Like all fanfiction writers, I do not own Transformers (I do own my OCs though) and make no money off this what-so-ever.
Warning(s): N/A
Chapter 9
"Alicia," Mikaela begins nervously, "my dad and I were thinking last night about your mission to Chicago. It's obvious that time is of the essence for your mission, so we decided that we'd give you the money needed to make the trip to Chicago. It's not much, but it's the least we can do for you."
I stare at Mikaela in shock, "But won't we be taking from your shop's funds?"
"We have enough to get by," Mikaela replies, "what's important now is rescuing your friend before it's too late."
"Alicia! Mikaela!" Mr. Banes shouts from the main room, "Get over here we have a problem!"
"Coming!" We yell from the break room.
We dash out of the room to see Megan sitting on the floor leaning against a wall covered in cuts and scrapes. "What happened?" I ask almost immediately.
"Megan says a wild animal attacked her while she was walking to work," Mr. Banes replies, "but she won't let anyone near her to help her."
"Let me try," I offer, "I'm pretty sure I know the reason she won't let anyone near."
"Is there anything we can do?" Mikaela asks.
"Call the others and tell them you're gonna be opening late," I reply as I walk over and kneel to look at Megan, "I don't care what excuse you have to make up just do it. No one else must know about this at all. And bring me my red and gray messenger bag that I left in my locker, it's my first aid kit."
"Why can't anyone else know?" Mr. Banes asks as Mikaela goes to retrieve my bag.
"In all likelihood Megan's a cyborg," I answer, "her unnatural eye and hair color and refusal of help when injured are all dead giveaways. The less who know about us the better."
Megan scoots away from me warily, "How did you know? You're not one of them are you?"
"Project Arctic Moon was shut down when Sector Seven disbanded in 2007," I reply as I scoot closer to her.
"How do you know about Sector Seven?" Mikaela asks suspiciously as she hands me my bag.
"I'd ask the same thing of you, considering they were an above top-secret government organization," I remark.
"Don't ask," Mikaela replies nervously, "it's something I can't tell."
"She had a run-in with them back in 2007," The AllSpark murmurs in my mind.
"The Initiative had spies in Sector Seven," I sigh, "we'd always overhear fragments of conversations about them. Project Arctic Moon was essentially Sector Seven's version of The Initiative's Project Cyber. Project Cyber is the project most cyborgs I know escaped from, mostly because few cyborgs ever escaped Sector Seven when the project was shut down and all the damning evidence was destroyed, including the test subjects."
"Did anyone else get out?" Megan murmurs almost hopefully.
"I wouldn't know," I reply as I inspect Megan's injuries, "I don't have access to the files The Initiative has stolen, but there is a hacker in the Chicago enclave that does. My group's already planning on going there, so if you'd like we could take you up there."
"You'd do that?" Megan asks incredulously, "You barely know me!"
"Everyone deserves to know if a friend you knew lived or died," I reply as I start cleaning Megan's multiple cuts and scrapes, "If they survived, then you can take comfort in the fact that they're still out there and maybe you'll find them. If they died, at least you have the closure of knowing instead of being left to wonder."
"But what about the rest of your group?" Megan murmurs while wincing at the sting of rubbing alcohol, "What will they think?"
"I've already told them a bit about you," I answer, "I'll just have to give them some forewarning. Now what kind of wild animal did all this?"
"A silver-gray bobcat with one red eye," Megan whispers, "it jumped out of the bushes and attacked me."
"Sounds like one of Steven's pets," I hiss as I pull some gauze and bandages out of my first aid kit, "thankfully none of these cuts and scrapes will need anything more than some stitches and a few bandages."
"Who's Steven?" Mikaela asks curiously.
"He's part of a group of cyborg traitors that work for The Initiative," I reply, "they're a dangerous bunch. Hope and pray that they never find out that we're here."
"But if his pet is here, then surely he already knows about Megan," Mr. Banes remarks.
"All the more reason to leave now while we still can," I sigh, "They'll assume Megan's a lone runaway and come to catch her, which may lead to our cover getting blown."
"How long do we have before they come?" Megan asks worriedly.
"If we truly get lucky they won't come at all," I answer, "But if they do, we don't have much time."
"Is there anything we can do to prepare?" Mr. Banes asks curiously.
"Keep an eye out for kids and animals with red eyes and unnatural hair colors and any kind of suspicious happenings," I reply, "Keep quiet, out-of-the-way and don't get noticed. The last thing you need is their attention."
"We've already drawn too much attention with our botched missions as it is," Megan growls angrily, "we can't afford any more attention, even if we did catch your 'easy target'."
"We could send Barrison to go look," Sasha offers nervously, "that way if our 'easy target' turns out to no be so easy there really isn't much we stand to lose if he's discovered."
"Steven," Megan sighs, "do you have a better idea?"
"Send Barrison," Steven answers, "Tranquility is a few day's drive from the site of our first mission. I wouldn't be surprised if the attack on the loner drives a larger target out into the open while they flee."
"You suspect our hunted runaways are somewhere in there?" Sasha remarks, "Surely they've moved on to one of the permanent enclaves by now."
"The permanent enclaves are far from the runaways," Steven replies, "with most of them in the eastern part of the country. They would have to stop and replenish their spent resources, including money."
"They'd have to take jobs where they could find them," Megan adds, "not all that far from where they fled."
"Precisely," Steven answers.
"We should probably wait a week before we do anything," Sasha remarks, "to give the board some time to cool down."
"We'll do both," Megan announces, "Steven's pet shall keep us informed of developments as they happen and if it picks up anything of importance, we shall send Barrison in to deal with it. That way we stay out of sight and have all our bases covered."
"So how are we going to explain this to your friends?" Mikaela asks curiously, "I mean, what do we say and how are they going to take it?"
"We're going to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth," I reply matter-of-factly, "Opal's no fool and neither is Ira, they can tell pretty well when someone's not telling the whole truth or outright lying. Sure they'll be mad at me for telling you and your father about us but they'll be even madder at all of us if they don't get the whole truth from us all at once."
"And just how pissed will they be about Arctic Moon Megan?" Mr. Banes asks worriedly.
"They'll be edgy about Megan," I answer, "mostly because she's got red eyes and the same parts source as evil Megan. Both girl's mechanical parts come from a mech known to Sector Seven as N.B.E One."
Mikaela shudders and I pretend not to notice it, wondering just how bad that "run-in" with Sector Seven was for her.
"I have no doubt that our nice Megan will be met with pretty open distrust until the others can be assured of her trustworthiness," I continue, "It's unfortunate, but that's just how my guys work."
"It's not a pleasant fact of life," Megan sighed, "but it's understandable. When you're in a life-or-death situation you have to make priorities. I don't have to like it, but I'll deal with it."
"And what about the money?" Mikaela adds.
"They'll wanna know if there's a catch," I reply, "they don't like the idea of owing anyone anything. They'll try to repay you anyway if you say there is no catch, so just give them an easy to complete favor for show. Nothing too hard, just don't leave it to their imaginations to think up a repayment for you guys."
"Just tell them to get Megan the info about her friends and rescue Bethany and we'll call it even," Mr. Banes answers thoughtfully.
"Now you're thinking like a cyborg," I laugh happily.
