Author's Note: Well, I'm not happy with my other TF fic, so I thought I try this idea and see which one you guys like more.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my OCs


When you've been running around in a full BDU (Battle Dress Uniform, or Combat Uniform) in the middle of July in Alabama, it's hard to imagine anything could be hotter, though seeing as the majority of people have never done such a thing, I suppose you'll just have to take my word for it.

I swiped away a drop of sweat that had been making its way down my forehead, careful not to wipe too hard and smear the layer of dried charcoal camouflage that covered every inch of visible skin, including the tips of my ears. I was lying on my stomach, under a large tangle of brambles, waiting with the rest of my team for the target.

"Hey Jinx, see anything yet?" A scratchy voice in my ear buzzed briefly as I continued watching down the road. That's me, by the way, Jinx. Obviously it's not my real name, just a callsign. We don't go by our real names at Aviation Challenge. You don't know what that is? It's not surprising I suppose, AC isn't the greatest on advertising. It's a military camp of sorts, mostly Air Force, but some might say there's more of a Navy influence. Kids whose ages range from ten to eighteen come to Huntsville, Alabama for a week, or more, for an experience, well of a lifetime, not to be cliché. Age groups are split up into 3 Machs. I'm a Mach III, and it's my last summer here, but moving on.

I scanned the road just to make sure before replying: "Negative." The road, which connected the main camp area to the U.S. Space and Rocket Center, was empty.

"Well damn. Hope our Intel's good." Came the same voice before its owner, Ajax, closed the link with a click.

A few hours before we had been called in from Drill and Ceremony practice, aka Tap-Off from hell, for a special briefing. That wasn't a big surprise, being Mach III 12-dayers we had come to expect such missions. No, the surprise was the box of goodies including two pairs of heat-sensor binoculars and two sets of mikes and earpieces, and the fact that we were going in blind, well mostly. Safety, our huge, muscular, and slightly scary CO had just smiled at us, it's never a good thing when he looks that happy, and told us that we were to apprehend and board a bus full of people from Huntsville that would leave the Space Center at precisely 1300 hours, or one o'clock. That would give us a window of fifteen minutes tops before another bus set out. Then he sent us off, still grinning, and told us we had five minutes to prepare.

The location our team had chosen was probably the best for an ambush, just preceding a wide turn in the road before it hit the straight stretch to the camp. The trees were closest to the road here, providing good cover. Everything was set, a large log across the road to stop the bus, our team spread throughout the wood keeping watch in every direction. All we needed was for the bus to show up.

And finally it did.

"Jinx to Ajax, target's in sight." A breath of relief was heard through the earpiece.

The thuds of bodies hitting the dirt sounded through the quiet area as Scarecrow, our Patrol Leader, signaled for everyone to get down.

I paid no more mind to the irritating drops of sweat as the bus drew nearer, slowing as the driver caught sight of the roadblock, and finally coming to a stop right in front of us.

At Scarecrow's signal we moved out, imaginary guns held in front of us as we made a perimeter around the prone vehicle. Lynx and Coyote, our Alpha Search team moved quickly to the still closed doors, knocking on them and entering after they opened with a loud hiss. The two darted inside leaving us to wait. Since they're Alpha Search they get the job of going in first and eliminating threats. This one didn't seem like much, it was probably just a group of kids from the local YMCA that we were going take hostage or something like that.

After what couldn't have been more than a minute Lynx reappeared, an odd expression on his face. He waved for me to come over, and after receiving permission from Scarecrow I obliged, confused as anyone else as to what the problem was.

The question was answered as soon as I stepped on board.

"Jinx to Ajax, you might want to have Scarecrow come onboard, he's going to want to see this." I muttered into the mike, quite aware that our time was running short.

Scarecrow's tall, lanky form appeared at the doors seconds later.

He stepped on board to see what the rest of us had discovered. It wasn't a busload of children. It was a busload of fully outfitted soldiers, USAF by the look of them, and they didn't seem too happy to have been held up by a bunch of teenagers.

"Well this complicates things." Scarecrow growled, a scowl firmly in place. "Jinx, I want you to radio Command and tell them exactly what I write down. And put it on speaker so the rest of us can hear."

"Yes sir." I said with a nod, turning the dial on my radio to open the correct channel.

"Eagle 5, this is Wolf 6."

There was a faint crackle as Command responded, Safety's voice coming over the radio. "Eagle 5 here, go ahead Wolf 6."

Scarecrow shoved a piece of paper with some hastily written, thankfully still legible, words.

"Target is in sight and we are prepared to engage. Do you have any other instructions or intel regarding the occupants of the vehicle? Over."

"Negative, Wolf 6, it's just a bus, probably has a few whiny kids in it. Should be easy for you to take care. Eagle 5 out." The com ended with an echoing click.

"We've been played." Scarecrow said, quickly running through our options as he paced in the small aisle.

"Jinx, radio Ajax and tell him to get everyone else onboard, and then I want you to use those ears of yours to find Falcon 6's channel and get in touch with them, chances are if our team has been compromised so has theirs.

As I sent the message to Ajax, Scarecrow moved up front to where the bus driver, an older man, was sitting patiently.

"Sir, if I may ask a favor of you, we would appreciate it if you would be kind enough to turn the bus around and follow the loop back to the Space Center before returning." He asked in his usual eloquent speech.

"Well that depends, have anything for me?" The bus driver inquired with a wink.

"Ah, sir, you drive a hard bargain." Scarecrow sighed with a mournful shake of his head as he dug through his rucksack and retrieved a small box of much-coveted Coco Puffs. Don't ask.

The bus driver grinned as the box was deposited in his hand and prepared to turn the bus on to the side road just ahead as soon as the rest of our team was taken care of.

Scarecrow certainly had a way with persuasion. Some of us had argued that his callsign ought to be Odysseus or Silver-Tongue, but after the story he told about that scarecrow, well there was no competition.

Anyway, Ajax ushered the rest of our team onto the bus, Mouse and Slinky, our Bravo Search, taking the time to return the log to the woods before boarding.

The expressions of surprise varied on the faces of my teammates as they came on, curious as to what the hold up was, obviously they hadn't been expecting a bunch of soldiers either. Scarecrow dispersed the team throughout the bus, standing them where they could best watch the annoyed soldiers and prevent trouble.

I was left in the front listening to the radio as Scarecrow stood beside me waiting for news.

I flipped through the channels, listening for the telltale buzz, or better yet an actual communication, that would betray the channel the opposing team was using.

Technically we weren't supposed to contact each other on missions such as this one when we were competing, but Scarecrow was counting on the fact that they would most likely join with us when they realized what was happening.

By a stroke of luck I happened onto their channel just as Cheese and Striker, by the sound of it, were finishing discussing something.

"Wolf 6 to Falcon 6." I sent, a surprised pause in answer before my earpiece came to life again.

"Wolf 6? How the hell did you get our channel?" Striker asked incredulously.

"Lucky guess." I told him quickly. "You might be in danger."

"What are you talking about?"

"Our team was set up, which means your team was probably as well. We've got the situation under wraps for now, but you all should be on the look out."

There was a pregnant pause before the channel opened again. Presumably Striker was talking with his PL. But when the channel did open there was no reply for a while, merely the faint sporadic popping of paintball gun fire.

"It's too late, they're on us. You guys better get the hell away from wherever it is you are because you're next." Cheese's gasping voice came through before the channel clicked off again and was silent.

I looked up at Scarecrow who was still watching me as the bus drew near the Space Center.

"Too late, there's nothing we can do for them."

"Damn." He said, putting his face in his hands.

"Would someone please tell us what is going on?" A man's voice, filled with irritation, came from the soldiers.

Scarecrow glared at him. "Who are you?"

The man stood. He was tanned and well built, his dark hair was buzzed and a bit of stubble graced his jaw. "I am Major William Lennox, and that is Sir to you."

"I don't give a rat's ass about your rank, Sir." Scarecrow said, drawing himself up, though he paled a bit. "My responsibility to my team is a bit more important at the moment."

The major stared at Scarecrow for a long moment, the rest of us watching them with wide eyes, before sitting down with a nod and an unhappy expression on his face.

"Somebody's got issues." The large black man beside him said with a snicker.

"Stop please." Scarecrow ordered the bus driver, who complied and stopped the large vehicle with a slight jerk and accompanying screech.

We had nearly returned to the place where we had originally boarded. To our left was a large grassy area. It had once been a small lake, so now it was low land and filled with tall grasses and weeds.

"Everybody out!" Scarecrow commanded, taking charge of our team.

I was out third since I'm Lead 1, part of the two-man frontal security team.

We waited for our team to assemble, creating a clock face perimeter like we normally would after a danger crossing and waited till the bus was long gone with it's angry cargo before moving off, crouching as we jogged.

I followed about ten feet behind Pyro, the assistant Point.

We entered the woods at the northern-most point, a fairly narrow area. Keeping down, we followed along a small, seldom used path that ran along the edge of the creek. Shouting and gunfire could be heard from the invisible POW camp just across the water, the other team apparently already there.

We ignored the noise, trying to watch out for the guards, or worse, the soldiers who had most definitely already arrived. There was no one is sight. Absolutely no one.

Have you ever had that feeling, the one where you know there is someone or something looking for you with evil intentions, and you know they're out there, and that if they find you, you're going to be in the worst pain imaginable, but you can't see them? It's not a good feeling. It makes you jumpy, though it does give you a nice adrenalin rush.

After at least a half hour of crawling through brambles and thorns and paranoidly watching the paths, we made it to the point where a small stream met the larger creek, creating a sort of miniature ravine with steep sides that you either had to climb down and then up the other side or just jump to the opposite bank and crawl up. There was a footbridge of course, but bridges are a major no-no.

We crossed one at a time, Tiny and I going first to provide security for the rest of the team, the slightly muddy bank adding a new orangish color to our clothes. We continued on for about five meters after everyone was across, and then we stopped again at the sight of something new in the campground area. Make that many somethings.

Now, I'll be the very first to tell you, I know nothing about cars. I mean, sure, I can play around with them, fix things up, but I couldn't tell you the difference between a Camry and a Camarro. But even I knew those were some pretty sweet cars.

Their exteriors shown brightly in the Alabama sun, probably because a new paint job or a fresh wash, and they were just sitting in the middle of the clearing in no specific pattern, as though their owners had just parked them and walked off. They certainly weren't military cars though, well maybe that truck, it was a monster if I ever saw one, biggest pick-up I'd ever seen.

"What the hell is going on?" Scarecrow asked, not for the first time, as he made his way to the front of the line where the rest of us were gaping at the cars.

"This mission is so fucked up." He said as he caught sight of the gleaming vehicles sitting innocently in the sun. "All right. We need to find out what is going on and try to rescue the others. But we can't keep having to look over our shoulders for these guys looking for us."

I suddenly had an idea, remembering a game of airsoft that I had played with my brothers and friends a few years before. "Hey, Scarecrow! I think I have an idea." I told him quietly, searching the area for a suitable location.

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, probably willing to listen to anything at that point.

"We send someone up a tree with good cover. They'll have one of the mikes with them. That way they can keep watch on our team and lookout for the enemy and they can radio in if there's an approaching threat or something they need to watch out for."

"Perfect." Scarecrow said grinning, his face lightening up. "You're probably the best candidate then since you already know how to use the mike and you're small."

He laughed as I scowled at his reference to my height, or lack thereof. Ok, so I'm short, no need to make fun of it.

He turned around in place, searching for something. "Aha!" He found what he was looking for.

"Come here, Jinx." He said, leading me to the base of a tree that was just beyond the perimeter we had set up. He bent down and held out his palms as though he were giving me a leg up. "Up you get."

I placed a foot into his cupped hands and he boosted me into the air, just high enough that I could grasp one of the lower branches of the pine and pull myself into the tree.

"Pyro!" He called quietly. The blond assistant point looked up from his position on the ground and crept over, eyeing the woods nearby as he went.

"Sir?"

"Let me have those binoculars, that way Jinx will have an easier time spotting aggressors."

Pyro handed the pair over and returned to his former position.

Scarecrow looked up at me.

"Catch!"

Fortunately I caught them and didn't fumble. I looked through them over the surrounding area.

"You guys better get moving!" I whispered into my mike, Ajax looked up at me from the opposite side of the perimeter. "There's a team of eight heading this way fast from the West."

Ajax relayed the message to Scarecrow who assembled the patrol line and moved out in less than a minute, a wave of gratitude sent in my direction, and I was alone again save for the strange array of cars in the nearby clearing.


A group of men sat in a locked room. The lights were off and no one spoke.

Suddenly a digital screen sprang to life in the middle of the room, rotating slowly so that all had a good look at it.

Profile Analysis:

Bright red words appeared on the bluish screen flashing briefly before disappearing and being replaced by new data.

Designation: Scarecrow

Name: Andrew Bates

Age: 18

Born: 1/20/91

Residence: Houston, Texas

Height: 6'4"

Weight: 186 lbs.

Team: Green Hornets

Position: Patrol Leader, Alpha 2 Pilot

Military Branch of Interest: USAF

"This one we should consider. He has strong leadership skills and is an above-average pilot."

"He needs to learn respect for his superiors." Another muttered.

"Oh come on Will, let it go, the kid was in a tough position."

Another profile was brought onto the screen.

Designation: Jinx

Name: Jessica Lindon

Age: 18

Born: 12/21/90

Residence: Versailles, Kentucky

Height: 5'2"

Weight: 112 lbs.

Team: Green Hornets

Position: Lead 1, Alpha 1 RIO

Military Branch of Interest: USN

"She's a good one too, though not much of a pilot. 'Hide says she's been up in that tree for the past four hours keeping her team one step ahead of ours."

"You gotta admit, that was good thinking on her part."

"Yeah, have they found her yet? I'm sure they know by now those kids have eyes in the sky, no pun intended."

"Oh they know all right, they just can't find her. The twins have been sending in messages about how funny it is to watch them search around right under her nose."

"Is that all we're getting from this group?"

"There might be one or two more we should look at."

The screen changed again.

Designation: Ajax

Name: Simon Johnson

Age: 17

Born: 10/3/91

Residence: Fort Myers, Florida

Height: 6'3"

Weight: 175 lbs.

Team: Green Hornets

Position: Trail 1, Alpha 3 RIO

Military Branch of Interest: N/A

"He's still in high school, but it might be good to keep a tab open. Could be useful next year."

There were mutters of agreement.

Designation: Striker

Name: Jacob Matthews

Age: 17

Born: 9/19/91

Residence: London, England

Height: 6'4"

Weight: 180

Team: Jolly Rogers

Position: Trail 2, Alpha 2 Pilot

Military Branch of Interest: USAF

"This one's another we might look into."

"Are we agreed then?"

"Yeah, we'll talk to those two kids after graduation."

"Very well, gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned."


Author's Note: How was it? Let me know and I'll whip out another chapter as soon as possible if y'all like it.