Part Eight: Clan


In spite of the rough night he had with Raphael, Mike didn't leave the next morning as Rahab expected. He was up as usual at 4:30 am, to give Gaele her breakfast. He had just set the baby down in her revised playpen, when Rahab came into the kitchen, cupping her hands around a hot mug of tea.

"Good morning," Rahab said tentatively, not sure of what sort of mood he'd be in with her.

He gazed at her a moment as though to size her up, then nodded an acknowledgement.

"You okay?"

He looked at her again, his brow furrowed. "Of course I'm okay," he said faintly.

Raphael came in a while later, and squatted down to Gaele's eye level. "So, what're YOU in for," he asked her, poking her belly gently through the mesh. She giggled and grabbed his finger. "Hey, you've got a pretty good grip, kiddo," he said as he played tug o' war with her, until she got bored and let go to play with something else. She bent over and looked at him from between her knees, her head touching the mat, and suddenly she rolled onto her back in a somersault. Raphael laughed at her. "Yeah, it's in the blood, ain't it?"

"What's in the blood," Rahab asked, cocking her head at him curiously.

Raphael squinted at Mike, as though only just noticing his presence, and walked past, deliberately nudging shoulders with him. Mike ignored him, but set his mug of coffee down. Raph suddenly grabbed his jaw, giving it a rough shake.

Mike shook him off. "What the hellz with you, dog wipe?"

"Just wondering why you're such a snivelling little wimp."

"I'm just tryin' to get over how I could be related to a big, ugly, hairless ape like you," Mike sneered.

"Get over it, you putrid hunk of slug snot."

"Refrigerator slime."

"Buzzard puke."

"Bovine smegma."

Raph rapped the back of his hand hard against Mike's plastron, making a loud smack. "Getting LAME, aren't ya?"

"Aww, I must be outa practice," Mike said, trying to grab Raph in a headlock.

"Stop it," Rahab protested. "What are you doing?"

"Hey! It's okay, Rahab, we're just fooling around," Mike said, and sniggered when Raph stumbled backward over one Gaele's toys.

"Man, you're touchy today..." Raphael said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Touchy?? After last night?" Rahab bristled. "I thought you were going to kill each other. I was really scared! I just don't understand what is WITH you all lately!"

Her voice sobered them. Even Gaele looked up from her busywork. Raphael and Mike gave each other a long look, then turned their gaze back on Rahab.

"I guess you and I should have a little talk," Raphael said, leading her toward the stairs.

"About what," Rahab said apprehensively, when they reached the privacy of their bedroom.

Raphael put his hand on her back. "Lissen, do you know what a clan is, dontcha?"

"I think so. It's a kind of family... isn't it?"

"Could be... or it could be a kind of organization, a very close knit one-"

"You're part of the Mafia..."

Raphael gave her an indignant look.

Rahab folded her arms tight. "Sorry. Maybe you can explain?"

"It's not easy to explain... y'see, I could tell it to you straight, and you'd get all wierded out and stop listening, without hearing the rest of the story."

"Oh, I could make things a lot simpler for you, Raphael, if you just answer one question. I asked you this a long time ago, remember? Only we were distracted by my going into labor..."

He looked sideways at her. "You mean the one about the comic book characters? I don't-"

"No-o," she said evenly. "I asked you if you were Ninja..."

His expression faded.

"Are you?"

"Yes," he said.

She slowly got up and stared at him. "Why?"

"To survive."

"You kill people..." she whispered.

He was silent.

"Ninja..." She nearly choked on the word. "I read about them, in this book. They're from Japan and follow these wierd bloodthirsty gods, and practice black magic, and go around murdering people in their sleep... making human sacrifices-"

Raphael stood up. "No, it's not like-"

Her breathing had become labored from the surge of emotion that was welling up inside her. "You have this secret life, don't you? Where you go off and- and- DO these terrible things..."

"I've NEVER murdered anybody, Rahab! What do you know from reading some stupid book? Yeah, some clans ARE like that, terrorizing and extorting and drawing attention to themselves..." His words so surprised Rahab, that she stopped trying to interrupt. "But there's honorable clans, and they are the ones nobody knows much about. Probably because they'd rather live quietly, and mind their own business, until some power-hungry jerkoff decides to start making a lot of trouble for 'em. So, they had to do SOMEthing about it."

Rahab thought a moment. "Don is... ninja, isn't he? There was always something about him-"

"We all are."

"ALL? Even Mike?" She dreaded to recall all the abuse she had heaped on him.

"Don't worry about it, Rahab," Raphael said, as if reading her thoughts. "It's one thing to have a little family squabble. It's a whole 'nother ball game when some thug is coming at you with a deadly weapon."

Rahab nodded absently as she sank back onto the edge of the bed.

"We do what ever it takes to protect ourselves, uh? And sometimes we gotta kill people to stop them. It's not a pretty sight, but it gets the job done."

Rahab said nothing.

"You wouldn't hesitate to fight back if someone tried to hurt Gaele, wouldja?"

"No, I wouldn't," she said and sighed.

"Then you get the idea? We're sort of like a... police force, only we have to be judge, jury and um, executioner. Not simple decisions to make, it took us years of intensive physical and mental training from the best teacher that ever drew breath- I told you about Splinter- and I seriously doubt we would have made it this far without him and that kind of training." He gazed at the floor.

When she got up, he looked at her, and grasped her arm. She let him pull her to him, and set her on his lap. He enveloped her in a firm embrace. She rested her hands on either side of his face, and looked into his pale eyes. "You ARE being straight with me..."

"I am, Rahab. You can bet your life on it. Trust me."

"Can I ?"

"Don't you know I would die for you?"

She closed her eyes to avoid his intense expression. "Please... don't say that. It scares me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd go on living, that's what you'd do. You gotta fight every inch of the way to follow YOUR path, not anyone else's. You've got a lot going for you, Rahab, more than you give yourself credit for... and nobody can stop you from getting what you want. You just have to learn to channel that energy, and stop spinning your wheels..."

She felt an immense hunger when he said this, not a physical need, something deeper, more spiritual. She clung tightly to him.



Things settled down for a while... until Don returned.

Don took both Raphael and Mike off somewhere, and when they came back later that night, Don was in a black mood. Rahab stayed well out of his way until he locked himself in the rooms on the third floor, reserved for his exclusive use.

"I told you, I don't like talking about people behind their back," Rahael said, as they were getting ready for bed that night.

"I just want to know what he has against me, that's all," she muttered, pulling the comforter over her. Raph rolled in beside her, and lay on his side, facing her, his head resting on one arm.

"Don has nothing against you, babe. Actually, he likes you. He's just preoccupied with things in his own life, he's got a lot of responsibilities..."

"Like what?"

"His businesses... hey, you little conniver, I said wasn't gonna discuss him-"

She got up on one elbow. "C'mon, Raph. Shouldn't I know something about my own brother-in-law?" She tickled him lightly under the chin.

He grinned and stared at the ceiling. "Okay, I'll tell you how he got all his dough. He designed some stuff for the government. He was always coming up with these wild contraptions, when we were kids... he's sort of an inventor. He had a tough time of it at first, because people were more interested in what he looked like than what he had to say. You think he doesn't talk much, but he sure as hell can talk his way in or out of anything. The ones who listened are now living very well. Sometimes I can't even grasp the stuff he knows about... he gave up tryin' to explain it to us a long time ago. He has some kinda memory... he could read a book once and put it down and recite the whole damn thing, word for word..."

"Is that right?" Rahab said, astonished.

"Seriously! When we were little kids, we used to try to find ways to trip his head up on stuff. Our sensei used to give him really hard words to spell, and he'd get them all right, or some big, complicated math question, and he could solve it in his head faster than I could do it on a calculator. He's some kinda genius. Last few years, though, he's been preoccupied with something. He works like crazy, accumulating money. Jeez, let me tell you, he's got more money than anybody."

"Oh," Rahab breathed. "No wonder he's so - I don't know - picky?"

"Hey... don't start chasing after mice." He lowered an eyebrow at her in mock reproach. "Come to think of it, if I had the entire civilized world at my beck and call, I'd be picky, too."

"He does?" she said. "Amazing."

"Not that he makes it obvious. What I meant was he could do anything he wants. He has a lot of power. He doesn't wield it, or flaunt it, but if he had to, he would. But who could force him on anything? Nobody can reach him. They can't even come CLOSE..." He suddenly went silent, as though catching himself from saying any more.

Her mind was churning. Don, a genius? In the dim past of her previous life, she had met people who thought they were. Scientists, doctors, professors... but they didn't carry themselves the way Don did, and now she understood. She believed true geniuses led lonely, frustrated lives. Their way of thinking was so beyond the norm, how many people could they relate to, who could understand their fears, or hopes and ambitions? She made up her mind to get Don to talk to her, and she'd look for every opportunity to do so... She fell asleep on that thought.



The new snow on the ground reflected the sun so brightly, it woke her early, despite the closed curtains. She sat up and noticed Raphael's side was empty, as usual. She rarely ever saw him sleep past daybreak, except after he came back from a long trip the night before. She dressed quickly and went downstairs. The housekeeper Marietta, a sturdy young darkhaired woman, was watching Gaele, and Mike was nowhere to be found. It was unusual for him not to be around the baby, at this time of day, though he did go off occasionally to meet his girlfriend in the city, but that was in the evenings. He must be with his brothers, then... Strange, something must be up. She put on her coat and poked her head out the back door. It was terribly cold. She squinted out over the blazing white expanse of the back lawn, but there were no tracks. Maybe they had gone another route... Stumbling, she waded through the deep snow to the line of evergreens, but everything looked undisturbed. It was obvious no one had been through here since last night, or even the day before. She made her way down to the river, which was frozen all the way across, from the cold snap. She rubbed the frost formed by the breath from her nostrils. She pulled her hood back to squint out at the blinding surface of the ice, but nothing moved as far as she could see, and it was so quiet she could hear nothing but the blood thrumming in her ears. In all that vast, white stillness, something was not right. She could not see anthing out of the ordinary, but she felt unfamiliar eyes on her. Nervous and half frozen, she hurried back to the house.

When Raphael came back, she told him of her worry. He listened carefully, but didn't look very concerned. "Things always seem wierd after a snowstorm, sweetheart. The snow absorbs sound, and makes it seem eerie quiet, doesn't it?"

His answer puzzled her, but she thought nothing more of it until nightfall. Don joined them for dinner, talking more than he ever had before. He seemed to be in high spirits about something. Rahab was about to ask him a question, when she noticed his eyes flick toward the dark, bay window at the end of the dining room. He glanced back at Rahab, and gave her a polite smile.

"Will you excuse me a moment?" He got up and carefully folded his napkin, and laid it beside his partially eaten plate.

Raphael and Mike didn't seem to notice. A few seconds later, as though time to seem casual, Mike got up and went into the back, toward the kitchen where Gaele was playing with Marietta. Raphael looked over at Rahab, but didn't get up.

"Where is everybody going," she asked him.

Raphael shrugged. "I dunno."

Rahab stared at him, while he leisurely cut a piece of his steak and ate it.

The driveway floodlights went on. She went to look out the bay window, but Raphael suddenly blocked her path.

"Go upstairs, Rahab. NOW," he said in a strange, quiet voice in her ear. The question forming on her lips died when she saw the black, sheathed katana that he held close to his left flank.

Without a word she turned and hurried up the staircase. She met Mike at the top, Gaele on his arm. Marietta was standing behind him, silent and scared looking. Rahab caught Mike's eye, and he gave her a slow, confident smile. He led her and the housekeeper into an empty guestroom, and gestured for them to sit on the floor between the bed and the dresser, well away from the window. Mike set Gaele down on a blanket with a bottle of her favorite drink. Clever, Mike. Rahab thought, as she watched the baby roll back and contentedly pull at the nipple. That would keep her quiet for a quite a while. Marietta promptly scooped Gaele up and held her in her lap.

Time passed, marked by the chime of the clock striking nine, downstairs in the foyer. Silence.

Mike sat with them a while, then slowly rose and padded noiselessly across the hardwood floor to crouch by the window. Rahab looked over the high bed to see where Mike was, but he gestured sharply for her to keep her head down.

The clock struck ten, and still nothing was happening.

Gaele had dozed off with the bottle in her mouth.

Rahab looked up to see where Mike was, but couldn't see him, now. The lights were all out, downstairs. Her body was starting to complain, but she didn't dare move.

She suddenly woke from a light doze to see the black figure of a man standing over her and a shadow catapulted across the room. The movement of air fanned her face, before her brain even sent the message to scream. A terrific crash made her heart flip over, and Gaele and Marietta jumped in unison. The figure was gone. Mike was gone... Rahab leaped over Marietta and out through the splintered doorway into the hall. She couldn't see a thing... A hand shoved her roughly back into the room.

Another crash, like the sound of a huge window shattering, came from downstairs and she bit down on her lip to stifle an outcry, nearly falling on top of the housekeeper.

Gaele wailed and struggled to get free of Marietta.

Rahab's heart was pounding in her ears. Another strange black figure appeared, and she lashed out at it in reflex, her claws biting deep into soft flesh. Her tail whipped around and made solid contact with something that folded with a grunt on top of her, and then went limp. Someone then yanked the body off of her, and hauled her up by her arms. She gaped and hissed in terror,

"Rahab! It's me," a harsh whisper said in her ear. She nearly fainted in relief, when she realized Mike was back.

He snatched up Gaele, who had been belting out earsplitting shrieks by the lungful while struggling to get away from Marietta, and slid into a sitting position against the wall, holding the baby firmly against him until she calmed down.

Rahab nudged him. "Is it over?"

Marietta was sobbing quietly behind her.

He shrugged, and shifted Gaele into a more comfortable position, and hauled the comforter off the bed to cover them from the cold drafts of air coming in from somewhere. They waited, with only the shuddering breaths of the baby breaking the silence.

Mike stared into space a long time, then yawned and closed his eyes. Rahab frowned at him. How could he sleep at a time like this? She heard the clock strike the half hour. Half hour after what? It seemed like they had been there for days. Like there was a war going on. Was there?

Someone kicked her, and she started up, until she realised it had been Marietta's foot. The housekeeper was rolled in a blanket, curled up on her side. It was getting light outside. The air was frigid. Mike was still in the same position he was last night, bundled up with Gaele in his arms. Rahab got up stiffly, kicking the comforter aside. His eyes followed her, but he said nothing.

"Can we get up or not?" she whispered, shivering.

Mike gave her a wan smile and slowly closed his eyes.

"Well?"

"You want to go out there by yourself, or wait for Raph and Don?"

She sat down again, and pulled the comforter back over her.

She dozed off, and then felt someone shake her roughly. When she saw Raphael's face looking down at her, she leaped up and embraced him, hard.

"Where've you BEEN?"

"Cleaning up," he said. He was wearing his coat.

Mike was helping Marietta to her feet. "Party's over, time to go home!" he said cheerfully.

The housekeeper muttered something in a foreign language.

Mike sniggered. "I don't blame you a bit, my dear lady. Though I must say, you Italian women are some tough stuff!"

"Mike," Raphael said sharply.

Mike approached him, and Raph whispered something in his ear. Mike licked his lips and looked at Rahab and Marietta soberly. "Do me a favor, ladies? Don't look around on the way out, huh?"

Marietta said something and crossed herself, and pulled the edge of the heavy blanket up over her head.

They carefully descended the stairs, which had somehow lost its banister. Rahab's curiousity got the better of her, and she stole a glance through the wide doorway of the dining room, as they passed. She gasped when she saw the ragged, gaping hole where the bay window had been, glass shards and broken wood scattered over the floor, and mixed with the debris of broken dishes from the overturned table. Snow had drifted in, dusting everything in a layer of white. She stepped in something dark and sticky, which made her foot skid, and felt Raphael's hand steady her.

A big black sedan was waiting right in front, motor running, and Don stood next to it in his black wool coat, looking intently around him. Rahab was grateful to climb into the heated, plush interior of the car.

Raphael got in last, and the car accelerated as he shut the door. Rahab turned to the rear window for a last look at the house, before they turned the corner. "We aren't ever going back, are we?"

"Nope," Raphael said, as he settled into his seat.

Next Section... Rahab 9

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