The air ducts were small, and in a desperate need for cleaning, and that was saying something considering she barely hit five foot three. Alice, code named Whitewing, was the only person capable of crawling through the air ducts in the first place, she being small in frame and weight. She was the only one capable of being quiet enough while still being unable to be caught. And it was essential that they couldn't get caught.
The Decepticon base was bustling, although it was night. Normally they wouldn't run an operation so soon, but it had to be done. Soundwave was up to something, she could feel it, and the spies confirmed it. He would disappear into a lab deep in the underground part of the base, and many a time, Barricade would enter as well, looking incredibly smug and all-knowing. The taunting from him was becoming unbearable. The subtle hint as if he had the best weapon was in his grasp. They had to know.
She checked her map once more. Yes it was to the right. She looked through the small vent, yes, this was the door described. She could practically hear the machines humming from here. She clicked a small button on a long, gauntlet looking device on her arm. It would piggy back a signal and travel to the battle going on the edge of the borders of the Decepticon base. It would be safe to pull back, if they needed to. They just needed a little more to convince Megatron to lure Soundwave out.
Over the intercom she could hear a very angry Megatron yelling.
"SoundWave, Now! You and your cassettrons!"
Soundwave walked out, ever the emotionless mask, and set the codes. She couldn't see all of them, but there were ways of making the little locks sing to her.
She waited to be sure that he didn't come back, and then jumped down. The locks were tricky and she nearly set off an alarm, but she got in.
The first thing she noticed was that the room was immense and freezing. As she cautiously walked in, she could see her breath condensing. There were monitors covering the walls, various streams of data running across it. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it one had various personal data of herself being streamed, and then it kept changing, images of Blackout, and Kicker, then Decker. They had files on them, especially the Special Ops team. She quickly deleted it, and wiped the computer. The screen over to the left side was flashing various strategies and tactics. The others holding various maps and stealth techniques. Other broadcasting videos of fights and multiple styles of martial arts, at least seven at once. Her bright blue eyes followed the long, thick lines that flowed through out the room to the very center. Back to the black box, where they all wrapped into a hole, the ends covered with a frost.
"Well, let's see what's behind box number one." She marched over to what looked like a control board, eyes darting across the switches and buttons. A lever might work. She pulled the one by a bright red button. It snapped back and the black leading cover lifted from what she could now see was a giant block of ice. A giant black of ice with a child lying inside.
She stared, frozen in shock.
It was hard to see him, with the pale frost disorienting most of his features. But she thought she recognized that chin….
"WhiteWing! Get out of there!"
She jumped at the voice of Kicker jumped from the small earpiece in her ear. She looked back at the lever again. Dang it, it had a finger print scanner. Why the heck would a lever have a finger print scanner!
"Kicker, buy me some time! I gotta grab something!" she started looking for the unfreeze switch or something, there had to be something to get this kid out. When she finally found it, she punched it down.
"Unfreezing Process has begun." A computerized voice ran. Gas started pouring out of the large box of ice, the room flashing red from the alarms. She shot them off.
"No can do, get out of there!" A gunshot went off from the earpiece. They were being pushed back, they had to retreat.
"There's a kid here, Kicker!" she yelled. She started shooting at the top of the glass. Why place the kid upside down? Easier for the wires to get to? There was a pause over the communication networks, and she nearly started yelling again.
"You've got 5 minutes. It's all we can give you." And the line went silent. She pulled her gun out and began firing at the top of the glass, where his feet were.
Who put a child upside down in a block of ice? Who put anybody in a block of ice! She kept shooting the top of the imposingly tall structure. Gas started pouring out of the ice, liquid nitrogen covering the floor and making her hands go numb. The gas was crawling to her eyes. She had to get him out. Finally, she heard it.
The ice shattered. The body in the glass fell limply to the floor, legs stiff. There was a sharp burst of electricity, and the lines pulled out, failing on the floor like eels with no life source. He wasn't moving. He was still. Oh, what has she done? He couldn't be…
His chest rattled with a single breath. She could see his heart beating through his chest, think and frail, but there. There was a spare lab coat lying on one of the chairs. She grabbed it as she jumped over the console, pulling the large coat on him. That would have to do until they were safe. She needed to go. They needed to move. Now.
She gathered him in her arms and ran out to door, back into the air vents. A polished black shoe turned the corner at the same time. She cursed silently and crawled as fast as she could with the unexpected bundle in her arms.
All of a sudden, there was fire racing for her. They were trying to bomb her out. She thought back to the map. The service elevator, just in the left. She crawled to it, and slammed the door shut just as a explosion went off behind her. That was too close. Too close. And it was cramped in here with two people, even if they were both small and thin. Really small. How small was a teenage boy supposed to be?
The service elevator finally ended, and it leads right outside. The dirt was welcomed and she raced for the small section where Kicker was waiting for her. They kid was getting heavy. She was almost there. A gunshot whizzed by her ears, cutting her black hair. And then she crawled into the dugout and bushes, the boy being lifted off of her, the kid seemingly asleep. They raced down to the large van hiding in the thicket and raced off, the entire platoon safe with gunfire peppering their tailgate.
They were safely within Autobot territory now, only a day or so away from the main camp. Whiteout relaxed her hold on her dagger, a nervous habit she was prone to. The place that had set up camp was small and obscure, as they were only a band of three. Well, four she supposed. The fire was warming her nicely, and they were finally away from the gunshots and Decepticons. Silvershot poked the fire thoughtfully, sparks flying at her touch.
"So, who's the kid?"
Whiteout glanced down at him for the hundredth time that night. They only thing they could find to replace the overgrown lab coat was a small special ops suit that was all black, and cut into his frame nicely. His hair was cropped short in the back, with a small mechanical port hooked up to the base of his cranium. It had been biomechanically inserted. His hair was strange; White, with blood red bangs to frame his chiseled, solid face. She touched her own bangs, trying to recall where she had seen a face similar to his, but couldn't place it. Her mind traced back to all the snippets of information that had played on the monitors. A name, a code-name really, kept popping on all of them.
"They called him Prowl."
His eyes snapped open all of a sudden, and she stared back at a matching pair of her own lightening blues, staring straight back at her.
