No Second Troy
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
--William Butler Yeats
"Where is he now?" Mike asks, leaning over Don's shoulder.
"Out of the building. If he's smart, he's working on tracking down the signal from the
walkie-talkie." Don glances back at Byron, who's sitting with his arm around Mgume,
trying to soothe her.
Raph grabs the night-vision goggles off his forehead, takes them to the window. "Ya
know, we coulda used another pair of these..."
"Shoulda sent us a telegram, we woulda ordered 'em," Mike jokes. "You know, give us a
little prior notice...you see anything?"
"No." Raph turns back to Don, still typing furiously. "You patching back in?"
"Yeah...I want to see if they've still got anything useful..."
"They better," Byron groans..."if he took those keys..."
"What, you want 'em to have the keys?"
Byron nods. "There's more to it than--"
A sound downstairs; they tense, wait.
It seems like eternity passes by, nothing but silence, no screaming, no crying, no
shots...
"Hello? This is Captain James Dominguez, of the NYPD. He's dead. You can come out
now. It's safe..."
"Jesus," another voice says, "we gotta get the paramedics--"
"Angela?"
"I'm here--"
"Oh, thank god, thank God you're all right..."
"Ma'am?" The voice that called for the paramedics, a tall guy, another cop...
"I'm here," she says, climbing out from under the tablecloth, "my daughter's here,
somewhere..."
"Mama," Angela says, materializing from the shadows, and she grabs the girl, the two of
them hugging each other tight.
"C'mon," the cop says, "let's get you out of here..."
"I bet yer pal's coming right after ya..."
"He'll know it's a trap," she spits.
"But for a sweet little thing like you, ya gotta take some risks..."
Don catches Raph's eye, draws a finger across his throat.
"Just tryin' to scare her a little," Raph says defensively.
Don repeats the gesture, more violently this time. "We'll just get a look at him, get an
idea of what we're up against. You take the back. Mike, get the front, and I'll stay up
here, hold the fort down--"
"Sounds like a plan," Mike says, starts down the stairs.
"Yell in those earphones if something goes wrong, Don," Raph says.
"Do your job, I won't have to," he snaps back, more out of habit than irritation.
Raphael can't really hear him coming up the stairs; it's more of a sensing, feeling the
slight vibrations, almost trying to feel the air he's displacing. Easy enough to tell when he
gets to Raph's floor, but he wasn't expecting the attack, steel meeting steel-- a katana,
two-handed, fast, good technique, why does it feel like he's done this before--
The hood slips from his opponent's arm for a second and he sees a flash of green.
"Shit."
His opponent hesitates. "Raph?"
Raphael pulls the fabric back from his face. "In the flesh. Shoulda known it was you
when she said you were more of a warrior than I'd ever be..."
Leo sheathes the katana, shrugs the hood back, smiles. "She said that?"
"Among other things...gotta temper on her, guess it's not surprising with her
bloodline..."
"You know."
"Byron said...Malcolm, you probably know him as..."
"How did you--"
"I got a couple of those for you, too," he says. "C'mon, come up, we've been going nuts
tryin' to figure out who the hell you were..."
"No," Leo says simply.
"What?"
"I can't...I shouldn't see any of you." He looks away from his brother, avoiding Raph's
eyes.
"Leo...what's goin' on?"
"I gotta price on my head."
"Casey," she says, "put that down."
"What is it?" he asks, opening the envelope.
"Raphael's stuff. Casey--"
"Why do we have it?"
"Case something happened tonight. C'mon, Casey--"
He frowns. "Didn't know Carlos had an uncle."
"I told him we wouldn't--"
"What's it doin' with us, anyway?"
"I told him we'd take Carlos if--"
"You did?"
"Well, yeah--" What else would she say?
"Why'd he ask you?"
"You weren't here," she says, snatching the envelope. He grabs one last paper from the
pile.
"What's this-- bank statement?"
"Casey, willya just put it back?"
"Holy shit." He points at a number, what, half-a-million? No, more than that...
She grabs the paper out of his hands. "It's not American dollars, I'm sure..."
"April, did you have any idea he had this kind of money?"
"Maybe it was in yen, I mean, a thousand yen or something's like a dollar..." or
maybe, more likely, it's in pounds, or marks...
"April?"
"I...I don't know, he told me he I didn't have to worry about the rent, and I didn't figure it
was any of my business..."
"How much?"
"Sixty million yen."
"That's all?"
"They want her. I'm just...an inconvenience."
"You two..."
"I'm her sensei. I took her on as my responsibility...so I've got to be responsible for
her."
"We've been through a lot worse than that, Leo."
"Yeah, but it was us then. Mike's got the wife, and the kid..."
"And Don's got the boyfriend we just pulled outa that warehouse..."
"That's different...boyfriend?"
"Yeah. And it's not different."
"Look, Raph, will you just..."
"No. I won't. You can't just waltz in and out of our lives whenever you friggin' feel like
it. You're gonna have to come back and put up with everybody's shit and eat tofu sausage
whether ya like it or not."
"Tofu--?"
"Long story. Look, Leo--"
"I'm taking Mgume and I'm leaving, all right?"
"No."
"Raph--"
Raphael's jaw tightens. "I've kicked your ass before, I can do it again..."
"When are you gonna learn that you can't always get your own damn way?"
"What does this have to do with my way? What about your niece, what about
your nephew, they've never even met you..."
Leo, confused, asks, "Did Mike and Maureen--"
"Mine, Leo. My son."
"When--"
"What does it matter, Leo? You're not gonna be around, why the hell do you care?"
"Raph, you know I care--"
"Enough to cut and run. Thanks, Leo. I'm really grateful." He turns away, opens the
door to the stairs. "Look, you want her, come up and get her. At least face us all before
you take off."
"Raph-- wait. Don't go. Please."
He half-turns back to his brother. "What?"
"I..." Leonardo hesitates, looks at Raph's face, equal parts anger and pain. "I'll come up
with you."
"God," April says. "That's Baxter. What the hell--"
"Baxter?"
"Baxter Stockman," she says. "You remember, he tunneled under a buncha buildings in
the city, threatened to blow 'em all up...the guy with the mousers."
"He's the one that tried to kill you?"
"Yeah," she says. "But he was never...I mean, he'd plan this stuff, he wouldn't just go into
a restaurant and..."
"April?" Maureen's voice. "Casey? Could one of you guys get the door?"
"Yeah," Casey says, gets up. "Everything okay? You sound like..."
She's holding Angela, shaking so much Casey takes the girl from her arms. "Stockman,"
she says. "Baxter Stockman. He was the one who--"
"Yeah," Casey said. "He sent a buncha mousers after her, tried to run her down--" He
stops as it hits him. "You were there, huh?"
"Yeah," she says, and he holds out an arm to her, gives her something to lean on. "We
were there."
April and Casey let Mgume sleep in the spare room, tell Leo he can have the couch,
and go to bed, leaving Raph and Leo to stare at each other, trying to figure out where to
start.
"She's right, ya know," Leo says, digging in the fridge and finally finding some iced tea.
"Not like Baxter to go psycho and start shooting--"
"Fuck that, why the hell did anyone let him out?"
"Said they'd cured him--"
"He almost took out one of the twin towers--"
"And if he was an Islamic militant he'd be dead by now, I'm fully aware of that--"
"It's only been ten years, fer cryin' out loud. Willya pour me a glass of that?"
"Yeah. Is it good?"
Raph shrugs his shoulders. "Casey made it. You've been warned."
Leo looks skeptically at the pitcher, pours two glasses anyway, carries them back to the
couch. "How they doin'?"
"Good. Real good, far as I can tell-- I ain't been back that long myself."
"They give you a warmer welcome than this?"
"Mike did, 'course Maureen was in a little better shape then..." She'd collapsed into his
arms the second they were in the door, half an inch away from hysterics, and he'd
grabbed her and the kid and taken them home. Probably just as well. Don hadn't even
bothered coming down to Casey and April's apartment, he'd just taken Byron upstairs.
Considering the shape Byron was in, no one would blame him...but they all knew there
was more. Leo rests the glasses on the coffee table.
"And Don was okay. Not jumpin' up and down or anything, but okay. Course I think he
kind of expected me to run..."
Yeah. One of the many things Don had said to Leo the night he left...Look, Raph's
always been looney, but you? What the fuck, Leo, when ya finally got somebody who
needs help you run out like...
"...and I had Carlos with me at the time, which didn't hurt, the kid breathes
charisma..."
"Carlos? Oh, your son...you don't want to tell me how that happened, do ya?"
"Sure," Raph says. "Soon as you tell me where you've been--"
"Japan."
"Right. His mother's dead."
Two dead ends; back to the original subject. "But Mike's okay?"
Though he knows that isn't true, either; when he'd asked where the costumes came from,
the all-black full-body things they were wearing, Mike had answered simply, "Maureen
made 'em. You know, my wife?" Leo'd gotten the hint: the one you said I'd
never have.
"I didn't say that, I said he gave me a warmer welcome than you got..." He picks up the
iced tea, takes a long drink, smiles at it wryly. "Not bad for Casey...look, if ya wanna
know how he really felt about the whole thing--" he puts the glass down, gets up,
goes to the living room bookshelf. "Here it is." He shows Leo the cover.
Leftovers, by Michaelangelo Hamoto. "The story of two abandoned comrades,
tryin' to make it the best they can in a hard, cold world. He wrote This is for us
on Don's copy...Mike wrote it all out, and Don's still simmering over it. For the most
part. Far as I can tell. Wouldn't piss Maureen off anytime soon, either..."
"Papa?"
"Carlos, whatcha doin' up?"
"Heard you," he says in Spanish, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"You wanna meet your uncle Leo?" Carlos smiles, and Raph picks him up, plonks him
next to his uncle. "I gotta run to the bathroom; you two get acquainted, okay? Try to
remember he can't speak Spanish..."
"My Papa's told me all about you," Carlos says, looking up at him with something like
wonder.
"Yeah, I bet he has," Leo says dryly.
"He says you're very brave."
"Yeah?"
"He told me he wants me to grow up as brave as you are. And as smart..."
"As me?"
Carlos nods.
Leo looks into his eyes, clear and dark and sincere. You sure your old man's not just
puttin' you on?
"God, Mike, I just...I just...I can't believe the way I panicked. I mean, I'm supposed to
be looking after her, and she...she's the one that took care of me..."
"C'mon, sugar. It's okay. We all panic sometimes, even the four of us...maybe ya oughta
talk to April, she got real scared once..."
"Yeah, she was saying...but Mike, I don't even know..."
"What, Maureen?"
"I mean, I don't know if I can handle this...this life..."
It hits him like a blow, like he's just been kicked...he turns so he can look into her eyes.
"Maureen?"
"Whatcha want?"
"New skin would be nice, I could just peel this one off...could ya get me one with some
hair on it, while you're at it?"
"Why'd they--?"
"Electrodes connect better that way. Oh, yeah, and I don't think I'm gonna be able to
handle pluggin' anything in for a while. And I think I'm gonna go back to painting...no
more wiring, not for a while..."
"Byron..."
"'Salright. I'll be all right, just...just not tonight." He leans back, covers his face with his
hands.
"What can I do?"
"Hold me?"
"Do you...do you want me to go?"
"Oh, Mike..."
"If that's what you want...I...I..."
"No, no, Mike, don't, no, that's not what I want..." but he's already crying, she takes him
in her arms, feels him sobbing.
"Whatever you want, Maureen," he half-whispers, "whatever makes you happy..."
"You could teach me Japanese, and I could teach you Spanish..."
"That might just be a plan, Carlos."
Raph stands back in the kitchen, watching them, smiling. Leo's got his arm around
Carlos now, ruffling his curls, that serious expression even relaxing once in a while.
"No, no, I don't want you to leave, that's the last thing I want, dammit Mike..."
He clutches her tighter, takes in a breath that's almost a gasp.
"Mike, I'm just afraid..."
"What?"
"I don't want to be useless. I don't want to be a liability...I could get somebody
killed, Mike, you say it's all half-seconds and bad moves..."
"And luck, baby, you two got lucky...if Angel hadn't seen him pulling the gun-- if you
were at a different table there'd be no way...you can't say what's gonna happen, Maureen.
You just can't..."
"So why didn't you come back sooner?"
"Stubborn, I guess. Didn't want anyone to think I was a failure..."
"No more of a failure than I am..."
"Right, Leo. You didn't kill anybody--"
"Did you?" Leo strokes Carlos' hair; the boy fell asleep in his arms a long time ago.
Raph looks out the window. "Yeah. I did. I don't know. Maybe..."
"What happened, Raph?"
"You tell me, I'll tell you..."
"I don't have the energy, Raph. Not even to think about it."
"Feels like something's been ripped out outa ya," he says. "And everything hurts. And it's
all ya can do just to haul yer ass outa bed in the morning..."
"Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery..." Leo says softly.
"What's that?"
"Yeats."
"You hear about it every day," Raph sings, "good lovin' gone bad..."
Leo laughs in spite of himself.
"C'mon, we'll go to bed, maybe I'll soothe ya..."
"Soothe me?"
"You know, rub your back, help ya with those clothes..."
"God, Mike, you and your one-track mind--"
He grins. Least he's gotten her mind off the bad stuff. "Hey, I bet you got some leftover
adrenaline you're just dying to get rid of..."
She sticks her tongue out at him and he kisses her, moving closer to her, pulling her
close, feeling her warmth, her softness...
Byron stirs in his sleep and Don tightens his embrace. His body's screaming for a
cigarette, but he's determined to ignore it. They say ya gotta go cold turkey, he
thinks. Might as well start now.
"no," Byron whispers, "oh god no..."
Don touches his shoulder. "Byron. Wake up. Just a nightmare, just a dream, you're
safe..."
He wakes with a gasp, clutches Don's arm. "Shit...
"It's all right, Byron, just a dream..."
"Oh, Don, oh god oh don't let go..."
"I won't, I won't. I promise...I love you, ya know..."
"I love you, Don..." He closes his eyes, touches Don's skin, rough and warm, all those tiny scars...
"Byron?"
"Yeah?"
"We ever said that before?"
"Don't think so."
"'Bout time, huh?"
April's in a restaurant, a glitzy one, she's in some kind of gown, silver lame. She's sitting down, and they bring her her entree, but it's not what she ordered, it's living still,
bleeding all over the plate-- it throws blood onto her dress, the silver staining dark, and she screams, but no sound comes out. The waiters come, they apologize, they give her a napkin and she looks back at the plate...there's a head there. Baxter's.
And he opens his mouth, and speaks.
"It's not over yet."
Casey's voice breaks in. "Baby, wake up, it's a nightmare--"
"Casey, Casey, oh God--"
"What?"
"There's more," she says, "oh, God, there's more--"
