Chapter 4

Several hours later the Stunticons were back in Tagon Heights, spinning their wheels on the circular track as they goaded other road users into racing against them, or simply intimidated passersby with their antics.

Wildrider appreciated the freedom and exhilaration that came with owning the roads and being able to do as he pleased, whenever he pleased – unlike at Decepticon headquarters where he and his team mates were expected to answer to the established chain of command, and to follow their rules and code of conduct. It was for much the same reason, in fact, why he liked Blackjack much more than he did their former leader, Motormaster, who'd always liked to take charge of his team and rule them all with an iron fist. 'It's my way, or the highway,' he'd often said.

However, since Blackjack had nominated himself as their new leader soon after their defeat at Kolkular by the Decepticons, the Stunticons had enjoyed a newfound freedom that they had never been allowed to experience before. Unlike Motormaster, Blackjack didn't care what they did as long as it didn't get him into trouble. In fact, they rarely showed up on time for any assigned tasks given to them by either Megatron directly, or more often by Soundwave or one of the Air Command trine. Sometimes, they wouldn't even bother to do anything at all, which usually meant that the Combaticons had to take over and complete the jobs that had been assigned to them.

Dead End came to a stop beside his team mate, Drag Strip, in vehicle mode, braking suddenly as he did so. "Hey, Dragster. Where'd Blackjack go? He hardly ever races with us anymore," he said, looking around for their team leader.

"He said he's meeting up with his old friend again. Said he'd be back soon," Drag Strip answered and, satisfied with that, turned himself around and performed a wheel spin before launching himself forward again onto the road.

Inside the domed building nearby, Black Shadow was already waiting for the Stunticon leader. He was accompanied, as always, by his sidekick Blue Bacchus, as he stood in the shadows near one corner of the room. "So, did you get it?" he asked, getting straight to business.

Blackjack looked back over his shoulder to make sure that he hadn't been followed, and tried not to let the feeling of paranoia get the better of him. Relax, he thought; he was alone. "Uh, well, you see, there've been some complications–"

Black Shadow stepped toward him, and for the first time Blackjack became aware of just how powerful and intimidating this mech actually was as he stood glaring at him. His easy-going, casual manner from the last time they'd met was now all but gone, replaced by a cold and unforgiving exterior. "I don't want to hear any excuses, Blackjack." Then he pulled back a little, considering the debt he was still owed for the case of natural energon crystals he'd offered the Stunticon as incentive. "You've got until tomorrow to give me the tech. Don't let me down."

Blackjack's optics widened in surprise. "Tomorrow?" He shook his head in exasperation. "I'm going to need a bit more time than that. I promise I'll get it to you–"

"Tomorrow, no excuses," the silver and red mech insisted. "I'll be waiting." Then he stepped away and walked out of the room through the open doorway to his right without another word, leaving Blue Bacchus alone with Blackjack.

"You heard him: tomorrow," Blue said, nodding mirthfully before giving him a cruel smile. "You know what happens to those who disappoint Black Shadow, don't you?" he threatened, his tone deceptively soft.

Blackjack stiffened, but said nothing. Despite only ever having dealt with the mech on a business level, he'd heard the rumours about what usually happened to Black Shadow's business partners when they did not make good on their promises, and he did not want to end up as another one of those statistics.

Ignoring the blue mech's sneering grin he quietly exited the building, his thoughts now turned to desperate measures.

Gangs of disgruntled Destrons and angry looters marauded Kaon's major cities and surrounding areas, which meant that it was not a good time for most mechs to be out on the streets alone. One such gang attempted to scale the outer wall of Kolkular headquarters, the Decepticons' home base; however, their fortress was well built, and try as they might they could not infiltrate its perimeter.

Waiting patiently in the shadows close by, Ravage watched them with interest as he waited for the Stunticons to return to base. He had followed the five car-formers to Kaon's border several hours ago, at which point they had sped away in the direction of Tyrest, and so he had decided that he would await their return rather than waste time and energy attempting to chase them across Kaon's border and into neighbouring regions; he simply would not have been fast enough on his own.

So he'd bade his time, and had waited vigilantly just outside Kolkular's perimeter, until his patience finally paid off. Alerted, he stood up on all fours as he watched Blackjack approach in vehicle mode, accompanied by his team mates, returning from his 'small errand'. Then he watched as the five mechs transformed into their robot modes and entered the fortress through the main gate using their standard security codes. Making certain he was not seen, Ravage began to follow them.

It wasn't until several hours later, when he was sure that the last of the Constructicons had left for the evening to recharge, that Blackjack dared approach their workshop entrance, looking over his shoulder left and right before reaching out to touch the access panel on the door. It was dark, and the Central Tower was still and silent as most of the Decepticons had already retired to their personal quarters for the evening.

For an instant, he panicked at the thought that perhaps access to the workshop would require special security clearance – in his hurry he hadn't thought of that – but then was relieved to discover that the door slid open upon his command, and he stepped inside the room. Stopping for a moment he activated his helm spotlight and then headed towards the same work bench from which he'd seen Scrapper pick up the data pad that contained the test program earlier that day.

He carefully sorted through the pile of data pads until he found the one he was after, picked it up and activated it. As he began to read through its contents searching for the plans he wanted, he heard the sound of someone moving around in the back of the workshop, and he looked up to face whoever was there, data pad still in hand. He had not expected anyone to be around at such a late hour, and cursed silently for not having checked the area more thoroughly beforehand. Regardless, it was too late to worry about that now.

The figure of the mech stepped closer until Blackjack could see that it was Scrapper. "Blackjack?" the green and purple mech asked in surprise, and then stood there watching him for a long moment before his gaze settled on the data pad in Blackjack's hand.

When Blackjack became aware of the focus of Scrapper's attention, he smiled and gave the Constructicon a small shrug. "Huh. Didn't think you'd be here so late," he said, attempting to appear casual.

But Scrapper wasn't buying it and he became quiet, watching the black mech with a sense of uncertainty and apprehension. Finally, he pointed towards the data pad. "What are you doing with that?"

"Oh, this?" he said in feigned surprise, holding up the pad. "Well, actually, I've been meaning to ask you for a small favour."

Again, Scrapper took several long moments to reply. The fact that his expression was hidden behind a face mask made Blackjack feel increasingly uncomfortable, not to mention irked. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Blackjack slowly stepped closer to Scrapper, glancing briefly around the darkened workshop to make certain that they were alone. When he was satisfied, he replied in a lowered voice. "I just wanted to see the plans for the combiner tech program, that's all." He held out the data pad for Scrapper to take. "Is it on here?"

The Constructicon shook his head slightly, as if this latest request by the Stunticon was proving to be all too much for him to deal with, and he slowly took the data pad from him, glanced down at the display before turning it off. Then he turned away to put it inside a drawer just behind him. "Why do you want to see it?" he asked, as he began to turn back to face Blackjack.

The next thing Scrapper became aware of was a disruptor gun pointed directly at his chest, and Blackjack's nervous smile was replaced by a somber frown. "Just show me the plans," the black mech said, and then indicated with the gun towards the stack of data modules and other equipment on the bench beside him.

Scrapper straightened slightly, but made no sudden moves as he tried to determine exactly what was going on, and what he should do. If he refused to hand over the plans for his combiner tech, there was no telling what Blackjack might do next. He supposed that it depended on just how desperate the mech was to get his hands on them; this was either a completely selfish act, or Blackjack was in some kind of serious trouble – Scrapper wasn't sure which. Finally he made his decision and slowly reached across to open the drawer behind him, all the while not taking his optics off the gun. "You won't be able to use it without a compatible team," he began to explain as he slowly retrieved one of the data pads from the drawer, but Blackjack was not interested in what he had to say.

His gun motioned towards the darkened display on the pad. "Show me," he said, obvious nervousness in his voice, and Scrapper turned on the display screen, input a security code to unlock the encrypted program, and held the device out in front of him. Blackjack's optics flashed briefly about the room in an effort to shake his uneasiness, and then he snatched the pad from Scrapper, looked down at the schematics on the display. After a few tense moments, he nodded in satisfaction before slowly looking up to meet the other's gaze.

Then, before Scrapper could do anything to stop him, Blackjack fired his gun. Scrapper staggered back a few steps as the powerful disruptor beam hit him directly in the chest, and he fell backwards onto the work bench behind him, off-lined.

Blackjack turned and began to head out of the workshop in a hurry, data pad in hand, but stopped suddenly when he heard the sound of a low growl near the entrance. In the darkened room, he could not see where it was coming from and he panicked, began to back away from the exit as he looked for another way out of the room. But before he knew what was happening, he saw a small, sleek form leap at him from the shadows and he stumbled backwards, flailing his arms as he attempted to knock it away in mid-air, but it managed to land on him with enough force that he fell backwards onto the floor. He became aware then that the attacker was one of the Cassetticons that worked closely with Soundwave – he recalled his encounter with the communications officer earlier that day and realized grimly that he must have raised his suspicions, enough for the mech to send Ravage to follow him.

As Blackjack struggled to get away, the jaguar-like form of the small Decepticon grabbed a hold of the data pad with his jaws and snatched it out of his hand, and in the time that it took for him to realize what had happened, Ravage had already leaped away back into the shadows, and was gone.

Left with no other recourse but to run, Blackjack picked himself up and bolted out of the workshop, transformed and sped down the hallway in his sports car mode, hoping to make a clean get away before Ravage alerted Soundwave and the other Decepticons of what he had done. However, he was already too late; just as he exited the Central Tower he heard the sound of the base alarm being raised, and then he caught sight of Soundwave waiting for him outside, concussion blaster aimed and at the ready. Before he could turn back to find an escape route, he felt the pulse from the blaster hit him full force, causing him to revert back into robot mode, and then a second pulse knocked him into unconsciousness.