A/N: I don't know why Prowl is the main character of this story. He's not even my favorite Autobot, but he seemed to fit the shoes of the kind of mech who takes a thrill in uncovering a mystery. Mark, Amanada and Cindy are not OCs. They belong to 2K Games. If you know where I'm going with this, yes, this is a crossover. I'm not going to tell which universe yet, but if you have an idea please share them. I'm going to reveal a lot of things as the story goes on, so if you're confused do not fret.

This story will get darker once it picks up, with violence and gore. The rating will go up to M sooner or later.

Enjoy and please review!

News reports featuring kidnappings of female humans around the world started appearing steadily, all eerily similar as if following a twisted format

Normally, kidnappings weren't something the Autobots got involved with. It was left to the human authorities unless it involved the Decepticons directly. But what originally caught Blaster's attention, who eventually reported it to Prowl and eventually made its way to Optimus Prime was shortly after each kidnappings was a sighting of a red light appearing out of a nearby body of water.

Although somewhat trivial, it caught Prime's attention.

They had put it off up until now when more and more kidnappings were branching out. With what had started on the coastlines of Europe was now happening on American shores. With no more leads and desperation thick in the media, the human authorities had turned to the Autobots for help.

Optimus Prime stood in front of Teletran-1, both hands resting on the console, shoulders hunched with tension as he flipped through article after article. Prowl stood motionless at his side, soundlessly analyzing the information, his features expressionless except for the frown tugging at his lip components. Originally the humans had suggested the disappearances were to be linked somehow to the Decepticons, but Prowl couldn't see as to what use a bunch of female sparkings would have to Megatron.

It was simply illogical.

But on the other servo, somewhere deep in Prowl's processor he suspected they had stumbled upon something bigger then it initially appeared to be. His door wings twitched in anticipation.

Optimus Prime straightened to his full impressive height and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Prowl was close enough to his energy field to pick up traces of frustration, uncertainty and even exhaustion from the Autobot leader. Prowl took a step closer, allowing his own field to mingle with Prime's and sent a flood of reassurance and calm. He hoped Prime would appreciate his support, as subtle as it may be.

"What do you think, Optimus?" Prowl asked crisply.

"I have my doubts that these kidnappings are linked to the Decepticons." Optimus Prime entered in a command and an article was pulled up on Teletran's screen.

"These recurring kidnappings follow a specific pattern." He clicked a button and another article filled the screen, and then another. "The victims of these kidnappings are all female children. And based on the reports of the families the kidnappings were performed entirely in stealth. It's just not Megatron's style."

Prowl peered up at the screen, his optics darting rapidly as he skimmed the article once again.

"These reports are rather over exaggerated not to mention daft," he said disdainfully. "Why would they suspect the Decepticons? Megatron is only interested in harvesting the earth's resources." It was peculiar indeed. "What is to gain from taking these girls?" Prowl pressed on, voicing his thoughts aloud. "The majority of these families live below their means; therefore a ransom is out of question."

"And there still is the matter of sightings of the red light." Prime cut in, giving his face mask a couple strokes in thought.

Both mechs lapsed into silence, each chasing around their own theories inside their head. This was definitely something out of the ordinary, but as Prime suspected, the Decepticons couldn't have been involved. There was no way a Decepticon would have pulled off multiple kidnappings without being seen, not to mention without causing any massive property damage. There were the rare instances of Ravage, Lazerbeak or even Rumble and Frenzy. But he doubted that Soundwave would ever set them out on such an assignment.

Prime sighed. As much as his spark went out to the grieving families of the victims of the kidnappings, there wasn't much he could do. He was stumped with work, and overseeing the workings of an entire army of Autobots took up his time and effort one hundred and ten percent.

But Prime couldn't turn his back onto such a despairing matter and he couldn't ignore the seeds of curiosity from sprouting in his processor. Prime turned to his second in command. Prowl suddenly felt uneasy with the way merriment was dancing in Prime's optics.

"I'm sure you're properly up-to-date in the matters of this situation Prowl."

"That…I am." It was he who had collected the articles, watched all related news reports and press conferences. It was Prowl who had approached Prime on the matter and filled the leader in on the situation. "Where are you going with this Prime?"

Although Prowl couldn't see Prime's physical facial features, he was sure Prime was smiling under his face mask. It was evident in his voice, it was hard not to miss.

"I'm making you head of this investigation."

Prowl's optics brightened a shade in surprise, and his doorwings perked up on their hinges.

"But Optimus, the Decepticions!-"

"-haven't been active since our last skirmish. I am aware that Megatron might be scheming his next plans of action. But in the meantime, I cannot ignore the cries of help from those families who have lost their children. They've asked for my help and I cannot turn my back on that. Although I wish I could personally see to this matter, I cannot ignore my obligation as Prime. That is why I want you for the job Prowl. You're the best 'bot for the job."

He placed a comforting hand on the Datsun's shoulder, and Prowl felt the pride, reassurance and the confidence he bestowed upon his second in command surging through his field.

"Besides," Optimus's optics sparkled. "A little bird told me you enjoyed uncovering mysteries."

Prowl's processor instantly brought up the image of Jazz, smile set short of a smirk and visor bright in mischief… and he tried not to visibly grimace.

"Mysteries such as 'who switched Ratchet's maintenance tools with custom Cybertranian sized toy tools that squeaked' do not count. Neither does the mystery of who managed to lock the minibots into storage unit 3C with the song I'm A Barbie Girl playing on repeat for three whole hours."

Prime tried not to chuckle, but the delight was rolling off him in waves.

"'Mysteries' such as those are always inexplicitly traced back to the twins." He paused, abruptly recalling an incident that happened not too long ago. "Or in some instances, the Aerialbots."

Prime couldn't help laughing softly. Of course he knew what Prowl was referring to. How the Aerialbots (specifically Slingshot, Air Raid and Fireflight) managed to get enough duct tape to strap Blades to the ceiling was one thing, but managing to do it while he was recharging and keeping him that way was another. Hot Spot wasn't kidding when he claimed Blades was the heaviest recharger.

A small smile blossomed onto Prowl's lips. "Although, I do look forward to taking part and potentially uncovering a mystery worth my time and resources."

"Very well, I accept." Returning to his businesslike manner, he faced Prime. "But my duties as Second in Command will take center if they are needed in our downtime. That includes any run-ins with the Decepticons if they choose to emerge. In the meantime, I will try my best to find the missing humans."

Prime's hand came forward and rested on Prowl's shoulder. He met his leaders pride filled optics.

"I know you will, old friend."

The middle aged man stood facing the wind, slowly inhaling the crisp salty air. He noted the prominent smell of salt that filled his lungs, but the undertones of seaweed and fresh ozone was a very pleasant contrast. It was the kind of scent that triggered memories of one's childhood, of pleasant times at the beach on family outings when he was a little boy.

The man reached up to touch the pilloried camera that hung around his neck on a strap. He had long since set up his tent and other necessities an hour ago, about thirty feet from where he stood now. It was a good location, in his opinion. It gave him a good vantage point to the stretch of beach before him at the shores of Wilson Point Beach, in Saint John, New Brunswick Canada.

He was tempted to capture the masterpiece that was the ocean in front of him. The sun was gradually sinking in the horizon and the sky was lit up with an artist's touch. Pastel shades of all colours dyed the sky masterfully and the man was slightly jealous he didn't have sights like this where he lived.

The hustle and bustle of New York is distracting. No time to look up and appreciate sights like these.

The man finally decided it would be best to take a couple pictures, although it would never amount up the loveliness of the real thing. But his wife Amanda and daughter Cindy would greatly appreciate it. If only they were here to see it, he sighed.

The water was surprisingly pleasant against his skin, and it smoothed his nerves a degree. His brows furrowed and his lips pressed into a tight line. He had a reason for being away from his family, much to his wife's dismay.

He was here to get solid evidence to aid in his investigation of the kidnappings. He had to get evidence, he followed the patterns, and he was sure he was at the right beach. But there was a nagging that kept on tugging at his heart, a dark part of his consciousness that felt like he was going slowly insane with obsession.

He remembered the fight with his wife before he left to the long drive up to Canada. Her words still rang out in his head as if she was beside him whispering it to him directly.

You're becoming hopelessly obsessed Mark! It's not healthy and you have to let this go! Please!

The look in her eyes is what hurt him the most. Large with fear, uncertainty, and not too far from disgust.

You have to stop this from eating at you!

It was eating away at him. At first it was something to do on his spare time, something to help the families out with. Then as the kidnappings increased, spreading its way across the hemisphere to America…so close to home…he vowed to help any way he could.

And he assured himself that staking out in the location in which he predicted would be visited by the kidnapper next was the right step to take. He was determined to help and be the one to finally put an end to so much suffering.

He would be the one to set the rumors straight, and he inwardly believed that it had nothing to do with the media's official theory. Mark huffed both in amusement and revulsion. How would they think those giant…robots were capable of something like that? Mark believed that they had no time to pause in their war with the Autobots to kidnap a bunch of kids.

Mark turned from the ocean and made his way back to his tent, retracing the foot prints that his bare feet had made before. He idly picked up and pocketed sea shells that looked nice enough to bring home back to Cindy. She would be thrilled, she loved the beach.

Just like her mother.

Mark wondered what they were doing at that moment. He checked his watch, almost eight. He smile faintly, dinner would be wrapping up. Amanda would be finishing drying the last of the dishes while, if he was there, Cindy would be curled up with her father as he read her the newspaper.

It didn't matter that Cindy was too young to understand half the things Mark read. It didn't matter at all to the little girl because she just liked hearing her father talk. She would press her head up against his barrel chest, cherishing the way she could feel the vibrations of his voice on her cheek.

Then Amanda would make him a drink, join him on the couch and they would talk about the content he read in the paper. And Cindy would sit against her father, listening to her parents talk until she drifted off to sleep.

Mark felt a pang of homesickness move through his body like a fierce shiver. I'm only here for a few days, he thought when he reached the lip of the tent. Just a few days and I'll be back with my family…

The third day had rolled in without a hint, but to Mark it felt like the days had all been blended together.

The waves rolled into shore and the cry of a far off gull brought Mark out of his sleep. He scrambled to sit up, wiping away the sleepiness from his eyes. He checked his watch, three fifteen and sighed in relief. His anxiousness left his mind reeling with anticipation and he reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head as fast as he could manage.

He stepped out into the late afternoon and stretched to relive his cramped shoulders. His nose wrinkled when he caught a waft of his body odour but he placed it at the back of his mind. If he really wanted he could take a quick dip in the water but at that moment his nerves was too shot to enjoy even that.

He took a seat on his foldable chair and reached to retrieve his binoculars.

Mark then waited.

He lost count of the time long ago when the sun had dipped below the horizon and the moon moved in to take its rightful place. The stars almost looked diamond from where he sat but the majestic sight was entirely ignored. Mark's eyes roamed up and down the coastline, searching for anything…any sign in the water or any other soul in that matter.

The kidnapper would be here soon. His skin was prickled entirely in goose bumps, and he could feel his heart beating rapidly.

Come on…come on! Show yourself…

The air was chilly, and despite wearing a thick sweater he was dripping in sweat. His grip around the binoculars was vicelike and his knuckles had long turned white. His leg jiggled up and down and he noticed he was grinding his teeth.

Then all at once all of those things halted, except for the beating of his heart.

At first it was like a pinprick of red in the blackness that was the waters. Mark stopped breathing, and lowered the binoculars from his face. He squinted…yes…he wans't seeing things. He brought them back up and he silently gasped to fill his lungs back up with air.

The pinpricked bled into a shimmering red sphere as whatever it belong to came closer to the surface.

This is it! Mark jumped up from his chair, violently knocking it over. He dashed horizontally towards the scene, taking hold of his camera tightly.

The red sphere danced with the waves of the water, and then Mark stopped in his tracks as something pierced the surface. He stumbled and dropped quickly to the sand.

With his heart in his head he brought his camera up, willing his limbs to stop shaking.

A long gangly figure crept out of the waters with jerky laboured movements and then straightened. Mark shaking hands lifted the camera, silently thanking God that he was far enough not to be seen. It's head was an entire metal sphere, helmet?, and as it turned its head slowly to the North, Mark noticed its glowing red eye.

Click.

Mark crept closer, keeping in the shadows as he watched the thing walk out of the water. Mark noticed a cage like basket adorned on its back next to what looked like an oxygen tank. Long lanky arms and legs were covered in leather and twisted metal, and what made Mark's stomach lurch in fright was the long very dangerous looking needle on its left arm.

Click.

It looks like someone in a diving suit… Mark shuffled backwards and slowly crept on his hands and knees. He had to make a run for it before the thing saw him…

He had to get away and get these pictures developed.

He was on his feet, a second away from putting the pedal to the metal and fleeing back to his tent.

The head snapped, and the red eye looked directly at Mark.

Mark didn't hesitate. He turned around and hauled ass. Sprinting over to his tent didn't take long. He dashed inside, desperately grabbing whatever he needed to take with him to America and left the tent where it was.

Mark never stopped moving, and once inside his car he peeled out of the parking lot and zoomed back towards the highway.

The glowing red eye still loomed in his vision, even when he closed his eyes to escape it.