And I find myself here again. The building
loomed up before me, huge and intimidating. The sky shone purple,
pink and gold in the dusk. I glanced over at my friends. They
stood, like me, gazing at the Facility. After a moment, Leonardo
gave a signal and Donatello silently moved forward to take point.
I fell in behind him, Raphael after me. I kept my fear suppressed
with anger; Thoughts of Jackson and what he did to us. We continued
noiselessly to the side of the building. I caught sight of the pond
were it all started nine years ago. I was so young, just a kid.
We all stopped near the wall and glanced around.
I told them that the room I had trained in had a skylight. Leo decided
that it would be the best penetration point. I knew no one else used
the room, and that it was not monitored by cameras, so we definitely wouldn’t
be seen right away. Don tossed his grappling hook up and over, yanked
the rope several times, then started up. Mike used a small tool to
unlock and pry open the skylight. Leo poked his head in, scanning
the room. After a moment he stood and nodded to Don; the hook attached
to the sill with a faint *Clink*. This time Raph went first, alone.
He dropped the last few feet, landing without a sound. I watched
his tense form as he surveyed the scene. His slight relaxation said
it was all clear. I threw my leg over the edge, got a good grip,
and started down the rope. I felt Raphael’s hands on my waist as
I reached to bottom. Releasing the rope, I let him lower me to the
floor, then turned to him and smiled. Don came next, then Mike, and
finally Leo.
I looked around, a loneliness for Tachi rising
in me. Leo’s hand on my shoulder brought me back to the task at hand.
I took point, leading them through the compound. Most of the guards
would be at dinner, so they posed little threat. Not that I was concerned.
Most of the guards were lazy and out of shape. They were not allowed
to carry guns; most only had clubs, but a few had begun to carry tazers,
since they, generally, didn’t kill. I was sure that any of them would
run at the sight of US coming, though.
The room we enter from was ground floor, so
I lead them to the stairs. We could easily climb to the fourth floor,
where the offices and monitoring rooms were, since the stairwells had no
cameras--the elevators did. Once to the top, I pointed Don toward
the end of the hall to the security station, where all of the cameras and
alarms were controlled. He and Mike slipped in; there was a brief
and muffled struggle. After a few moments, Mikey shot a thumbs-ups
, signaling Don had figured out how to shut it all down. Now we were
free to go into any room without fear of being taped.
Leonardo, Raphael and I approached Zachary’s
door. I held up my hand, then peered in through the glass window
on the door. I could see the Doc’s slightly balding head and the
back of his wheeled chair. He appeared to be looking out the window.
The knob turned silently in my hand, the well-maintained hinges did not
make a sound. I reached over and flicked the light switch to an off
position. The room was dark except for the last few moments of daylight
that shone in through the window, and the light from the hallway behind
me. Zachary spun around in his chair, but froze at the sight before
him.
“Give it to me.” I kept my voice low,
my blade in a relaxed, but ready position.
“M-Mona Lisa?” Zachary gaped. “My God,
I thought you were gone! Escaped!”
“Give it to me.” I repeated, more deliberately.
“What? What are you talking about?”
My stare bore down on him as I raised my sword
a little higher, the sign for Leo and Raph to appear. “You KNOW what
I’m talking about. Don’t make me tell you again.”
Zachary’s jaw dropped at the sight of the
Turtles’ silhouette. “What the hell. . .? Mona Lisa, what’s
going on? I--”
Swiftly, I leapt to the top of his desk, grabbed
his shirt and brought his face near mine, “I don’t want to kill you, but
I will if I have to. Wendy’s wand. Give it to me!” I
brought my blade to his throat, “Now.”
Zachary’s eyes were huge with fear.
He was so close I could see the sweat glisten on his brow. He tried
to regain his composure, “I don’t know w-what you’re talking about.”
“Oh?” With a flick of my wrist, my sword
grazed the left side of his neck, creating a small, stinging cut.
Zachary cried out in pain and surprise. “Tell me,” I growled.
“I-I don’t remember.” His voice trembled.
Raph and Leo had approached and were standing behind me, no doubt looking
mean and intimidating.
“’Don’t remember’? Well, let me refresh
you.” I landed another cut just under the first one. Zachary screamed
again, and began blubbering that he was sorry and didn’t want to die.
I shook my head, “Don’t humiliate yourself like this, Doc. Just tell
me where it is.”
Zachary’s face was slick with sweat and tears.
Two trails of blood trickled down his neck, staining his stiff white collar
pink. He peered at my face, looked at the Turtles behind me, then
lowered his eyes to the floor, “Top drawer of my desk,” he muttered.
Giving the Doctor a good shove back into his
chair, I climbed down as the guys came around to loom over him. “These
guys are going to make sure you don’t try and stop me from doing what I’m
gonna do here. Don’t worry, some one will find you eventually.”
Leo and Raph pulled out rope and duct tape.
“Just hold still, Doc.” Leo began wrapping the rope around Zachary’s
middle and the chair.
Zachary looked up at them with huge eyes,
“Who are you?”
Raphael pulled a length of duct tape out with
a ripping sound, drawing Zachary’s attention. “Just some guys helping
out a fellow mutant.” He stared at him as Raph pressed the tape across
Doc’s mouth.
While the guys took care of Zachary, I pulled
open the top drawer and looked inside. Shining a dim, dark blue,
the wand barely glowed. I hoped it still shone at all because Wendy
still lived. I grasped the handle and held it up. Almost immediately,
the crystal shimmered and turned deep red; the brightness intensified as
I peered into the stone. “She knows I’m here!” I whispered to Raph
who was standing beside me, gazing at the wand. I slipped my sword
into it’s place on my belt and grabbed the shaft with both hands.
“I’m coming, Wendy.”
Glancing back at Zachary, I noted the Turtles
did a good job. Bound to his chair, which was tethered to the desk
so he wouldn’t roll away, and mouth kept silent by duct tape, he wasn’t
going anywhere. With that thought in my mind, the three of us headed
out. Don and Mike met us in the hall.
“Everything’s under control.” Don moved up
beside me. “All monitoring systems are down: cameras, alarms, mics,
the works.”
“Great job, Donnie,” I patted his shoulder.
“Wow!” Mike’s eyes focused on the glowing
object in my hand. “Is that the wand?”
“Yep. This is it.”
“Awesome! How’s it work?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know, but Wendy does.”
Leo held up his hand, “Then lead the way.”
Raph and Mike drug the guard out of sight after
I slipped the card key from his belt. I hurriedly scanned the card,
*Swish-click* the door unlocked. Grasping the knob with my sweaty
hand, I turned it and pushed the door open. It was very dark inside.
I pulled the wand from my belt and held it up. The crystal shone
pale yellow, lighting the way to a lamp. The Turtles crowded in behind
me, blinking in the sudden light. I looked at the bed and gasped,
“She’s not here!!”
After a moment of silence, Leo spoke quietly,
“She could be dead already.”
“NO!” I shook my head angrily, “If she were
dead, the wand would go out! I KNOW it!”
“Then where is she?”
Suddenly, it hit me: “JACKSON!!” We
ran, with me in the lead, toward Jackson’s lab. I skidded to a halt
in front of the doors, used the card key, and rushed in. Lying on
a table, tubes and wires sticking out of her, was Wendy. “Oh God,”
I breathed, moving to my friend. She was unconscious, but alive.
I felt my anger grow as I glanced at the closed door of Jackson’s office.
Gently, I lay the wand at Wendy’s side, making sure it touched her, then
turned to the Turtles, drawing my sword, “Stay with her.”
“But. . .” Raph started.
“No. I want to face him alone.”
Raphael hesitated, then slowly reached down
and pulled out one of his sais, shifted his grip, and handed it to me hilt
first. I accepted it, smiled at him, then strode over to the door.
I gently turned the door handle, so he wouldn’t hear me, but found it locked.
So, I decided to try the unsubtle approach: Using all my pinned up anger,
I kicked the door with a howl. It gave with surprising ease.
As I entered, I heard Raph mumble to himself, “That’s my girl.”
Jackson sat stunned at his desk. His
eyes focused on me and widened, “You!”
“You.”
“I knew you’d be back for your little friend!”
I heard a buzz and glanced back through the doorway to see Jackson’s interns
rush into the lab.
“They look like hell,” I commented.
“Guess I beat them up worse that I thought.” The Turtles must have
been out of sight, for the punks gave no sign of seeing them. Once
they were past Wendy, the guys were on them. It took about ten seconds
for the Turtles to take the interns out. “My back-up,” I told the
shocked Jackson.
Suddenly, his hand whipped out toward the phone.
In a swift, fluid motion, I plunged Raphael’s sai straight down with a
growl. Jackson’s screams bounced around the small room as he stared,
wide-eyed at the weapon passing through his hand and the desk, pinning
him. “Now we can talk," I said over his wails, but then
brought my sword point to his throat, “Shut up or I’ll kill you now.”
His cries changed to whimpers almost immediately. “Good boy,” I lowered
my blade. “So, Zachary thinks I escaped. Is that what you told
him?” Jackson pressed his lips together and defiantly met my gaze.
Again my blade rose to his neck. “I’ll get it out of you one way
or another.”
My sword and expression must have cured his
silent treatment, “Of course that’s what I told him! He’s stupid
enough to believe me, the fool.”
“What exactly did you say?”
“What difference does it make?”
“I love a good story,” I pressed cold steel
to his throat.
Jackson gave a pathetic, whimpering sigh,
“I told him my interns were transporting you back from a workout session;
you suddenly became violent, turned on them, and ran out the front doors.”
“What about alarms?”
“He gives you more credit than you deserve,”
Jackson snarled, “so, I told him you must have disarmed them yourself.
Since you intelligence scores are ‘off the charts’ the idiot bought it.”
I considered what Jackson had told me so far,
deciding he wasn’t lying, then changed my route of questioning: “Did you
kill Calla?”
A sickly version of the wicked grin spread
on his face, “That result was unintentional, just a pleasant surprise.
I discovered one of the viruses that seemed to have no effect caused a
kidney infection that proved fatal.”
I was barely able to control my self: I so
wanted to rip that smirk from his face, but I kept outwardly calm.
“What about all those other Creations?” His brow furrowed.
“In the chambers, sub-basement level. You kill them, too?”
He continued to stare at me for a moment,
the recoiled back as if slapped, “How did you know about that?”
I put both hands on his desk and leaned in
so we were face to face, “I have my ways. Besides, I’m asking the
questions: Did you kill them?”
Jackson kept eye contact for a moment, then
dropped his gaze, “Not all of them. Some just didn’t take the mutation
well. There were so many different formulas for mutagen, we had no
way of knowing how their bodies would react.”
Again I paused to consider his answer, then
asked, “What about me? Tell me what you’ve learned about my ability
to resist your attempts at making me sick.”
Jackson shook his head, “Telling you everything
I learned could take hours. . .”
“Then give me the abridged version.”
After a pause, to gather his thoughts I guessed,
Jackson began, “You may not be
a “Work of Art,” but I can’t deny that you are an amazing being.”
I continued to stare at him, unresponsive, so he kept talking. “Your
immune system is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. It withstand
every disease so completely and efficiently that it’s unreal.”
“But what about the Memory Serum? That
seemed to work pretty well,” I interrupted.
“Ah, but it didn’t.” Jackson’s lips
were pulled back in a grimace of pain as wiped his hand across his brow.
“It just took a while for your system to figure out how to beat it.
The serum should have caused permenent memory loss. Your’s returned
in a matter of days. Your immune system just needed to adapt to a
syntheitic ‘virus’.”
There was a brief silence, then I said quitely,
“Ok, go on.”
Jackson heaved a slightly shaky sigh
then continued: “I haven’t yet figured out why, but I believe the
development of your advanced immune system has something to do with the
formula we used to mutate you, something in your blood, in your DNA, SOMEthing
reacted with the mutagen, giving you this immune system that keeps you
completely healthy. We never had the same reaction again, thus, the
name you were given. The same reaction seemed to have increased your
mind’s capacity--your memory, learning ability and speed, and hormonal
controls were effected. As your body changed, so did your brain.
“As for your body, we expected the female-human
characteristics that you have now, but we did not expect the muscle development
you’ve undergone. We believe it’s partially due to the release of
certain hormones as you used your muscles, because the changes in them
began after you started your training. The mutated hormones caused
you to become incredibly strong, compared to the average human female of
your weight and age. In addition, your strength is increased when
you are under stress, and adrenaline is released into your blood.
We can only assume that it has been affected by the mutation as well.”
He attempted a weak grin that lasted only seconds,
“Kinda like Super-mutant, aren’t you? They never created anything
like you here, and probably never will. You’re a freak. An
impressive, amazing freak, but a freak none the less.”
He slumped in his chair, shoulders drooping,
looking tired and defeated. I regarded him for a moment, absorbing
everything he just told me, then reached out, and yanked the sai out of
the desk with a grunt. Jackson shrieked and clutched his wounded
hand to his body. I leaned in again, this time putting the point
of the bloody sai to his throat. “I should kill you for what you’ve
done. For all the lives you’ve destroyed. For all the pain
you caused my friends.”
He stared into my eyes, “You can’t kill me.
You don’t have the guts. You’re too ‘Honor bound’.”
The sai wavered. Hope shone in his eyes.
His body relaxed slightly. I let my right hand holding the sai drop
and stood straight. Jackson grinned. I looked at him for a
moment, then bared my teeth and swiftly thrust my sword forward.
Eyes bulging and mouth agape, Jackson looked down at the blade running
through his middle.
Slowly, I pulled my weapon from his body, and waited
for his eyes to return to mine. “This is about Honor,” I spat.
Jackson’s gaze stayed locked on me as the light
in them went out; his breathing was shallow and raspy. Then, between
one breath and the next, he was gone.
I wiped the blood from both weapons on Jackson’s
clothes, then slowly made my out of the office. Standing just outside
the doorway, I looked at the Turtles. They stared back expectantly.
I shrugged, “It’s done.” Suddenly, the shock of what just happened
hit me, and my legs felt as though they would no longer support my body.
Raphael rushed forward and pulled me to him. I let his embrace comfort
me, welcoming his strong arms. “I-I killed him,” my voice was shaky.
“He didn’t think I would, but I did.” Raph held me close as I talked,
nearly wept.
“You did the right thing,” came a weak voice
from behind Leo.
We all turned to the sound. Sitting
up on the table, looking thin and tired, clutching a glowing wand, was
Wendy. I cried her name and rushed to her. “Are you ok?”
She took my hand and gently squeezed.
“I am now. Thank you.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Mike shifted his
weight nervously. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“No.” I gazed at each of them.
“I still have work to do. Will you help me?”
Raphael approached me, lay a hand on my shoulder,
and smiled, “Just tell us what to do.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------
“Hey guys! Come here quick! We
made the news!” Mikey’s voice drifted to the kitchen from the living
room.
A newswoman named April--who was a friend
of the Turtles--was in the middle of her report: “The building, which
is thought to have been abandoned, was once the research facility know
as T.G.R.I. The fire of unknown origin started late last night.
Damage reports estimate the building is a total loss.”
“Good-bye, Facility,” Wendy spoke quietly
from my side. I put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“Are you sure we did the right thing?”
Don asked from his workshop door.
I thought for a moment. “Yes, I am.”
“What about Zachary?”
“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him.
He’d have to start over from scratch. Besides, I think he’s probably
too scared of us to try anything now.”
Leo nodded, “I agree,” he smiled at me, “We
did the right thing.”
“Yeah. We even made sure all the inturns
and guards were out.” Raph spoke up.
Don’s brow furrowed, “What if THEY try and
start something?”
Wendy snorted. “What THOSE guys?
They were hardly There for Their brain power. They were mostly Med-school
drop-outs and NYPD rejects. Anderson was the brains behind the whole
outfit. Then Zachary after him.”
“That’s why there were so few Creations at
a time. They could only keep up with so many at once,” I said, then
added, “I’m just glad we were able to destroy the evidence so of
what went on There so completely.”
Don leaned against the doorjamb, “They were
fully prepared to get rid of anything incriminating. Those terrible
chambers were equipped with content distruct mechanisms.”
“What do you think happened, Donnie?”
Mike turned his attention away from the TV.
“If I understand the program correctly, then
once activated, the mechanism releases a chemical into the chambers; something
corrosive enough to dissolve the bodies completely.”
“How vile!” Leo grimaced.
I shrugged, “They don’t feel it. They’re
dead.”
“Yeah,” Wendy looked up at Leo, “Hopefully
now they can rest in peace.”
“I can’t help feeling bad about Jackson,”
I sighed.
A stern gaze from Wendy fell upon me, “Don’t.
He got what he deserved.”
“I guess.”
Suddenly, the lair door swung open, and the
newswoman, April, entered, followed by Casey. They were both carrying
thin boxes. “Anybody order some pizza?!”
Wendy and I cocked our heads, then looked
at each other, puzzled. “Pizza?”
“You DON’T KNOW PIZZA!?!?” Mike practically
screamed.
“We’ve got a lot to teach you, “Raph hugged
me affectionately.
I squeezed him back, and grinned, “We’ve got
a lot of time to learn.”
The End