Chapter 2
The soldier arrived back at the dojo unaccompanied by his team-mates, battered and bruised. Yataro looked over him with pity as he limped weakly into his quarters.
"Master Yataro," the soldier bowed with much effort to his superior. "Forgive me for disrupting, but we were attacked-"
"By whom?" Yataro demanded, eager to move on to other matters.
The soldier shook his head, staring at the floor. "By four men in disguises . . . they fought with great skill. Only I have managed to make it back."
"What of your leader?"
"She was taken by them . . . the ninja."
Yataro knew instantly which team this sad sight of a man had come from. It was lead by a young woman whom he had resultantly put in charge of a team.
He nodded curtly to the soldier. "Thank you for you loyalty." He then turned to one of the men which had assisted the soldier in. "Take care of this man, see to it that he is aided."
Yataro watched the close door many minutes after they had left, contemplating what he had just been told. Why had the team been attacked and why had the leader been captured?
He paced across the room and sat at a small table. What was the girls name? Kaori? He nodded to himself, remembering her to be in the Murasaki family. Her father and brother had once been highly regarded members of the original clan, unfortunately, they had both been killed in battle and soon after the girl joined . . . she was very young as he recalled, but also very skilled.
Again he wondered why she would be valuable to the disguised men. She had been fairly low-key in comparison to her brother, who seemed always eager fight and cause trouble, and it had only been her first mission in which she was in command. At this thought he grew angry. Her assignment was not that of great difficulty, how could she have failed?
Yataro rubbed his brow wearily. Soon he would question the soldier further and send out another team to look for, and hopefully find the girl. He was loyal to his men as they were to him and he would rescue her, but she would be punished for her irresponsibility.
Her thoughts were then cut short when she heard a movement outside the door of the room. She lifted her head and faced the general direction of the noise. The door opened slowly and someone crept in at an equally slow pace, closing the door behind them.
"What do you want?" Kaori demanded, feeling a surge of desperate anger.
"Easy!" She recognized the amused voice as belonging to Mike, who was chewing on something crunchy. "Hungry?"
"No." She lied.
"Oh . . . Thirsty?"
She shook her head, perplexed. "What do you want? Did they send you in here to try and get me to talk?"
"No . . . just wanted to know if you were hungry, but I guess not . . ." Hey toyed and started towards the door.
"Wait . . ." She said, a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Yeeeees?"
Kaori's pride resurfaced then and she was reluctant to ask anything of him. "Why are you keeping me in a sewer? I mean, honestly, who takes someone hostage and brings 'em to the sewer?" She bit her lip, hoping he'd buy her excuse.
He laughed. "'Cause no one ever suspects the sewer!"
She rolled her eyes under the blind fold. "Well incase you haven't noticed, there's not exactly a heater in the sewer and it's cold."
"You'll get use to it . . . or here, if you lean against those pipes the steam'll keep ya warm."
"That's great, but it's not really gonna help-" She stopped when he grabbed the chair and pulled it over against the pipes with a clunk.
"There." Mike stepped back and then moved over to the other side of the room where he settled himself on the floor and continued munching on whatever it was he had.
"Uh . . . thanks . . ." Kaori was unsure of what to say. She was hoping he wouldn't try to start a conversation with her, as it would make her less prone to want to hurt him, but her hoping was in vain when he began to speak again.
"So what're you doin' in that clan anyways?"
"Why should I tell you? I really don't see how it's any of your concern."
"Ok, fine." He said, his mouth full. "Then . . . ya wanna play I Spy?"
"How the hell am I suppose to play I Spy when I'm blind folded?" She spat.
Mike laughed again, "Just a joke . . . ya know, if you would tell Leo . . . uh, us what we wanted to know, you could just go along your merry way and save yourself all this."
"And once again, why should I? How do you even know I have any information on the stupid Foot Clan?"
"Well you're a member of it . . . or what's left of it, so it just seems like you would know somethin'."
"Well I don't, so don't come in here and try and ack like you're my friend, 'cause you're not."
Mike didn't say anything at first and She could tell he was taken aback. "All right, sorry I came in the first place." He laughed a little then. "I'm really not even suppose ta be in here."
Now Kaori stopped. "So why are you?"
"I dunno." She could hear the smile in his voice and suddenly she felt a tinge of regret. "I'll just leave this here in case you decided you're hungry." He set the box deliberately at her feet. "Enjoy!"
With that, he walked out of the room, leaving her there, puzzled.
Leo had sent him back to the warehouse, where they had fought the pitiful team of ninjas, to hopefully get more information. Raph was suppose to be with him, but he split about an hour ago, insisting that the whole thing was a dumb idea. Don rolled his eyes. It seemed like anything Leo decided was wrong or stupid to Raph, who always seemed so sure himself. Don was always reluctant to intervene with the two of them, though most times he did agree with Leo.
He popped a kink out of his neck and stood. Every since he had followed the wounded soldier to what he assumed as their dojo, he had been waiting for some sort of activity. He jumped down from the ledge and leaned against it, keeping a careful eye on the door in which the man had entered. He wasn't sure what he was looking for at this point . . . would they go to tend to their wounded men? Or perhaps try and find the girl?
He thought of the girl wearily . . . what a pain she was. He hadn't really expected the whole ordeal to be as difficult as it was making itself out to be. He wondered if Leo had when he first suggested the plan. All they were going to do was get someone from this clan they had been keeping track of lately and get some information from them. Seemed simple enough . . . then Leo explained why it needed to be someone of higher status, with more experience, hopefully with the Foot Clan as well.
Lately, there had been an unusual amount of activity within the clans which had once all been the Foot. One of them in particular had caught their attention. It was led by Tatsu, Shredders former 'right hand man.' After disappearing for awhile, he came back with a large number of followers behind him, causing concern among himself and his brothers. They had been trying to gain as much knowledge about this new clan as they could as it quickly rose to power, but found it nearly impossible seeing as how they were so neat about all their affairs. They left very little in the ways of leads and never seemed to remain stationary. At first they really didn't do anything to cause alarm, but they had always been weary. Recently though, his clan had been poking around in odd places, one of which being the sewer, which, naturally, caused them to spring into action.
Just then the door Don had been watching opened and five men, all dressed in black dogis, exited the building and moved stealthy into the alley. He sprang up and followed them along the roof tops.
It almost sickened him how little caution these 'ninja' were using. They slinked though the dark streets like nervous rats, seeming to hesitate with every step.
When they reached the warehouse, there was only one man left of the team, lying face down in a pool of blood. Don wondered who's handy work that had been . . . probably Raphael's, though hopefully it was accidental.
The men stood around the body and began to mutter among themselves. Don climbed down to the street and lingered in the shadows, though still close enough to hear what was being said.
". . .the others must have gone back, I guess this guy is all that's left."
"Take his mask off, see who it is"
One of the men bent down and rolled the man over, removing his mask. He stared at the face for a moment before reveling his identity. "It's Chris . . . he was new."
The others were silent for a moment, then another man spoke, "Direct orders from Yataro were to find these men as well as Kaori, we can't waste time over trivial matters." He paused dramatically to catch each of the soldiers attention. "Now, we were told that the men they fought went down one of these alleyways and disappeared. Our job is to find where they disappeared to, so split up and be on your guard."
Don sunk back into the shadows as the men dispersed. He watched them search a moment longer before one of them came too close for comfort to the dark niche where he hid. He jumped upwards soundlessly, catching hold of the fire escape above him and pulling himself up. There he hovered silently as the soldier inspected the area among the crates and garbage cans where Don had been. When the man was satisfied that the space was empty of another souls presence moments later, he left. Don scaled back up the building and situated himself on a perch to watch the men hunt the warehouse lot and surrounding alleys uselessly.
By the time the sun began to rise, they had regrouped and realized that their efforts had been in vain. Ever since he and his brothers had moved to a different, habitable, part of the sewer, they hadn't had much trouble with their lair being found. Don smiled to himself. If only they had gone a few more blocks, maybe they would have . . . nah.
Now he would return to the layer and report to his brothers that his task has been almost as useless as the soldiers.
She paused for a moment, catching her breath and wishing her hands were free to whip the sweat from her forehead. She took another deep breath and moved on to the second challenge the accursed box was providing. Pushing it up on it's side, she griped it between both her feet and lifted it to her seat. She scooted further back into the chair and jerked her legs up quickly, lighting her heels on the seat, the box still held firmly between her feet.
"Yes," She muttered victoriously. Now if she could just set the box down she could proceed to open it.
Very slowly and with much effort, she pulled her legs in, her arms raising behind her in unity. She bit her lip, just a little further . . . that's when she felt the rusted bolt dig into her wrist, preventing her from bending any further forward and pulling her legs in. She tried to reposition her arms so they would miss the bolt, but it seemed unavoidable. She could not let the box go now or it would surly fall, but she couldn't pull it in any further either. She clenched her teeth again, frustrated.
Her stomach growled and she could feel it churning emptily. "Damn it!" She cursed and let her head drop wearily. She was hungry and she hurt. The pipes had kept her from being cold with steam, which at first felt good, but now she was sticky with sweat and miserable, that's when and idea came to her.
She lifted her arms again, searching for the rusty bolt and upon finding it, she placed the rope over it and began to move her hands back and forth, hoping to wear down the rope and break free. After a moment though, she realized it would be much easier if she could slide further down in the chair. So this was it, the food or the rope. Grievously, she lowered her legs to the ground and let the box fall. If she could get the rope off, she would be able to just pick it up, she thought with renewed hope. Again, she worked her wrists back and forth, feeling the bondage weaken right along with her.
After several minutes, not only had she broken through the first layer of rope, but she had also rubbed wrists raw. Each movement was agonizing, but soon, she was on the last thread of the rope. She clenched her teeth and jerked her hands down, snapping the final thread. She brought her arms forward, realizing how stiff and sore they where. She rubbed the aching muscles soothingly, trying to ignore the throbbing in her wrists, there was little she could do about them. When it felt as if the blood had once again returned to her arms, she reached up and untied the blindfold, seeing the small room for the first time.
It was dimly lit by a small, orange, button-like lite on what she guessed as some sort or meter mounted on the wall. She stood, popped her back, neck, and legs and noticed the pipes that lined the wall she had been leaning against to the ceiling. The door was made of rotted wood, but looked thick. She walked over to it and jiggled the handle, knowing it would be locked. She sighed and nearly collapsed on the damp cement floor, exhausted. Then she remembered the box of food. She sat up and saw it sitting next to her immediately. With ravenous hunger, she tore it open and shoved a hand full or caramel popcorn into her mouth. She chewed the sugary, slightly stale nuggets quickly, only to thrust another handful in her mouth. She had no idea what time it was, or much less cared, all that was important was the sweet, delicious popcorn. As distracting as the sugary morsels were, she jumped up when the door swung open suddenly.
She backed against the wall, pieces of the popcorn clinging to her stuffed cheeks. The short figure of her captor stood in the doorway, cloaked by thick shadows. He stood motionless, shocked at seeing her out of the chair with the box of food.
"How'd you-"
"Stay there!" She demanded, her voice stifled by the partially chewed food in her mouth.
He slowly inched into the room and to the corner opposite her. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, calm down."
"I'm not afraid of you!" She yelled, reaching for her tanto she kept strapped to her thigh, but found it missing.
"I'm not going to fight you," He said, making no movement.
She looked quickly towards the open door, and then back to him. "Good."
She charged towards the door, still clinging onto the box of caramel popcorn, but she was weak and he easily brought her down before she made her escape.
She struggled under him fiercely and managed to turn herself onto her back, only to stare up into a green, snarling face.