"Sodium pentothal." Donatello held up a vial that was filled with the liquid he'd drained from one of the syringes.

"Huh?" Raphael frowned.

"Truth serum."

Leonardo glanced at the vial, then returned his attention to polishing his katana. It was still covered in blood from their rendezvous earlier that morning. "So they planned to drug us to extract information?"

"That's my guess." Donatello shrugged. "Though, as most people realize, truth serum is actually used as a sedative. Sedatives are used for relaxation. If anything, the drug only works because of its soothing properties. It gets people to open up, to talk about things they might not normally admit to. It's a mental game more than anything. Convince your suspect that the drug really will make them tell the truth, and it usually does."

"Do you think..." Michaelangelo asked reluctantly. "they might have used that on Holly?"

Splinter looked concerned. "Yes, I fear that is the case, Michaelangelo."

"Yeah." Leo agreed. "They knew our location, and seemed to be prepared for our strengths and weaknesses."

"They knew we're ninja." Raph broke in. "Holly must have told them all about us."

"It wasn't her fault though." said Mike.

"No." Splinter agreed. "She would not betray our trust in her easily. I am sure it was an effect of the injections. I fear for her safety more than ever now. Her captors did not get what they hoped for."

It hurt so badly she could hardly lift her head anymore. She was weakened by the painful numbness that traveled down her spine and flared beneath the abrasive metal shackles around her wrists. Her head throbbed something fierce. It was getting so it was hard to even breathe. She suspected Curtis had cracked a rib or two. Every intake of breath was like liquid fire. Her throat was dry, and she coughed hoarsely, her lungs igniting in flame.

Would the pain ever end?

Worse than that, though...far worse, was the mental anguish she was now facing. She'd told them too much. She'd put her friend's lives in danger. She knew these guys. They would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. They'd already proven that several times over. She closed her eyes as Curtis came near, determined not to give him the upper hand over her, even though they both knew that he'd won.

He stood on the other side of the bars, taunting her unmercifully. He held an enormous club sandwich, dripping with turkey, ham, cheese and mayonnaise. He waved it in front of her, trying to tempt her with the smell, then took a big bite, bits of bread falling from his mouth and clinging to his shirt.

"Mmmmm..." He closed his eyes, being overly dramatic. "This is sooo good!" He took another large, sloppy bite, a blob of mayonnaise hanging from the corner of his mouth.

He's so disgusting...

She tried not to look at him, tried to will the smell of the food from her mind, but it was too enticing. Her stomach hurt from hunger. She could feel herself growing weaker with every minute that passed. They weren't feeding her enough. She figured it was on purpose. They wanted her to die a slow agonizing death. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten anything substantial.

"Bet you'd like a bite of this, huh?" Curtis enticed. "Not until I get a taste of something I've been craving..."

She glared up at him, the look in her eyes like death itself. "Go to hell." She said weakly.

He lowered the sandwich and glared at her. "You think I feel threatened by that?" He moved toward her, his face pressed up against the bars, just inches from hers. "Well, let me tell you something. I will have my way...with or without your cooperation."

Time passed slowly--way too slowly for Splinter's liking. He knew that every minute wasted was more time that Holly was suffering. He couldn't help but wonder what they were doing to her at this very moment. Was she being tortured? Beaten? They had to get to her. And quickly. But he also realized that if they left unprepared, they might as well not even attempt to rescue her at all. The men they were dealing with had proven themselves much more dangerous than he or the turtles had ever imagined. He suspected that Holly knew this, and that's why she'd left. She knew that if any of them were to be captured, their chances of survival were almost nil.

His mind drifted back to his time in the lab--the way they'd taunted him, put him through agonizingly torturous experiments. He thought about Holly. Again, he saw the tears of sympathy she'd shed when she realized what they'd been doing to him all along. Agony filled him as he remembered the way Curtis had cornered her in the elevator--what he'd almost done to her. His blood began to boil. It sickened him to know that there were people capable of such horrifying acts. Worse yet, he was so far away from her now. For all he knew, she was dying somewhere, probably raped and beaten beyond comprehension.

He felt sorrow wash over him. Somehow he was blaming himself for this. He knew it was pointless to lay accusation, but he couldn't shake the idea that if she'd never come to his rescue, she'd be alive and well right now, oblivious to his pain and anguish. He himself might be dead, but at least she wouldn't be suffering. Still, he had to remind himself of an old belief he'd been drilling into her since the beginning--everything happens for a reason. Right now, he just wished he could understand what that reason was.

Some of their attackers had escaped. They were probably on their way back to their base this very moment, which meant that by the time he and the turtles found this new lab, it might already be too late. Worse yet, Buster was nowhere to be found. He suspected they'd taken him. Why, he could only guess. It was mental anguish to know where she was, yet to be unable to get to her. Time was not on their side at the moment. It seemed as though everything was left in the hands of their enemies. The best he could hope for was that she was still alive. When he closed his eyes, he could barely feel her anymore. He had begun to fear the worst.

Leonardo approached him slowly and stood by his side without a word.

Splinter knew why he was here. He appreciated Leo's silent respect for his feelings. He didn't care much for the idea of conversation just now.

Finally, though, Leo spoke. His voice was soft and filled with concern. "Master, we're about ready." He said gently. "We could really use your wisdom to help form a strategic plan."

"Yes, Leonardo." Splinter sighed softly. He knew this was going to be an agonizing journey. He didn't want to plan...he didn't want to think at all. He only wanted to get to her. Yet, through the haze in his mind, he knew that he had to maintain reason. Holly's life was at stake, and unless they did everything just right, he might lose her forever.

She felt defeated. She might as well give up and face facts--she was going to die. She knew it just from the pain that racked her body. It wasn't normal to be sweating like she was. She felt like throwing up. Oddly enough, something about the thought of death comforted her. She welcomed it now. Maybe it was the idea that Curtis couldn't hurt her anymore, or maybe that this excruciating pain would finally cease. She'd give anything for a moment's comfort again.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she found herself thinking more and more about Splinter. He'd scared her at first, and with good reason. But he'd saved her life, and because of that, she'd gotten to know him. She'd come to understand what a good person he really was. And then, their friendship had developed into more. Maybe that was the real reason she'd run away. She was afraid of getting hurt again. She was frightened at the thought of losing something so very important. But she'd never meant to hurt him. And now, she wasn't even sure if he was still alive. God, what had she done? It was all so wrong. She knew that now.

She could only imagine what he must have been feeling. She'd tried several times to contact him mentally, but it was no use. She had no skill in meditation. Even if she had, the effects of the drug were making her mind, as well as her body, slow and sluggish. She could hardly remember her own name at times.

Somewhere, in the distant corner of consciousness, she heard a sound. It was so faint at first, she couldn't tell where it was coming from or what it was. But as she concentrated, the noise grew louder. A bark. She opened her eyes and turned her head wearily to peer into the darkness. More barking. Her head pounded as she began to come to her senses.

"Thought you'd like to see an old friend, Holly." Larry's voice echoed from the shadows. She strained her eyes, trying to see in the dim light.

"Buster...?"

"That's right." He stepped into the small flood of light by her cage, gripping Buster by the collar.

But how--

"You should be proud of him." He smiled contemptibly. "He led us straight to them, like a good dog. You are a good dog, aren't you?" He leaned over to pet Buster under the chin.

"Let him go!" She shouted as loud as her weakened state would allow.

"Oh, no...I don't think that's a very good idea." His grip on the collar tightened. "However...I'm not totally inhumane. Perhaps..." He flipped a switch on the wall, and a panel in the ceiling lit up, revealing a metal table several feet away. "...I should put him out of his misery...?"

"No!" she gasped in fright. My dog...no...please, God!

"Hmmm..." He looked at her as if contemplating. "Very well. Perhaps you're not as big of an animal lover as I thought. I would think you'd want his death to be quick and painless. Now, it's going to have to be done the hard way."

Again, she called Buster's name, tugging on the shackles as hard as she could, trying to reach for the bars.

"Hmmm..." He paused again. "Just for the sake of fairness...let's make a deal. You tell us what we want to know, and I'll spare his life. Refuse, and he dies a slow, painful death."

"Okay, here's the plan." Leo calmly laid the map across the table and pointed to an area not far from Northampton. "We leave out as soon as it's dark, and head south into town. From there, we'll follow this freeway..." His finger trailed up the map. "...north into New York. Blue Mountain Lake is up here."

"This is gonna take forever!" Raphael complained.

"Yeah, I know." Leo sighed. "At least four and a half hours by car, and by foot..."

"Maybe we can hitch a ride along the way." Don offered.

Splinter nodded. "That would be the most efficient means of transportation, however, we must be very careful." He gave off the air of calm and control, but inside, he was a burning fire, anxiously awaiting the opportunity to reduce Curtis's world to ashes.

"Yes, master Splinter," Leo retorted. "Which is why we'll wait until nightfall. Our chances are greater of finding a ride without being seen."

"And in the meantime?" Raphael was growing almost as impatient as Splinter.

"We gather necessities, form a plan of attack."

"I say we march in there and kick some butt!" Casey stood, fist held high.

"Ummm..." about that, Casey..." Leo said apprehensively.

"No, don't tell me you wanna do this alone. You saw what those guys are capable of. You need me!"

"But April and Shadow need you as well." Splinter spoke softly.

Casey glanced at April, noticed the look of dread in her eyes. She'd been through this one too many times--getting left behind, worrying about the safety of her friends, wondering if her husband would make it home alive.

"But--"

"Think about it, Casey." Mike broke in. "What if they send more? What if they hurt Shadow...?"

The thought of his daughter or April being harmed brought him back to his senses. Slowly, his hardened, determined expression softened, and he gave in. He glanced at April again, knowing he'd been defeated. "Okay, you're right. I'll stay here. But if anything happens--"

"Don't worry." Don gestured toward the cell phone April insisted they take along. "We'll contact you."

Now she knew. And she didn't want to know. The truth cut through her like a poison-tipped knife.

They made it to the farmhouse...

"They're dead." Larry was saying. The words echoed in the small space, painfully lingering at the back of her mind. "All of them."

She lowered her eyes, not willing to look at them any longer. They'd killed her friends! They killed Splinter! No, it wasn't true. She couldn't believe that. The turtles were stronger than that. They would have fought back. She knew they could win. Unless...they were severely outnumbered. Or...what if something she'd told her captors provided them with the key to their weakness? She dreaded the thought.

"Don't worry." Jim's voice was low, almost as if he was attempting to soothe her. "They didn't suffer."

"Much." Curtis added with an evil grin.

That did it.

Holly exploded, her voice straining with an unearthly cry of rage. She kicked her feet, hitting Jim in the throat. He stumbled back, gripping his neck and gasping for air. Larry and Curtis each grabbed one of her arms, pulling her back painfully.

"Hold her down!" Larry commanded. He held up a needle.

No...not another injection!

She fought against them, tugging on her binds as hard as she could. But she was simply too drained, and the shackles were too strong.

She felt the needle stab into her. She gasped for breath as the liquid flowed into her veins, hotter than before. The world spun dizzily. She tried to scream, but her voice wouldn't allow it. She saw their blurred forms huddled around her, and then...blackness.

Not much time has passed, yet it feels like an eternity. The sun set an hour ago, and only now are we finally approaching the outskirts of a small town. There are people about--those who would not understand our appearance, and so, we must wait in hiding, all the while knowing that we might already be too late.

I can not help but think of Holly. The image of her refuses to leave my mind. So weak is the connection now, that I fear she will surely die before we have the opportunity to save her. I feel the very fabric of my heart ripping as I stand here. Suddenly, I feel as though a tremendous weight has been placed on my shoulders--an overwhelming burden, which refuses to be lifted. A lump forms in my throat, and grief overcomes me. I do not know what exactly is happening. I can not explain my emotions any longer. I have never experienced such a lack of control. It is foreign to me--frightening, and yet I know that it is the greatest feeling I have ever felt. All I know now is that my love for her has not dwindled. She may have left, but that no longer matters. All I care about is getting her out of that place. The rest we can work out later.

Finally, the last of the humans walk into the bar. I sigh in relief and glance toward my sons. Leonardo flashes me a weak smile and nods toward the deserted pickup truck. Perhaps luck has finally smiled upon us.

Raphael is the first to climb into the truck's bed. He offers me a hand and pulls me up. There is only a small blanket in the back for shelter, but it will have to do. Fortunately for us, the cover of night will shadow our forms. Now, if only those men will hurry with their drinks. We are running out of time.