Disclaimer: I have never owned any mutated turtles of any type, or ugly secret agents with rapidly receding hairlines. I’d LIKE to own the former. Mirage can have the latter as far as I’m concerned.

A/N: Okay, next chapter is here. I didn’t have as much editing to do with this one but I still lengthened it somewhat.

By the way, I do hope I portrayed Bishop right…he’s the bane of my existence.

2.

Oh…shell. Don slowly turned in his chair, trying his best to act naturally. As naturally as one could act with several gun barrels and a fearsome man in his mid-life crisis in front of oneself. “Any particular reason why you’ve invaded a government project, knocked out my men, and skulked around my computer?” Bishop asked in a deceptively casual manner. Don heard his heart pounding hard in his ears. He had somewhat expected to be caught, considering this was a smooth, holier-than-thou secret agent that possessed more than just a rapidly balding head on those shoulders. But getting caught and cornered in a truck of all places wasn’t a good part of his situation.

How he found these things out Don would never know. The turtle crossed one leg over his other, slowing his breathing down. “Well, the sewers are always nice this time of year. Perfect for meddling,” he replied, pandering to the word game. If it was anyone else, Don could’ve distracted them with conversation (the Shredder had always been quite the talkative one). But not Bishop. “And the fact that you haven’t exactly been known to take up projects for the good of mankind also helps,” he added, to see if he could get anything out of the man.

Bishop gave him a veiled smile and adjusted his glasses. “Humorous, but not entirely true. I won’t bother to explain my project to you, Donatello, because I’m sure you’ve learned quite enough from what you read in your…snooping.”

“Oh, not entirely,” Don said airily, tensing. He knows he’s holding all the cards and could shoot me full of lasers any time he pleased. So why is he toying with me like this…?

The agent nodded to his men and they moved in. “Lovely chatting with you, but I have work to be doing and I’m afraid I can’t let you go. You have found too much to just walk away without meddling. And I must admit I’m not one to reject a scientific discovery delivered to me on a silver platter,” he said with an unsavory grin. Don gritted his teeth. I should’ve known better than to just have walked in here expecting an easy out…Stupid!

As one of Bishop’s men motioned threateningly at Don with his gun, a bellow erupted from outside. “Eat feet, whackbag!” From behind Bishop came the juggernaut known as Raphael, crashing right into the man’s undefended back. Don caught a gratified smirk on his brother’s face. That must have felt good. Don himself would’ve lashed out at the man with his staff (his nose being the target), but having guns pointed at oneself can paralyze one’s reflexes. He flew forward right past his captive into the door adjoining to the driver’s seat, huffing at the harsh impact.

Don grabbed his staff from behind his chair and leapt up as Raph began unleashing a can of hurt on Bishop’s goons. “Thanks for the save, Raph!” he said quickly as he ran past the skirmish and hopped out the door.

“I rescue your damsel-ing butt way too often, Donnie,” the hot head retorted, finishing the last guy and vacating the vehicle as well. He turned and kicked the doors shut. “Now let’s beat it!”

As they went for the hole in the wall, in ran Leo and Mikey, the latter with wide eyes. “Dude, you’re going the wrong way!” Mike yelled as he ran past them. Don made an attempt to ask why but was interrupted by lasers whizzing past him. That patrol had come back. He heard Raph utter an “Ah crap!” as he turned to follow his two brothers. Leo hopefully had a plan to get them out of this dead end because Don sure didn’t.

The abandoned subway tunnel that had caved in during their first excursion to the Underground had been excavated to the point where it became a large chamber. But there were no other exits besides that single hole, Don observed with a sinking feeling. They were still cornered like rats.

Most of Bishop’s men had snapped out of their daze when they noticed four little green guys streaking past them and were now making use of their blasters by shooting aimlessly at them. Leo led them to a huge boulder half-embedded in the ground, which they promptly ducked behind to avoid getting Swiss-cheesed by the lasers flying around. Raph glanced around the rock and immediately pulled back when he nearly got his face vented.

“So what’s the plan, Fearless?” he growled, eyeing Leo. The blue-clad turtle looked over the top of the rock himself and had to retreat back into safety.

Leo gritted his teeth. “Our only option would be to fight our way to the out and hope nothing goes wrong.”

“Or we could get on our knees and scream for mercy!” Mike squealed, collapsing on the ground with his hands over his head.

“While we what, beg for a quick dissection?” Raph asked dryly, grasping his Sais. “No thanks. I’d rather go down kicking butt.”

“I don’t wanna go down at all!” Mikey whined. “Whose bright idea was this, messing with Mr. Secret Agent again?”

Don felt a little sheepish. “Whose fault it is doesn’t matter; Bishop was doing weird stuff in the sewers, he should’ve expected some meddling,” Raph said shortly.

Just then, one of Bishop’s soldiers appeared around the boulder, the barrel of his gun pointed straight at Raph. Quick as lightning, Raph had his Sai out and stabbed through the weapon. He then proceeded to kick the man away and fling the sparking blaster over the rock. Seconds later there was a loud boom and dust flew everywhere.

“Distraction! Go! “ Leo bolted around the boulder into the cloud of confusion.

Wordlessly, Don quickly ran after him and whipped out his staff to smack three gun-toting goons to the ground. He could vaguely see the form of Leo disarming a soldier of his blaster and roundhouse-kicking him into the man beside him. Both crumpled to the ground and the turtle went in for another strike with his swords at a soldier who had been aiming in a rather unsportsman-like behavior at the taunting Michelangelo’s back.

Don yelped and dodged a shot with inches to spare. The turtle quickly rammed shoulder first into the offending goon. He was rewarded with a surprised huff from his victim, who flew through the dust and landed with a grunt of expelled breath in the crater formed by the exploding blaster. Then he turned and suddenly barreled into another few of Bishop’s soldiers, the bunch of them falling into a confused heap about him. As he tried to fathom what had just happened, one found Don lying next to him and shot out with the butt of his gun for the poor turtle’s head. Don made a Mikey-like sound of surprise and moved to dodge it.

He barely got out of the way in time. The gun butt missed Don’s head but connected instead with his shoulder. The turtle stifled a hiss as his nerves delivered the message to him with annoying promptness. Don proceeded to smack the smirk he knew was under the man’s facemask right off with a solid punch to the skull. He left the man to lay there and flipped onto his feet.

He glanced around, seeing his brothers spread out among fights. Not good. All of them knew they were better off in a group. And what was worse was that the dust cloud was clearing up. Don started to make a beeline for Mikey’s knot of men but was cut off by a line of soldiers that had evidently decided he was to stay put and make friends. Wrong answer, Don thought to himself. He tightened his grip on his Bo and crouched.

Don suddenly flew into a leap, landing precisely behind several of the soldiers, and spun in a circle with his staff outstretched. He promptly jumped lightly and executed a roundhouse kick. The turtle’s already off-balance enemies sailed forward, slamming into the van with a satisfying thud. He then swiftly swung his staff at another man's facemask from his airborne position. The plastic shattered, digging into its wearer’s face and eyes and caused a strangled scream to tear from the soldier’s bloodied mouth. He was down.

From his landing, Don tackled another foe to the ground, cracking his head on a rock. Inertia carried him off his unconscious opponent and into another, flattening him on the ground. He bounced off and settled into a crouch. He was a little closer to the exit now but still too far away. Don heard Mikey yelp and he whirled. The gregarious turtle had gotten himself cornered. There was a smoking spot on the wall next to his head. Don guessed the shooter had just missed.

Mike wall-jumped over his ring of men and round house kicked two in the back once he landed, but that was as much as Don got to see. Something cracked him on the back of the head, sending him flying with a starburst of pain exploding in his head. He crashed onto the ground and rolled several times before a wall kindly stopped him. “Okay, that one hurt,” he moaned. Whoever had given him that smack had one strong arm.

Stars danced in his eyes as he rubbed his head vigorously to relieve some of the pain. And his already throbbing shoulder complained even louder. He blinked owlishly at the gun barrel pointing unyieldingly at his beak.

“I’d say you’ve done enough, Donatello,” Bishop growled, red glowing lines showing through the white shirt under his suit. Of course he had to have his tech suit full of goodies with him. That was probably what sent the turtle flying. Him and the butt of his blaster. “I’m afraid your unique genetics won’t save you this time.” The gun began to hum. Don knew that unless his body responded to his screaming mind, he was toast.

From a distance, Don heard a bellow that was all too familiar. A flash of silver and a Sai was firmly embedded in Bishop’s gun. The man voiced a gravelly yell of surprise as the device crackled and flashed, and only amplified his angry noises when Raphael crashed into him with his feet. Both flew out of Don’s stunned line of vision, leaving the gun behind in front of him. This was enough to snap him out of his daze. Fright wormed its way into his stomach and he scrambled rapidly away from the weapon, shoulder throbbing viciously. Seconds later, the tunnel was rocked with a resounding explosion.

Don looked back at the smoking hole that had appeared due to the blast. “That worked just as well as when Raph did it last time,” he observed with wide eyes. His brother and Bishop seemed oblivious to the yawning hole, exchanging blows so fast they were impossible to follow. Don watched in horror as Bishop got the upper hand and seized the hothead’s wrist.

Next Don was knocked off his feet by Raph’s flying body. Both tumbled as they hit the ground and crashed into the van Don had so eagerly jumped into not five minutes before.

Raph groaned and got up. “I give the guy five seconds to make his will before I grind his head into a smoothie with my bare hands,” he growled murderously, helping his brother up. Don’s shoulder was really starting to hurt by now. Stupid gunman, he grumbled inwardly.

“We’re not getting anywhere with this,” he pointed out hurriedly as Bishop flew at them.

“Depends –” Raph dodged the lightning fast swing of a fist and flipped on top of a nearby van. “—what you call—“ He seized a satellite dish and ripped it off the roof as Bishop snarled and kicked out at Don, who rapidly ducked. “—anywhere!” he finished with a throw of his improvised discus. His target grunted, unfazed, as it made contact with his gut. Don took the distraction and did a series of flips backward to put some space between him and his adversary. Raph also made use of Bishop’s momentary flinch and launched off the top of the van, punching him solidly in the jaw.

He bent like a willow switch, absorbing the hit, and flipped. Raph’s chin made painful friends with Bishop’s foot and his head jerked up. The agent landed and promptly kicked the turtle’s legs out from under him. “You fools don’t understand what you’re meddling in!” Bishop growled through gritted teeth, ducking Don’s Bo staff with ease and catching it in one hand.

“Sure we understand, moron!” Raph was on his feet again and had his Sais out now. Where he retrieved the second one from, Don would never know. “You’re up to no good again!”

Bishop caught his attempted stab and at the same time, pitched Don with his powerful arm. “WHOA!” The turtle sailed almost twenty feet and rolled the rest of the way right into the backs of Mikey’s legs. Raph followed suit not long after, colliding with Don. The turtle’s shoulder complained violently at this and he voiced its pain.

“Ow!”

“Hey!” Mikey passed within inches of a shot from a gun and proceeded to quickly swing his ‘chuk at the offender’s arm. There was a dull snap and he fell backward screaming with a broken bone. Mike looked back at his two brothers. “You guys sure know how to throw a dude off.” Don turned his head and saw the sideways view of Leo kicking tail a few yards off.

“Ugh…” Raph grunted, getting up. “This guy is seriously gettin’ on my last nerve.”

Leo backed up to the group, breathing heavily with swords forward. “Any bright ideas, Leo?” Don asked. The soldiers of Bishop’s small army that were left slowly closed into a circle around them, guns pointed evenly to the center of their ring.

“We could surrender, kiss his feet, and then tell him we’re sorry and we’ll never be bad little turtles again,” Mike offered nervously. Raph’s growl told him the idea was not appreciated.

“I’m terribly sorry, Michelangelo, but you and your brothers’ meddling has gone too far for mere mercy to correct,” Bishop said in that gravelly voice of his. The ring of soldiers parted to let the agent pass. He adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms behind his back, a habit that Mike had once mocked in the safety of the Lair.

“Tough!” Raph snarled unyieldingly, brandishing his Sais. “You’re on our turf, you’re stickin’ your nose where it shouldn’t be, you should’ve expected some butt-whoop comin’ your way!” Leo shot him a warning glance. The turtle subsided with a thin glare.

Bishop smirked. “I figured you would be smart enough to keep your fingers out of the proverbial pie,” he replied, letting his arms fall to his sides again. The soldiers tensed. “But it seems I’ve been giving you far too many chances.” He gave an almost imperceptible signal with his right hand. Mikey gulped. “Take small comfort in knowing that I will enjoy every last moment of dissecting you.”

“Dissect THIS!” Raphael’s Sai flashed across the space between them and Bishop, with him close behind it.

“Raph! NO!” Leo darted after his brother, and all shell broke loose.

Don had just enough time to see Bishop expertly dodge the flying weapon and catch Raph’s descending fist before he had to duck gunfire from the soldiers’ blasters.

Mikey yelped with all the pitch and tone of a schoolgirl, narrowly avoiding the rays of energy by sheer luck. “Nice going, Raph!” he squealed, proceeding to agilely smack a man’s gun from his hands with his nunchakus. The unfortunate soldier staggered back and got a face full of green foot. He was down.

Whirling like a dervish, Mikey spun to miss getting his entire internal system vented by the random gunfire. He rolled, halting between two soldiers, and kicked out with both feet. The two went sailing, bowling over several of their comrades. The turtle gave a victory whoop and flipped upright, only to find several more in their place.

“Geez, don’t you guys ever take a lunch break?” he whined. Shoving his utmost desires to dash headlong for the exit of this wild party, Mikey leapt, whipping his nunchakus down on the heads of two of the new guys. He landed to the melodious sound of loud thumps and struck out at the kneecap of another. He collapsed on the unresponsive leg with a loud scream of pain, unnoticed by his rapidly moving attacker.

Since he hadn’t been shot or maimed in any way, Mike was feeling rather triumphant.

Until he managed to get himself ringed in by soldiers. The turtle stood slowly, nervously raising his hands at their unmoving gun barrels. “Uh…uncle?” No response. It was to be expected, after all. Okay, Mikey, on the count of three, you pull a fast one on them…A gun started to hum nearby and his eyes bulged. THREE! He ducked in the rapidness of panic, the shot zipping over his head into the man opposite him. Mikey flipped backward and landed on the shooter’s shoulders with a hard kick down. “Tut tut! Sloppy aim there, son!” he taunted as his platform collapsed soundlessly.

Using his fallen foe as a springboard, he jumped onto another man and pushed him over like a domino with a well-placed pair of feet to the chest. He rebounded from the kick, landing neatly on his feet. “And the amazing Michelangelo earns a ten for his stunning routine! The crowd goes wild!” He bowed with one arm outstretched. “Thank you, thank you…YIKES!” he yelped as a hand seized him from behind and pulled him down as a ray flew overhead.

“Mikey, move your shell!” Don cried frantically, letting go of his brother’s carapace and falling backwards. A shot hit the place he had been in. Mikey’s eyes grew wide as he realized the soldiers were growing wiser to their evasive tactics. He gave a high-pitched squeal and bolted for another van once several of the soldiers had missed by mere inches. Don was close on his heels.

“This…is not…working,” Mike panted heavily, sliding down the van’s wall with his shell until he was sitting. Don chanced a peek around the corner and pulled back quickly as gunshots ricocheted off the back doors.

“We’re sitting ducks if we keep this up,” Don replied grimly. He assumed the ‘chin in hand’ position. “We need a way to find Leo and Raph too…they can’t be having a much better time of it.” At that moment, over the chaos of gunfire, a familiar scream reached them, laced with pain.

Mike sat bolt upright. “Leo!”

Don gritted his teeth and took out his staff. “Hang on Mikey, we’re getting over there…with the help of Bishop.” He wound up like a major league baseball player and swung the Bo right at the driver’s window. The glass shattered on impact with a satisfying tinkling.

“Dude…Don, you’d make a wicked Babe Ruth.”

Ignoring the comment, Don grabbed the roof of the cab and swung in through the window. Mikey dove in and landed without grace in his lap. “Oof!” Don helped him the rest of the way to the passenger’s seat with a solid push on his brother’s shell and turned the key that had been so generously left in the ignition. The van rumbled to life.

Suddenly, the passenger window shattered in a shower of glass and shots from the soldiers’ blasters, prompting a squeal from Mikey as he covered his head with his arms. “Eeep!” The muzzle of a gun thrust itself through the ruined window, aimed right for Don’s temple. His brother sat up and threw his fist out into the offending soldier’s facemask, knocking him over. Mike abruptly ducked as more shots came screaming through the opening, missing the turtle at the wheel by inches.

Don yanked the shift and stomped on the accelerator. “Hang on, Mikey!” he yelled as the tires squealed. The van jumped forward and Don had to wrench the wheel to avoid running into a digger. Mike has obviously bouncing up and down in his seat because of the motorcycle-like noise escaping him. Soldiers jumped out of the way of the vehicle as it made its way across the manmade cavern. “Whoa!” They were fast bearing down upon Bishop, Leo and Raph, the latter two currently on their shells. Don grabbed and turned the wheel, maneuvering the van toward the former. “Mikey, JUMP!” He yanked his door open and the two dove out. The turtle in purple landed heavily on his injured shoulder, and he stifled a yelp as he rolled.

Bishop leapt aside as the careening vehicle flew past him. It continued on in a trail of dust until it hit a wall, emitting a mournful screech as its front crumpled like an accordion.

“Nice driving, slick!” Mike thumped his brother’s shell, grinning.

“Ugh…Donnie, take a look at Fearless for me, would ‘ja?” Raph grunted, getting up laboriously. “I think he got hit by one of Bishop’s cronies.” Worry clawed its way into his stomach as Don crawled over to his sword-wielding brother.

Leo struggled into an upright position and hissed in pain. “Ugh…Donnie, you okay?”

“Fine,” Don replied, bypassing the question and gripping him on the carapace to keep him sitting. His eyes were immediately drawn to the bloody spot on his brother’s shoulder. “Leo, were you hit dead-on or did it glance?” Sounds of a fight erupted behind them. Don whipped his head around and saw Raph and Mikey attacking Bishop without mercy. Both of their faces were twisted into grim expressions.

“I’m not sure. I think it just grazed me,” he answered, shifting a bit. “I didn’t see the gunner until Raph yelled at me. Lucky shot.” Don scrutinized the injury carefully. “It hurt like he didn’t miss at all, though,” Leo muttered, wincing when his examiner pressed too hard around the bloody spot. Raph’s cry of helpless anger erupted from behind. He would have to do this at the Lair later…if they got away before Bishop could pull out the big guns.

Don slung his brother’s arm over his shoulders and gently helped him up. It wasn’t lost on either of them that the soldiers he and Mikey had left behind were slowly gathering in a semicircle around them.

Finally, it seemed Bishop had enough of playing with the two turtles. He dodged a rapid swing of Mikey’s nunchukus, grabbed him on the other end by the wrist, and spun, throwing him at Don and Leo. Their brother’s high-pitched “Yikes!” reverberated off the walls. His flying lesson came to an abrupt end when he struck the ground and rolled several feet past Don and Leo. Raph growled murderously and kicked his attack speed up a notch, becoming a blur of green.

The strikes toward Bishop were coming fast and furious now. Raph almost landed a hit that could’ve sent his opponent reeling and after Bishop’s dodge, went into several lightning-fast slashes with his Sais. Leo watched anxiously. But his brother’s temper was beginning to get the upper hand. A Sai flashed mere inches from Bishop’s cheekbone but the man showed no signs of surprise.

Mikey was now standing. “Uh, Don, shouldn’t we get Raphie out of there so we can haul our shells to, say, anywhere but here?” he asked nervously.

Leo shook his head grimly. “We’re not leaving until –“

At that moment, something happened that nobody expected, least of all the turtles.

A guttural roar of fury erupted from the gaping hole that had been blown in the side of the excavated tunnel with the blaster Bishop dropped. Leo jerked visibly and let go of Don, and Bishop sent Raph tumbling backward with a firm kick to the plastron before whirling to face in that direction. Now the turtles seemed invisible to him. Mikey yelped as the ground shook. The agent bellowed some command that was lost in the following chaos.

Something enormous leapt out of the breach and landed with tremendous aftershocks on the floor. Its roar caused Don’s ears to ring.

“What the shell is THAT?!” Raph had made his way back to his brothers sometime after Bishop kicked him; when, Don couldn’t be sure. The creature currently rampaging amongst Bishop’s soldiers had all his attention.

“I have no idea,” Don replied. “But I think it’s the general consensus that we get the shell out of here.” Bishop had obviously known this creature was down here; he didn’t seem fazed at all by its appearance. Maybe that’s what was jeopardizing the subway tunnels, Don realized. It looked like a digger mutant from the experiments the Foot had done deep underground, but…We got all of the mutants with the serum…didn’t we? Wait, there was that door-

“Uh, Don…Don’t mean to interrupt your ‘me time’, but that THING’S coming this way!” Mike squealed.

The creature roared and slammed its forearms down into the ground. Gleaming red eyes narrowed as it saw the four brothers gathered together. With a bellow, it launched off its two shovel-like claws.

“Move it, Donnie!” Raph shoved Don to the side roughly. He and Mikey leapt aside as the hulking monster raked its claws across the spot where they had been. It whirled with amazing speed, fixing its eyes on Don and Leo. The former’s eyes widened.

“Hang on, guys!” Mikey vaulted from behind the thing and promptly whipped his nunchukus down onto its back. The hollow smack made Leo cringe. That should’ve hurt very much. But the creature didn’t even flinch; it merely gave an angry snort and grabbed its attacker out of the air in its claws. Mike cried out in pain as he was lowered to eye level.

“MIKEY!” Raph darted in and stabbed his Sai into the thing’s leg. Don and Leo watched in horror as it roared, pitched Mike into the wall, and swiped at the turtle in red. The two shovel-like claws swept Raph off his feet and into the wall with a sickening crack.

Suddenly a current of bright, crackling electricity leapt from out of Don’s peripheral vision. Bishop’s enormous stun gun from way back during the Triceraton invasion. It struck the monster, which bellowed. Don took the opportunity to run with Leo to Mikey. He wasn’t moving.

Leo sucked in a breath. “Don…”

He wasn’t listening. Don knelt to examine his brother. He pressed his fingers to Mike’s neck. Strong pulse. But his breathing was hitching…A hard knock on his cranium jolted him from thought. The culprit was a small rock that had fallen from the ceiling. Don felt panic worm its way into his stomach. The tunnel was coming down around them. It was still unstable after the last cave-in.

The monster bellowed wrathfully. The electricity had done nothing but anger it further.

He had to get Raph. He had to get his brothers out of this mess.

“Leo – “

“I’ll get Mikey, Don,” he interrupted grimly. He started gingerly picking Mike’s unmoving form up onto his shoulders. A tremor wracked the tunnel, raining dust and small rocks down. Leo squinted, winced, and gave Don a prodding look. “Go, get Raph. I’m right behind you.”

He whirled and ran for his other brother. Raph was attempting to stand when he arrived at his side. When Don went to help him up, Raph waved him off gruffly. “’M not a kid, Don, I can walk,” he grunted. Nonetheless, Don gripped him gently under the arm and helped him upright.

“Give me a break, Raph, that thing hit you like you were featherweight,” he replied, glancing toward the epicenter of the mayhem. The monster was still distracted with Bishop. It bellowed and smashed an oncoming vehicle with a downward swipe of its giant claws. Don looked for Bishop but couldn’t see him in the mass of rapidly losing soldiers. The creature lashed out with its right forearm, sweeping some of the men into a wall. A vicious rumble shook the ground.

Vaguely he heard Leo call his name, but he was too busy gazing at the ceiling with wide-eyed horror. It was coming down.

“LEO! Follow me!” Don shouted in panic, making a beeline for his only nearby option. A boulder fell in front of him, the resulting tremor throwing him off balance. The beast roared. Raph gripped at him as they flailed. They were almost to the hole.

The monster screamed in agony. Don looked back. Bishop was standing there with a very large smoking gun. The creature began to thrash uncontrollably, slamming the walls with its massive arms. Raph pushed off the floor to get them closer to their goal. And then they were at the gaping abscess.

The groan of rock on rock filled their ears as they tumbled into the chasm below.

And this is where I stopped originally. Let's hope I can get my butt in gear and keep trucking. XD

LN