296Okay- I'm so far behind because I've blocked on this- so I am forcing this chapter- I just need to get stuff moving! Please forgive how little action there is, but it is coming! Also, I do NOT know if Chaplin has a first name. They only used his character last season, and he was only called Dr. Chaplin (unlike Stockman, whose name Baxter is well-known). So I have created one for the purposes of this chapter. Everyone except my own creations are the property of Mirage and 4Kids, and hopefully they are not in the mood to attack with ninja-lawyers...
Collecting
When Stan Chaplin graduated MIT, he was sure that there was something awaiting him that would be more exciting than the usual humdrum boring old jobs one found with the Government or so-called "research" facilities.
Cure for cancer? Bah! Gas-efficient transportation? Screw the environment, what had it ever done for him? Weapons technology? No government wanted anything new and cutting-edge. NASA? Pulleeeeze! Those losers?
Now, if he had the backing, he could set up like his "hero", Baxter Stockman, and create a lot of stuff- just enough dreck to finance his bigger projects, whatever they might be. But that was the problem- backing.
Then the invasion happened, and all that wonderful otherworldly stuff started finding its way to him- he remembered with a tear his first close-up glimpse of a Triceraton blaster! True, he'd nearly killed himself and several bystanders when he had tried to fire it (at the Triceratons- hey! Everyone else was doing it!), but it had been FREAKIN' FANTASTIC! All that POWER! The technology! The sheer WONDER of it all!
And just as the invasion had finally halted or stopped (who cared why? Look at all the shiny new toys that they left behind!), miracle of miracles, he had been recruited by Oroku Enterprises! He had heard about them (though not much- but they were "famous"), and he had seen the illustrious Oroku Saki on TV; the inventor/millionaire had wasted no time in contacting the Mayor about repairing the damage to New York once the Triceraton threat was past- but to be recruited by this same person's company!
He remembered it as if it were yesterday: he was scavenging through some of the wreckage of a Triceraton hover craft (along with others), dodging the authorities who for selfish reasons refused to allow the general public their Constitutional rights to freedom of exploration, when he had accidentally bumped into the largest man in the entire world!
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" he had exclaimed, getting up from the ground- the force of the collision had knocked Chaplin on his ass, but he acted as if he'd injured the other fellow. "I hope I didn't hurt you!"
Hun looked at this puny specimen in surprise- an experienced person at reading others, he was floored that this fellow was genuinely sincere- not scared because of his size, but actually concerned.
"No problem," Hun replied, helping Chaplin to recover what he had dropped- a goodly sized chunk of the control panel. "Strange souvenir," he added. He'd been watching the scavengers for some time, as per his Master's orders, and for some reason this particular one had attracted his attention. Hun could tell he was not just the typical looter.
"Souvenir? Bah! Losers all of them," he said without rancor, as he carefully dusted his prize off. "This is so exciting! Have you ever seen tech like this? HOW were they able to keep such heavy transport hovering without gigantic motors generating tons of energy? I mean, helicopters can hover and fly, but look at what it takes to keep them in the air! THESE Triceratons, however- I mean, what is the fuel source? Where are the engines? HOW were they able to effectively nullify the laws of gravity? I must find out..."
And he became lost in thought, wondering just how many things he could invent once he found out the secrets of the Triceratons.
And then for some reason he was giving Hun his phone number- something about a job, and shoot, what the hell? Money is money- and then he found out just what kind of job- HOLY COW! It was as if he had died and gone to Heaven!
And the most amazing thing- BAXTER STOCKMAN was the lead scientist!
"Cool! A brain in a jar!" he had exclaimed, then apologized as the "brain in a jar" proceeded to put him in his place.
This was great! Soon he was put to work, and it was a dream come true! His day was divided between assigned projects and his own experiments. The large guy had told him that their Master (odd, that, but what the heck? Saying "Master Saki" was just as easy as saying "Professor" or "Doctor") was very interested in his ideas regarding the antigravity aspects of the Triceratons, and Chaplin was free to access whatever they had already salvaged in order to pursue that avenue.
Of course, Oroku Saki DID expect that any useful inventions coming from the research would be his sole property, but Chaplin would be well-rewarded as well as given all due credit.
It had been such a good life...
Chaplin sighed as he waited for Mistress Karai to enter his lab. Things had not changed much, but he regretted that his boss had been banished to some far-off frozen wasteland for lots of murders and other things. It had been so freakin' cool, finding out that this powerful man Oroku Saki was really some squishy little alien with tentacles! Chaplin had gotten to do so much, including helping to successfully build a spacecraft to help the Big Guy get back to where he was going. Too bad that stupid Agent Bishop and those annoying Turtles had messed stuff up!
And the most shattering of blows- his beloved idol, Baxter Stockman, had sold them out!
Thinking back on that time, as he awaited Karai's arrival, he recalled their trip to Beijing to retrieve the antigravity device that was keeping the city floating miles above the Earth. Somehow he had been accidentally left behind to die- but luckily, he and Karai had survived, and with Mr. Saki's vast connections had soon found himself back home again- much to the dismay of Baxter Stockman.
"You know, I think Dr. Stockman isn't happy to see us alive," he had confided to Karai, after their teleconference. "I wonder why? I would have thought he'd be glad."
Karai had made some noncommittal response; now that he considered it, it occurred to him that it had been no accident, that Stockman had meant to kill him! And Karai had known it- yet she had not told him.
"Oh, well, water under the bridge!" he shrugged, shifting some items around on his work table so he could sit more comfortably.
Now he worked for Karai, and though it wasn't the same as Oroku Saki, it had NOT been boring! And this latest project promised to be KILLER!
Literally!
Leatherhead was keeping a tight rein on his emotions. He had accepted this man's apology, had even forgiven him. But Leatherhead sometimes still had nightmares of that time.
Only Splinter and Honeycutt knew of these. Though they were less frequent than in the beginning, occasionally they would crop back up.
Splinter had helped him, over the long months, to master these dreams, to recognize them for what they were and to "control" them, and he was forever grateful to the Rat for this valuable ability. It had helped immensely.
He had not had an incident like that first one, where he attacked Michelangelo and almost killed him, still caught up in his hideous nightmare.
But this man's necessary presence was affecting him. He knew it was all in his head, but that was the problem- making sure it didn't come out. Leatherhead did not enjoy being deemed a monster.
The weather was still cold, but there had been no more snow for a while. Leatherhead was meeting with Michelangelo by the river. Splinter had asked their friend to see if he could help convince the young turtle that he must do this memorial service as soon as possible.
Splinter was concerned with his son's obsession that this new, unknown man who seemingly controlled the rats was in fact Victor. Dr. Baker had done his best to dissuade the Turtle, but Michelangelo could be quite stubborn.
"Did you ever see the Slayer?" he had finally challenged the doctor, and the poor man squirmed.
"No, I only saw the clones. I left long before he activated the Slayer. But even though the fellow I found was one of Bishop's clones, that does not mean he was this Victor! You have no idea just how many of those 'creatures' he had- row upon row of his own clones- literally hundreds! "
"Tell me about it," Raph had muttered, shivering at the memory of being momentarily caught under one of those fallen containers.
Though Michelangelo appeared to have accepted the words of the scientist, Splinter could tell that he was not really convinced.
"We must do the memorial," Splinter had insisted to his friend. "I fear that he will make some fatal mistake if he continues to believe this man is Victor."
"Are you sure it is not Victor?" he had replied. Splinter considered the question for a few minutes.
"I cannot say with certainty. I just- I just do not feel that this is the - the 'man' my son befriended," he finally had replied.
And so Leatherhead waited near the opening by the river, gazing out at the clear night sky, longing for warm weather when he might go for a moonlit swim in the river- maybe even get as far as the ocean for a few hours; find a nice sandy shore where he could sit unseen and watch the stars, and maybe catch a fish or two. He hated to admit it, but sometimes he still enjoyed a bit of fresh raw fish- really fresh, not the sashimi that his friends had introduced him to.
Sometimes he felt rather barbaric, catching and killing and consuming some creature just going about its business. But then the inner voice would remind him that he was a crocodile, in spite of his mutation, that he had to eat, and that he was no different from the human fishermen who lined the shores, pulling the creatures of the deep from their homes with hooks firmly imbedded in their mouths.
"Hey, L.H.! How's it look out there?" the voice of his cheerful young friend penetrated his musings, and he smiled before he even turned to greet Michelangelo.
"It is a beautiful night," he returned. "Not much activity outside, but very cold none the less," the Crocodile returned, absently slipping on his huge gloves and pulling up his hood.
Mikey, similarly protected from the elements as well as prying eyes, carefully stuck his head out and scanned the area. It appeared deserted, but he could take no chances. The Foot had been here a while ago, and their leader, while out of practice, was not stupid. Everyone expected that once the weather improved Karai and her duly chastised group would be back, if not for Baker at least for revenge.
"Let's go this way," he said finally, indicating a way to the left that was heavily sheltered with overhanging buildings and much abandoned junk lying around, most of it still covered in the now hardened remainder of snow from the blizzard.
"How have you been keeping, my friend?"
Mikey smirked as he walked along the moonlit riverbank with.
"I've been okay," he responded. "Kept out of trouble since getting out of being grounded. Poor Leo- at least his punishment wasn't increased, but he's still under house arrest." He eyed the crocodile with a sideways glance. "So, how long before you try to convince me that the guy I saw isn't Victor?"
Leatherhead drew a deep breath of the biting cold air. Fortunately, there was no wind, so it wasn't so bad- but it did bring the tears to his eyes as it were, and burned and stung his sinus cavities even as he reveled in the amalgam of scents in the air.
"Ah, fish, and diesel, and a hint of the ocean," he said in response, taking another deep breath. "Some sewage, but not much. I can still smell the snow as well." Then he looked directly at his young friend.
"I do not know what to say, Michelangelo. I, too, do not believe that this person is whom you believe it is. I, too, feel that you really need to go forth with the memorial service- it is time to let Victor's ghost rest."
Mikey didn't respond, and there was no sound for a while except the occasional crunch of some wayward icy snow under their careful feet.
"I sincerely believe that you want this to be true," he continued, choosing his words carefully. "It weighs heavily on your mind, does it not, his tragic end?"
"We should have been able to help him!" Mike let slip, with much more force and volume than he had planned on. He got himself under control, looking around. He was confident that they could not be seen, but still, he was Ninja enough to be on the alert. "We should have found a way to keep what happened from happening. And I think that he did survive..."
"How? Who removed the body?"
"I don't know! Some of Bishop's men-"
"Donatello and I made a clean sweep of the area," Leatherhead informed him. "The only stragglers we found were the ones who needed help themselves to escape. There was no one to remove the body."
"Then he regenerated and moved himself!"
They had come to a halt at the water's edge, and for a while the only sound was the lapping of the river against the shore, the occasional deep "call" of a tug boat to another in passing, and the very faint sounds of the city from a great distance. Somewhere in the night Mikey could hear the low note of a tanker's horn, sounding sad and mournful.
"I know," he replied to his friend's silence. "He couldn't. I know what dead bodies look like. I've seen enough; killed enough beings to know the signs. The smell, the sound, the look- I know. The body grows cold so fast. So very cold."
Then he swallowed hard, and made eye contact with his large friend.
"But when I saw this guy- I just- I just got this feeling that it was Victor! Somehow he'd escaped! Somehow he'd found his way out!"
"Did he recognize you? Respond to you?"
Mikey broke the gaze, his eyes blurred for the moment by many emotions. He fixed his stare on his feet- he'd not worn boots tonight, and they were getting cold. And they were getting rather dirty, despite the winter weather. Splinter would not be happy for him to traipse all that back into the Lair.
"No," he finally managed to answer, small and childlike in its tone. "I mean, he seemed to act like- like he was confused- but-"
A sound, faint, almost undetectable to the normal persons, whispered through the air, putting both the Ninja and the Crocodile on guard. Both immediately faded into the shadows, on high alert. This was instinct; both knew the routine, both knew the consequences of being careless.
Above them, yet another abandoned warehouse, this one so close to the shore that access was easy- and dangerous. Both could see the dilapidated condition of the riverside entrance. But both were able to gain access with ease, and in no time they were in a secure position to scope out the street.
Soon the pair spotted movement that went with the sounds. Black shadows moved here and there- keeping to the dark, but still visible to those who had excellent night vision and Donatello's special goggles. Mikey had wasted no time in yanking his from his belt and slipping them on, and it wasn't long before he spotted Foot- many Foot.
They were stealthily making their way towards the large pipe that Mikey and Leatherhead had recently exited.
"Damn damn damn!" Mikey barely whispered, getting out his shell-cell and dialing even as he cursed. Three rings got him Don. "We got trouble!"
He wasted no time in describing the trouble.
Don wasted no time in questions.
"Got it. Be ready for a game of Hide and Seek," was his response, after a brief pause while he had addressed Splinter.
Mikey hung up and shed his winter coverings, all the time keeping his eyes on the ever-growing crowd.
"Karai," Leatherhead spotted the woman before Mikey did.
Indeed, Karai was there, full battle gear- and with her was that weasilly little scientist- umm... Chapman? Champline? Chaplin! Yes, Chaplin!
"It's all ready, Mistress Karai," his eager schoolboy voice cut through the still night air clearly, earning him a hissing admonishment from the woman to lower his voice. Mikey strained to listen- belatedly he wish he'd thought to bring the listening thingie that Don had built.
Fortunately, Chaplin was not able to keep his voice low for long.
"Now, the only thing is, I can't tell the exact location, but it's gotta be somewhere within this radius," he was saying, pointing to something on a glowing screen held in his hand. The shape of the device was like a large handgun- but even from this distance Mikey could see the various controls- Donnie is so gonna love getting his hands on that!
"And, taking into account that they wouldn't be under the river, I'm sure that we can find a trace of them," he concluded. "All we gotta do is look for security systems. When we find those, we've found them! I can plug into them easily-"
Once again he was shushed.
Mikey made yet another quick call, and told his brother what the scientist was bragging about.
"Yeah, I'd LIKE to see that redheaded dweeb crack MY system!"
Leatherhead, hearing Don's derisive snort sound through Mikey's phone, smiled a toothy grin at his friend's reaction.
Mikey, hanging up again after a few more instructions from his brainy brother, motioned to the Crocodile to follow him away from the ever-growing crowd of enemies.
"We gotta make sure they do not find home," he needlessly said, getting ready to enter the sewers through another pipe that would allow the Crocodile access to the systems. "We're gonna lead them away. If you wait long enough, you should be able to make it home-"
"Please, my friend! I would not dream of allowing you to do this without my help! I know the systems as well as you," he smiled, placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "Just make sure Honeycutt knows to keep himself and Baker in hiding."
"You got it, Big Guy!"
"Will you be joining us?"
Karai wrinkled her nose, then regained her composure. She looked at the Ninja chosen to lead the search- Miyake- and kept her gaze steady and cold.
"When you have something worth my presence, I will join you!"
The appointed leader, chastised for the moment, immediately bowed deeply to his mistress.
"I meant no disrespect, Mistress!"
I am certain that you did, my friend.
Miyake was one of the few left from Shredder's rule of the Foot- too arrogant for her to trust, too valuable for her to lose. He knew just how far he dare go- for the moment- but she was going to have to do something definite about his attitude- and soon!
"When you have found them, notify me," she finished, turning her shapely back on this underling and returning to her well-hidden limo.
He noticed that she had not added the usual words of "do not fail me".
He suspected that she might be hoping that he would. He was careful to keep the contempt from his face; too many of her most loyal Ninja were in his command, and they would not hesitate to curry favor with the Mistress by removing him.
"Move out!" he ordered, and the group entered the system, prepared to locate the missing scientist, the Turtles, and anyone else that might make their Mistress pleased.