P
Literature
Part 39 Unexpected Delivery Prequel After the meal, April stayed put as the fancy plates and foods were cleared away.  She watched idly until her eyeline ran across the pale Mob boss. He smiled at her again, once, then a wave of ice passed over his face and she swallowed in fear. April remembered this large smiling man was a lethal drug dealer. "My name is Petrov." He slammed his hand on the table and she jolted in her seat. "Huh, usually I get a squeak, too. You are something else, April O'Neil. You may call me, Petrov. Most I make call me, Mr. Petrov! I am sorry you must restrict your freedom here with me for now. And I ask you not to try to escape. If you do, your minders may have to hurt you. I would dislike that." He peered at her closely. "You look fit. Perhaps I will let you train my men." April's eyes widened and she stammered, "N-No-No, thank you, Mr. Petrov. None of my side jobs cover training Mob men or trained dogs!" Petrov sighed theatrical, "I am disappointed, of course. However, I have learned to live with disappointment. Well, enjoy your time at my spa. We will share the midday and dinner meals often and unless you cause trouble, the breakfast, never. Enjoy your next three days." April stared at Petrov, the secluded Mob boss, in horror. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Intent on reading Casey's note, Raphael bumped up against the coffee table and equally blindly, rolled over the armrest of Splinter's chair. Ninja skills coming to the fore, he managed to keep from landing badly or crumple the paper before finishing reading it. Having gotten the gist of the note, Michelangelo's spilled soda caught his eye. "Oh, shell. Guys!" He was a smart turtle. He could multitask. They could come to him... while he mopped up the mess with a towel. Having to read hastily written  kanji didn't help Leonardo's reading speed but, he had only gotten to the part about investigating an emergency alert on the turtle cell when he heard Michelangelo's shout. Stuffing the note in his obi, he raced down the hall.   Raphael reread the note, hoping to understand the scant lines on the page better or better yet, it meant something different. Hearing Mikey's shout, he distractedly shuffled into the kitchen doorway. Still mentally picking out kanji translations, Leo turned the corner into the kitchen and tried to bypass Raphael.  Michelangelo had Seen cartoon characters get stuck together in doorways. But, never his brothers. Of course, they immediately started shoving and pulling impressively. Watching the flex and play of light on toned muscles, Michelangelo dropped the sloppy kitchen towel off the table and onto a chair. "Oh, Shell." Shouting came next, "What da' shell, Leo?" Raphael snarled, inches from Leonardo's face. "I got a note from Casey that April's emergency alert went off!" "My note is from Master Splinter and he says they are going to investigate alone." Leonardo snorted back, temper moderately tried. Trying to dislodge himself from the doorway, he started to try to examine their predicament and figure out where to place his hands.  Raphael dug his heals in and successfully moved himself up one agonizing inch. Half a moment later, Donatello's bo staff jutted past their chins and tilted at an angle, unwedging the stuck duo. Raphael teetered into the kitchen and Leonardo paced into the hallway. Donatello glared at all three, "April's in trouble? Let's gear up! And Mike, leave the mess." Dangling from one ankle were the rainbow handcuffs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Casey had been yelling April's name for the entire last leg of the trip through the sewers. As he opened the secret door on the basement, he called it again. "April! Where are yuh, babe?" He stood still as the cold of the sewer mixed with the warmth in the house. Not a sound, until Splinter scurried up the basement stairs and carefully held his nose to the bottom edge of the door step. Casey looked at the state of his shoes and scrambled to remove them. Halfway through the removal of the second shoe, Splinter announced his analysis. "There have been strangers here. Two men with dogs. They are gone now but, there is the scent of blood. Not much but, some." "What?!" Casey became an undignified mess and slapped his hand on the washing machine as his second shoe popped off while attempting to regain his balance. "The Mob had dogs looking for me! And April..." He somehow managed to pass Splinter in slippery socks before the old rat could do more than open the basement door. Checking the rooms, starting with the bedroom first, Casey began a random circle while Splinter stalked to the mostly closed bathroom door, one hand on sword. Opening the door silently, Splinter called out to Casey as the human grew even more frantic. "She fought here, Mr. Jones!" His eyes gauged the scene before him before he snapped an arm out to keep Casey from blundering inside the room in his panic. April obviously was not present. Splinter met Casey's glum look  with a grim nod. "The dog handlers of the Mob have her, Mr. Jones. But, look!" Splinter pointed out a large towel with an oversized bloody thumbprint and two fat red drops on the floor. "Weaponless, April gave one a bloody nose and is likely uninjured herself. I smell gun oil and my belief is she was kidnapped at gunpoint."  Casey looked at Splinter and nodded, his expression turning bitter, slowly he slumped against the bathroom door frame and slid down to his knees. His voice came choked and tearful, "This is all my fault, Master Splinter. All my fault..." Finally, true sobs began and it was all Splinter could do to hold the sob wracked man who had become such a vital part of his small family.