Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 4:

The hatch opened. Jeremy's eyes, pierced by the sharp sunlight directly overhead, squeezed tightly until tears gathered in the small folds on each side. Jeremy had been in the darkness of the Manhattan sewer system for two days now. The smell of the city smog was pungent, as Jeremy had spent the earlier part of the week inhaling herbs and incense that did all but disguise the foulness of the sewer.

Jeremy crept up the grate ladder. He emerged in the same alley that had been his last surface dwelling. The walls of the surrounding buildings were black -- stained with mildew and acid rain. The sky was bright, but Jeremy knew not to trust it. The early fall months played the dirtiest tricks weatherwise. It was bright alright, but gray clouds covered every inch of sky; rain was definite. He replaced the grate on the storm drain and walked down the alley alone.

Jeremy was not alone, however. As he turned the corner and headed north toward Hannah Street, Jeremy felt the presence of others. Sure the sidewalk was crowded, the cars on the street met bumper to bumper, but there was a pair of watching eyes. Of course, not just one, but four.

As Jeremy continued onto the path toward the WTRL Building, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michaelangelo kept pace along the neighborhood rooftops. Little was said, but much was conversed. Leonardo kept lead as Raphael took watch of the surroundings. His eyes searched for anyone who may just happen to be on the roofs. It was definitely possible that people could be out on these rooftops. Be it rebellious teens passing a joint, a pair of lovebirds smooching in privacy, or the stockbroker in 7B who had just had enough of his life in hell and decided to end it all; it was best to stay out of sight of anyone. They always took risks like this when traveling up above, but the Turtles had to keep constant vigil on Jeremy. Raphael glanced around the eighth story surface, gave Leonardo the okay to proceed and followed alongside his brothers. Michaelangelo ran more swiftly than he had in months. He had been training harder recently, and finally had a good chance to show off his physical growth to his brothers. The others had too much to think about to notice Mikey's increase in stamina. However, Leo did take notice that he was more alert than Donatello had been.

Donatello was anguishing over the reunion of Jeremy and Jack. It had been over a decade since the two had seen one another. Only until the deaths of Jeremy's most beloved did Jack even offer Jeremy the time of day. He had refused to meet in public and was making no attempt to keep his son from living in the streets. What kind of father was he? To Donatello, this form of parental behavior was unfathomable.

The group slowed as per Leonardo's order. Donatello, being preoccupied with the Stoker family dillemma, was taken off guard. He ran a good distance ahead of the others before noticing what was going on.

"What happened, guys?" Donatello asked as he turned to face them.
"Are you okay, Don?" Leonardo questioned.
"What's up, guys?" parroted Raphael as he approached the group.
"I don't know," replied Donatello breathing heavily and turning his gaze upon Leonardo.
"Dude, where are you today?" Michaelangelo directed at Donatello.
Leonardo said, "Look, Don. I can see your preoccupied about this whole business. We can't function as a unit if part of the brain is disconnected."
"Look, I'm fine," replied Donatello. "We aren't suffering as a unit, Leo; I'm still here."

His gaze left Leonardo's as he walked to the edge of the roof. He looked down at Jeremy and saw him making his way through a heavy crowd of people. The team exchanged glances, then fixated upon Donatello.

He spoke: "How can a man be a man if he doesn't care for his son?" Profound words from Donatello. "Family has always been a priority to us. We are all we have. Our father loves us; his father has shown no affection for him! So yes, Leo, I am preoccupied with this whole business. But I don't mean for the unit to suffer." His right hand gently scratched his head then slid to the nape of his neck.

"Look, Donnie," Raphael said approaching his brother. "The way I see it, this guy's just another one of these tight-ass mothers, who are selfish: always wanting what's best for them -- not what's best for their kids."

"Jeremy is a 23 year-old man," Leonardo put in. "He has lived without a father for the majority of those years, and to Jack, he probably doesn't even take into consideration that Jeremy is his son. To him, Jeremy is a liability -- nothing more. But, Don, Jeremy needs us now. He trusts us to help him reach his father. We have already done a major part in actually locating Jeremy's father for him. We don't know exactly what's next, but right now we have to be here 100 per cent for Jeremy's sake."

"I hear ya, Leo," Don replied. He sighed, "Well, let's get going then." Leonardo nodded, Michaelangelo smiled, and Raphael slapped Donatello on the carapace as he returned to his position. With that, the team continued on to the Channel 6 News building.

Chapter 5:

Jeremy stepped up to the revolving doors of the television station high-rise. Through the front entrance was a small vestibule. On each wall was a map and fire escape route of the building. Jeremy headed in toward the lobby. The room was grand, crawling with people. In the center was a large water fountain with a bronzed globe of the earth. As he passed it, Jeremy's eye caught the sparkle of hundreds of dollars worth of pocket change, along with three or four large goldfish. He approached the receptionist desk.

The name plate read Irma Chapa: Receptionist. She was a small woman with a thin frame. Her hair was black and cut in a short bob. Her small nose held large, red plastic-framed glasses which appeared too big for her face. She was busy taking calls at the moment, motioning to Jeremy with her hands to wait a little while. Jeremy took off his coat, draped it over his right forearm, and put his hands into the pockets of his baggy slacks. At last Irma was off the phone.

She removed the headset, and gave Jeremy the once-over. She smiled and seductively said, "What can I do for you, ... young man?"
"I have an appointment with Ms. April O'Neil."
She stood up, and turned to face the wall behind her. There was a large group portrait of April O'Neil, May Williams, Malcom Davis, and June Potter -- "New York's Top Newscast."
"Girl, you always get the good ones, don't you!" Irma remarked to the poster board April. "Come on, I'll show you to her office."
"I'm sure I can find it if you tell me which floor," Jeremy said.
"I'd rather show you there myself, Mr. ...?"
"Stoker. Jeremy Stoker. But what about the front desk?"
"Oh, they'll never miss me!" Irma grabbed Jeremy's arm and put it around hers. Together they walked to the elevator.

Irma pushed the elevator button. "So, you're the one that's looking for his father, right?"
"How'd you know?" Jeremy asked with a perplexed look.
"I'm the receptionist, hon; I know everything that goes on in this building... including extracirricular agendas."

The elevator doors slid open, and several people emerged. One individual was smoking a cigarette.
"Hey, pal!" Irma exclaimed. "There ain't no smoking in this building!"
The two entered the elevator. Irma pushed the number 23 button, and the elevator started moving.

Jeremy saw the "23" light up and allowed the scent of burning tobacco envelop his mind. Irma's voice trailed off. The finger came off of the button.
"We are going to meet your sister," Jack Stoker informed little Jeremy. "She's your Momma's kid, son, and she's a few years older than you."
Jeremy looked up at his father just in time to see his face clouded by an exhalation of smoke.
"Don't say it like that, Jack," Jane sternly replied to Jack's comment. "You make it sound like you don't want to have any part in her life."
"Well, Jane, I don't. It's spimple as that. She ain't my kid; I don't see why I should have anything to do with her."
Another cloud of smoke flew high above little Jeremy's head.
"Look, Jack, her father is dead and I have to continue raising her. I am her mother. I should have never let her go in the first place."
"Yeah, b'cause Lord knows, I woulda never hooked up with youse if I knew you had baggage back then." He sighed, "God, I think I'm gonna be sick."
Little Jeremy spoke up, "It's just the evelator, Daddy." The doors slid open on the 23rd floor.

"So, anyway, Hon... Oh we're here. Come on let's see if we can find her in this mad house." Irma's voice brought Jeremy back to reality.

The 23rd floor was a mad house. People were rushing in every direction, papers were exchanging hands, and the volume of the voices was only topped by the incessant ringing of the multi-lined phones.
"Her office is this way, but I doubt she'll be in there. She's usually duking it out with Thompson or the village idiot Vernon Prindle... or Fenwick -- whichever is his "professional" name nowadays." As they approached the office, an auburn-haired woman clad in beige cargo pants and a white tank top streaked from across them. The woman entered April's office and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Irma," called out a thin man with an effeminate air about him. "Tell April I was serious about that deadline. Mr. Thompson made it perfectly clear that if she wasn't on time..."
"Oh, Vernon, shut up!" Irma shouted to the flustered man. "Come on, Hon, let's get in there before I lose my impeccable calm." She led Jeremy inside the corner office.

Inside April O'Neil's office, Irma introduced Jeremy Stoker. "April, Jeremy has come to ask for your help in finding his father. One of those turtle-boys called yesterday and told me to schedule him in for a 10 o'clock."
"Thanks, Irma," April replied. Turning to Jeremy, she said, "I have been so busy these days that the guys have had to schedule appointments just to see me." She giggled a little then continued, "Donatello e-mailed me last night updating me on the situation. I wish I could help you out more than just going with you to his house, but unfortunately my boss is on my case about this recent mafia crime wave we've been having."

"Well, thank you Ms. O'Neil for even taking a little time out of your busy schedule to help a stranger. And may I say that you do a wonderful job on the Happy Hour News?"

"Heh, thanks, Jeremy. But, you can call me April, and I am just doing my job. Let me get my jacket and we'll be on our way." She stood up and headed toward the coat rack.

Irma said, "Have fun you two. Jeremy, I hope you find what you're looking for." With that, the two were on their way out the office door.

"And, April," Irma said as Jeremy continued walking, "I saw him first!"

April and Jeremy walked through the parking garage. Jeremy couldn't believe this. Had he not already accepted the fact that mutant turtles walked the earth, he would think meeting April O'Neil was just another dream. She walked slightly ahead of him. He took in the sight. April O'Neil, a young news reporter of 28, had shoulder length wavy hair. Her skin was a warm pale pink and contrasted to the dreariness of the cold garage. The jacket covering her shoulders was short and matched the color of her cargo pants. Her body was perfectly shaped, connected to long thin legs. The shoes on her feet were black All-Star styled with thick soles.

"I happen to be very familiar with the area of Little Tokyo we are headed to," April began as they headed towards a silver Ford Expedition. Upon entering the vehicle she continued, "The neighborhood was the site of a major gang war between the Dog Star and Golden Triangle gangs. Both are now defunct, but the area is just as dangerous." Jeremy looked at her. "The Dog Star gang has been completely dominated by an Italian Mob Boss by the name of Don Turtelli. He's bought 'em out. Now, instead of popping people off for a measley pair of sneakers, Turtelli has the Dog Stars dealing heavy narcotics and automatic weapons."
Which brings him all the dough, huh," Jeremy continued. He shook his head in disgust and looked out the window. They were on their way to Little Tokyo.

April continued, "The Golden Triangles are not officially around anymore, but word on the street is that they are trying to get it back together. You see, they intend on being Turtelli's competitor. In Japan, if you wanted a hit of heroin, all you had to do was see your local Triangle. He could hook you up. Do you have any idea why your father would have moved to Little Tokyo in the first place, Jeremy?"
"To tell you the truth, I don't know much about my father at all. He was only around till I was ten. Before that, I can only remember bits and pieces of my life with him. He was a mean man. He was never mean to us -- his family, but he was bitter about something most of the time. I loved him with all my heart, but that's to be expected from a son, isn't it?"

The vehicle was quiet for a moment.

Jeremy continued, "So, I guess it's your job to dig up all the history on the stories your working on, huh."
"Well, yes. But, actually, I have had quite a few run-ins with the likes of each of these gangs. Most have been a bit too close for comfort, but I have met a few good friends: there's Chu Hsi and Fu Sheng. Ninjara. Oh and Oyuki Mashimi. She was my camera operator until she decided to open up a photography studio down on 43rd. We're still good friends."
"Is it also how you met the Turtles?"
"Well, sort of. But, I'll let them tell you about that another time. Would you, guys?"

Jeremy looked puzzled. Then the back seat of the SUV came to life.
"You've been here this whole, time?" Jeremy asked in astonishment.
"The whole time, bud," Michaelangelo replied. The team talked more about their adventures, how loyal they are to their friends, and how they would always protect Jeremy from danger. Jeremy felt right at home with the team as they drove down the busy streets and entered the Oriental realm of New York.

"Okay, guys," April said. "We're here."

Chapter 6

Leonardo fastened a strip of adhesive tape bonding a radio wire and Jeremy's bare skin. The wire led from his chest to a receiving box fastened in his back pocket. Michaelangelo added a mic and mini-cam to April's hand bag; and Donatello coordinated each radio wave to be intercepted by the equipment in the truck. The video feed went directly to April's iBook for conversion into desktop digital video.
April began, "From here on in, we will be recording every inch of every step we take."
Donatello continued, "We will have you under constant serveillance. Everything you say, hear, and see will be broadcast directly to this vehicle. It'll be like we're walking in to that building right along side you."
"Guys, I don't really understand why your going to such lengths for this... for me," Jeremy said. "I mean, this is the most help anyone has ever offered me. And although I really don't expect there to be much more to this adventure than a slam from the door, I do thank you all for everything."

"Hey, don't mention it, Jeremy," replied Leonardo. "We want to make sure that you and April are safe; this place isn't the safest to be, you know. Plus, this is an historic event..."
"Father and son, reunite," a grinning Michaelangelo put in.
"Besides," April interceded. "You never know when news is gonna happen!"

"Okay, it's showtime!" Raphael said glancing at the clock on the console. "Donatello will be monitoring you all on the radio, Mike will be watching the video feed, I'll be on the roof of the market across the street, and Leo..." Raphael turned to glance at his brother folding his arms. "Leo will be watching all of us with his grand observational qualities." The others snickered.
"I will be patiently waiting for your return," Leonardo put in on his behalf.

In the blink of an eye each of the turtles was on assignment. Now it was time to go ahead with the plan: have April as a human look out and gatekeeper, have wires strapped to his chest just in case an emergency should arise, knock on the door, and reunite with dad. Simple; very simple.

April and Jeremy stepped out onto the littered street. Jeremy looked up at the road sign: OYAMA. It was apparent that the "O" had been shot out by a bullet some time before, for the rust ate away at the circumfrence of the hole. They approached the door of the small shanty house.
"Shall I? Or would you rather?" April motioned toward the knocker on the hollow-core door. Jeremy approved, and April rapped on the door in three steady beats.

"Just a minute!" came a female voice from behind the door. "Who is it? Is it about Jack?" the voice continued.
"Um, ma'am? My name is April O'Neil, from Team 6 News? I think we better talk face to face."
The sounds of deadbolts and chain locks signaled to the two visitors that they were being welcomed. The door opened slightly.
"Please come in... hurry!" The woman pulled them in and looked around outside for a moment.

"Please, have a seat. I had no idea that the news was interested in my husband's case. I'll be happy to tell you all I know." The woman was thin and wispy haired. Her Asian eyes were darkened and bloodshot, no doubt by lack of sleep or recent difficulties. "Jack's been gone for so long now, the police are telling me to just give up."
"Mrs. Stoker --"
"Chien. I decided not to change my name after we were married."
"Right. You see, this is Jeremy --
"Oh, I'm sure you want to take some pictures or, um, video of the house, and of me. Let me show you around. Uh, Mr. Jeremy, where is you camera?"
"Actually, I --uh-- I, left it in the truck. I'll be right back... Excuse me."

Jeremy hurried toward the front door. He didn't know why he had to get out of the house, but he panicked. He exhaled a long sigh as he stepped out of the house, and headed back to the Expedition. As he stepped up to the passanger door, a loud screech of tires blared, and a maroon caddillac sped off into a neighboring alley. Soon, after the car disappeared, Raphael leaped from the roof of the market and rushed towards Jeremy.

"Hey, whoever was in that car had a gun pointed right at you, Jer," Raphael said. Donatello opened the door of the SUV and let them in.
"What's going on, guys?" Donatello asked.
"I had to stop those creeps from offin' our bud here. I lost a sai in the process, but the important thing is that this guy ain't laying in a pool of blood right now.

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all related characters ©2000 Mirage Studios

The characters Jeremy Stoker and Jackson Lee Stoker ©2000 Michael E. Perez

Any similarity between any characters, names, persons, and/or institutions in this story and any living, dead, or fictional characters, names, persons, and/or institutions is not intended, and if does exists, is purely coincidental.