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Chapter 2
"Jazz!"
The mech turned his optics sharply, his processor registering the distress in Mark's voice. Mark's face was contorted into confusion, his eyes slowly widening with a hint of fear. Brown eyes met electrifying blue, and immediately Jazz understood.
Transforming to the Solstice he popped open the driver's door. Once Mark was safely seated his wheels dug into the soil, digging up dirt and rocks as he shot forward. Questions came from the com-link and he replied back with what he believed was wrong. A siren answered him, along with a heavy roaring engine.
Mark gripped his phone tightly as he replayed the message. What had she been doing? What had she done to warrant unwanted attention? Where was she?
Loud rustling, shifting and heavy breathing came from the speaker. Someone was taking deep breaths, attempting to suck in more oxygen or calm themselves down. A sharp inhale, more rustling, then feet pounding against concrete or asphalt. A male voice cursed.
Jazz tapped into the phone, streaming the voicemail through the com-link.
A harsh thud and crack, a hiss of pain and panting. She was gasping for air now - Mark's knuckles turned white. A quiet whimper came through, then a loud sniffle before the rustling returned, a sound of something being dragged screeched through the speaker. It soon disappeared, the heavy breathing and feet pounding returning.
A panicked noise came from her throat, along with a growl of irritation and sniff. Her foot falls suddenly became soft but highly apparent, she must have been running across dirt. Another tumble, sound of jostling, harsh breathing. Her feet pounded against solid ground once more. She sucked in air greedily, her feet slamming faster.
Mark realized she was getting desperate, she couldn't shake off whoever was chasing her.
"Cut her off!"
Mark grit his teeth at the faint sound of an engine starting. She couldn't hear. She didn't know.
A heavy harsh thud, and another crack came through. Sounds of a scuffle filled the speaker, her harsh breathing mixed in with another's. A cry of pain came from a male, a huff from her. The engine roared loudly through the speaker, an ear piercing screech of tires skidding along pavement; then the sound of something tumbling.
"I got 'er!"
Footfalls approached, getting louder, an audible crunch and everything went silent.
"End of message."
Mark shut his eyes tightly, his voice low. "Please tell me there's a way you can find her."
"Ah traced the signal of her last known location 'fore it disappeared," Jazz paused. "That's all Ah'm able ta do."
Cars pulled to the side of the road at the sound of sirens, staring in bewilderment as a rescue Hummer raced passed, a solstice tailgating it, and a Peterbilt following close behind. Ratchet only turned his sirens off once they were on the outskirts of Mark's town, Jazz taking the lead once more.
They drove through backstreets of town, avoiding stop lights and other drivers. Jazz felt a sense of foreboding as he continued to follow the marker that was blinking in the corner of his hud. Entering the familiar canyon, Jazz picked up his speed, weaving through the winding road at a speed no human would dare to attempt. Mark's body twitched in his seat, the soldiers face tense, jaw clenched as they drove past the open gates of his drive way knowing his house was hidden in an alcove.
Jazz eased off the gas, passing two more houses that were well spread apart from each other before the trio of three came to a stop. Popping open his driver's door he watched as the young human stepped out.
Mark stared down at the fresh droplets of blood staining the asphalt road, his hands curling into tight fists at the sight of skid marks. A hand rested on his shoulder, a broken phone filling his vision. He grasped the broken phone with shaking fingers and hunched over.
His sister was gone.
The hand on his shoulder tightened. The three other men standing around him all wearing grim faces. This wasn't how they expected to use their fixed program of the holoforms. The true reason of why Optimus and Ratchet called them to the overlook.
"Mark," Optimus deep baritone broke the silence. "We will find her, I promise you this on my spark."
A black van slowly reversed into the destination of where its delivery of stock items would go. Workers opened the vans back doors - questioning eyes having been silenced with mere threats promising the color of red hanging over the peon workers heads. Beginning the process of unloading the cargo, different length and width sizes of open wooden crates filled with firearms of illegal and legal measures passed between workers as the crates were set upon old rusted metal tables. Each firearm was inspected, taken apart, put back together, and loaded before workers moved them into labeled boxes with a well known name brand of an auto parts company bolded across it in cursive calligraphy.
Another van soon reversed next to its twin, a different group of workers approaching it. All of them were far to clean cut, wearing black slacks and black tees, their hands free of any grime. The black van's doors opened, the light penetrating the darkness its cargo had been locked in. Soft whimpers and squinted eyes stared out into the light with fear and confusion. Each squeal and shriek muffled from behind the tape on their lips as they were roughly pulled out of the beginning stages of what would soon to be known as their new lives.
Eyes roamed over each of the teenage girls, calculative, cold, bar of any emotion. The batch was deemed profitable, two of them barely blooming, one with a figure that would please any, two more with broken eyes - easy to handle and perfect submissives, one more beautifully exotic an of perfect age, eyes defiant - yes, their customers would pay well to break her.
One brow rose as their runners stepped out of the van, one carrying a limp body in his arms, the other having taped a wad of gauze over his nose that was stained red. "What is that?"
The driver cringed at the question, fidgeting with his hands nervously. "Well...we ran into a small problem."
"What small problem?"
Both runners shared an uneasy glance, the one holding the limp body speaking up. "Well yeh see, she sorta happened teh see everyt'ing when we got teh pricey one..."
Workers glanced in the two rookie runners direction, rookie or not, mistakes were not tolerated within the organization. The six main prized possessions were roughly hauled towards a shipment container, its deep red far from calming. Its doors were pulled open revealing a large group of chained teenage girls. It was then the six newcomers realized they had just entered the fiery flames of hell.
"That's not what he was speaking of." Both runners froze at the chipper voice that spoke.
A caucasian man in his late twenties with hints of already graying auburn hair, deep sea green eyes, an carefree air around him approached. He smiled widely, revealing straight white teeth an one silver canine. "He was speaking about your nose."
Another man wearing a lab coat followed close behind, fiddling with a small metallic box cradled within their grasp.
"Teh girl whopped 'em good." A harsh nudge in his side came from his partner. "She whopped 'em good, Sir."
Green eyes stared at the two runners with pure utter disappointment, a dramatic sigh leaving his lips as he pulled a hand sanitizer bottle out of his button up chest pocket. Pouring a large glob onto his hand he put the bottle back in his pocket and made a show of slowly rubbing the liquid into his hands as he pretended to contemplate over the situation. "I believe I was told that the last batch would only contain six - clearly neither of you can count..."
The runners stiffened, the hair on the napes of their necks rising. One trembled, the other breaking into a sweat, both sets of eyes full of pure terror.
"Now, I'm sure you both are fully aware that if this becomes a problem...I have every right to dispose of-"
A ringing tick cut off the man, his eyes moving curiously slow to the device his scientist held. A look of surprise passed over the scientist's face, his eyes catching sea green. A nod of affirmation aloud the scientist to move closer to the two runners, running the small device over them for the ringing tick to remain at a steady pace. He passed over the limp body, the small metal device ringing louder, its tick sharper.
A large dementing grin caused many workers to take a step back. The grin held a secret glee, a sick excitement of a grown child becoming infatuated with a new toy.
"Actually boys," the green eyed man drawled. "Go on home. You have done a marvelous job tonight. Well done."
"Now," he turned his gaze to the limp body being transferred into his scientists arms, the small device going haywire. "Call up the ol' geezer, he'll wanna hear this."
"Abel," the red haired man sneered at his first name, disdain clearly on his features as he glanced at the scientist. "Take her below?"
Abel shrugged. "Throw her in the closet for all I care, just tell me when she wakes up. Don't let Gil prod her either - already know he'll throw a bitch fit if he finds out the crazy bastard cut her open without him."
With a nod the scientist walked away.
Abel glanced at the red shipment container, his lip curling in a disgusted sneer. The Underground Organization may be one unified nation full of large groups off grid, each holding their own individual hidden agendas, each more crooked, each far more corrupt and all hungering for the same indivisible goal; power. For one Crown Master of the Underground to meddle with another Crown Master's business lead to that groups downfall, a full clean sweep of a genocide, its members merely fickle dust in the wind; mere allegations with another crown master were not unheard of, for the benefits would bode well for both parties. The Crown Master of the Underground's Human Trafficking held safe harbor with many others, allowing its shipment containers to change locations across the world, keeping unwanted attention away from the hidden face of the Crown Master and its cargo on a cold dead trail.
The Crown Master of the Underground's Weaponry location had been the next safe harbor, leading to Abel's sheer distaste of the large shipment container. It cut into the set schedule he had set; Abel disliked anything or anyone who disrupted and unbalanced his time.
"Hey, you!" He snapped his fingers at the clean cut group of men catching their attention as he glanced down at his watch. "Where's your long face heifer at? This container has to be outta here in ten!"
Within a black abyss silence stretched with free reign, devoid of sound, devoid of feeling, nothing but a cold muted numbness. It was in this void where a dim pulsating blue energy beat, an orb softly crackling with living electricity. Light blue electrified smokey wisps lazily drifted around the orb, twirling, turning, dancing and skimming across it with breeze like caresses. One stray dark blue wisp, thicker and lifeless, billowed in an invisible breeze, its ends frayed as if it had been snapped from an unknown tether.
An unknown sensation suddenly caused the void to shift, an unfamiliar presence had breeched past the closed walls. No, they hadn't exactly breeched it, but they were there. They were on the outskirts.
It was a strange aura, strong, lively, and pulsing with energy. Energy that was much needed, desired. The orb floated to the outskirts of the void, it needed to be closer, it needed to find this energy - energy to bring life back into it, mend it, make it strong once again.
Beckoning the presence near, a strong fluctuation came from the strange essence. Emotions trickled within the black abyss causing its dormant conscious side to stir slightly. First confusion, then slowly fear.
What was it afraid of? It had nothing to fear with it being so close, it could keep it safe. Brushing along the edge, the faint orb sent a soft wave of its energy to the essence, pushing it out of the void with blue tendrils.
An emotion trickled through - uneasiness? The strange essence seemed to be curling in on itself, unaware that it was slowly opening itself up unconsciously, its aura of energy seeping out with the clear need to find someone, connect with someone, to be reassured it was safe, it wasn't alone. Green wispy streams entered the void, seeking, seeking for something, anything - the blue orb flared to a bright pulsating blue, crackling with renewed vigor as short thin tethers of wisps danced about, arcing to an fro as it extended to connect with the foreign energy.
Blue and green intertwined into a weak an unstable connection. A large more lively green mass of energy entered the void, having followed the beckoning of the blue tendrils. The essence was different from the electrified pulsating energy, it didn't have a defining shape, moving freely like that of flickering flame, its colors an array of all different greens, its energy sheer and glowing with an ethereal aura.
A Cybertronian's once dormant conciousnesss slowly awoke within the confines of a forced stasis lock, pure confusion and surprise washing over them - emotions not being theirs.
A once dying spark had found the power of a living energy to keep it beating.
And once again...sorry late update! How was it? I didn't really like how I took it in a different direction then how I originally planned but it works so meh. Underground Organization! We have a slight smidge of the Underground info now with more to come...now to just figure out that whole dynamic...heh. Until next time my fellow readers!