Sharpshooter

Epilogue

He knew when he was in trouble and right now he knew. Oh, yes he was in so much trouble that he felt like he was drowning in it. He remained crouched where he was listening to the soft clinking of a teapot, the rustling of paper and the ticking of a clock.

He hated waiting.

Yet he knew he had to. In fact he had every right to be where he was right now. He had failed. Utterly disgraced himself and his Master. The Master, as far as he was concerned, had every right to kill him for what he had done.

It would be better and less painful then some of the other things he had seen him do.

The wait finally came to an end when his Master's voice cut through the stillness of the room like a blade. "Hun," he could hear the anger in his voice and knew that a swift end would not be befitting him. He would be lucky to be killed in the end. He had heard this tone in Saki's voice before when Baxter Stockman had failed him a third time. Baxter had been left as little more then a head in a robotic spider-like shell "Explain to me again why you went against orders and attacked Artemis."

"Master, I…" he wanted to say something to defend himself but he couldn't. Everything that came to his mind he knew would be too trivial and too small to justify his actions. "I-I didn't think the Foot should have had to employ an assassin. The death of the turtles should be by your hands and not by some hired gun's."

Again the silence filled the room as Hun continued to stare at the floor. He heard a pen scrapping along some paper followed by the faint sound of a tea cup being picked up, sipped and then set down. He forced himself to swallow to try and relieve his dried mouth.

"That is your excuse for coasting me fourteen ninja squads?! Blacklisting me from contracting an assassin again?! And possible have the Guild take action against me?!" Saki's voice half screamed out through the room causing Hun to jump. The dull thud of the desk being pounded came to his ears. A loud crash occupying the thump told Hun that the tea cup had been up seated and had rolled off the desk to land on the floor.

"Y-yes, Master," he ducked his head lower to the floor and waited to hear out his punishment. Would he lose an eye like Stockman did? Would a limb be taken? Would he be forced to tear out his own liver? Whatever it was he knew it wouldn't be a swift death. His actions deserve the most horrendous and unspeakable death to be dealt out by the Foot.

Seppuku.

"Luckily for you," Saki's voice was so quiet that Hun barely heard him over the thundering of his own heart. "You are to important for me just deal out a proper punishment. This time you are lucky. Next time it will be your life!"

If possible Hun bowed down further, knowing that he had been exceedingly lucky this time. He didn't feel as though he deserved his Master's forgiveness but he wasn't about to complain about it either. "Yes Master."

His mouth felt like someone had poured a truck load of sand in it before filling his muscles with cement. Everything seemed to ache and protest at the very thought of moving. His eyes felt they had been glued shut and the world sounded like it came through cotton batting that someone had stuffed his ears with.

As he started to come around more and more he became more aware of his surroundings. He was laying down on something soft and a fuzzy blanket had been spread out over him. Something was on his hand keeping him from moving it even more then a few inches at a time. He could feel bandages still wrapped around the injuries on his leg and shoulder. There also was an instant yet familiar sound that seemed to buzz in his ears.

He frowned trying to decipher the noise only to have it suddenly stop. That annoyed him to no end. How was he supposed to figure out that noise if it just went away on him?

Then the noise came back, calm and soft enough that he realized the canopy of noise before was from many sources. This was obviously from one source and it sounded like a voice. A very familiar voice that reminded him of comfort and safety. It seemed that with that thought Donatello's hearing was suddenly back. "Donatello. Donatello. It's time to wake up, my son."

Then a name popped into his mind and magically his jaws seemed to work. His voice sounded odd to his own ears but he was able to force out, "M-Master Splinter?"

A collective sigh that sounded like a balloon letting out all its air rippled through the room. A gentle paw touched the side of his face, "My son, can you open your eyes?"

It took him a few tries but finally his eyes blinked open to see his Master and Father watching him patiently with a smile on his face. After a moment he saw a slight movement off to the one side and turned his eyes to look at whatever it was. It turned out to be Mikey who was shifting impatiently from foot to foot obviously waiting for something. His eyes then went from him to his other two brothers, Casey, April, Leatherhead and finally to Honeycutt who was standing opposite from Master Splinter. They all seemed tense and waiting for him to do something. Licking his lips he said the only thing he could think of, "Hey, w-what's everyone looking at?"

"Donnie!" Donatello figured that he would have been squashed under his younger brother had Leo and Raph not grabbed him and held him back.

"How are you feeling?" Honeycutt asked as he leaned over him looking at his half lidded eyes.

"Tired," he shifted slightly under the sheets and moaned. "And sore. What happened?"

"You've been overdosed on Methaqualoe," Honeycutt said calmly. "Other then the wounds on your shoulder and thigh you seem to be fine if a little dehydrated."

Don nodded his head while he thought about that. "And Artemis?"

"Don't know," Leo said with a sigh. "I tried to go back for her but Bishop had already screwed her up pretty bad."

"Bishop?"

"Yeah, from what we can tell he found out you were at that warehouse and went to get you. Artemis and him got into a fight over ya," Raphael said with a shrug. "Don't worry Leo said they took each other out in the end so no worries."

"What happened to her?"

Leo sighed and looked off to the side to avoid every ones' looks but especially to avoid eye contact with Donnie. "Let's just say I don't think she wouldn't have enjoyed life if she had survived."

"Yeah, cause I would have pounded her into the ground for grabbing Donnie in the first place."

"How did she die? What do you mean by 'she wouldn't have enjoyed life'?"

Don's question was soft but more then audible for every one to hear. Leo looked at his brother and noticed the slight gleam in his eye meaning he wasn't going to be dropping this anytime soon. Leo sighed, "When I found her, it looks like she had shot Bishop several times in the head. The left side of her head and face was coated in blood but it didn't appaer to phase her." Leo closed his eyes, "What really would have been hard for her was that it looked like Bishop had somehow managed to take of her arm from about mid-bicep down." He spared his family the gorier details. He had seen the burns on her arm.

"She died?"

"Dude, she had a building that was on fire fall on her. Humans don't normally survive that with or with out the whole on flames part."

Donatello leaned back slightly into the pillows. He found it hard to believe that Artemis would get into a fight with someone like Bishop. She knew she wasn't a good fighter in hand to hand combat. She had said so herself. Bishop as way out of her league yet she had still fought him? Why?

He thought back to their last conversation. She had admitted to saving him and giving him medical attention. When he had made the comment of her getting rid of him she had denied rather venomously. She had even gone so far as to suggest keeping him as a pet. That was when Don realized that there was one big difference in Artemis between when they fought in April's apartment and to their last talk.

Her eyes.

During their fight her eyes had been hard and distance as if she was locking away part of herself to be able to kill him. When she had been laying against him in bed though her eyes looked like more like a child's, innocent and scared. Don wondered if she even had a chance to fully grow up before she became an assassin. She had seemed awfully young to him, no more then mid twenties and even then that would be to the highest end of the scale.

"Donatello? Are you alright?"

"Don't tell me yer upset she died!"

Don hadn't realized his eyes were closed until Honeycutt asked him the question. Blink his eyes open he looked first to the Professor then to his brother, giving him an exasperated look. "I'm just really tired and, yes, I am kind of upset she died."

"What the fuck, Don! She cut you up, drugged you, kidnapped you and held you prisoner for three days and yer upset she died?!"

"I don't think she was ever really given a chance to grow up Raph."

"What the hell makes you say that!" Raph was clearly upset and at a complete loss as to why Don would be sad that the assassin had died.

"Come," Leatherhead's voice suddenly said sensing that the argument was getting on everyone's nerves. "We should give Donatello a chance to rest. Now that he has awaken he should be fine." The large crocodile then began to herd Donatello's family out of the room making sure that Raphael was going along too.

"You could see it in her eyes," Donatello said just loud enough for his brother to hear before he and the family was forced to leave. Alone and in the relative silence of the medical room, Donatello fell asleep quickly wondering if he was giving enough time could he have been able to talk Artemis out of killing him and his family and leading a normal, peaceful life.

The charred remains sat on the table, barely in the recognizable form of a human. There was evidence that the figure had been wearing some form of armor, the metal was melted onto the corpse, making it little more then a pile of slag instead of actual human remains. There were also signs that the person had been killed before being torched. There were nine separate bullet wounds that had made hits ranging from the collar bone to the upper jaw.

Never the one to look away from a possible scientific discovery, Stockman had been both disgusted and shocked at the remains of his current employer. The fact that anyone was able to kill Bishop proved that the person was good. Judging by how many times he had been shot and the extent of the damage, Stockman figured that the person had to have phenomenal skills to be able to fire off nine rounds into the agent's head before he could react to their presences.

After he had finished his analyst of the corpse, Stockman began to move about the lab. His massive robot body moving with precision and care around the delicate instruments as he prepared to resurrect Bishop. He was a bit skeptical when the Captain, Bishop's right hand man, told him that the agent could be brought back to life. With all the alien technology he was just beginning to understand he was sure that it was possible and began researching away to do it.

It wasn't that Baxter liked Bishop any more then he liked Shredder or Hun but there were some perks to working with the government agent. The biggest perk was all the knowledge he was gleaming from the alien tech he had authorization to. One day, when he was finally free from being Bishop's pawn, he would show the world what Baxter Stockman was really capable of thanks to all the wonderful new knowledge he was slowly compiling.

Another advantage to working with Bishop was that the agent had the technology required to build a human body.

When his body had been slowly destroyed, piece by piece, by the Shredder for his repeated failures he had always dreamed of getting it back somehow. Bishop had the means to do this and to satisfy his own ends Stockman had agreed to help him if only so he could one day walk again as a human. Then he would take revenge against everyone who had laughed at him.

Especially those meddlesome turtles and that snot nosed red head!

With the tubes and electrodes in place and a premade test tube clone of Bishop resting on a table next to his remains, Baxter moved over to the labs command board. Bishop's unique DNA allowed his consciousness to be past through and electrical current into another body. It was a painful procedure but with the agent technically being dead it shouldn't feel the pain. His brain had been completely untouched by the bullets the agent should be awake in the next few moments.

Theoretically, it should work.

Flipping a massive switch that reminded him of something straight of the novel Frankenstein, Baxter listened as the massive electron emitted attached to the ceiling began to hum. A second later a current was emitted through the series of electrodes connected to Bishop's remains before the charge returned to the generator. The charge barely paused for a second before being admitted into the waiting clone still on life support.

He flipped the switch back, turning the generator down before walking over to the table. It had yet to show any signs of life but Baxter was a scientist and knew how to be patient. He didn't have to wait long before the clone's eyes snapped open and briefly glanced around the room as if seeing where it was.

Still Baxter waited. Just because it was functioning didn't mean that Bishop's conscious thought had been transferred. Of course if it hadn't been there was no way to try and repeat the procedure. Bishop's remains had liquefied into a pile of purplish slop making it impossible to try again.

The clone sat up and began to pull the tubes and electrodes attached to it's body. An all to familiar scowl was on its face reassuring Baxter that his boss was back among the living. "Enjoy your nap, I assume?" he asked in a bored tone. There was no sense in enjoying the fact that he had just brought someone back from the dead. After everything he had seen since working for Bishop he would have been surprised if Bishop hadn't woken up.

Bishop just gave him a scowl before swinging off the table. He stretched his muscles as he walked over to the scanner. Baxter rolled his eyes and followed. After a complete scan came back with negative results for Bio rejection he addressed Bishop again. "There are no signs of infections, Bio rejection or any other problems with this body." Bishop huffed and walked over to where a shirt waited for him on a table. "Don't I get a thank you or some other form of verbal response?" Stockman said as the agent began walking out of the lab shrugging on his coat.

Bishop paused at the door as it swished open. Turning enough so that he could face Baxter the agent said, "Why should I thank you for doing your job?" With that he walked out of the lab. The door closed behind him with a nearly silent swish.

"Hump," Baxter said folding his robotic arms in front of him. "Ungrateful bastard."

The shades were drawn blocking out the light and humidity as the temperatures sky rocketed into the nineties. This caused the room to be cast in shadows and filled with gloom but kept it at an acceptable temperature for the figure working out in the dark. A cell phone began ringing, blaring out the Mission Impossible theme song, but was studiously ignored by the person at the punching bag.

Left kick, right kick, followed by a punch that spun her around so she could elbow the defenseless bag. She went through the familiar routine of her workout as if it was second nature. There was just one thing throwing her off balance and slowing her down but it was a minor annoyance.

She suddenly back flipped, her feet just barely missing the bag. She landed in a hand stand grabbing the blade that had been on the ground behind her before flipping back onto her feet. She stood and began twirling the blade around her fingers as if it was a baton and not a deadly instrument.

She flipped it forward and back so that the blade lay along her forearm before twisting around in a high kick that would have been level to someone's head. She continued to fight against her unseen opponents using a variety of kicks at different heights and styles as well as slashes, stabs and blocks with her wakizashi. The kata she preformed was very complex but well known to her and done with precision.

She had changed up the ending. Instead of landing in a crouch with both hands brought in front of her as if holding a pair of guns, she flipped the spinning short sword up into the air as she spun around underneath it. It came back down, still flipping end over end, and she caught it at about eye level. Faster then the average person could blink it was gone from her hand again, sailing across the room to embed itself in the wall at about neck level to the average adult. She followed it, winding back and punching the punching bag with all her strength.

Only to begin cursing when her hand went through it up to her elbow.

Grumbling under her breath, she tried to pull it free with no success. The chain of the bag kept giving ground as she pulled and yanked at her arm. Finally, she gave up and placed both knees on the bag to try and pull herself free. It had worked in the past when she had done this. It proved effective once again as she fell onto her back on the floor accompanied by the sand that oozed from the hole like blood from a wound.

She propped herself up on her elbow looking at the fifth destroy punching bag in less then a month. "I go through more punching bags that way," she said out loud to no one in particular. She flipped herself back to her feet and looked at the bag with a smile. "I guess I don't know my own strength anymore."

Her gaze then went to her new arm. It was said to be impossible but if there was one thing she liked to do it was making the impossible possible. From about middle of her upper arm down to her hand was nothing but finely tuned, handcrafted animatronics all working in perfect symmetry. The metal 'arm' appeared to be an arm in shape and movement right down to four jointed fingers and a thumb. The circuitry was connected to the nerves in her upper arm so that the arm worked the same as her biological arm had before it had been removed.

Of course her new arm came along with some set backs. It was heavy. Even with it being constructed out of poly carbonic steel to help reduce the weight, the arm still weight almost forty two pounds. She only just began to learn how to deal with compensating for her balance when in combat.

Another point of concern was the sheer strength it wielded and her inability to actually feel anything with the arm. While being able to punch through certain objects was cool, she had discovered that if wasn't actively paying attention she could crush something without even realizing it. If she needed to use her finer motor controls to repair her scope's computer she had to be extra cautious as not to bend part of the gun or snap an innocent tool in half. If she could feel through the metal this wouldn't be a problem but there was no way to make metal feel.

She walked over to her wakizashi still sticking in the wall and pulled it free from the wall. She really didn't have much to complain about. She had her arm back. She could keep doing her 'night job'. She knew that the more she used the arm the better she would understand how to work around its disabilities.

It had been almost three months since she had actively taken a job. With the whole design process and construction of the arm she was surprised it hadn't taken longer. She was done with the preliminary testing, next would be the field test.

Something whispered through her mind as she tucked the blade away in its sheath. She should practice by going back to New York, finding that mutant and hrottling him until he told her what the hell had happened to her. That stupid over protective tendency she had for him nearly cost her life.

As it was she had been so close to giving up that she been ready to accept her death and was waiting for it. If his brother had tried to come after her she would have died. But seeing him risk his own life for her had given her a purpose to escape. She had to find out why she wanted to protect him and why his brother had come back for her in turn.

She knew better then to go after them right away. She needed to learn to use her arm all over again. She had to be in the best condition to take them on, they now knew her tactics for the next time around. If she went in half prepared and handicapped like she was they would easily defeat her and then turn her in.

And that was something to avoid at all costs.

The cell phone began ringing again, filling the room with the merry tune. She walked towards it with a purpose. It was time to stop convulsing and get back into the game. She scoped the phone up with her human hand and flipped it out without a second's hesitation. "You have ninety seconds to catch my interest," Artemis said with a smile of anticipation on her lips.

The goddess was back on the hunt.

Sorry, I became too attached to Artemis after reading the live preview of the final chapter to let her die (yes, originally she was going to stay dead). I really like her and I love how she interacted with the turtles. And how could I kill Bishop? He's my favorite villain of all times

Bishop: Indeed.

Uhhh… O-kay… So, yeah, I think I'll make a sequel. Maybe… depends on how I feel and if I can find inspiration for it.

Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!