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April O'Neil - Evidence Gathering	By : Nickamano Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 448 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: April O'Neil, the Foot Clan and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and any related materials are not owned by me. This was created for entertainment purposes only, and I am not profiting financially from the creation of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
The Channel 6 studio looked like new. It had been two weeks since the Foot clan attack. And given the form of the assault, especially against the female workers, the studio had remained very tight-lipped regarding the crime. It couldn’t be kept fully out of the press, of course, but motives, identities and the more precisely sexual elements of the attack were not divulged. Even so, there were rumours. Always denied, yet still leaks emerged, drip-fed by police informants, paid-for details by Channel 6’s competitors. There were hacks to the studio’s CCTV cameras but, as the Police had discovered, the data had been deleted. There were no of back-ups, and the origins of those responsible could be traced.

There was blood and other DNA evidence both inside the Studio and in the parking lot outside, but no bodies. No signs of the stolen goods or the vehicles used to transport them. The blood and DNA samples had led the police and press to a number of street kids, and foster kids, most of whom were reported as runaway and classed as homeless and therefore also proved impossible to track down. The investigation went nowhere and the rumours of ‘sexual impropriety’ between hostages and the hostage-takers were never more than rumours.

After that night following the Foot clan’s attack of her place of work, April had seen or heard nothing of the Trench-coat vigilante or his brothers. Numerous times she had thought about taking another trip down into the sewers in search of their lair or den, even going so far as to purchase new protective gear and other supplies, but she had always chickened out before making any steps toward the actual journey into that stinking undercity.
Instead, she got on with her life as best she could. At least she was able to keep up with paying her rent, her landlord was once again sniffing around in search of some way to get his hottest tenant to spread her legs or get her tits out for his cock. It had been quite some time since she had been caught out, after all.

Surprisingly, all the staff of Channel Six were kept on full pay even though the Studio was inaccessible throughout the investigation and the refurbishment that was organised afterwards. However, there were some staffing changes at the station, mostly due to sudden pregnancies.
Dawn Trevas, the nightshift presenter, passionately insisted that her unborn baby could only be Jacob Wyndam’s. However, she flatly refused to allow a DNA test. It ended up with their well-integrated and well-suited working partnership falling apart. Jacob Wyndam walked.
His decision forced Thompson to put Vernon Fenwick onto the nightshift with Trevas on a temporary basis until he could find replacements for both - for Wyndam, who had already been taken on by a rival studio and for Trevas who, at some point, would be taking maternity leave. And at least one of those new hires had to be an attractive young woman, to hold the attention of the nightshift’s small but rabid viewership - Trevas was the one who had always got all the fan mail.

Thompson would have even given little Lili Jane Yu a chance at presenting. She was doubtless more than pretty enough, presentable and eloquent, and also young enough to be paid a pittance. However, she was the other female employee dealt the blow of an unwanted baby forced into her belly.
Lili Jane was utterly inconsolable. Horrified, mostly about how her parents were going to react when she broke it to them. She absolutely was not going to tell them it was the result of a gangrape.
Rumour had it that she offered herself to Thompson, Trevas and Fenwick, all unsuccessfully. And even Collins who had been popped in from time to time, April suspected searching for titbits of juicy gossip. They all fucked poor Lili but none of them gave her even the slightest chance of being trapped into standing in as a father to her baby, which again, had been for her parent’s benefit.
Eventually, Collins offered to pay for a termination for the girl, but only if they go steady (his words), for the next couple of years. He even demanded a lawyer should make up a binding document and insisted she sign it. Of course, it could not be legally binding, but the poor traumatised girl didn’t seem to realise it.
Carrie Herrig was also an extended victim of the Foot clan’s attacks. Though not through pregnancy. The beating she had received and the overtly violent degree of her gangrape had left her recovering in hospital for an extended period. But even after - having physically healed - she had been released from hospital; she was still obviously struggling with the aftereffects of her defilement. Everyone witnessed her jumping at every slammed door, blaring car horn or aggressively noisy passer-by. She quit after only three days back on the job.

April couldn’t understand how she was different. She had experienced the same assault, and more than likely many more throughout her life than the other women, and yet psychologically she felt relatively unharmed. No lasting anxiety, no jumping at shadows, no terror of being in the presence of men who were blatant in their lust for her. She didn’t understand it but she was glad of it. Watching poor Carrie at her security post, she didn’t think she would have been able to function either if she had felt the way Carrie had obviously been feeling.

However, one thing did affect her on the day of the studio’s reopening. There was a staff meeting very much like the last one, though they chose one of the offices rather than a studio. They positioned the plastic chairs in a loose horseshoe facing the office door and passed around their coffees. And then Thompson had opened the door and offered a bow to the man of the other side.
Orokuma Sakiwarui walked into the room and stood with his back to the door.
He cast his dark eyes around the room and when his gaze landed on April, she offered up a hesitant smile but there was nothing in response. It was as though they had never met before, never mind gone out together on dates around the city. Never had that moment of conflict during their walk around Central Park, where he had made her heart flutter like never before.

“Good to see all of you again. I have good news. My company has successfully negotiated a purchase of your Channel 6 studio from your own parent company. So, everyone’s jobs are now secure…”

There was a round of applause, exchanged smiles and a little whoop of jubilation from Vernon. Orokuma paused while they showed their happiness and relief and offered a gracious bow before continuing.

“And within the next few months you will receive an influx of funds from Kirehashi International. We have also been able to assist your old parent company in replacing the stolen hardware like for like, so everything you’re used to is once again available for you.”
“Mr Orokuma, we were under the impression that negotiations had fallen through and you had returned to China?”
“It’s Japan Vernon, you prick!” Irma snapped, blushing either for her own outburst or in embarrassment for their guest.
“After the terrorist attack on the studio and the assault on its workforce. The board reassessed their situation with my company and offered to agree to our original rate for purchase.”
“In other words, they wanted to hand us off like we’re tainted or some bullshit.” Vernon grunted.
“Vernon, will you just let the man speak?!” Thompson said.
“As I said, replacement equipment is being brought in as we speak, and everyone is still under their original contracts at the studio. Now… I am sorry, but I must be on my way. I am heading across to Los Angeles for another meeting and do not wish to miss my flight. Thank you all and you have my commiserations for the events during the attack. I hope your law enforcement professionals can successfully bring those responsible to justice.”

He ended with a deep bow and then Thompson led him out of the room and off down the corridor.

<><><>

April sat at her new studio presentation desk, on her new chair, staring into the new camera. She was about to do her first primetime evening broadcast since the studio had shut down. And the nerves were fluttering.
However, at the same time she felt surprisingly comfortable, familiar setting, familiar desk, familiar chair. Whoever had gone out and found their replacements had done an amazing job.
The same make and model of equipment, computer hardware, chairs and microphones and lighting equipment. It was like the attack had never happened. There was only that telling aroma of fresh paint. And the memories of course, even for April, those were proving hard to shake off. The familiarity was not helping, it felt like there was something niggling that she couldn’t put her finger on. Something about a sense of familiarity with the whole situation that perhaps she should be more aware of. And yet she couldn’t quite grab the end of that thread.

She made an adjustment to her butter-yellow body suit, making sure her outfit-cinched breasts were properly uplifted with plenty of cleavage showing above the terminus of the zipper. She understood as well as anyone, despite Thompson’s constant reminding, that at least a good proportion of her on-screen popularity related to her physical appearance, it would be foolish to deny it.
Getting her head in the game, she shuffled in the familiar seat, remembering to move her shapely hips slightly to the right of where the armrest locked into the seat, where the padding had worn thin and the plastic frame threatened to press into the underside of her right buttock. It was funny that this replacement chair should have the exact same issue as the old one. Maybe it was just an imperfection in the design, a simple flaw that ran right through the line.
She positioned her script prompts to right of centre, flat on her desk where she liked it and then looked up at the teleprompter. The camera was the same make and model too. She remembered a few scratches on the lower left side of the housing. Staring through the familiar glare of the lights, she focussed on that same corner. It was ridiculous of course, there was no way it would be the same camera, the same chair, the same lights they had all been stolen.
She breathed a sigh of relief. No, it wasn’t the same camera housing, there were no telltale scratches visible. Though this replacement one did have stickers instead, coincidentally in more or less the same place. A little collage of garish cartoony stickers. Some Saturday morning cartoon thing - Battletoads - was it? She wasn’t sure.
But then the teleprompter reset. Thompson himself was operating the camera while Vernon was working the nightshift. He threw her a thumbs-up, no doubt starting with a close up on her cleavage before a reverse pan to bring in her face and torso. He was counting down on his fingers. April threw on her most professional yet alluring smile and then started to read from the teleprompter.

“This is April O’Neil, back on the air and excited to once again bring you the Channel Six headlines. We’re back New York, and ready as ever!”

The End.
- 6
- 7
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April O'Neil - Evidence Gathering