Revenge: A Jester fan fic...now I need your help!

[Jester]

hey all I thought I'd try my hand at a fan fic....let me know what you think

Revenge
Chapter One

His hand clenched the wound on his left arm. Blood gushed from the katana gash in his skin. Gotta get away, he thought to himself as he ran down the back allies, gotta find a manhole!! What luck! Not three feet from where he stood a manhole cover glistened in the twilight. He ran for it. Yes! I’m home free, the teen ninja said to himself, I’m gonna make it!!
"HAI!!!" the sounds of his pursuers were getting closer. Michelangelo knew that he had to escape. "All this trouble for a lousy pizza!!" he scolded himself as he raised the manhole cover.
"Where do you think you’re going turtle!!" a voice pierced the darkness. Mikey knew it too well. "Foot ninja, ATTACK!!"
With the orders given dozens of young men dresses in the black Foot uniform jumped from surrounding rooftops. Mikey was surrounded.
"Can we talk??" the nervous turtle questioned his would be attackers. They were stone silent, advancing slowly. "Guess not."
Mikey’s hand reached for his nunchaku. If I’m goin’ down I’m takin’ a few of them with me, he thought. "HAI!!!!"
Mikey lunged at the army of ninjas, nunchakus flashing, bones crushing. Mikey seemed to have the upper hand. Then Hun stepped out of the shadow. "Foot ninja, scatter. Leave the turtle to me!"
Hun’s swung at Mikey with his gargantuan fist, knocking him to the ground. Mikey stood up only to be pummeled relentlessly by Hun’s limbs. Bruised and bleeding, Mikey crumbled to the ground. Then Hun picked the turtle up by his belt. "Tell your brothers that even though they may have taken out the Shredder, I’m far from beaten!!" With that the massive ninja master hurled the turtle against the mossy brick alley wall.
"Foot ninja, vanish!!"
………………..
"Man, where the shell is Mikey, I’m frickin’ starving here."
"Come on, Raph," Leonardo scolded, "he’ll be back soon. You know Mikey, he probably just stopped in at the comic book store to pick up the latest issue of ‘Silver Sentry’."
"I just hope it’s still warm, I still haven’t fixed the microwave!"
"My sons, I sense something has happened to Michelangelo."
"How do you know Master Splinter? Is it an ancient ninja secret?"
"No, even Michelangelo wouldn’t take this long at the comic book shop. Go out and look for him my sons. I feel he may be in grave danger."
"Why does he always have to say that?" Raphael asked his brainy brother. Donatello just shrugged.
………………..
Mikey lay bleeding in the alley. He tried to get to his feet and soon fell to the ground again. My leg, must be broke, he figured, gotta find something to set it with. He glanced around the alley for something suitable for a splint. Nothing. Well, I know the Foot won’t be a threat right now; they want me alive; for the time, but any street punk we’ve tangled with, any Purple Dragon, could take me out now. The manhole!! Mikey remembered the hole he had planed to make his escape through. With this leg though, I’m not sure I can just hop down the manhole, Shell-cell!! Mikey reached for his phone. Crushed. "Uh, stupid Foot freak; smashed my cell. Donny’s gonna kill me, that is if these punks don’t do it first." Mikey looked up as four shadowy figures stepped in to the alley, weapons at the ready.
……………….
"Mikey, man what happened to you?" Casey offered a hand to his reptilian friend and helped him to his feet.
"One word, Hun," Mikey replied, "Can I borrow your hockey stick?"
"Sure, what for?"
"A crutch!" Mikey exclaimed as he fell back to the ground.
"Mikey, let me see that leg," A concerned Donatello knelt over his injured brother. He felt the length of Mikey’s leg. Michelangelo winced at each prod. "Yep, broken in three places."
"Really Don, you didn’t have to poke it to tell it was broken, he’s got two knees. I think it’s broke."
"Ok, so I’m not a P.H.D, so sue me."
"We know who did this but why?" Leo asked his beaten comrade.
"He wanted us to know he’s leadin’ the Foot clan now, we may have beaten the Shredder he said, but ‘I’m far from beaten!’ Muhhahahaha, ohhhhh"
"That Mikey, he’d joke on his death bed," Raphael muttered, "and he may well be."
"Come on, let’s get you home," Leonardo helped his brother to his feet. Donatello offered Michelangelo his shoulder.
"Yes, lets get back to the lair and get that leg set."
Casey Jones mounted his motorcycle.
"Case, where you off to?" Raph inquired.
"I’m gonna teach Hun no one messes with my brothers, no one!"
"I’m goin’ with ya!" Raphael threw on his helmet.
"No you’re not, Raph!" Leo grabbed his brother by the arm.
"Let go of my arm, Leo!!" Raph ripped his arm from his brother’s grip.
"No, Raph," Mikey rasped, "there are too many, you’ll need help."
"He’s right, you know, we should all go. Once Mikey’s leg heals…"
"By the time he heals it’ll be to could be too late!!" Casey erupted. "The Foot and the Purple Dragons will extend their black claw through out the city. More little stores will be burned to the ground, more over overly brave fathers will be murdered standing up to that scum!!" Casey kicked one of the near-by garbage cans. Then he crumpled into a whimpering heap.
"Man talk about you’re total break down," Donny stammered.
"It’s okay Casey, we’ll stop them." Raphael put his hand on his friends back. "With God as my witness, I swear to you Casey, we will crush the Foot once and for all"

Chapter 2
Mikey’s leg soon became strong again but Casey’s prediction had come to fruition. The Foot clan and Purple Dragons had spread across New York City like a plague. They were working storekeepers for "protection" money. Even April wasn’t immune. Her store had once again been reduced to rubble. She escaped and eventually moved in with Casey in his tiny apartment in Queens.
Casey tried to help the as many people as he could, but with the turtles all underground nursing Michelangelo back to health, his one-man crusade proved useless.
Hun had reestablished the Foot complex and was the new kingpin of crime in New York. He kept a public face with a reorganization and restaffing of Stocktronics.
Over the months of Mikey’s recovery Leonardo would watch the news and grow increasingly concerned.
"Casey and I told you it’d be too late, Leo!" Raph poked.
"Stop it Raph, we need Mikey well if we wanted to stand a chance against the Foot…"
"And now we’re gonna need a frickin’ army to stop the Foot!"
"Not necessarily Raph. With the Foot as public as they are, with the reworking of Stocktronics, maybe we can just show how corrupt the Foot really is."
"Yeah we could go all Martha Stewart or Enron on ‘em, real effective Donny!"
"No really Raphy, we just need to figure out a way to do it, to reveal to the world that Hun and Stocktronics are related to the Foot and Dragons and the mob violence that presently engulf the city. It could work, Raph."
"But like you said, how are we gonna do it. It’s not like we know someone in the news biz?"
"April!" Leo chimed in.
"April?" his brothers questioned in unison.
"Yeah, she needs a job and she could help us all at once."
"Now that could work!!" Raphael finally agreed.
……………….
"Absolutly not!!" April exclaimed after the boys explained their plan to her. "I’m a scientist for crying out loud, I’m not a news reporter. I’m terrified when it comes to public speaking, I freeze up."
"You’ll be great babe, prettier than all the other newscasters," Casey leaned in for a kiss. April dodged. Casey falls flat on his face.
"I didn’t ask you, Casey. And don’t call me ‘babe’."
"Help us, April O'Neil," Donatello beckoned, "You're our only hope!"
"When you put it that way. How can I say 'no' to that face." She pecked Donny on the cheek
"Hey what about me?" Casey inquired.
"Drop dead!"
"I love it when she plays hard to get!!"
……………….
"I'm sorry Ms. O'Neil, but you have no prior experience in the field of investigative journalism. We’re looking for someone who’s qualified and quite frankly you’re not it. I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time,” The news manager handed April back her portfolio.
“But Mr. Thompson, I need this job. My shop was burned to the ground due to the escalating gang violence!”
“I understand Ms. O’Neil, I really do, but I’m running a business here and I need the most qualified people to fill theses reporter slots. I’m truly very sorry Ms. O’Neil. “
April stood to leave, “Thanks for your time Mr. Thompson.”
“Send in the next applicant, Irma,” Burne Thompson asked his receptionist.
“Yes, sir,” a cherry voice answered him. “Vernon Fenwick, Mr. Thompson will see you now.”
A tall lanky man rose from his seat in the waiting room and entered the office.
April walked down the hallway, dejected. She had not only failed to land the job but she had failed the turtles as well. As she shuffled down the hall she collided with a short brunette with large horn rimed glasses.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, let me help you,” April reached down to help the woman pick up the folders she had been carrying.
“That’s ok, I should have been watching where I was going. Wait don’t I know you from some where?”
“I’m April O’Neil, I worked at Stocktronics, but now…”
“Oh, that’s right, you came in for a job interview. I thought for sure you’d get the job; I think you’d make a perfect reporter. Oh I’m so sorry I never introduced myself, I’m Irma,” she extended her hand to April. “I’m Mr. Thompson’s assistant.”
“Tell me more,” the excited scientist said as she put her arm around little Irma.