A/N: OK, so let me know if things are moving a little too fast. As an author, it's hard for me to judge. But anywho, here's the next chappy. A cookie to those who find the throw-back character from the last story! Just to warn you, this is a character-building chapter, but one vitally necessary to set the scene for things to come, so read carefully! Things are gonna get real prickly, real fast so hold onto your tailfins!

Chapter 4: Burning Bridges

**Two Weeks Later…**

"And so…Once you have simplified the equation to its simplest form we can now attempt to move X over to one side of the equals sign…"

Dear God! Will this class never end!? Maria thought tiredly as she allowed her forehead to plop silently down onto the desk, her upright, monstrous Algebra II textbook shielding her action from Mr. Woodson's view. I swear, Ben Stein could teach this class with more enthusiasm than this. For the third time in as many minutes, Maria sighed in exasperation. It wasn't that she hated math; on the contrary it was one of her favorite subjects. But Maria had quickly discovered that an engaging teacher made all the difference in the world and Mr. Woodson was anything but.

Once again she allowed her mind to wander back to that mysterious night when her fathe…no…Stinger's friend had mysteriously disappeared in the middle of the street. It was a curious little scene that had repeated itself numerously over the past two weeks, and it was something she absolutely refused to bring to Stinger's attention. Her biological father or not, she didn't want to have to speak to him any more than necessary. She still wrestled with the idea of having a father; she and her mother had gone for so long without a man in either of their lives that Maria felt she really didn't need one, so why bother? Why get close to someone if it only meant they'll leave you? Stinger had left her mother to fend for the both of them and then her mother had been taken by a drunk driver. What was the point? Maria choked back a bitter laugh. God had such a cruel sense of humor in giving her a father she didn't want and taking a mother that was all she needed.

Another sigh. At least things had settled into a somewhat tolerable routine. She would wake-up, eat a silent breakfast with Carla, go to school, come home, do her homework and then if there was any time left, she would sneak off to the airfield and watch the aircraft take-off and land until the sun went down. That was one advantage to being the Lt. Colonel's daughter—the ability to go where she wanted without too much of a fuss. Besides, watching all the different aircraft land, take-off, and taxi was relaxing in a way. Not many would find the ear-splitting shriek of jet turbine engines relaxing, but Maria was fascinated by the thought that for such large pieces of man-made machinery, they could fly so gracefully through the air. Aerodynamics intrigued her and she loved watching it in action.

She rarely saw Stinger and she planned it that way. So much the better. It was bad enough she had to spend her mornings with Carla, but at least the redheaded woman gave her the space she asked for and never pried to deeply. Maria could respect that. Stinger on the other hand…well, let's just say he was a little more inquisitive into her daily doings when he saw her.

"And finally, we are ready to solve the equation. Maria, could you give us the answer please?" Mr. Woodson's voice broke into her reverie.

"Huh? Oh, yes. The answer is X = 37," Maria supplied somewhat hastily. Good thing I had that one worked out five minutes ago, she thought.

Mr. Woodson scowled at having been thwarted once more. Try as he might, he could never catch Maria day-dreaming even though he knew she did it day in and day out. That girl was too smart for her own good. "That is correct, Miss Kline," he replied grudgingly only to receive a smug smirk in return. His scowl deepened. The nerve of some of these kids!

RRRIIINNNGGG!!!

The bell echoed loudly as classes ended for the day. Hundreds of students flooded out of the doorways and to the lockers lining the hallways eager to escape the prison that was deemed a necessary evil to their society. Maria took her time; it wasn't as if she had any reason to rush home after all. She gathered her books and left the classroom carefully navigating the jostling bookbags and swinging messenger bags of her fellow school mates. She stopped next to her locker, opened the door with slow deliberateness and placed her unnecessary texts on the bottom shelf. When she closed the door, she was startled to find Marcus Donahue sidled up next to her on the other side.

"Hey baby!" He said in a chipper voice. "Got any plans later this evening?" He asked innocently, a large grin parting his lips.

"Yes, I do," she replied curtly, "And they don't involve you!" She turned sharply on her heel and proceeded to walk down the hallway. Jerk.

"Awe, come on sweet thing! Why do you have to be like that?" She heard him plea behind her. Honestly, do all men have a listening problem or just the ones who wear football jerseys? "I'll buy you dinner!"

I'll give you a black-eye! And it'll be for free! "No thanks!" she called while never looking back. But it wasn't long that she heard hurried footsteps trying to catch up with her. "Ah, come on Maria. Why not? Come on; my treat," he beseeched her, tagging along at her elbow.

She gave him a fierce, condescending glare as she replied, "What part of 'no' do you not understand?" She briskly walked out the door and down the steps trying her hardest to outpace Donahue and praying desperately that he would take the hint already.

"Don't you know how many girls would love for me to be asking them out right now?"

"Oh, really? So why don't you go find one of them and ask them out and leave me the hell alone!" After several strides, Marcus finally stopped following her and watched her disappear around the corner, her abrupt answers having no damper on his persistence.

"One day, Maria! One day you will go out with me and enjoy it!"

Whatever. Dream on. She kept on walking. It wasn't that she didn't find Marcus Donahue unattractive, no, he was quite a catch. Maria just didn't care for a guy who thought he was God's gift to women. Ever since she began attending Desert High School the Varsity football player had his eye on her. With sharp green eyes, chestnut-colored hair and an athletic build, sports play came easy to Donahue, as did the grades; he was as sharp in the books as he was on the field. But he also had an immaculate record as a heartbreaker as well. Hence, her disdain and his continuous pursuit to woo her.

It was on the lonely walk back home that Maria's thoughts once again drifted to her father's mysterious, disappearing friend. He was quite the looker too, and charming in that bashful, shy kind of way. Suddenly the girl shook her head as if she'd been slapped. Did I just think that? Ewwe!!

But despite her best efforts, her mind kept flirting back to that brief meeting and the even briefer sight of Lt. Ray Prawsky pulling his disappearing act. Something just wasn't right with that whole picture. Men couldn't just up and disappear, could they? Well, unless their wives were mad at them, but still—to do it literally?

Hmmm. Maria re-shouldered her satchel and strode up the steps of her house. She barely heard Carla express a greeting, her mind and attention elsewhere. Thank God it was Friday; homework could wait until Sunday. For the time being she only wanted to retreat to her favorite spot and watch the jets take-off into the sunset.

**Washington D.C.**

"Are you sure?"

"Who or what else could be causing this, Mr. President? We've never had an energy crisis escalate to this magnitude before. I would almost bet my next year's salary that the Decepticons are behind this."

"But there hasn't been any evidence indicating such."

"With all due respect Mr. President, they are Decepticons, alien invaders hell bent on taking over our planet. Must we really wait to prove their innocence or guilt?"

"I understand what you're saying, Mr. Castlehoff, but the Decepticons have been under the radar for quite some time and I'm really not too keen into provoking them into attacking."

"But Mr. President don't you see? They already are! They're sucking this nation dry of energy resources and we're just sitting here doing nothing! Our national security is at stake, sir. And if we don't take action soon, we very well may never be able to."

"So what do you propose we do, Castlehoff? Usher in the next era of the Apocalypse?"

"No sir, not the Apocalypse. Now I've already spoken with General Garrison on this matter and he concurs with me. If we can attack them first, catch them by surprise when they're not expecting us to attack, then we stand a fairly good chance of dealing them a fatal blow."

"A fatal blow? Mr. Castlehoff, nothing in our arsenal could be considered powerful enough to deal 'a fatal blow.' That and we don't have any idea where on this planet those metallic monstrosities are hiding; not even the Autobots know."

At this point, the other man grinned knowingly. "Well now sir, I think it's time you need to meet with me and your Chiefs of Staff."

**Edwards AFB**

The sun was setting in blaze of fire on the western horizon. Off in the distance two F-15 Eagles were streaking skyward into the sunset, waves of heat shimmering across the air in their wake. Maria nestled herself against the trunk of the tree and idly added a few more defining lines onto the sketch in front of her. It was an F-15 in flight, gracefully flying between two towers of billowy, white cumulus clouds miles above the problems and worries that plagued all Earth dwellers. The teen sat back and observed her handy work, a small grin pulling at one corner of her mouth. Not too shabby for never trying a jet before. Suddenly, a slight shuffling noise from behind her quickly caused the girl to turn in alarm.

"Easy kiddo," Stinger said soothingly as he crouched down on his heels next to her, "Didn't mean to startle you."

Maria huffed with annoyance and rolled her eyes. Great. This was all she needed, her washed-up, wanna-be father coming to spoil the one small moment of peace in her life. "What do you want?"

Stinger raised his brows at her harsh tone, but opted not to call her out on it. "Well, nothin', hon. Nothin'. I just thought I might find you here while I was on my way back to the house."

For a time, the two sat in heavy silence, listening to the roar of jet engines in the distance and watching all the different aircraft taxi to and from the various hangars and outbuildings. But what was once a peaceful silence was quickly turning into suffocating tension. Finally after almost five excruciating minutes of quiet , Stinger spoke up.

"You know, when I first got reassigned here, I used to come to this very same spot and do just what you're doing now."

"Stare out into nothing?" Maria sniped. She refused to look at him, choosing instead to stare vacantly out over the small expanse.

"You know what I meant," he said. It was then he reached into his pocket and withdrew the small bronze-colored token with the Seeker's crest on its face. He turned it over and over, studying its every detail, grey eyes warm with remembrance. Maria glanced over and despite her better judgement, the strange coin caught her attention.

"What's that?" she asked quietly, nodding to the coin in Stinger's hand.

"This? Well this was given to me by an old friend of mine," Stinger answered, rubbing a forefinger over the metal's smooth face.

"One of your Army friends?" Maria pursued, pretending to turn her attention back to her drawing.

"Air Force," he corrected gently, "and yes, you might say that." He smiled knowingly to himself. If she only knew.

"Is that why you still carry it around with you?" She began adding some shading to the jet's wingtips, all the while keeping her attention on the sketchpad.

Stinger suppressed his surprise. He hadn't expected for Maria to notice something like that. She was paying more attention to things than he would normally give her credit for. "Yeah, something like that. It means a lot to me and I want to keep it close—like I would like to do to you."

Maria snorted derisively. "Spare me your sentimentality." She stood up and closed her sketch book with finality and for the first time since their conversation, looked Stinger in the eye. "I'm not going to be here long enough for you to waste it." And with that she turned on her heel and marched off the hill, leaving him still crouched in the same position, the coin still idly rolling across his fingers. He gave a tired sigh. Was she ever going to accept him?

With honey-colored hair fanning out behind her, Maria took the steps two at a time as she hustled up the stairwell to her room. Tears were threatening to spill down her cheeks and the sooner she made it to that safe haven the better. As soon as she cleared the last step she dashed into her room and flung herself on the bed, not even noticing that her bedroom door had failed to latch all the way.

She sobbed silently into her pillow, allowing all the frustration, all the anger, sadness, and despair to cascade down her cheeks. God, she missed her so much! Life was so much simpler when Mom was still alive. Why did He take her away? Why?

A perfect storm of emotions was tearing her up inside. She wanted to hate him; she wanted to hate Stinger for all that time he was never in her life. She wanted to hate him now for trying to make it up to her. But she just couldn't. And therein lay all the frustration, all the anger, and all the rejection, all the denial. Even after the way she had been treating him, he still talked to her, still tried to involve her in his life, still tried to show her love. It was tearing her up inside.

A fresh wave of tears streamed down her flushed cheeks and into the pale cream pillow. In a sudden fit of frustration she pounded her two small fists into the pillow's downy soft center. Her voice, muffled by the pillow, barely reflected the despair and turmoil roiling around within her. She cried long into the evening, wishing everything was as it used to be and drowning in sorrow over what really was.

**The next morning…**

Stinger stared at his conference phone with ever growing dread. It was getting close to the end of his work day (a short day, thank God!) and he had one more conference call to make it through before he could call it quits. Unfortunately for him this last call was with the Secretary of Defense, a man with whom he could go his whole life and be happy never speaking with him again. Although why in the world the SecDef wanted a private word with him was anyone's guess. But one thing was for sure, if the SecDef did want to talk to him—and he did—then Stinger would almost bet his rank that the news would be anything but good.

Rriinngg! Rriinngg! The shrill cry of the telephone interrupted his musings. Oh, boy. With a steady hand that could only come from years of experience in a cockpit, Stinger reached over and answered the phone, "Lt. Colonel Kesinger."

"Is this the infamous Colonel Kesinger of the Latverian Fiasco?" a smooth, suave voice asked over the teleconferencing line. Stinger cringed. The only time anyone made reference to his previous feats in that God damn country was when they wanted something—bad—and this was shaping up to look like just the case. Why am I not surprised?

"It is. What can I do for you Mr. Secretary?" Secretary of Defense Bob Castlehoff—a man about as useful to this country as a rain gauge in the Mohave Desert. Stinger had no use for the arrogant bastard; he was a man on a power trip and screw anyone who stood in his way. Not exactly someone Stinger wanted to report to, but like some issues in the military he faced, he really didn't have a choice.

"Ah! You're just the man I've been wanting to talk to."

"Glad I can be at your service," Stinger added, although he didn't mean a word of it. SecDef Castlehoff wasn't exactly on his list of friendlies and the sheer fact that this man had requested a private phone conversation with him had already put the Colonel on a razor's edge. Nothing this man needed from him could spell anything good.

"Good! Good! I was so hoping." Beat. "You know, Colonel, it has been brought to my attention that you once had very close dealings with some old friends of ours," Castlehoff continued.

"Well that depends, sir. What friends are you implying?" Stinger asked as he wearily dragged his fingers through his hair. Normally his office felt warm and welcoming, but right now he wanted nothing more to do than to bolt like a deer for the thicket.

"Decepticon friends, Colonel," the suave voice replied. Stinger's blood chilled. This wasn't good. No one was to bring this issue back up, even the SecDef; it was supposed to be a closed file.

"What of it, sir?" he asked cautiously. Don't panic. See how much he knows first. If you get all fidgety they're bound to jump on you.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we Colonel? I know that you used to be on 'friendlier' terms with some of those metal monstrosities than most of us here in Washington. And with the energy crisis getting worse we need to make the most of every possible link we have. I want you to get in contact with your 'old friends.'"

"Sir, with all due respect, if I were to do what you ask they'd more than likely vaporize me. Latveria was a one-time deal," Stinger countered. Play it safe.

"Oh, I don't think that's the case, Colonel," Castlehoff said, "You know, I think those metal heads have a soft spot for you."

"What makes you say that, sir?" This isn't lookin' good.

"Well, Colonel Kesinger, I've been doing a bit of research on my own here lately and I find it mighty curious that over the past three years or so, your operational squadron has the least amount of casualties whenever engaged with the Decepticon Air Attack Forces. Now seein' as how three of the top Decepticon lieutenants were the ones to get you out of Latveria safely so many years previous, someone as smart as me would have to say there's a little more than coincidence at work here, now isn't there? Do you catch my drift Colonel?"

Stinger's blood instantly went from chilled to frozen. So someone had seen the numbers and of all people to call him on it it would have to be Castlehoff. But why now? Why bring this up now? What did Castlehoff have in store?

"OK, what do you want, Castlehoff?" Stinger asked pointedly, calling the SecDef by name.

"It's simple, Kesinger. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you have been maintaining relations with the Decepticon Command Trine. Being Secretary of Defense has its perks, after all. Now, most people in Washington would consider such dealings as—treason—at the very worst. You know, consorting with the enemy, potential spying, fraternizing…a whole host of charges that I know you don't want to happen to you."

"And your point is?" Stinger challenged, although he felt his blood freeze within his veins. Is this really happening? How in the hell did he know?

"Don't cock an attitude with me, Colonel. You're in a very precarious position from where I'm sitting and the only reason you aren't being tried for treason now is because your 'expertise' so to speak, is needed."

"Needed?" Stinger scoffed. "In case you didn't know, Mr. Secretary, they contact me; not the other way around and it's not a particularly healthy thing to ignore Decepticons when they contact you, but I'm sure you already knew that."

The ex-pilot heard the other man chuckle darkly. "Who contacts who is of little importance to me, Colonel. What is important is that you do have contacts within the Decepticon ranks, rather high contacts at that, and I say you will use those contacts to help us resolve this energy crisis."

"Is that what this is all about? The energy crisis? Do you honestly believe that the Decepticons are behind this?" Stinger asked, anger beginning to flush his cheeks.

"Do you honestly believe that they're not? Although I don't know why I'm acting so surprised—what with you being a Decepticon sympathizer and all," Castlehoff said acidly.

"Just because I was forced to work with one seven years ago to get out of a bad situation alive, doesn't mean I'm willing to throw my lot in with an alien race hell bent on destroying my country, not to mention my planet. Now, I was told that that incident was reviewed, analyzed and deemed forgiven seven years ago. Why in the hell are you throwing this in my face?" Stinger began shaking his head in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. That was all in the past; he'd been hailed as a hero for crying out loud. Why was this bastard trying to turn the tables on him?

"Just because you were pardoned seven years ago for that 'incident' doesn't forgive you for your fraternizations since then, Colonel. You can't deny them."

"Yeah, well you can't prove them!"

"Care to test that theory?" Castlehoff fired back. "Now listen up Colonel; I'm gonna give you an option. Either you tell us where your Decepticon friends are hiding out or I'm going to instantaneously make you Public Enemy Number One in the eyes of all your friends and family, not to mention the American public. And in your case, I'll ensure that the truth will be your undoing."

Stinger remained quiet. His day had gone from zero to Hell in under ten seconds and he was at a loss for what to do. Can this really be happening? Come up with something, anything, to stall for time. Gotta think this through. Got to. But I can't betray them, hell no! Shit, I don't even know where their base is! I guess this is my defining moment. God help me and my family.

"Sir, I don't know what you think you're going to gain by blackmailing me, but what I can assure you is this: If this is how you choose to reward my loyalty to service of country then and now, consider this notification of my resignation."

"I understand, Colonel. So be it, but you might want to start considering your new role as an enemy of the state." Click.

Stinger slowly slid the receiver back into its cradle. What the hell was he going to do now? He slowly stood and ran a hand through his hair. He had just gone from unsung hero to public enemy number one in all the time it took to say "Bob's your uncle." I knew there was a reason I despised Castlehoff, that lying, two-faced son of a bitch! Well, first things first. Carla needed to know about this. From there the two of them could develop a plan and figure out what their next move was. But whatever they were going to do, they better do it and do it quickly. Time was now critical.

Giving up Skywarp and the Trine was out of the question. Even if he knew where they were, Stinger would risk imprisonment before turning over his friends. He withdrew the coin and fingered the tiny homing button. Not now. Not yet. Never use your ace in the hole this early in the game. As the old pilot slid the coin back into his pocket and prepared to leave his office, he felt a strong sense of satisfaction in knowing he made the right decision. Skywarp and his pals may be on the opposite side of fence in this war, but Stinger wasn't going to endanger their friendship over this. They had no evidence that the Cons were at the root of the energy crisis--at least not to his knowledge. What he had just told the Secretary of Defense all but signed his own arrest warrant, but there were some values that transcended politics and even battle lines. By not cooperating with Castlehoff his actions would be construed as treason. But it was either betray the Trine's trust in him as a human, something that could benefit the human race later down the road, or betray his country by refusing to find and provide certain information. It most certainly was an unfavorable situation and one Stinger didn't know if he'd be able to get out of this time.

A/N: Dun dun DUN!! What's going to happen to Stinger now? Where do Skywarp and the Trine fit in all this? And what of Maria--how is she going to react to her father being an instantaneous criminal? Stay tuned to find out!