TMNT belong to Peter Laird and Mirage. Dr. Baker belongs to me. I suspect that Mr. Laird makes more money than I do.

Contact

He came awake, convinced that someone was in the warehouse.

He didn't even bother checking; precious time would be wasted, and he would rather be safe than sorry.

Moving as silently as he could, he immediately went to his "escape" hatch- a window that he'd made sure he could easily open and just as easily get through and up to the roof. One of the supplies his friend had provided him with was a fire ladder- one of those ingenious devices that you could hang out of the window of a burning building and climb down to safety.

Only Baker had installed it on the roof, the end attached to a long piece of twine. One quick pull, and the chain ladder came snaking down to him.

Grabbing his backpack and whatever else he could, he was out the window and onto the roof.

That's when he saw the limo waiting in the street- and the two figures, small yet in plain sight, watching him from another building.

Damn. No where to go.

Desperately he looked around. He knew that there would be more on the roof in no time. Quickly he retrieved the chain ladder, ran to the far side, ducked behind some large container that used to house God knows what, and scanned the area. No one. He looked at the ladder. It would not go far, he knew that, but he was a desperate man. He noticed how close this building was to the water. Hanging the ladder so that only one of its anchoring hooks held the side, he shed the backpack and his jacket. Ears tuned to any noise, he quickly put his plan into action.

A scream cut through the night, followed by the splash of something heavy hitting the icy river.

When the two Foot who had gained entry to the room Baker had been staying in, they immediately went out the window, making their own way to the roof without the need of a ladder. As they got on the roof, their colleagues across the way gestured in the direction that Baker had gone.

Before they'd taken three steps they'd heard the scream and the splash.

Quickly they made their way to the other ledge, saw the ladder swinging by one hook. In the dim lights they could see the ripples on the surface of the already agitated river. One pointed. Something was floating on the surface, then slowly sank.

"Mistress, he appears to have either leapt or fallen into the river," one reported into his communication device.

Silence came from the device. The two stood there, uneasy; she was not one to accept such news graciously and calmly.

As if proving their thoughts, she barked a command at them in Japanese. The two stiffened, looked at each other.

"Hai, Mistress!" they responded, and left the roof.

Baker waited inside the empty shell of metal that used to house some large motor or machinery. He'd scraped his arm on a jagged piece of metal when he'd pried the maintenance door open, but he'd gotten it shut without spilling any blood on the outside. It had been hard to remain quiet inside this little space. His arm throbbed, and it was damn cold without his jacket. He had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering.

He heard the two outside; he heard their conversation with someone they'd called "Mistress". Then he'd heard them leave.

But have they really left? Have I indeed tricked them into believing that I have gone into the river?

What to do? If he moved, and they were still out there, they'd find him. If he stayed, and they were still out there, they'd find him. The chances of his freezing to death were good. He knew it wasn't cold enough to do the job quickly, but it was cold enough to do the job.

Sagging where he sat, cradling his injured arm, he closed his eyes. Perhaps he should just end it all in the river- be done with it. At least it would be his terms, and not at the direction of Bishop's group, or at the hands of these- these ninja!

He almost laughed as he sat there; the knowledge that people dressed as ninja were after him was almost surreal. He shook his head, wondering what he had done to deserve such a strange life?

If I could go back in time, I would spit in Bishop's eye and say "No, thanks!" - Hell, I would go back even further and change my major in college to Agriculture!

It came as little surprise to him when the door to this place was suddenly forced open; his attempts to lock it had failed miserably.

With a sigh of resignation, he glanced up at the figure framed in the doorway. His eyes widen slightly at the sight; a silhouette of someone dressed for battle. He could make out the handles of what he suspected were swords just behind the shoulders- obviously strapped to this person's back.

This person. As he stared, he knew before he heard the voice that this was a woman.

"Dr. Baker," he heard her say. "You will accompany me, please."

Ten minutes later he was sitting in the back of her limo. The engine was running, and the interior was very warm. But they had not gone anywhere. She had dismissed her driver, and had just sat in the back, using her phone to talk to someone in Japanese. He was puzzled to say the least. Someone had captured him, and was now taking her time in doing whatever she had plans for doing with him.

Finally her conversation came to an end. Snapping the phone shut, she turned her eyes on this scientist that everyone had been searching for.

"I will try not to say anything cliché and melodramatic," she told him. "My name is Oroku Karai. My 'organization' was recruited to search for you. Another group, run by my- 'brother', if you will-" Baker noticed the sneering tone at those words, as well as her quick return to a more professional one- "had also been asked to look for you. He has been doing so for many, many months. My operatives as well as his also tell me that we are not the only ones; that your former 'employer', or at least his organization, is still after you as well."

Baker didn't reply. How could he? His head was spinning just a bit at these events as well as perhaps the loss of blood. The wound on his arm was deep and had bled freely, but now it had slowed to a stop. Yet it burned like fire. He worried about infection, and wondered in the back of his mind when he'd last had a tetanus shot. He just kept looking at this woman who had introduced herself as Oroku Karai, wondering what martial arts movie she had escaped from, and tried to figure out her game.

Karai continued to study him as well. He was understandably nervous. What was so special about this man's knowledge that someone like Hun would not only be hired to find him, but would also want him for his own purposes?

"I am informed that you were part of Agent Bishop's genetic research team."

"Yes," he finally spoke. "For what it was worth, I was."

"Why did you- quit?"

He shrugged.

"You have to be devoid of all human emotions to continue in the type of research that Bishop was engaged in," he said bitterly. "I discovered after a while that I had not rid myself of those emotions, I had merely suppressed them."

"Would this have to do with experimentations on people?" she asked directly. "Or did you rediscover your 'humanity' before it got that far?"

He studied her face. Calm, detached, almost cold- the expression on such a lovely face seemed to enhance her beauty rather than detract from it.

"Why should I explain my reasons to you? Or are you in search of your own humanity?" he responded, still looking at her as if she were a test subject.

Karai quickly drew a hand back to hit this insolent person- his eyes widened; he steeled himself for the blow. But she regained control of her emotions, and refrained from striking him.

"I wish to know why there is so much interest in the likes of you," her voice was forceful, but calm despite her still seething anger. "I do not wish to turn you over to those who may use you and your knowledge in a way that will be to MY detriment."

"Then let me go! I do not have anything that can benefit you or anyone else! I do not wish to work for anyone in this capacity any longer! I wish to be left in peace!"

"Unfortunately, letting you go is not simple. You will return with me to my headquarters. You will be my 'guest', and under my protection, until it is decided what will be of benefit to me and my organization."

She turned to roll down the window, to communicate with her driver.

Baker, taking a chance, made a break for it.

Distracted, her guard down, she was caught by surprise as he desperately kicked her, then got the door open and bolted from the car, headed God knows where.

"Kuso!" she swore, uninjured but angry at herself for being so careless. "After him!"

There was technically no reason for her to give that command. As soon as he had broke from the limo they knew he was to be captured. He may have had a surprise head start, but he could not escape them. This would not take long.

Running as fast as he could, slipping and sliding in the slushy remains of the snow that still lingered here and there, he knew himself that he had no chance. But he had to try.

He had to try!

Two of the Foot were close behind him as he blindly made for a warehouse, any warehouse. If I can make it to those crates! If I can make it to those crates! he kept thinking, though why he couldn't say.

They were upon him in no time, grabbing him and punching him into submission. His body, shocked by the sudden attack and the beating and the icy coldness of the snow and slush and pavement, soon grew numb with coming unconsciousness. He struggled to keep from sinking into that blackness, afraid that Death awaited him in there.

Yes, this would not take long. The two Foot ninja were ruthless in their beating of this man. How dare he treat their mistress with such disrespect!

"Dude, that is so not cool," a strangely familiar voice sounded just behind them. Before either could respond, the sickening crunch of a chuk hitting a skull sounded twice in quick succession, and the two Foot were lying on top of the injured Baker.

His arm was bleeding again, and now he was stunned by the blows to the head. His vision was out of focus, but as dark as it was, it didn't matter; he had no ability at the moment to fight as the two bodies were roughly pulled off of him, then a strong hand on either side of him grabbed his upper arms and dragged him through the slush and filthy snow, taking him further into the shadows of some large crates stacked haphazardly near a building. There they propped him up against what felt like the wall, but he wasn't sure.

"Donatello, go to your brothers!" a voice commanded. "Michelangelo- do not let anyone get this far!"

"Hai, Sensei!"

He heard the noise of people moving away from him, but he could not move from this spot. He had no idea who had grabbed him now, but at the moment he was in no shape to escape. He worked hard to open his eyes, to clear his vision.

"The Turtles!" someone shouted faintly, and then Baker was treated to a battle royal. Propped up against a wall, between some large crates, he could see more of these ninja- and two of those Turtles!

"C'mon!" one said to the other. "We can't let Raph and Leo have all the fun!"

"I don't intend to," the other responded- Baker saw him holding a long pole or stick or something, pointing it back towards him. "But YOU have guard duty! Later, little bro!"

"HEY! NO FAIR!" the one left behind shouted- and then he was jumped by one of the Ninja.

"Yes! Action!" the Turtle shouted, and Baker's ever clearing vision watched in disbelief as this brief, violent battle took place before him. The Turtle was wielding what Baker recognized from movies as nunchukas, and wielding them with such speed and accuracy that his opponent, similarly armed, was decidedly dealt with in no time.

Something wet splattered on Baker's face; not a lot, not big drops- was it raining? There wasn't much light, but as he rubbed a hand against this moisture that had hit him, he somehow knew that it was blood. And not his blood.

"Well done, but you need to work on your control just a bit," the voice said from somewhere above him. He had not spoken loudly, but the Turtle had heard the comment.

"Sorry, Sensei- got a bit carried away," he apologized- then he was set upon by a few more, and the battle was begun again.

Meanwhile...

Leo was paying back old scores. He had launched himself into a small group of Foot, trying to make his way to the limo. With deadly precision, he demonstrated to himself that his recovery from the battle with Bishop was pretty much complete!

Before they could properly respond, Leo had either killed or seriously wounded five, leaving five more to deal with. His swords shimmered and flashed in the pale glow of a street light, moving as if they were being handled by a warrior of old!

Block- swish/slash CLANG- slash slash slash- metal on metal, metal on flesh, metal on bone- blood spurting in many little fountains of crimson, cries and curses and threats and shouts in Japanese and English by all concerned.

Leo spun, swung, blocked, slashed, swung, spun, kicked, blocked, stabbed, and blocked again. He moved with an ease more in keeping with doing katas in the dojo than fighting to the death. Soon he was the only one standing. The remaining Foot had fled.

He saw her, standing there, swords ready, her eyes on him reflecting unbelievable hatred- and glowing admiration.

All that stands between us is her father.

Leo made to attack- and was immediately cut off from her by another group of Foot. And as he fought, he caught glimpses of her, watching and waiting- waiting for me to fail? To die?

Donatello was getting a good workout. He hadn't had such fun in a while.

"Hmmm... You guys haven't been getting in enough practice, have you?" he asked, as he quickly handled his fair share of Foot then ran to join Leo. "Must be the cold weather, these guys are a lot easier to whup than they used to be."

"If they're so easy, then what kept you?" his brother asked, sensing Donnie at his back.

"I was just admiring your skills," Don, cracking two skulls with a sweet little flourish of his Bo staff, replied. "It's the first fight I've seen you in in months."

Raph finished yet another Foot. He'd soon lost count of the number of those he'd defeated, but that didn't matter. He was feeling no pain.

God, he had missed this!

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he surveyed the scene. Many Foot lying dead or wounded on the ground. Many more waiting in the wings for their turn to kill or be killed. Somehow, to Raph, they seemed less than eager to engage in combat.

Must be my imagination, but they certainly ain't as tough as they used to be.

Leo and Don were taking care of a large group that seemed to be shrinking by the minute. Mikey, doing guard duty, was having a bit of a workout himself, but nothing he couldn't handle.

And then he spotted Karai.

She was standing there, summoning more soldiers, looking increasingly angry at her men's inability to defeat such a small number, barking out commands and curses alternately in Japanese and English.

Raph spotted Karai standing there, watching the humiliation of her Foot, and his smile was bigger than it was last Christmas.

"Karai!" he bellowed. The woman turned swiftly, scanning the area- her eyes landed on him; even from where he was, in the gloom of the night, he could see the hatred burning in her eyes. He grinned even wider, stepping out into the open, taunting her.

"Karai!" he yelled again, with a laugh in his voice as he beckoned to her. "Kocha koi!"

Her breath hissed in sharply, her head snapped back, as if she'd been slapped hard! Something inside her broke, and all she could see was a chance to begin avenging her father!

With a battle cry, she launched herself at her enemy, and was met with the full force of a Turtle looking to settle some old scores himself.

He had the upper hand; she, in her white-hot anger, in consequence of her enforced months behind the "corporate" desk, made beginner mistake after beginner mistake- which only set her off more!

"Kisama!" she spat, as he easily blocked her katana, spinning her nearly off balance with the quick movement of his sai. Metal clashed against metal.

"What's the matter, sweetie?'' Raph taunted, as she failed again and again to connect with a killing blow- he was deflecting her attacks easily. "Kinda out of practice, eh? Just like your pathetic ninja."

With a sudden spin he landed a powerful kick right to her midsection, nearly doubling her over even as it sent her flying back a few feet; landing hard on her rear, she was unable to move for a few seconds. He had knocked the wind out of her, and she was vulnerable.

He leapt at her, both sai ready to finish what the Utroms on that fateful day had prevented from happening, but he was intercepted by her most loyal assistant, the tall bald man, who defended his mistress with great skill. Raph lost one sai, but also managed to disarm his opponent.

While Raph was engaged, her driver moved in quickly and assisted the injured Karai back to the limo.

"Ninja! Vanish!" she managed to draw enough breath to shout, and at the sound of her voice, the Foot ceased the battle and fled into the shadows, scattering like roaches when the light is suddenly turned on. Even their dead and wounded were gone, spirited away as if by magic.

"Awwwww!" Mikey complained, 'chuks swinging dejectedly in his hands, dripping blood on the trampled slush. "Just when it was getting good, too!"

"You sound more and more like Raph every day," Don commented, wiping down his Bo staff with a scrap of cloth he carried for just such a reason. "Damn! That one guy's head put a crack in my baby! Doesn't he know how hard I work to keep this thing in excellent condition?"

Leo, breathing hard, stared at the retreating lights of the limo; then he turned to join his brothers who were now grouped around the frightened man shivering on the ground.

Baker's vision had finally cleared. What he couldn't see he could hear, and during it all, a voice from somewhere above had made comment after comment, as if making notes for a future lecture- the calm, judgmental tone had sounded like a discord note to the symphony of battle.

Now he was being stared at by the four victors. The one with the swords was closest, staring him in the eyes, sizing him up, deciding if he were friend or foe.

He stared back at Leo, clutching his left arm to his chest with his right, cradling it like a child. His shirt front, soaked in places with blood, was beginning to freeze in the harsh weather.

Somehow, the eyes of this creature seemed more threatening than the eyes of Oroku Karai.

"Y-y-you're one of... of the turtle specimens," he needlessly chattered, eyes never leaving Leo's.

Leo's look registered shock, then grim anger.

"Specimens? Specimens?" he growled, stepping towards the terrified scientist. "Oh, yes! I remember you! You're one of those 'researchers' who like taking animals apart to see what makes them tick- even if they can TALK INTELLIGENTLY!"

BISHOP! The laugh- the laugh and the sarcasm and the arrogance and the almost ghoulish delight in tormenting someone helpless- he was standing over Mikey- he was going to dissect Mikey, Bishop was going to dissect Mikey!

"LEONARDO!"

The sharp command of Splinter cut through the red rage that had consumed Leo; as if suddenly waking from a dream, he realized that he was standing over this- this MAN- and Splinter was between the two of them, blocking the katana strike with his walking stick!

The terrified man on the ground was sure he was dead. Then the owner of the voice he'd been hearing was suddenly between him and the blade of this Turtle.

From nowhere, it seemed, Splinter had appeared- had appeared to defend this man from his son- no, to defend his son- to defend his son from committing blind rage murder.

"Leonardo! Rokuni!" Splinter commanded again.

Leo looked into the eyes of his master. He could see his own face reflected in them- and he didn't recognize himself for the moment. Such anger! Such anger!

As if he had no energy left, his arm fell to his side; he nearly let go of his katana, but managed to hold on. Then, with a deep, ragged sigh, he put it back in its sheathe, bowed to Splinter, and then retrieved its twin from the ground where it still lay, blood-covered and half-buried in the slush.

Splinter, certain that his son had regained his senses, turned and glared in turn at this person.

"You will come with us, Dr. Baker," he said, and there was no compassion in his voice. But there was control; control of his own hatred, his own anger, his own demons. "You will come with us before anyone else finds you. Raphael, we will blindfold him, and you will be responsible for his safety."

"Hai, Sensei," the turtle growled, knowing that if Splinter had not added that last part, the man would have had little chance of reaching the lair alive. He, too, remembered this man now- he, too, would have liked to attack.

But he would do as his Master commanded. He would keep this guy safe.

For now.