with the same Danny from months ago, they had another thing coming.
A boy can grow up in an amazingly short period of time.
I didn't exactly blame them for not trusting me—but it didn't hurt any less. And I sure as hell didn't want to hang out where I wasn't wanted.
So when Raph and Keno left that morning to go check out where Casey and I had seen Don, I figured all I had to do was ditch Casey (Who apparently was supposed to be baby sitting me under the disguise of "holding the fort". Yeah. Right).
Yeah—piece of cake. Ditch the psycho with the hockey sticks.
I knew not everything my girlfriend did was orthodox. I mean, when we got locked out of my apartment, she picked the lock with a bobby pin with as much effort as a strongman uses carrying a pillow. She said she learned it in Catholic school. I didn't ask. I didn't want to know. I guess I could really say that I didn't care. But I also knew that sometimes she knew things about gangs, and busts that didn't come out in the papers until a week later. My point is simply that I figured if anyone could help me get to the bottom of this, anyone I could trust (and more importantly, who would trust me), it was her.
I just had to figure out how to get to Nanna Grisby's without Neanderthal man tagging along.
Actually, this turned out to be a piece of cake.
Fifteen minutes after Keno and Raph left, thuds sounded on the roof, and footsteps rang on the fire escape.
Foot.
I knew the sound.
"Ah, Christ!" Casey whipped out the old hockey sticks. "Seven of the bastards." He turned a dark eye in my direction and growled. "Better book, kid. Meet at Quickie's around the corner in fifteen, or go for the lair."
His eyes didn't trust me at all—and for once all that time, he was right. Quickie's wasn't going to see me anytime soon.
I had business in Harlem.
I'd learned not to argue with Casey Jones, and I did as told.
I admit, I felt a little guilty. Okay, I felt really guilty. I figured Casey was okay, but I didn't want to leave him there. So I figured it couldn't hurt trying to give him some back up.
"Hey! Officer!" I flagged a cop down around the corner. "There's a robbery going on at 223 54th! Apartment 3B! Some old lady's screaming her head off."
He took a good look at me (I've found I do the wide eyed, innocent look pretty good, and I didn't have to fake fear).
The guy radioed it in, got back up, and went to have a look.
Shitty help, I knew, but this was all the chance I was going to get.
Had to mistrust me, didn't you guys? A little faith, and I could be back there slugging it out with him. Now, if I want to be useful, I have to run off like a...a...
Well, a betrayer.
You didn't teach the boys everything, Splinter.
Jessie also says that sometimes you have to harden your heart and just do what you have to do. I figured it was the best way to go.
Following my deployment of the Foot, I have come upon a disturbed ninja of mine. "WHAT IS IT SCOUT?" He is stammering and scared. "Why are you so frightened, are YOU WEAK??" I raise to slap his ignorant face clean, when he stops my hand and utters...
"Master! The docks, I saw a huge person. Blades on his arms, IT IS MASTER SHREDDER!!! HE IS ALIVE!!!"
"WHAT?? SHREDDER!!!" Joy and fear overcome me. Very seldom do I feel this, but I am devoted to my master, no matter what physical state he would be in.
I must return my Master to normal, and wreak vengeance on the turtles!!! "GO, Find Foot Shijo and have him and six of his Foot bring Shredder back here, treat him with respect, show him your emblems and tell him I will be by shortly."
"Yes Master Tatsu," replies the Foot soldier.
I hope Shredder will recognize us for his own servants. The downfall of the turtles would be imminent if I use his power against them. We will be victorious and revenge will be ours!!!
"FOOT. Quickly. We must meet with Mr. Vance and find out if they have any leads on the mutagen or the turtles...! Maybe I can beat an answer out of their turtle captive! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Ahh. This is finally the lead I have been looking for, the informant named Vance is very useful and he will be rewarded well for capturing that turtle. If I have one of the turtles in my grasp, then I can weaken them and wreak vengeance upon then all.
Assembling my best Foot, I go to Vance's meeting point. As I enter into the area, curiously, there seems a bit of disturbance. I hope that one of his scum didn't let the turtle get free. Mind you if he did, there will be hell to pay.
"So you are Vance, what is the problem?.... WHAT?! The turtle got away, HUGHHH!!! Komatta Naaa!! Foot, search for clues, find turtles...."
"Yes Master," calls one of the Foot. As they search, I notice a strip of cloth, AHH blue in color, looks like a bandanna. Leonardo was here. Hah! I also notice the camera.
"Vance! Where TAPE?"
"What tape?" he asks me.
"That Tape, Video Tape," as I point to his well placed security cameras.
We proceed to the office. I notice the prize of the Turtle named Leonardo His Swords. How fitting, I can crush him with his own steel, taking away his status and his life in one foul swipe!! "I will take these, and with these I shall crush the turtles!!"
Mr. Vance seems a bit edgy about the intrusion, and keeps muttering about papers, and formulas. Who Care about files, View TAPE!!
Vance quickly rewinds the tape and finds the section of tape needed. Images of a turtle, thrashing through the lab make me wonder, what did they do to this turtle? He spoke of serums, Hmmm, maybe I can create some new warriors with this, or better yet, cure my master of his mutant overgrowth. Mr. Vance interrupts my concentration with a question: "Is that Donato?"
Hmm. He pronounce like I do, and He's not from Japan, Do Site?? Hmmm?
"Hmm. NO. That Raphael. He wear red bandanna, Donateyo wear purple. Blue is Leonardo, orange is Michelageyo. There is no DONATO h turtle, just Donateyo." Hmm, he not know there are four, a mistake to not size your enemies before confrontation, only a baka Gaijin would do such a thing.
We watch a later section of tape, CASEY! That masked hellion deserves nothing better than death by my swords. He disgraced me, how I'd love to cut his soul out. "GRRRR.... THERE is my hated enemy CASEY. He will beg for death!"
Then Mr. Vance is muttering about vans and such things, and then about feet. "No. They are Foot," as I motion to my skilled ninja. Like I thought before, 'Baka No Gaijin'!
"To follow them, you follow the trace they leave. Mr. Vance, I have proposition for you you bring your best men, and follow us. Help us capture them and we will Double agreed amount."
He wants to use Leonardo for serum experiment, "HMM. Interesting. Agreed! But no Executions without my permission. I wish to humiliate the turtle scum first." That would be unfortunate to have him hastily kill the leader of the turtles without me humiliating him first.
"You may have them at your disposal after I am done. BUT MR. VANCE, I must defeat them in BATTLE!"
He yelps, "Fine sure. Whatever. Here's my cell phone number and my pager. Call me when you get a location." Hmmm. He shows little respect and yaps like an american teenager.
Cell phone, pager, hmmm. Ninja seldom use these modern toys, but this time it must be used to contact these modern gaijin scum. His attitude is lacking proper respect and bushido, but I will let it pass until our agreement is finished.
"Foot. Assemble. Let us follow the trail and claim their hides!" Now that I have the blue one's weapons, their morale shall be crushed. Shredder would be pleased.
My ninjas assemble near the doorway and we follow the trail out to the city. I think this could be a very long goosechase, but I am driven to find the turtles. The trail leads to fourth street. This is the street that reporter O'Neil lives on, hmmm.
"FOOT! Search for clues there must be turtles around here somewhere!"
After looking for twenty minute some of my Foot have found blood stains and some clues on the location of the turtles.
"Foot quickly assemble and Follow them to April O'Neil's Apartment." They are wounded hmmm.
We finally get to the apartment. "Attack from the sides and back window."
My Foot soldiers shatter the windows and break her front door down. We quickly search the area No one is found until I notice the numbers on the door.
Rm 527? NO! NO! NO! "Foot I said it was apartment 531! Apartment 531!"
I could tell it wasn't April O'Neil's apartment because of the smell of mothballs and the fat terrified kitty cat on the afghan on on the sofa!
Hmmm I take some cookies and eat them (Molasses ) "Yuck."
"Quickly my Ninja attack down the hall!" As we turn down the hall, we see shadows leaving the Room and Noises down the hall
"Foot Attack!"
Spaghetti sauce, pizza and ulcers never went well together. Damn the Big Apple. Too much good food and not enough Alka Seltzer. At least Garrison cleaned up most of the mess. He and a few other officers were sloppy with the clean up efforts, but they were getting done. And just in time, too.
"Officer! Officer, wait! May Williams of Channel 6. Just a few questions, sir!" May Williams has always been a thorn in my side. May Williams of Channel 6, August Niles of Channel 13, April O'Neil of Channel 3, June Cleaver at six thirty on Channel 54 . . . Damn this year I've been having.
He's ridding the scene of the reporter. Her van speeds away, leaving us to our work. The few people who stand around are still questioned in general, seeing that this was a hit skip, and both the vehicle and the victim are missing. No witnesses. All that paperwork that'll keep me rather, someone I choose awake for a long time.
"Hey, Garrison," I shouted, heading his direction, "call me tomorrow morning, let me know what's going on with this town."
"Sure thing. Hey, Chief?"
Tiredly: "Yeah?"
"This is probably nothing, all right? I'll handle most of the stuff tonight. We're gonna see a lot more craziness tonight. After all" he pointed up it's a full moon tonight."
"Wonderful. All we need now is Dracula and a few werewolves. Good night, Brian."
One thirty four . . . Only an hour of sleep.
"This had better be important," I told the headset of the phone. The ringing woke me up, and I am not the type of person you'd want to see or hear grumpy.
"I think we have another ninja attack."
I sat up. Garrison never did pull people's cords, and he certainly never dicked around with me. "Yeah, so where to now?"
"I've already sent a few men over there. Two apartments got hit. One of which happens to be one of your personal friends, April O'Neil."
Oh, God. Had April gotten herself into something deep here? She was the one, I think, who had the gaul to confront me about some ancient ninja crap happening, and she happened to be right. A vendetta? As much as I hate reporters, no one's going to make me look like a fool in my own city by killing a major face as that April O'Neil.
"Come and pick me up, Garrison."
"I'm there now," he said. Damned reporters . . .
"Tired, Sir?" a rookie asked after I had yawned.
"What do you think? Go get me some coffee, and a crumb doughnut." The kid hurried off without double taking me. Obedience is well taken. I spoke to the side in Garrison's ear, "Don't let him touch anything."
Garrison laughed. 227 and 231 were both hit. Neighbors were being interrogated by three officers, four were handling 227, and I, Garrison and three others were handling 231, April's apartment. It looked like someone wanted something out of this room. Most of the neighbors who had seen or heard what was going on had the notion that it was definitely a ninja attack. Guys in black, a big, bald guy who spoke Japanese and grunted a lot, and swiftness of their actions like out of a movie.
Fingerprint samples were being taken, but I'd wager a week's salary that we'd only find April's. No one knew that she had parents, and her records seconded this. She also didn't have any close relatives or friends nearby that people knew of. If she had not been home, we had no idea how to reach her.
I doubted, by the looks of things and the eyewitness accounts, that April had been kidnaped. People had said that they didn't even think she was home. This mean that she was out there somewhere, and I needed to know where. Now.
I walked over to the phone. It was laying on the ground, beeping away that it was off the hook. The answering machine also looked trashed. I set it up on the table, placing its tape inside. My gloves made my actions fumbly, but I didn't care; I was too tired to care. I played the message. It was jumbled, the voice unrecognizable.
". . . April, this . . . I need help! T.G. . . . ers are missing. I've been shot . . . at State and . . ." Nothing really worth much. Someone was shot, though, but who? Perhaps she went to the hospital to visit her friend, or even went to pick him up.
"Garrison," I called, as he was checking over something by the window. He looked back at me, as though I had just solved the crime of the century. Not yet, at least. "I want you to send a couple of squads out to search State up and down. Ask around, and if anyone sees any blood stains anywhere, get samples! Also, start calling up every hospital within fifty miles of here. I think April's at one of them. Also, I want a complete list of calls for this number."
He was quick on his feet, literally jumping out of the room to head down to his car. I grabbed the tape and placed it into a baggie that another cop brought over to me. Fifteen more minutes of thorough searching didn't bring me any luck. Whomever broke into here took with them any information April had on other people she knew.
A field expert said that he had collected at least four different fingerprints and five different hair fibers. Two of the types of fibers he said were at least animals. Forensics would enjoy their morning.
"Sir!" Garrison said as he entered. Damned reporters . . .
I had to get back home for sleep. Sleep was not going to come any time soon. The full moon thing has got to be true; every one I've seen has brought up this crap. Not only did the thing with that reporter happen, but a guy in a ninja suit broke into a used car lot and stole a full size van, right into traffic. Also, there was that gang fight at the Italian restaurant, and the drive by spaghetti man slaying; Italian food must be dangerous to your health.
Ugh, my ulcer. I popped a couple of those tablets into a glass of water and watched it bubble. So soothing . . .
Then, there was that gun fight over on the east side that really has me worried; who uses laser weaponry? And the break in at the phone company. Many of these had left clues, especially blood. That's why they all call New York the Big Apple: it's always red with blood.
I love New York.
Go back to Part Two, Chapter Six