Chapter 7
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They are the property of Hasbro. Any copyrighted material found in this story is the property of its respected owner. Good reading
The city of Monterrey is in full swing to prepare for the arrival two high ranking American officials, Keith Alexander, head of the NSA and Ken Wainstein, director of Homeland Security. With the massive surge of violence between the drug cartels and police in the northern states of Mexico, the Americans have been very annxious about border security. The violence has even spilled into American territory on several occasions resulting in the deaths of a dozen American border patrol agents.
The U.S. Administration has recently decided to implement a new cooperation initiative between the U.S. and Mexico to help stem the violence.
At the luxury hotel the motorcade prepares to leave. Security has been tightened ever more because of a running gun battle between drug cartels and police just the night before. The pair of high ranking U.S. officials board their respective limos and the motorcade gets underway. The early morning sun beams down on the shinny black vehicles rumbling down the local highway. Just ten miles until they reach the city's assembly building.
Helicopters, both military and police follow, and keep a bird's eye view. Crossing over a long spanding bridge, the motorcade reaches the business part of the city, densly packed with its tall buildings. Just five miles left.
Entering the packed business sector, all but one of the helicopters stop following the American convoy. The sole police helicopter is small enough to follow within the city streets. The convoy of five vehicles, two SUVs leading and one taking the rear, with both limos in between, turn a corner, the sidewalks of the streets get more packed with the city's curious onlookers. Just four miles left, and the motorcade goes no further.
The leading SUVs brake hard as the police helicopter overhead crashes in flames. The rear escorting SUV explodes and jumps a few meters in the air and lands on its side. The leading SUVs try to pull to the sidewalk but fail to go anywhere as both drivers are decapitaed by shots from a high powered rifle.
A rocket leaps from one of the surrounding buildings' windows and slams into one of the SUVs, and shattering it into fiery chunks. The two limos peel away down an alley being chased by a pair of city police cruisers. The lone surviving SUV's passengers disembark from their disabled vehicle and try to find cover. Two are immediately cut down by sub-machine gun fire from a group of charging men wearing body armour and balaclavas. The others take cover behind the black SUV, but proves to be futile as one of the masked men fires underneath the vehicle and strikes their ankles and feet. Both secret service personnel drop in pain, their screams quickly silenced by the other men now turning the corner of the vehicle and popping a burst into their heads. One opens the SUV's door and removes the headless driver, the sniper slides down a rope to the street and jumps into the SUV with the others, the vehicles drives off in pursuit.
The two limos with the police cruisers make a run for it but are quickly cut short as the cruisers slam into the sides of the limos. The limos lose control with one flipping over and the other spinning to a stop. Five masked men with the same body armour exit the police cars, one carrying a Barret .50 calibre sniper rifle. Two shots into the spun limo's windshield kills the driver and his passenger. Three others run up to it and spray sub-machine gun fire into the car. It's passenger door opens and out limps the NSA director, he is shot in the head from a man standing right infront of him. Looking in, the men see no one else survived. They run to the flipped over limo and put rounds into the driver and his passenger, killing them. One of the doors is slightly open, its locking mechanism probably broken from the accident. It is pried open and its high ranking passenger, the Homeland Security Director, is pulled out disoriented. His compatriots are gunned inside the car without mercy.
The black SUV pulls up next to the men standing next to the flipped limo. They disembark and a very large man walks camly to the director, propping him up against the car.
"You'll...never get...away with this." He painfully says with some blood dripping from his mouth. "You're...gonnacoughs incure the...wrathcoughs...of my country."
The huge man, leans close to the director's face, looks squarely into his eyes, and with a soft voice. "That's the idea."
He puts a large revolver to the director's head and pulls the trigger. He looks around at his fellow conspirators.
Looking at the group he was with in the captured SUV. "Good work Combaticons."
He then looks at the group driving the police cars. "Nicely done Stunticons."
In the cargo bay of the C-17 Globemaster III, the usurpers put the final touches on their satellite upgrades. Scrapper, uses his diagnostic device to each of the satellites to ensure they have been installed properly. Satisfied with the scans, the human formed Constructicons re-wrap the cargo and strap them down to their respective skids. It has taken just over two hours to do the work, enough time for the hurricane to pass and for the Seeker brothers to get rid of the bodies.
Thundercracker and Skywarp slowly walk about the terminal, and clean up whatever traces of their presence. Scrapper enters the terminal building and greets the two brothers.
"Did you get rid of the bodies?" He asks.
"Yeah. We're just looking around the whole place now, getting rid of whatever evidence we find." TC responds.
"Good work. You two to go the aircraft and make your pre-flight checks." Scrapper orders.
Both nod and make their way outside. Scrapper takes one last look at the place and leaves. He enters the cargo bay, and informs his fellow Contrsucticons of the impending flight. Taking off their raincoats, Thundercracker sits in the pilot seat and Skywarp in the co-pilot. With the checks over, they click a few switches, and the huge Pratt&Whitney engines roar to life. The transport aircraft taxis to the runway, and increases its speed. The men in the cargo bay sit on the wall mounted seats and brace for takeoff.
The pilots each put a hand on the massive throttle and slowly push it. Running down the still water logged runway, the landing gears' tires sending the water high in the air, the transport plane lifts off the ground. Pulling back on his flight wheel, TC steadily increases the altitude to thirty thousand feet and levels off. He moves the aircraft's direction to an eastern heading and back onto its original flightpath. Skywarp, looking over a clipboard, inputs coordinates into the plane's autopilot.
After many passing hours, the Decepticons reach the vacinity of MacDill AFB in Florida, the plane's original destination. Both pilots lower altitude and slow the plane's speed. The hurricane has passed through hours ago and just a simple rainfall remains. The massive transport aircraft lowers the mamouth landing gears and softly touches down.
Once safely stopped at the area they were guided too, the massive rear door opens and military flatbed trucks begin to line up so the unloading proccess can begin. One by one the satellites are loaded onto the awaiting flatbeds, and soon drive off with their escort of state police and military personnel to their final destination, Cape Canaveral. Completely unaware of the upgrades made to them.
The refueling trucks disconnect their hoses and leave the area, while infront, a signalman waves his bright batons to signal engine start. The Pratt&Whitney engines roar to life and the Globemaster III taxis to the its starting point. TC and Skywarp both throttle up, the transport aircraft increases speed and takes off soon after. Reaching the desired altitude the aircraft levels off and heads back westward.
The midday sun brightly shines in the clear blue sky. The wind blows across the exposed hangar bay as one of the shuttles is being loaded with its much needed kit. Looking on, Optimus Prime sees his team forming up before him and focuses his attention to them. Brawn, Ratchet, Hound, and Jazz standing at attention await for their leader's mission brefing.
"Autobots, at the request of the United Nations, and the World Food Organisation, we will be ferrying food and water supplies to the Darfur refugee camp in Sudan. This...ever ongoing crisis has reached a new high when just a few days ago rebel and goverment forces have cut off all roads going to the Darfur camp. The rebels accuse the Sudanese of using the Darfur camp to ferry troops and weapons in disguise, and the Sudanese accuse the rebels of using the camp as a staging point for future attacks." Prime explains.
"Why can't the UN troops there deliver these supplies? Don't they have their own supply system there?" Brawn asks.
"Their convoys are in constant danger of being attacked, and the Peacekeeing force there is too small in number to provide adequate convoy escort. Plus our shuttles fly at a much greater speed, thus are much less vulnerable from attack." The Autobot leader asnwers.
"Will we have a secured landing zone?" Jazz asks.
"Yes. The Peacekeeping force there will provide perimeter security." Prime replies.
A small chuckle from Brawn. "Yeah, We heard that before."
"Something to add Brawn?" The Autobot commander inquires.
"Oh...no sir, nothing at all." The Land Rover rebuttals.
Prime scans over his assembled team until he feels a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he makes a slight smile behind his faceplate.
"What is it Elita?" The red Autobot softly asks.
"You're wanted in the communications room. It's the UN Security Council, I think they want a meeting with you." The pink femme answers.
"I'm about to leave on a mission. Can't they wait?" He queries.
"They say its very urgent. It concerns our current agreement with the humans, they want to negotiate a new one." The femme replies with a hint of worry.
"A new one? There is nothing wrong with the current agreement we have." He argues.
"They won't give me anymore details. It pretty much your eyes only at this point." His mate says.
He annoyingly exhales and looks at his team. "Jazz, you're team leader now..."
"I'll go in your place." Elita One interrupts.
"No, it's too dangerous there." He then looks at his second in command. "Jazz! Get Ironhide here..."
"I can take care of myself...Optimus Prime. I've been doing it isolated on Cybertron for millions of years. I can handle it." She retorts.
Prime knows that when his mate addresses him in his full name, she's annoyed with him. He knows she won't let it go, and grudgenly accepts.
"...Alright...you can go in my place." The red truck relents. "Be careful."
"I always do." She assures him.
The new team leader Jazz looks over the others and gives the order to board the shuttle. The last of the supplies are loaded and the landing pad is cleared. The engines start and the Autobot team is sent off on their mission of mercy.
The Autobot leader looks on in angst, knowing it should be him on that shuttle and not his love. He thought he lost her for good on Cybertron a long time ago, only to find her with a group of rebels. After their re-union, he never wanted to let her out of his sight for fear of losing her again. Every time she is sent on a mission without him, Prime always gets nervous and doesn't relax until she returns.
She can take care of herself...still... its me who should be out there, its my mission. The Autobot leader thinks to himself. ...What do the damn humans want now?
Infront of a electronics store, a crowd assembles. Their attention is drawn to the lastest events happening not around the world, but right in their backyard. The words BREAKING NEWS scrolls at the bottom of the screen with the CNN logo in the top corner.
"Welcome. We have just received confirmed reports of disturbing events in Mexico. The motorcade carrying the directors has been attacked. There are no survivors. The purpotrators have been identified as a drug cartel hit team with help from corrupted local police officers. The drug cartel team hit the motorcade first with high powered sniper rifles and rocket launchers, destroying two Secret Service SUVs and a police helicopter, which was followed up by automatic weapons fire." The CNN anchor reports.
The anchor takes a breath and continues. "The motorcade's limos made a dash for the highway with a pair of police cruisers in escort. This is where things got alot worse as the escorting police cars slammed into the limos stopping them completely. Around half a dozen men exited the cruisers and attacked what was left of the motorcade, killing both NSA and Homeland Security directors and their secret service agents. No mercy has been given. We will have more details for you as events unfold."
The assembled crowd stare in hushed awe at this. Some closely holding their spouses, and a few wiping tears. Some leave and try to go about their business while some others just stay incase more comes to light. Other news reports are broadcast such as developments in the Persian Gulf, some Russian oil and natural gas facilities are beginning to increase output, and an air force C-17 Globemaster III crash lands into its own airbase causing massive casualties and collateral damage.
A door slides open and a winged figure enters the darkened room. The lights automatically turn on and brightly illuminates the space. The red/white individual rubs his right wrist which has an attachment wraped around it. It doesn't feel comfortable, but he will tolerate it for the time being. A new weapon developed for hand to hand combat, the energon blade. The winged figure is to test it the next day in actual combat, but he hasn't been in much of a fighting mood lately. His last conversation with his former brother has hit him hard, but he doesn't let it show as it will look like weakness infront of his peirs.
Starscream sits down on his recharge bed and looks at his new attachment, not paying much attention to it. He reaches over and taps on a console and a holographic screen pops up. He slowly scans through the files and clicks on an item in one of his personal folders. A picture of two Decepticons appears on the holographic screen, one a mech, and the other a femme, both are Seekers from the looks of their bodies, and are holding eachother closely while looking at whom ever is taking their picture.
Starscream takes two fingers and follows the facial features of the femme and mech. He could always depend on the two individuals for a sympathetic ear, and compassion. Not anymore though, not ever since their tragic passing, which has harmed Starscream the most. His two brothers weren't there when it happened, weren't there when he most needed a sympathetic ear or a compassionate gesture, they just weren't there when he most nedded them.
He realises that for the first time in his long life, that he is truly alone. No Decepticon respects him, his brothers now rejecting him, and a leader who shows him no mercy. Looking at the holographic pic, a little bit of pink fluid starts to leak from his optics.
He thinks to himself. Why...why did you have to die?