Senseless Reckoning Notes 6 - Intermission
Yes, lots of time passed again. Sorry all. Although the spring/summer months have nearly everyone busy as far as I can tell so I'm sure this isn't a big let down that my chapters aren't getting updated weekly. I should know - as people don't seem to have the time to review! O.o
Anyway, I have some news. :P
Last time I posted I was entirely amused at the sighting of the almost Bumblebee Camaro replica that I oddly followed for a ways. That's not the end of that story! I had went to a comic book convention the day after that and saw YET ANOTHER Bumblebee Camaro! This one was the 2009 version and as far as I could tell, had ALL the bells and whistles to make it the perfect replica of TF2 BB. (the first one I saw had a T top) So that was fun. I got to see two BB in a matter of two days. Anyway, continuing on. Browsed around the comic book convention. Good times. Then two days after the Con I was browsing Craigslist and stumbled upon a listing for a comic book artist. If anyone has bothered to read my bio, which I don't blame you if you hadn't -_- I am more of an artist than I am a writer (obviously, my grammar not great). That said, I am now currently working on a comic book! Which is thus why my time has been eaten up so badly as of late. Stay tuned! I will totally be raving once it gets published, I'm sure!
Anyway: the following is my notes for what goes on inside of Washington during the last few chapters of Senseless Reckoning. However, this isn't a point of view within my story, so I'm putting it off to the side.
Onwards.
"We have visual. We're circling around now." He then blurted out the next bit. "Oh shit!"
"What is it?" The commanding officer stepped closer to the man who had his attention fixed on his computer and headset.
"We just had one transform."
That counted as an oh shit! "Are they attacking?"
"No, hold on. Echo Two, report?"
"It's the Silver Stingray!" Another member of the operations panel twisted in her chair.
"Shit." The Commander muttered. Per his briefing, it was known that the silver robot had attacked before. Though he wasn't going specifically after humans, he was leaving innocent civilians affected in the wake of his destruction. "What about the others?"
"Uh, sir? I'm getting back that they're," a pause for his mind to sink in the information, "quarrelling." The puzzled look on his face expressed it so.
"What?"
"They're, screaming at each other." To clarify farther, "they're arguing."
"Hold visual. Do not engage unless they engage first! We want to keep casualties to a minimum." And that won't happen if we force a fire fight. It was better for no fight to break out at all.
Mere minutes that felt like eternities passed by. To bide his time and his fear the Commander strolled through the isles examining the information presented as well as the many people working on gathering the intel. Many cameras and eyes were fixed on the rage the silver mech was unleashing on -oddly- his fellow robots. Oddly, the others seemed puzzled as to what they should do about the situation. A forth was adamant to subdue the confrontation and eventually another one, pink, approached to try and calm the silver one down. His eyes twitched at the inconceivable interaction happening between the machines. Or perhaps not so inconceivable, the previous NEST personnel had all scarified themselves to harsh punishments in order to protect their 'friends'. All firmly establishing that these metallic - creatures - were not that entirely different from humans. Emotionally wise perhaps?
With his thoughts returning to the monitor, the silver creature settled as the pink one reached out to him. It then folded back up into an unassuming car. It followed the police cruiser as it attempted to exit stage left. The man stood their stunned. The pink creature had calmed him down. Perhaps not unlike how a human interaction would pan out.
"Ground Team Alpha has just confirmed visual."
The call came from a single Humvee crew that refused to let the aliens elude them. Once again, the aliens disguised as cars reacted. Two tore off the other way, the yellow Camaro then made several attempts to stop them. The other vehicles tore into the landscape now alarmed at the three vehicles departure. They really were in disarray. He feared what continuous pressure would cause them to do. Would they go into fight or flight mode. If they can't escape then the out come would be-
Catastrophe.
Quickly thinking through his information, his knowledge and his experience, he came up with a hard and surprising decision.
"Fall back."
"What?" Someone gawked and spun to face him.
"I said fall back!" That's really the only thing he could think of to elevate pressure on them. He didn't like the decision, but hounding them until one really did snap wasn't going to be an option. He then stepped forward and begun changing protocol to try and follow them by other means.
What he didn't realize was that there were others in the room who were already using other means to track the aliens.
Now seeing the most opportune time, one man slipped out of the room. He could feel the pressure too, so he reached up and loosened his neck tie. That done, he strolled down the halls in the most assuming way possible. Once out of sight he raced down the hall. Finding a room that seemed unassuming he slipped inside.
He frantically pulled out a cellphone. "Yeah, this is Stephens!" He hollered into his receiver. "It's a go, do it now!"
Details would come in later, once he was able to get there. With the military off their back and the Camaro playing babysitter for two known goofs this was such a perfect opportunity to capture them. It was all falling into his lap so perfectly, what could possibly go wrong!
"What the hell is this?" It was an irritated demand not a question. The man who was being addressed spun around in his chair and gave a speaker a blank look. To clarify the general tossed down a handful of glossy photos. "Those were your men out there! You made us all look like shit!" He growled as the photos scattered showing multiple satellite captures of two black helicopters tied by their own grappling hooks to a light pole. The man in the chair took the small plush basketball he was holding and squished it in between his hands.
"I did what I had to."
"I don't think so." Came a stern reply. "You caused a twenty five car pile up! Caused three robots to expose themselves in public! Not to to mention the damage-" He roared but was cut off.
"Damage was minimal!" He reported dryly and dismissively but obviously offended.
"I'm not talking about property damage. You have millions of Americans out there terrified over these robots, so you run them amok in public!"
"Hey! I wasn't the one who started this mess! Hell they went into a verbal tizzy with countless eye witnesses, not to mention the medias involvement before you could even contain it! Long before my guys showed up! Hey, at least my job isn't-"
"You mean your incompetence." The general interrupted grimly. His tone lowered to a less angry degree. He felt like he had to explain himself because obviously this man doesn't get it! "We saw the stress so we made the decision to pull back. We didn't want a firefight to get started in a busy intersection. Or in your case! A busy interstate!"
He scoffed and pulled himself closer. "You gave them breathing room!" He gawked. The basketball was punched together but otherwise forgotten. He nearly jumped to his feet. "There are gawdamn alien robots running around who don't belong here but you just want to let them be?"
At that the general cocked his head in indignation. "Lest I remind you. They didn't attack until after your men made the first move. A stupid move!" He was poised and he set his face down lower. Then his eyes narrowed and he followed up with one last statement. "Don't you forget that." With that, he turned and left.
The plush, orange ball was once again remembered, squished with rage, then hoisted and tossed at the back of the man's head. The door closed and the ball thudded hopelessly against the wood. He sat there steaming.
"Are all our men into place?"
"Yes sir. Nothing's been reported so far." They had a 13 mile radius of where one of them could be hiding. Just ONE!
"Well this is just a mess! What about the other NBEs?"
"They dodged us outside of Pennsylvania. We lost visual on them. We we can't seem to track them." Apparently there was more too NEST than just borrowed alien technology.
The man opted for a sigh rather than cursing under his breath. His finger curled up over his lip while his thumb braced itself on his chin.
"Copy that." A crew nestled over the phone cupped his hand over the receiver. "Sir we just got confirmation. Big Benjamin has just been spotted outside of Youngstown, Ohio."
"Cut the communications. I don't want this getting out!"
"Yes sir." Phones picked up and orders sent out.
"Sir!" Paper spewed forth from a printer, harshly snatched and handed to him. "It's bad."
He looked over the sheet briefly. The blood paled from his face. "We have no choice. Send in the air support."
Photos, documents, reports and newspapers were scattered across his desk. Too many to sift through in the short amount of time of the Autobot's return. Out of the glossy photos he plucked one out of the list and examined it with frustration. He was retracing their steps. Why were they here? And what was he to do now? Most of all, why him!
He already scoured through Mission City to the point of almost knowing the incident by heart. Millions of dollars worth of damage and millions more worth of cleanup. While the global communications blackout was still in effect they did a full quarantine of eight city blocks. The media blackout was their only saving grace. However that was the start of this headache. The previous president had implemented NEST. When he learned of it, it constantly sent shivers down his spine. With careful scrutiny he went through the NEST files. He started with their first mission which took place in San Francisco. NEST reported it a success. Damage was reported to be minimal, but they didn't report the damage of what exposure could do. Against all orders the yellow Camaro titled Bumblebee transformed on the bridge to destroy a Decepticon designated Swindle. There were notes written by an ex-Sector Seven Operative who had been reassigned to the job of monitoring NEST. It apparently slipped out during a conversation between the black Kicktop truck designated Ironhide and the Camaro, Bumblebee (seriously, where do they get these names?) that this action might have been taken in revenge. He then tossed through the other reports. Speaking of revenge, he pulled out the file where they acquired a silver robot disguised as a Corvette Stingray. He briefly looked through the destruction and lives injured or lost during his escapades before Optimus Prime, the Autobot leader wanted him to join their ranks. The endless ball of nerves tore into his body at that thought. A destructive monster, and he was promoted to their team. He tossed the folder aside and pulled the tension away from his face. Sighing he reached for his yellow notepad. His pen danced in the air in contemplation then finally settled down on a line of words and then scratched them out with a line. The pen then tapped his chin while he went in to deep thought. Then as a decision to get a straight answer from all the sugar coating that NEST had been giving him, he sent in Galloway to be liaison. By all accounts the information was not good. He then turned his attention to the most recent news reports. The Transformers at this point were split up into three groups. The one that went solo was the most troubling. He seemed to have a cloaking ability which made him hard to follow. The other two teams were split with Sideswipe in one and the other was headed by Bumblebee. While Sideswipe's team laid low and returned back to the point of origin of another landfall, Bumblebee's team caused more chaos before returning to Princeton.
Why? And although an attack happened, nobody was injured. What is the purpose of that?
"Mr. President." The door opened and he was addressed. "I have the most recent satellite photos." The president rolled his hand forward addressing him to step forward.
A thick stack of glossy cards were thumped on his desk. Pulling the rubber band the president quickly slid through the images. He paused when he reached the incident that caused a pileup inside a tunnel. There were three unmarked helicopters that weren't military.
He sat up in his chair, stunned at the revelation. "Who is this? There wasn't supposed to be anybody visibly pursuing them." It was orders he didn't agree with, but outside his jurisdiction.
"They're not ours."
"Who's then?"
"Don't know."
"Well then find out!"
If he had to bet his reelection, it was another waste of federal funding nestled deep inside the government. Meaning that, it was them. Somehow.
The president then went flipping through the photos. It detailed the movements his men could follow. One such group of photos reminded him of the newspaper article he just read. The newspapers reported that the three went to the college looking for help. He furrowed his eyebrow. If they didn't start the skirmish out on the interstate, then maybe this didn't seem so strange. Then they went looking after a hit and run incident. "Douglas." He set the photo down. "Look into this. I have a feeling this is important." The man nodded to his request. The images went from their visit at a hospital. Two the red and green stopping at a cafe. Again it only caused confusion.
"We're looking into that now." Douglas informed him. The president nodded. Flipping through more he noted that the Autobots that he knew of regrouped. Then photos of them went sparse. They were laying low. It wasn't until early this morning that they were spotted again, this time heading West. He cleared his throat. Paused to think and then flipped rapidly through the photos. He paused when the satellite caught a rare glimpse of the larger one. His eyes widened. Digging through his documents he pulled out a folder detailing the creature spotted outside of Mission City. Despite them generally looking the same to him, outside of the different colors, he recognized this one. He was the one who terrorized the people on the bridge. NEST claimed he was destroyed. At least that's what their report listed along with evidence that the creature's anatomy that allowed him to function had been removed. His mind swirled at many different possibilities but paused at juts one. What if the Autobots returned for unfinished business. While he sunk into those thoughts and the connotation it presented a voice snapped him suddenly back.
"Sir!" A woman was standing at the door hardly waiting to address him. "There's another attack!"