* The following material is the continuation of a story that has progressed much further than I ever anticipated taking it. All of the previous fics that I've written were meant to simply flow from one to the next, but the last two before this one pushed me way outside the box that I was used to writing in. As always, I'll do my best to explain some things along the way, just in case newcomers aren't familiar with the story already in progress. But your best bet to understanding our villains (yes, I did say villains, plural), where our turtle friends are at, and who the heck all these OC's are, would be to at least visit the two that lead up to this one. Manhunt set the stage, and Buried continued it. Resolution...will have twists all of it's own. I own none of the TMNT - only a collection of OC's which continues to grow.

Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing. Feedback is so appreciated - the interactive experience is part of what makes this sight so addictive to me. With nothing more to say for the moment, I guess it's just time to hit the ground...running.

The turtle couldn't tell which actually sounded louder in his ears - the rhythmic pounding of his feet across the wet pavement, or the heart-beat in his chest that felt like it had taken on a life of it's own. He'd been running at what seemed a break-neck pace for seven blocks, but could still hear the sound of the canines behind him.

If it weren't for the ridiculous dogs, he could have simply hidden to begin with, but the animals were hot on his shell, and not giving him an easy escape by any stretch of the imagination. Somehow it was much deeper seeded sensation of panic to know that he was being pursued by the NYPD, instead of their typical enemy. He would almost welcome being caught by one of the bad guys right now, rather than by the police.

His glance was suddenly drawn by rapid movement on the block ahead of him, and the turtle immediately realized the humans were trying to cut him off. As he raced by another street camera, he shook his head in frustration. The surveillance tools worked well for the NYPD when they were hunting down suspects, but right now they seriously had the wrong guy.

It appeared that another "Good Samaritan" had phoned 911 for a change, while the turtle had been engaged in breaking up the attempt on someone's life. The police were within two blocks of the scene before he'd even had a chance to finish business with the thugs. The turtle'd had no choice but to flee on foot, along with the rest of the hoodlums.

Unfortunately for him, the K9 units had latched on to his particular scent with a vengeance. As he'd taken off, he had considered hitting the panic button on his watch, but leading his brothers into a pack of police officers was the last thing that he wanted to do.

Now that he had police on foot coming at him from both directions, he was seriously running out of options on this road. He cast a harried glance at the street, and darted out between parked cars, right into oncoming traffic. The turtle fell back a pace to avoid a truck, before sprinting across the street into the west-bound lane. He leaped to clear the hood of a taxi loudly blaring it's horn, and somersaulted back over the hood of another parked car.

"Who is this guy, Superman?" One of the cops demanded of his partner, as they hesitated for a moment for their own chance to get through traffic.

"He'll be lucky if he doesn't get himself killed!" The other exclaimed. "We've gotta get him down before he hurts someone else!"

The turtle had run straight into a pack of pedestrians, slowing down what hope he had of furthering his lead on the police.

"Excuse me, look out, comin' through!" He shouted somewhat apologetically, as he shoved his way through the people.

He'd just barely fought his way through the crowd without actually flattening anyone in his path, when he heard the sharp barking close by again. With a cry of frustration, he jerked around to face the nearest alley. It wasn't a dead-end, it would be able to put him through to the next street. It required a short jaunt toward the dogs that were intent of catching him, and he realized full well he would be cutting it close if he couldn't change directions fast enough.

He gasped harder for air as he raced between the store-fronts, disappointment raging as he was forced to forgo the easy access to the sewers. There was no time to stop, neither was there a fire escape within reach. In the end, he had no choice but to keep going, plowing right through the darkness onto another street.

The road wasn't as heavily traveled as the last, but he could still hear sirens, in addition to the animals that were on his trail. The sight of five men racing up the block made the turtle stop and try to change directions again, before realizing how close one of the dogs had gotten to him. Sharp teeth snapped down on the fabric of his coat, and the turtle realized in that instant that he had one of two choices - either the coat was going down, or he was.

Feeling utterly desperate, he yanked his arms out of the sleeves, and gave the coat a strong flick as he separated from it, forcing the canine to get tangled up in it. Now he really need to get out of sight. The turtle dashed across the road without incident, groaning at the fact that street cameras were capturing his every move.

Aw shell! There's no helping it now - I've gotta keep going!

Coming up on another alley, this time he did see the shadowy outline of a ladder overhead. He scrambled on top of a dumpster, only seconds ahead of the wild beasts trying to pass themselves off as dogs. The turtle leaped to reach the ladder, and climbed hand over hand to get up the fire escape.

A couple of officers attempted to follow him up, while dog handlers stayed on the street to calm down their canines from the chase. The two men were in a perfect position to see their runner actually leap from the building's roof directly to another, and then keep running.

"I think it is Superman." One of them remarked.

His partner shook his head as he listened to the transmission over his radio. "If it is, he's in the wrong costume."

Timothy Long had been waiting with some anticipation in his own squad car, positioned roughly two miles away from where all the action was currently taking place. He was prepared to dive in, just waiting on a little more information before he judged his own move. He sat further upright when a call came over the radio specifically for him.

"This is Captain Long, I copy you...Go ahead and send the footage, I'm set to receive it...He did what? Do we have Spiderman on our hands?...No, Superman jumped over tall buildings in a single bound, not between...Good, let me know the ETA on that chopper...Package is received on my end - keep me up to speed. Over and out."

The man clicked on the file to download the image to his laptop on the seat next to him, and waited for a few seconds for the picture to load. He rocked back and forth in his seat slightly, antsy to get moving and join the chase on their mystery runner. When he squinted to focus on the somewhat awkward image, all at once, he was struck by a familiar element within it.

"What..." He started in disbelief. "Oh my God."

The men on the street had assumed their target was wearing a strange disguise, but Tim had seen this particular creature before.

Timothy slapped his laptop shut, and jumped out of his car. "Oh shoot...how can I..."

To make matters worse at that particular moment, another call was hailing him over his radio, informing him that the helicopter was five minutes away. Tim couldn't stand still, even though he didn't have a clue how he could help the turtle. He looked up at the building he was parked beside, and made a swift decision.

I just hope he stays on this course.

At that particular moment in Chelsea, Donatello was climbing down from making an adjustment over the back door of Luke's Brownstone, and dusted off his hands lightly.

"That should do it Doc. Why don't you go ahead and try it again?"

Luke hit the remote to attempt turning on the camera for the thirtieth time that day, and grinned when the light actually came on. "What would I do without you Donnie?"

"I dunno, you'd probably have to hire someone." Donatello quipped. "But I figure a little 'trade exchange' is completely fair."

"Thanks a lot for getting it back up. It's getting late, isn't it? Wasn't that brother of yours' supposed to be calling?"

Donatello glanced at his watch, brow furrowing slightly when he saw the time. He'd been too busy to notice before. "Yeah...he definitely should have by now. Hang on, I'll see what he's up to. He probably just lost track of time too."

The turtle flipped open his phone, and hit Michelangelo's speed dial. It took four rings to get him to pick up, and when he did, his brother was extremely breathless.

"Donnie, now's not a good time!" Came the slightly panicked voice on the other end.

"What are you doing Mikey?"

"Running! I'll call you back - I gotta go!"

"Mike, where--" Donatello tried to ask, but the phone had already cut off. "Shell!"

"What was that about?" Luke asked him.

"He sounded like he was in trouble Doc!"

"What'd he do, break his watch? He never set it off!"

Donatello didn't answer the man, but quickly darted back through the door into the kitchen, and reached for his laptop on the counter.

"Do you see anything?" Luke asked, after giving him sufficient time to load the search software.

"I'm tracking his implant. He doesn't seem to be hurt, but his vitals are in absolute overdrive. He told me he was running."

"Can you get a fix on his location?"

"I see him Doc, but he's still moving!"

"Grab your scanner and let's get moving too!"

Timothy Long took a deep breath as he adjusted the scope on his rifle, and looked through it experimentally.

Geesh, if I don't get this spot on, I'm gonna hurt somebody. Steady Tim.

Since the chopper had showed up, it had been keeping a strong search light out for the turtle, who by now was too nervous to descend to the street, and be discovered in his own skin. But being chased by a helicopter over the rooftops wasn't exactly much better.

Tim had a good bead on his target, now he just had to work up some serious nerve. Alright Long, you've gotta go for it.

He reached for the radio that was clipped to his shoulder. "City Bird 1, this is Captain Long, do you copy?"

"Roger that Captain, we're still on the hunt, traveling eastbound on Darmouth. We have visual, been authorized to move in with force."

Timothy struggled to keep his voice steady at the last bit of information. "I'm sending you a piece of footage - it's vital that your people see it immediately." He lied through his teeth, for the sole purpose of getting the man to check the onboard computer, and back off of the door.

Long waited a few seconds to make certain the individual was out of the way, and took careful aim through his sight again. He fired a single shot in the direction of the chopper, pumping his fist slightly when it succeeded in shattering the search-light. He felt rather guilty for the panicked transmissions that immediately followed it, but shook his head fiercely. I didn't have a choice.

"City Bird, you might wanna think about relocating, over?" Tim suggested in return.

"Negative, we're going in with flash cells."

Michelangelo had been startled out of his mind by the sound of the rifle, and seriously thought for a moment that he was being shot at. He was further bewildered (but thankful) when the search light lost him entirely. His limbs were burning from exertion, and he was really having to push himself to keep moving now. The chopper hadn't broken off chase, despite the fact that it could barely make out his figure on the rooftop now.

He made the leap to the next building, and clearly heard something falling from overhead. Mike ducked his head close to his chest and kept going, startled by the flashes that immediately lit up the rooftop around him. His attention turned to avoiding what had landed further in front of him, distracting him from realizing what was almost on top of him until it was too late.

He was in mid-stride when another cell struck the roof about a foot away from him, the resulting concussion hurling him forward with sudden force. He expected to hit the rooftop, but was shocked when skylight came rushing up to meet him instead, glass shattering in painful shards as he fell.