Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 7:

The wispy haired woman handed Jeremy a cup of black coffee. "You know, I feel like I owe you an apology, Mister Jeremy. You see, this neighborhood is very dangerous right now. As I was telling Ms. O'Neil a minute ago, ever since this mobster came to Little Tokyo, it isn't safe to even go grocery shopping anymore ..." Her voice trailed off. Jeremy looked down at the cup of coffee as the aroma engraved its signature scent upon his nostrils. The coffee smelled good, but Jeremy couldn't bring himself to drink it. The cup called out to him just for one little sip.

"Please drink me," it seemed to say.

"Your life was spared for this one drink of coffee! Who knows, maybe destiny just wanted to give you the final opportunity to taste my bittersweet flavor."

Jeremy placed the cup on the square table in front of him. Particle board. The walls were thin, and the acoustic was falling off the ceiling. He began messing with the micro recorder that Donatello sent him back to the house with. Jeremy had told April and Chien of the incident, conveniently forgetting the intervention of the Turtles.

"We came here to discuss your husband, Chien." April spoke up as she put her hand on Jeremy's knee. He was brought back to reality. He loaded a micro tape and pressed the record button.

"Yes of course. Jack..." Chien lowered her eyes, clenched her fist, then brought it up towards her mouth. "Jack was taken by those very men. A few weeks ago the men in the maroon car came to take Jack with them. They said that Jack had incurred some debts with Mister Turtelli."
"Don Turtelli?" April inquired.

"Yes," Chien began weeping. Her head slumped, supported only by her clenched fist covering her eyes. "I believe he is dead," she continued. "They must have killed him. Don't you agree? Don't you agree Mister Jeremy? He is dead, and I can't do anything about it but wait. Wait for a body. Wait for a phone call from the police department. 'Come and identify the body!' I can already hear them saying this!" Chien was on the verge of becoming hysterical. She realized this and took a few deep breaths. After a long sigh, Chien was ready to continue.
April asked, "How are you sure it was those same men?"

"I know because one of the men is my son."

Jeremy's eyes widened, picked up the cup of coffee and took a long sip of the rich dark liquid.

"A long time ago, I had an affair with Don Turtelli's younger brother Billy. My son was taken from me, raised in the family. He was 23 last September. I never told Jack. He only knew that Khan was a punk from Turtelli's gang."

"Okay," April began. "What kind of debts did Jack have against Turtelli?"

"Jack is an inventor. He created science stuff that would be useful to the government. But Turtelli had him make high-tech weapons to smuggle around the world instead. As long as he made weapons for Turtelli, Jack could buy things necessary for his research. He was almost finished with his last project, but that is when Khan broke down the door to the lab and began taking everything. All of his experiments and all of him is gone. And I am all alone."

Jeremy finished the coffee.

"Good to the last drop."

As Jeremy and April exited the small house, April thanked the teary-eyed Chien for all the information she had given them. Jeremy was grateful to April for not telling Chien he was Jack's son. Of course, April had better tact than to spill the beans before the time was right. She knew Jeremy had to speak to Jack, and she certainly did not believe that he was dead. Jeremy didn't believe it either. After all, he had been contacted by his father not one week prior to this visit to his wife. She had told them that Jack had been missing for weeks.

April and Jeremy reentered the Ford Sport Utility vehicle. Don sat in the back seat just removing the head phones that connected to the audio surveillance machine, and Mike sat with the iBook on his lap next to Donatello. Together they watched the video feed from April's hidden cameras.

"You know, guys," Michaelangelo said. "I really think we could concentrate better in a familiar environment. As he spoke, Raphael entered the vehicle from the rear. "Oh yeah, Mikey?" he asked. "And where exactly is this more familiar environment?" Leonardo followed close behind Raphael. "I offer one guess," Leonardo added. In unison the Turtles agreed: "Vinnie's!"

April geared the truck back to Team 6 Headquarters. As they made their way passed the markets of Little Tokyo and Manhattan's skyscrapers, the team began to grow weary. The trip was long, and it was getting late. Raphael and Michaelangelo fell asleep in the cargo space of the truck, Leonardo's eyelids drifted downward as he meditated. Even Donatello, who had been poking away at the iBook's keyboard had finally decided to fold up the computer and sit back in his seat. He rubbed his eyes and cracked his joints, attempting comfort.

April's hands lay perfectly poised on the steering wheel, and her luminous eyes remained ever vigil upon the road before them. Dinner traffic was about, and the freeway was getting crowded. Nothing could break her concentration, and she continued driving.

Jeremy removed his gaze from the beautiful site at the driver's seat and shifted them toward the window to his right. He fixed his eyes upon the East River as the SUV ascended the crowded bridge. The sun had disappeared quite some time before, and now the sky began to fade into a dusty cerulean color. Jeremy watched as the lights of sailing boats popped up one by one.

Normal people, he thought. Normal people who don't know mutant turtles or television news reporters. Normal people with brothers ... sisters ... mothers ... fathers. His head thumped the glass of the window. He continued looking at the boats, and wondered just what was going on in the lives of those normal people.

A gush of current hit the hull of a large yacht sitting on the docks off the East River. Babs Turtelli hit her head on the porthole.

I thought you weren't supposed to feel these things, she thought as she rubbed her forehead. She continued gazing out to the crowded bridge, noticing the car headlights trailing across like a river of fireflies.

"I need a drink," she said to herself. Getting up from a leather couch, Babs walked over to the wet bar. She was a tall, leggy woman. She was no more than 22, but had the walk down pat. She was blonde, fair skinned and harbored deep hazel eyes. Her hair was up in a French twist, and she was dressed from head to toe in Versace. Babs picked up a bottle of gin, admired the crystal container -- precise etchings carved at least a century prior to this particular evening. She scanned the bar for a glass, but found none. Her patience wore thin.

The ornately detailed bottle flickered a radiant prism through its antique glass as it soared across the room. A million crystal gems splashed into the air as it came in contact with the wall.

Sink like the Titanic, damn you, SINK!

But, the wall of the yacht bore not even a scratch. Of course, these walls were galvanized, protected against anything -- an off-course boat, a coral reef, 500 rounds from an automatic weapon....

Babs reverted to the couch and buried her face in the skin-like cushion. She wept until the tears from streaked down from the couch onto the carpet.

Chapter 8

April pulled the SUV into the garage lot at WTRL. She and Jeremy stepped out of the truck, and gave their aching skeletons a good twisting.

"Come on, guys... Wake up, we're here!" She said sternly as she tapped on the windows of the back half of the truck. Each of the four turtles roused from their slumber.

Leonardo awoke on command; Michaelangelo took a little prodding and even earned a mask snap from his short-tempered brother Raphael. "Wake up, I said. Damn, you're the one who suggests Vinnie's and you don't even wanna get up!" At the mention of Vinnie's Michaelangelo was up and raring to go. He hopped out of the side passenger door and pulled over his dark trench coat.

April said, "I'll meet you all over there; I'm gonna go check in this equipment."
"Alrighty, Ape!" called Michaelangelo already halfway out of the garage.
"Did you need some help, April?" Jeremy inquired. "No, thanks, Jer. I've got it. Go ahead and follow the guys. Make sure they don't make scene." She continued as she walked toward the elevator, "You know how teenagers can be!"

At Vinnie's, Jeremy enjoyed a slice of pepperoni pie with the Turtles. He figured the reason that the Turtles enjoyed coming to this place so much was the lack of visitors. Considering the area of town it was in, the pizzeria had hardly any customers. If anything, there were a few orders for carry out, but for the most part, everything else was delivered. There was a small television mounted in the corner across from Jeremy's seat; the station was set to Channel 6. There, Malcolm Davis reported on the continuous rise in gang warfare and its connection to the high profile local family of Don Turtelli.

"You know, Jer," Donatello began. "I think the key to finding your father is finding this Chien guy." "Yeah," Michaelangelo added. "I mean this wacko has got to be screwed up in the head to be so rude and disrespect his own mom. And then working for Turtelli, too, damn!"

Jeremy took a swig of his MGD to wash down the last few particles of pepperoni left in his mouth. Then he put his palms over his eyes and rested his elbows on the edge of the table.

"You know," he replied. "I don't know why, but for some reason I know there is more to this whole thing than just what we found out today. I mean for one thing, I keep on thinking how different things would be if we had both been raised by my dad and his mom. We would have been stepbrothers."
"In actuality," Don put in. "You are stepbrothers. I don't know if you wanted to hear that right now, but it's true." Raphael shot him a sideways glance, "Donnie! Come on!" "No, it's okay," Jeremy assured. "I know this guy is my stepbrother, and even though we know almost nothing of each other's existence, I feel this connection to him." He looked back down to the edge of the table, noticing the chips in the Formica; he began picking at one jagged edge in particular.

"Okay," Leo spoke up. "What do we have on this guy so far? He's your father's wife's son, he's a nephew of Don Turtelli, he's roughly the same age as you are. Raph continued, "He's one mean mofo. He was the one who kidnapped your father, and..." Donatello concluded, "If my hunch is correct, he was the one who attempted that drive by earlier." Jeremy discontinued fondling the chipped Formica, and looked up to Donatello. His reaction was shared by the other three turtles. Mikey disrupted the silence, "Oh and he, uh, he's part Italian part Japanese?"

The others rolled their eyes and moaned. Jeremy took another sip of his beer.

Babs Turtelli awoke to the gentle hum of parental squabbling in the cabin adjacent to hers. She removed her mascara smeared face from the cushions of her leather couch. She got up and stumbled her way to the restroom where she found the vanity mirror. She was still feeling the effects of the gin she had downed a couple of hours before, and what she saw in the mirror was completely displeasing to her. So displeasing, in fact, that she began laughing hysterically. Through her hysterics, a rage grew as much as the shouting in the neighboring room. She pounded on the wall. "Shut the fuck up in there!" Despite her spout of rage, Babs continued the laughter.

She threw aside the mink coat that enveloped her, and tore off her blouse, succeeding also in setting free her long brown hair. After yanking off her shoes, Babs stripped down to her undergarments. By now the laughing had subsided, and there was nothing but a young, thin naked woman with a tear-streaked face staring blankly at the mirror in front of her.

How have I become this?

Babs left the bathroom, and went straight for the stereo system. She dug through the endless piles of CDs such as Brandy and Monica and Backstreet Boys. Feeling even more frustrated, she slammed the pile across the room. With the glow of everything that was holy above all angels and saints, one CD was left unscathed by her fury. She looked at it with wonder, and even a hint of relief. This is what she was looking for. Babs opened the CD drawer and popped in Depeche Mode: Songs of Faith and Devotion. The playback began almost immediately, and as the syncopated rhythms that were so ahead of their time blazed through the floating suite, an idea rushed into Babs' head.

She returned to her vanity and sat down. Continuously, she looked at her extremely disappointing face, opened the vanity drawer and pulled out a pair of hair clipping scissors. Within ten minutes, Babs had removed half of her long dark Italian locks. Her hair was uneven, but it pleased her. Next, she applied a facial mask which gave her the appeal of some green reptilian mutant. Babs laughed at the thought. She moved on to her perfectly sculptured nails and dipped them in a bowl of acetone. After about 45 minutes, Babs removed her hands form the bowl and completely removed the claws, dried them off, then painted the short nails a dark maroon. The mask was peeled off.

Babs gazed at her reflection, not so repulsed by what she saw. Digging through her tub of blushes, rouge, and fingernail polish, Babs quickly spotted what she needed. She applied a thin layer of liquid foundation, patted on some powder, then added a dusty rose color to her eyelids. She lined her eyes with black eye color, and added a sparkling mascara. She continued transforming her face until even she could no longer recognize herself.

"Baaaabbbbssssyyyy!" her mother's inebriated voice called from the next room. "You have a visitor! Get out here quick!"

Several minutes later, a very annoyed intolerant Babs Turtelli rushed out of her cabin. She has was dressed in red leather pants, and a black raglan cap-sleeved tee-shirt. Picking up her purse and jacket, Babs rushed toward the entrance of the lower deck.

In this room, Babs met her visitor -- and gave an annoyed sigh. "What the hell are you doing here?" "Good LORD! What the hell have you done to yourself?!" Babs' mother was incredulous.

The tall, young man gave a slight laugh as if expecting this remark. A black-haired, slender young man of 23, Chien was very handsome. He picked himself up from the leather couch beside Babs' mother and walked over toward her. "I just wanted to know if you were busy tonight."

Babs began searching frantically for her keys. "And by the look of things, you seem to need some company. By the way, I love the new look." He moved to embrace her thin frame in his arms and moved his mouth toward her neck. But just before he could steal a kiss, Babs pulled away. "I'm on my way out."
"Well..."
"And I don't need any company." Babs discovered the treasure she was searching for then headed up to the main deck of the yacht.

She emerged on the deck of The Mona Lisa, owned by none other than her father Don Turtelli. Chien surfaced just as Babs made her way to the dock beside the boat. He called out, "Come on! Yo, Babsy! I'll be waiting for you when you get back!" Babs climbed into her Jaguar and pointed the automobile toward Manhattan.

Donnie continued, "I'm not saying that he was the one there, Jeremy, but I have a feeling this guy has some power with Turtelli's thugs. So, he was probably the one who ordered those guys to check out any suspicious activity around Chien's house, hell even to shoot to kill." Raphael got up to get some parmesan cheese from the condiment counter.

"I got a pretty good look at those spunk-juicers, and I can tell you sure as my ass is green that those cronies were sent to do someone else's dirty work." He sat back down and began to pour the cheese onto his slice. The container's lid popped off and cheese puffed everywhere.
"Awww, shit!"
The others snickered, and Jeremy excused himself to the restroom. Standing in front of the urinal, Jeremy thought how cruel one must be to order someone's death, how cowardly they must be to not take responsibility of their actions, how it was just plain evil. He moved to the basin to wash his hands. As he lathered the soap between his fingers, Jeremy looked up at the dingy mirror hanging on the wall. The water poured over his hands, and Jeremy just gazed at the mirror.

You stupid bitch... how could you not want a face like this?!

Chien was in hot pursuit of Babs Turtelli's car. He kept looking at his face in the vanity mirror mounted on his sun-visor. When he returned his eyes to the road, Babs' dark blue Jaguar had vanished from site.

Shit!

Babs swerved the car into an underground parking lot and tried like hell to find a spot to park fast. She spotted a handicapped parking slot, and raced to it. After parking, she dug through the glove compartment and pulled out a blue slip to hang over her rear view mirror.

Always be prepared for a situation.

She headed up to street level and found the nearest club. She needed a drink.

Chapter 9:

Dumb broad... I know your around here somewhere.

Chien had parked his car and was now treading the crowded sidewalk of Hannah Street. He noticed the large corperate high-rises that sat on the north side of the street, while on the south side lay many singles clubs and restaurants. Chien crossed to the south side of the street and decided to cruise the strip.

Babs stepped off of the 700 block of Market Street, crossed Third Street and stepped onto the next heavily crowded block. She heard the loud bass pounding coming from the club on the corner. She stared up at the bright neon sign that glowed "Manhattan Lounge." The crowd was thick and growing with every claustrophobic gasp. Between the dazzling bodies of vinyl, glitter, and body art, Babs saw a sign resting at the entrance of the club: Activate Fridays - a techno happy hour with resident DJs Kylen, Brian Cox & Chameleon. She recognized the ultra bass riffs of Seven Ways, and decided that would be a good place to stop.

There was no true line to get in the club... more of a mob that just grooved from the oustide in. Babs - in her newborn rebellion - stuck out like a sore thumb. She attempted to nonchalantly stroll into the club, but the bouncer stopped her at the entrance.

"I need your ID!"
"What?!" Babs shouted over the blaring music.
"Let me see your ID, or get outta here!"


After Babs had retrieved her driver's license, she pushed her way through the heap of writhing bodies.

As she entered the club, darkness took over. The only lights came off of the dance floor -- dancing strobes that kept in time with the beats of the high intensity electronica. She made her way to the bar, ordered a drink, and decided it was time to loosen up.


She had been at the club for over an hour, and was loving every minute. She was on the dance floor dancing wildly to the rhythm of the Chemical Brothers... She was definitely under the influence.

Two young men danced around her. She could feel their bodies' heat, their pulses pounding. Their hands reached out and caressed her body. Her world was spinning; she loved it. The two men had kept her on the dance floor. If she had needed another drink, one of them would be more than happy to get it for her.

She knew what was going on. She knew that with each drink a new drug entered her system. She didn't care. Tonight wasn't about caring. It was about fun. She wanted to do whatever those two men wanted to do with her.

A dark figure entered the club.

She felt his eyes.

He's here... but where?

She stopped dancing, looked out to the rest of the club, and quickly looked the other way. The music continued.

"What's wrong, baby?" asked one of her suitors.
"Nothing, I'm fine." But she wasn't. She had seen him.
"You look a bit out of it," the other said as he pressed up against her body. He whispered into her ear, "You think you need to go some place more quiet?" Babs pushed a chunk of hair behind her ear and looked up at the handsome face above her. She turned to the other man as they both came in a little closer. Filter's "Take a Picture" was blaring through the amps. The song's modified electronic waves gave her back the energy she had before she had seen Chien. She began moving again. This time she writhed in time with one of the suitor's bodies. She caressed his skin and unfastened the buttons on his shirt. The other man came up close behind her and grabbed her hips. He moved his face into her neck and began kissing. She opened her eyes and saw Chien coming toward her.

"Let's go." she whispered.

"Let's go!" Raph threatened. He and Michaelangelo were in the midst of a deep sparring workout. Leonardo was teamed with Donatello, katana against staff.

"Where do ya wanna go, buddy, cuz I can take you anytime and anywhere!" Michaelangelo thrust forward in a combination attack. He whirled his nunchuku as he slid across the floor, and swiped out Raph's feet from under him. As he fell forward, Mike thrust four jabs into his brother's plastron, then punched hard with a high uppercut. Raphael fell backwards... hard.

The strategy earned an applause from the master Splinter. "Your attack is keen, Michaelangelo. You have improved since your last session. I feel a shame of sorts in admitting that your new video game has heightened your level of creativity in battle."

"Heh, heh. Thanks Master Splinter." He brushed off his shoulders, wiped his feet on the mat, and walked out of the rec room as Raphael was getting up off the floor.

Splinter lay down his cane and retrieved his tally book from his kimono. "Raphael, I am afraid you will receive demerits for you poor defense skills. It is a lesson that I taught you months ago, yet you still leave yourself open to attack. Kitchen duty for a week."

Raphael adjusted his mask, put both sai in one hand, then slammed them down on the weapons table. He mumbled about something then walked over to the punching bag to relieve some stress.

Splinter went to join Michaelangelo in the kitchen and Donatello and Leonardo continued their sparring.

Jeremy entered the room.

"Hey, Jeremy." Donatello said through his bo defense strategy.

"Hey, Don." He marveled at the weaponry that was laid out before him.

Donatello looked up at Leonardo, still blocking each of his attacks. Leo noticed that Donatello was looking at him and slowed down a bit.

Donatello said under his breath, "This guy has got to have something better to do than hang out with a bunch of mutants on a Friday night."
"Well, Don, I don't know what else there is for him to do." The two discontinued their sparring and approached Jeremy.

"Where did you all get these weapons? They look brand new."
"Well, they are. It's amazing what you find in the aftermath of a fire. Most people write off smoke damaged inventory as a loss and just junk it. This stuff was from a martial arts store that was toasted in the Golden Triangle/Foot Clan gang wars several months ago."
"We were just around to play buzzard," added Leonardo. "Listen, Jeremy, I know our daily routine must a little boring to you..."

Jeremy interrupted. "No, no. You guys are amazing. Just look at what you all have done. You have taken other people's garbage and junk and used it to your advantage."

"Well, thanks, Jeremy. What I am saying is that just because you are our guest, that doesn't mean that you absolutely have to be under our constant supervision." Leonardo sat down on the weight bench, and Donatello spoke up. "Yeah, there are plenty of other things that I guy like you would prefer doing besides hanging out with a bunch of kids like us."

Jeremy's eyes turned toward the ground. He was beginning to remember how he used to go skateboarding with his sister every evening after work. He thought back to his senior year in high school when he would go out with friends and hit a local party or rave. Somehow those days had disappeared. Jeremy's youth was disappearing fast.

Donatello sensed his anguish. "Look, Jer, you don't have to be rich to have fun around this town. Hell, you don't even have to live on street level." His eyes flashed toward Leonardo then back to Jeremy. "Hey, I got an idea. Come with me." As Donatello put away his bo, Raphael stopped his exercise. He walked over to Leonardo unwrapping the tape from his hands.

"Aw, man. Is he taking him where I think he is?" In response, Leonardo folded his arms, nodded and smiled. "Hey, Mikey!" Raphael called. "We're going on a run; let's go!"


The five were out of the main den in a matter of seconds. As they neared another tunnel, Jeremy saw a familiar object. Each turtle grabbed his own, and Donatello handed Jeremy "the spare."

"Can you handle yourself on one of these things, guy?" Michaelangelo asked.
"Heh. Yeah, I think I can manage." Jeremy answered.


He dropped the deck to the cement pipe and mounted it. He pushed himself forward and began to gain speed, stopped quick, and did a 180 to return back to the four teens. "So, guys, where we headed?"

With that, the five guys were on their way. They sped down the sewer tunnels, up and down, through every curve and corner. The familiarity of skating brought a smile to Jeremy's face. He enjoyed the wind in his face as they raced through the subterrainian labyrinth. Suddenly, the four turtle in front of him disappeared -- dropped down into the darkness. He had hardly any time to think, and soon he felt his own body drop.

"What goes down, must come back up!" Mikey called as Jeremy descended the ramp at the end of the tunnel. Each turtle was already at the opposite end of the ramp, flying high in the air. Mikey just had to do a kickflip as he flew graciously.

As Jeremy ascended, he rested the underside of the tail end of his board on the lip of the ramp. The team continued down the ramp, which spiraled down to a levy. They continued south bound for about five minutes, until they came upon an old warehouse near the harbor.

"Okay, Jer. Check this out," Donatello said as they dismounted their boards. He pushed some tall grass that had grown through the pavement away from a chain link fence. Jeremy marvelled at what he saw. The wall of the warehouse had collapsed, but just aside from the rubble were four swimming pools. Each of the in-ground pools had a unique shape and various depths. But best of all, they were empty -- any skateboarder's paradise. Immediately, they jumped the fence and approached the basins. "Why are these here?" Jeremy asked in amazement. Dontello explained that the building used to be a showroom for a swimming pool manufacturer, which ironically had been damaged so severely when the floodgates of the neighboring river had broken. "Several people drowned when the flod waters filled the pools and washed the people in as well. No one realized that even though the water hadn't flooded most of the building, the pools had still filled up, and the employees had all sunk to the bottom. We discovered this place a few months ago when the foundation under that wall carroded so much that it collapsed."

Leonardo added, "We were close by and heard the crash. Naturally, we had to investigate."

Jeremy felt haunted by the grim legacy this desolate warehouse held. Raphael broke into his consciousness when he roughly said, "Yeah, yeah. Fascinatin', guys. Are we gonna have a quiz on Monday over our history lesson?" He snickered, mounted his board and sped off toward the lip of a pool. With that, they all proceeded to launch at the empty bowls.


Babs awoke to the sound of sirens coming from the outside street below. She sat up in the bed, and looked at the clock on the stand.

3:46 a.m. Do you know where your children are? Do you care?

She rubbed her eyes and got out of the bed. She was only wearing her panties and bra. She looked toward the bed and both of her suiters from the Manhattan Lounge slept peacefully. Both were nude, only one was partially covered by the blankets.

Must have been really wild.

She put on her clothes and made her way down the stairs of the musty old building.

Who the hell lives in a shithole like this, anyway?

There she was, a 22 year old woman who had probably just shared her body and the most mind-blowing drugs and alchohol you could imagine with two complete strangers. She didn't remember details, but she did remember being desperate to get away from him... from them.

She sat for a while on the front stoop of the dilapidated building. She didn't know where she was, but by the smell of mildew in the air, she figured it was close to the East River. She just needed to get to a dock and then she would head on home. By now her parents were surely passed out, and she just really wanted to take a shower and sleep in her cmfortable bed. She stepped onto the deserted pavement and walked eastward.


Jeremy and the Turtles enjoyed their outing. They had skated to their hearts' content, but it was getting late. To pumped to go home, they decided to sit back and enjoy the night air. Mike and Raph horsed around for a while, until one of Raph's remarks upset him. Raph laughed about it as Mikey sulked in silence.

"Thanks for bringing me out here tonight, guys," Jeremy was truly feeling that he was part of something again. He hadn't felt like that in a long time. He had friends.

"Don't mention it, Jer." Leo said. "We all need to unwind once in a while. We all love to skateboard, and from your moves out there, I guess you do too."

Jeremy smiled. "Well, I have been skateboarding since around the time you guys were born. So, I think it is safe to say I love it." The four turtles were taken by surprise as they realized this guy was five years older than them, and yet he seemed so much like one of them. They were relieved. They had made a friend.

Leo had gotten up and was brushing off his knees when he spotted something. "Hey, guys, check this out!" They all got up and followed Leo over to a small cubicle building in a dark corner of the warehouse. In that small shed, was a flooded pool. One wall was made up of two doors that led out onto the river itself. So this wasn't a pool, but a small boat house. There was a light deep below the surface. Intrigued, the turtles and Jeremy forced open the jammed door.

"Woo, I see dead people!" Mikey exclaimed wiggling his fingers in the air.
"Oh, brother." They all moaned and Raph slapped him against the back of his head.

Raphael removed his mask, elbow and knee pads, and wrist bands. "Well, guys. I feel like going for a swim. If any of you'se care to join me, I'll be with the fishies." With that, Raph dove into the dark water. Leonardo and Michaelangelo follwed suit. "Whaddaya say, Jer? You up to it?" Donatello asked him. He nodded and pulled off his sweater. Mike and Leo dove into the water, and after Jeremy had stripped to his drawers, he and Don did the same.

At first, the water wa a shock. The temperature was definitely cold. But, it was welcome by Jeremy. He remembered the good ol' days of the high school swim team and all of the early morning swims at school. He knew he was physically capable of handling the temperature of the water, breath management, and the strain it put on his heart.

Besides, I have enough scar tissue there to keep my heart from shattering altogether.

He was right. He followed the turtles like a fellow reptile. He followed them down into the coves of the river. They passed through tunnels that were lined with track lighting. Soon, they reached a cavern -- a man-made trove. It was an enormous warehouse, more like a stock yard.



Babs stood at the end of the pier. There were no boats docked, and all of the buildings around seemed deserted. Not just 4 a.m. desertion, but like condemned desertion. Each of the buildings were dilapidated, one building had an entire wall collapsed. She began to feel a fear. A fear of bums, street urchins, and gangs who could kill her and steal her money. She reached into her bag, but her wireless was missing.

Shit!

She thought of running to the nearest payphone. She could call a cab to take her to her car. There was one at the building with a collapsed wall. She hurried across the pier over the warehouse. The phone booth was covered in dust, and unfortunately the receiver was yanked from the cord. It was her kind of luck.

Just then, a car's headlights appeared behind her. She turned in surprise and backed up against the wall. She squinted in the brightness of the lights and put her hand to her brow. Chien stepped out of the car. He approached Babs slowly.

"Chien, God damn you!" She shouted as she threw down her arms.
"Look, babe, I just wanted to know you were okay."
Babs continued cussing under her breath, and began to walk off toward the street again.
"Where ya goin'?!" he called. "I wanted you to see somethin'!"
"I don't want anything to do with you anymore, Chien! I don't want to see whatever you want to show me!" She walked further. "Not even... them?" Chien pulled out the two guys Babs had left the club with. They were both tied to each other, and were still naked. They shrieked in muffled horror through the gags in their mouths. Both were beaten badly.

Babs was speechless and stopped dead in her tracks.
"Come on, babe. I thought we had somethin' goin' here!"
She ran back to the car.
"I told you to stay out of my life, Chien. I told you that I didn't want to see your face around me anymore. And what the hell are you doing?!" She looked at the two scared men tied to each other. "What the hell did you do to these guys? She started to loosen the knots on the ropes around their wrists.
"Them?" Chien attacked. "These two fuckers!" He shoved them to the ground. "These two assholes are gonna pay for what they did to you. He picked up the rope that bound the two men together and dragged them down the hard concrete of the street to the splintered wood of the pier. Both men struggled in pain.

"What are you doing? Chien, what are you DOING!" She screamed as he lifted both men over the edge of the pier. A fishing pole mount on the pier's edge served as a hanger to rest the rope. Both horrified men hung by the rope that held them, looking down to a dark, watery grave. They struggled to free themselves as Chien laughed at the sight.
"You're a fucking monster, Chien. A monster! I can't believe what you are doing." She stood wiping her tear-stricken face. "You can't believe it?" Chien asked incredulously. "You can't believe that I could do something like this?" He sputterd a laugh. "Come off it sister, your daddy is no better than this. He's the one who taught me how to do this. Your daddy, my daddy, and all of their brothers have been doing this for years. For generations!"

The rope chafed against the pole mount. Each thread snapped one by one, and the two men gazed up terrified as the last one broke. They hung in mid air for nanoseconds, then crashed down to the water far below. Their bodies freed from each other, but their wrists and ankles were still tied. Chien laughed in delight. They hit with a blow that knocked them both unconscious. They would drown in a few minutes.



The turtles and Jeremy knew what was being packaged in those crates. It was obvious this was Mafia territory. Narcotics, contraband, weapons, it was all here. They couldn't make trouble here now, not without a plan, not when they weren't physically up to it. They dove back into the water, swam back through the tunnel. The scenery was looking a bit unfamiliar, and Jeremy could feel his lack of breath increasing. They had taken a wrong turn. The turtles knew they had to get out quickly. The followed a tunnel with colder water knowing that they would surface in the river itself. Soon, they were in a vast area. They had made it. Donatello directed Jeremy to a pillar from the pier above as Jeremy rose to the surface quickly. He held onto the pillar and gasped as the oxygen entered his lungs. The turtles were still under water, and Jeremy understood why. He heard a commotion from the pier. There was a fight above -- a man and a woman. He stayed shivering in the cold shadows of the pier, and gazed up at the two people squabbling.

"Get you hands off of me!" Babs shouted as Chien tried to massage her shoulders.
"Look, those two pieces of faggot shit are better of sleeping with the fishes. You know how I found them after you left their place? They were having way to much fun in that bed of theirs."
"What gives you the right to pry into my life at all?"
"Your father, Babs. Your father gave me the right. He told me himself to look after you. He brushed his hand against her flushed cheek. Let's get home, Babs. It's really late, and I'm spent." He yawned and stretched, cracking his joints in the process. He opened the door of his car for her, and she hesitantly stepped in. They drove off.

Jeremy shook the cold from his body, and noticed the turtles appearing from the darkness. "Hey, bud," called Mike. "Looks like we just discovered a couple of sunken pirates." Leonardo and Raphael emerged from the water, each carrynig a motionless body. They climbed up to the street level and raced to the warehouse. Raph and Leo laid down the two men on the warehouse floor. As they dashed out of sight, Jeremy sat beside their cold bodies. He had to revive them soon; they were beginning to turn blue. He slapped their faces. "Come on, wake up." They began shaking in a fit against the temperature of their bodies. One started to cough, then the other began to wheeze. They were both awake and shivered to no end. "Your gonna be alright. Just lay there for a while." Jeremy ran to get his coat. He draped it over both of their bodies. Soon, the blood started warming up, and the color returned to their flesh.

"Who did this to you?" asked Jeremy as he returned with his clothes in tow. "Some aa-asshole who was pissed that we partied with his ch-chick," one of the men replied through a hypothermic stutter. "The other spoke up. "I heard the chick c-call him Ch-chien."

Chien.

Jeremy's eyes became distant. And in a blur of confusion, he began thinking to himself.

Could it have been the same guy?

He sounded like he worked for the mob by the way talked.

Was it just a coincidence?

Then he clearly realized the truth of the matter.

I was so close, and I let him slip away.

A single tear rolled down his face. "Are you okay, man? What did we say?" Jeremy wiped his face. "Nothin', man. It's okay. Here you can take my pants, and you can take my coat. Get yourselves cleaned up and just stay out of the way of that guy; He thinks your dead, anyway." Jeremy pulled on his sweater and sneakers.

"Yeah, which means we better stay outta the way of that chick too."
"Yeah, the daughter of a mob boss... trouble's probably never far behind!"

So, this "Babs" was the daughter of a mob boss. There was know doubt in his mind that this was the Chien he was looking for. The mob boss was more than likely Don Turtelli, and one of his chief men was Chien -- The key to finding his father.

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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.