This is the last chapter before I truly work on Reaper, If i can ask that i get at least 10 reviews it would mean the world to me. They jumpstart my muse unlike anything else. but ya'll know that by now.

I only own Viper...

Sincerely,

-Viper

The warehouse was full as both soldiers and mechs alike prepared the briefing, there had been whispers going around regarding this particular mission, and now that they were finally going to hear what this was about, the men were excited.

As their commanding officer, Lennox took a breath before he faced his soldiers. "We have been tasked to find an operative of the CIA. N.E.S.T. has been given access to the preliminary information regarding this target, and as of now all information is given on a need to know basis."

He took a breath before continuing, the screen above him lighting up, displaying a picture of a tall blonde woman with pretty features, Lennox continued, "This is a retrieval mission, the boys at Langley said she was in deep cover in an underground terrorist group planning a coup, as of now I have been given no other information on the target."

She awoke in chains.

She was in a supposedly dark cell, heavily drugged as she couldn't see straight, with her hands chained to the ceiling above her and her ankles chained to the floor. There was a mask upon her face, but what purpose it served was unknown, all Viper knew was that she had to escape.

The first time he came in, she couldn't do anything. Her muscles were limp as he came forward, brandishing a whip not unlike the one she favored. The deep chuckle resonating from him told her all she needed to know.

"You, my dear Viper, are a hard woman to find." He continued to circle her before he continued, "If this keeps up, I might have to resort to drastic measures, and we both know what that would mean."

He stopped behind her and she felt his rough calloused fingers caress her back and move down her spine, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. He traced her assorted scars and tattoos before he stepped back. She watched as he walked back in front of her and began to unravel the whip, before he snapped it. The supple black leather being set off by the silver metal hooks the lined the whip, sending stars scattering across the walls of her cell.

He started with her front, with a snap and a flash of red before her eyes, before she felt the sensation of her skin being ripped from her body. This was quickly followed by five more lashings before he stopped. She felt her blood running down the planes of her stomach and down her legs, before dripping from her suspended toes onto the floor beneath her.

When she didn't respond he slapped her across the face, jerking her body to the right. She tasted blood gathering behind her lips before she spit, right in his face.

Opening one eye, she viewed the artwork she had created. Watching as her blood cascaded down the face of her captor as his face contorted with rage.

She hung there chained for an undetermined amount of time, but based on the level of bloodlust and hunger she felt it was longer than a week. She could go a long time without sustenance and it seemed her captors knew that, but at this point it was getting ridiculous. There was never a moment where she wasn't left alone, she had to give it to the man, he was creative when it came to torture.

It wasn't until what she estimated of three days later when her captors entered her cell. They said nothing, just unhooked her chains, allowing her to fall to the ground in a heap and lay there. She made no move to get up and it paid off in a sense as her captors grabbed her chains and dragged her out of the cell.

She lost consciousness.

When she came to, she was stripped bare and chained to a throne. Her long hair covering her breasts and pooling around her hips as she pushed herself into a sitting position. The deep ache between her legs told her that some men had had their way with her while she was out, her only consolation was she hadn't been awake.

She knew she needed to get out of here, she tried to tap into her dovah aspect but was strangely unable to. It must have been the drugs doing, as she couldn't contact or feel Greh-Zahmahzen within the recesses of her mind. Despite the situation she found herself in, she was strangely calm, this was far from the worst situation she had ever been in, that was reserved for what went down in Florida.

Apparently, there were still posters out there demanding her arrest and to call the police if seen.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she took in her surroundings.

The stone floor was freezing against her bare body, braziers burned at increments of ten feet along the walls, the throne she was chained was stone and had the sigil of a wolf burned into the back of the throne proper. While she did not recognize the crest itself, she did recognize this particular throne room.

It belonged to the Magister of the California Rings.

It was about an hour later when he walked in holding something behind his back. Locking eyes with her he smiled and spoke like one would to a dog, "Hello my Pet. It has been awhile has it not?" The lust in his eyes was overshadowed only by the pure triumph that sparkled in his eyes. He walked up to the throne and brought his right hand from behind him.

In his hand was a black and red version of the Leia slave bikini. He reached forward and yanked the chain around her neck, causing her to fall hard and prostrate, on her back, on the floor in front of him. Reaching down he caressed the valley of her breasts before tracing his hand back up and took a hold of her neck.

Constricting his hand on her neck, he pulled her up slightly, and reached behind her to fasten the black steel and ruby encrusted bikini top to her, before repeating the process with the bottoms, but not before caressing the expanse of her legs.

Despite all the power she had, there was no way she could fight him.

It was sometime later when a henchman was sent to retrieve her. Her skin around her wrists were rubbed raw from her attempts to loosen them, all awhile a song echoed through her mind.

The raging of the piano echoed through her skull as she remembered her hands playing the octaves as her Magister ordered her to. The echoing sound of the Bourne Vivaldi coming to life at her nine year old hands. Another child of similar age was next to her with a cello, tear tracks could easily be seen on the boy's face.

The brand that adorned his neck was still fairly fresh, no more than a weeks at most, a month at least. As her Magister ordered them to play again, she stroked the ivories before her into life. The boy was a decent cellist, but she knew she could do better. As her Magister had ordered her to learn all she could when it came to the musical aspects of this life.

It had saved her Magisters life.

She shook herself out of the memory, forcing herself to stand despite the quaking of her knees. As her new apparent handler unlocked the chains from the throne, and wrapped them around his hands, she inspected him.

He stood at an imposing six foot three. Black oily hair glistened in the light of the braziers, tattoos spanned his arms as they were visible in his white tee-shirt. The regular Levi jeans hugged his hips in a way she could appreciate, but that was for a later time as she forced herself to walk with him. Standing at her meager five feet, she had to take two steps for every one of his.

There was a reason why she was always clad in heels.

They exited the chamber, and she was led down a maze of hallways. One common denominator for all Rings were the maze of hallways that always seemed to accompany them. Shaking her head and smirking to herself at the sudden revelation, she locked it in the back of her mind as she was led into what was obviously His personal chambers.

Her handler wasted no time in chaining her to the marvelous Yamaha grand which decorated the corner of the demure sitting room, and once she was chained, then did he leer at her. Muddy brown eyes and yellow teeth greeted her before his attention was diverted from her by an unwelcome voice.

"Hello again my Pet." As he walked in, Viper diverted her gaze to the floor, she had no want to incur His wrath tonight, nor ever.

His smile was something fierce as he walked up to her, a perfectly manicured hand was placed upon her right shoulder, and caressed her arm once before he continued, "You remember how we used to play, don't you my Pet." She nodded once in response.

He slapped her across the face, "THEN PLAY!" he roared at her.

She wasted no time in lifting the cover of the ivories and placing her hands upon them. Despite having not played for years, her hands still remember the complex melody of her Masters preferred song. Careful to not miss a note, Viper carefully lost herself into the exotic melody of the Asturias.

It was an unknown time later that she awoke.

After she had played for Him, he had brought her down for him to play with. She, surrounded by several other chained women were then forced to endure what no woman should ever have to. Their screams meant nothing to her as they were used as a demonstration. She hung there and watched, like all the other voyeurs would, as each woman was raped in a different way.

She had raised her head back and breathed in the smell of blood as he raped them, killed them, and had their bodies hauled off to who knows where, before he turned to her.

It had been a while since she had had a good lay, and like all the past times, he didn't disappoint. There were very few people whom she could get naughty with, and it just so happened that he was one of them.

Shaking her head and mentally clearing the memories of the night before, Viper raised her head, ran a hand through her wild and unbound hair, and took in her surroundings. It was unsurprising that she now lay in His bed. She could feel every intake of breath as he lay behind her, keeping her ensconced within his corded arms.

Bringing her left hand up, she gently caressed the scarred had that lay upon her waist, feeling him move slightly, his length twitching slightly against her thigh. Carefully, she began to extract herself from his arms, through careful maneuvering, she managed it within a few minutes.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, it read it was now ten thirty on April fifteenth.

She had been a quote unquote captive for nearly two weeks.

She would readily admit that he was the absolute king of foreplay.

Standing up straight and stretching her sore and abused muscles, she looked down at him as he slept. His golden scarred skin gave him an ethereal visage in the low light of the bed chamber. Scars and tattoos littered his body in much the same way it did hers. It was a common likeness that they shared.

Walking to his side of the bed, she leaned over him and whispered, "Hello Michael." An absolutely devious smirk curled upon her lips as an idea crossed her mind. Reaching over and caressing his face once, she left the bedchamber, uncaring of her nakedness, and crossed into the sitting room.

Taking in the span of the room, she noted the lights, the several bottles of wine on the kitchen counter, which included two merlots and a chardonnay.

Making her way to where the assorted instruments lay, she picked up the elegant black violin and matching bow, before walking back into the bed chamber. Fitting the violin to her neck, she tested the dexterity of her fingers on the strings, before beginning to play. As Lindsey Sterling's River Flows in You began to sound, Viper swung her hips to the beat.

She knew full well that Michael was awake, and had been for a while. It was why she was unsurprised to see him leveraging himself up in the bed to watch her play and dance to the music she was playing. Hips still swaying to the melody, she walked up to him and with her foot, gently pressed him back down into the bed once more, before straddling him.

As she grinded against him, she never once stopped playing, enjoying the power she now held over him. Two of his favorite pleasures in life: Women and music. And here she was being very generous, if she were to say so herself, and was giving him both, but he was going to have to work for the first one.

She played three more songs before she was finished and leapt off of him. She heard the erotic growl that left him as she exited the bedchamber and entered the adjoining bathroom.

The room was exactly like hers in the New York Ring. The countertops being a beautiful white marble, with matching flooring. She placed the violin on the counter top before turning on the shower. As always, she waited for the water to heat to scalding temperatures before entering the shower.

Releasing a guttural groan as the hot water cascaded down her sore body, she reached for the bottle of shampoo that rested on the shelf before lathering her hair. The feel of her nails scratching her scalp felt amazing as she rinsed the soap out, this was repeated with the conditioner. Grabbing the body wash next, she lathered her body in a thick casing of white foam, and proceeded to make sure she was very clean before rinsing off and exiting the shower.

Hot steam greeted her as she opened the door and exited the shower, walking to the counter, she reached underneath it and grabbed two towels. Wrapping the first around her body, and the second one binding her hair.

Moving onto the second set of cabinets which rested underneath the counter, she grabbed her makeup and nail polish and set it upon the counter before exiting the bathroom.

Once again, she was not surprised to see that Michael had left the bedchamber, and if the smell of bacon coming from the sitting room was anything to go by, he was cooking breakfast. She walked to the dresser which was placed adjacent to the bed, and pulled out a pair of black leather jeans, and a fitted leather tank top.

Slipping both on, she left the bed chamber.

He greeted her with a smile, which she returned as she walked up to him. Leaping up into the counters, she grabbed him with her legs, and trapped him against her, before she brought him into a kiss. Breaking the kiss she whispered, "Where are the eyes?" He nibbled her ear before answering, "Piano, fireplace, and couch." Kissing him once more on the cheek, she pushed herself off the counter and walked to the piano first, as it was the closest.

Staring at the piano for a moment, Viper moved and propped it up as it was supposed to be and spied the small device hidden within the strings of the instrument. Grabbing said device, she crushed it in her hand before moving on to the other two.

The Emperor was not as devious as he used to be.

Once she was assured the bugs were cleared, she turned to Michael. "Can I have the antidote now, please?" she added a bit of whine to that last part, assured in the knowledge that he knew her true age. Chuckling he nodded, "Of Course, V." He tossed her a syringe filled with an orange solution, and she wasted no time in pushing the needle into her neck and pressing the plunger.

The familiar electricity filled her veins before she was greeted by Greh-Zeymahzen. Drem Yol Lok Unhazaalvithjud

Chuckling Viper spoke aloud Drem yol Lok Greh-Zehmahzen Bo Paaz

The hissing voice of her dovah hissed using her voice, Zu'u Pruzah

Michael, used to the conversations the two of them had, greeted Greh-Zehmahzen in somewhat halted Dov, "Bo Paaz, Greh-Zehmahzen?"

Zu'u Pruzah Amdoqo The raspy voice of Greh-Zehmahzen hissed in greeting to Michael. Said man chuckled at the name which was given and asked Viper, "Care to explain what my new name means?" It took her a second to wrestle control back from Greh-Zehmahzen, a ten more before she could reply, "It mean Lion of Light." They both started laughing at the implications of the given name. She could feel as Greh-Zehmahzen settled into the recesses of her mind, to relax and await until she would be needed once more.

Once Michael had finished making breakfast, they set the table and sat down. As they ate, Viper took in the room.

It was the same as the last time she had been here. The floors were a glossy dark oak, with matching furniture. The executive style table and chairs matched the wood floors and the entertainment center. On the left side of the room, where she, in the New York Ring, had her Jacuzzi, Michael had the piano and other assorted instruments. A black leather couch was placed before the entertainment center, and placed above them was a crystal chandelier.

Taking a bite of the bacon and eggs before her, Viper reveled in the taste of them before turning to her breakfast buddy. "You know why I am here Michael. I am assured that Gabriel has contacted you about the Chicago Ring?"

He nodded and swallowed before answering, a wicked grin playing on his lips, "Yes, I heard how you carved and strung up the previous Magister, leaving him mentally shattered and in the tender care of the authorities." Sarcasm was deeply laced in his tone, "you know they still have no clue who did it?"

Releasing a cackle, she replied, "And they never will." Standing up from the table, Viper walked back into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of merlot she had seen as she entered the room earlier. She grabbed two wine glasses and walked back to the table, Michael smirked when he saw her. ."You couldn't resist could you V?"

"Hey!" she replied, "Its five o'clock somewhere." Before releasing her claws and popping the cork out of the bottle.

Lifting said bottle, she breathed in the smell of the wine, before pouring them each a glass.

Handing Michael his glass, she took a sip of the wine she held in her hand before settling back down in her chair. "I have allied the entirety of the eastern coast, and with my taking of the Chicago Pit, it enables me to start working on the Western Rings." Cocking her head at him she asked, "Do I have your support?" She looked him dead in the eye and he took a moment before responding,

"Yes."

Planning.
It seemed to him that humans do an awful lot of planning.

They made plans when they went to the stores that speckled the world, they made plans when they wanted to meet others of their kind, and they made plans when they were to go to war.

All he wished was for them to take a moment and stop planning. But as the old saying goes, Rome was not built in a day. And apparently neither was N.E.S.T.

The rest of the Autobots were busy doing menial tasks to assist the humans, pit even his twin was helping them, as he was apparently good friends with a few of the fleshies, and they in turn were with him.

He hadn't left their shared berth room since his last binge, and now here he was staring at the results of said binge.

Scattered about the room were paintings, some large, some small, all extremely detailed. His optics roamed across each and every one of them, until they came to rest upon his favorite.

If he remembered correctly, it was the second to last one he had finished before his systems pulled him into a forced recharge.

It was a medium sized painting, with the Dragon featured in the center of it, wings flared in the sky as she observed the battlefield before her. The scattered bodies of mechs and humans lay about, only a few still alive. As he took in the painting, he noticed the little details he had not seen before, a human hand laying palm up, as if giving an offering. The reverent optics of the few still online mechs as they gazed upon the beast.

The black aura that encased the beast herself.

The terrain was that of a human city that he had not yet seen, nor been to. It was strange to him, for he had painted a landscape that he had not seen before with his own optics, he did not recognize those towering skyscrapers, some broken, smoking, and collapsing. The way the red sun shone down upon those whom were fighting.

Finally he drug his optics to look upon the beast herself.

He had captured her ebony scales, as they glistened in the light of the red sun. Red eyes bore down upon those which she had conquered, her venomous maw open and releasing a torrent of red and green flames upon those few survivors.

Those who bore no sigil.

Shaking his helm to clear his processor, he picked up that particular painting and put it in his subspace. Stretching his joints and struts, he left his berth room and entered the maze of hallways called N.E.S.T.

The assorted humans were bustling about. The mechanics were working on their machines, the new recruits were doing drills on the tarmac in front of the training building. He spotted Ironhide and his human apparently having an in depth conversation about something he didn't care about.

In other words it was just any other day here at N.E.S.T.

In one fluid movement he transformed into his Lamborghini alt mode and revved his engine before peeling out of the military base and onto the highway.

Earth was a disgusting planet, he concluded. Everything about it was dirty, wet, and absolutely off putting. The creatures that lived on this planet were even more so.

No matter where he went, he was surrounded. It was an assault on all sides with nowhere to escape.

He felt the tarmac under his wheels as he sped forward, pushing himself faster and faster as he roared down the road. This was a feeling unlike any he'd ever felt before, the wind as his gold and back form, the resounding echo that could be heard for miles around.

Could this be what it was like to be free?

After that pleasant conversation, Viper shrugged on a long black trench coat and walked out of the San Francisco warehouse district. The sun was setting and she had things to do and people to see and kill.

…..LOADING DIRECTIVE…..

.….TARGET SIGHTED…..

…..PROCEED…..

BANG!

"Control target eliminated"

"Roger asset, proceed to exit alpha one niner"

"Roger"

"Target successfully eliminated, asset is proceeding to exit and awaits next orders, sir."

"Send the asset to Budapest next, there is a problem that needs to be taken care of."

"Yes, sir."

…..PROCEED TO HEATHROW AIRPORT….

…..TARGET IS JARED HEART…..

…..DIRECTIVE H-K….

…..PROCEED….

"There is little known about this operative, she is the best of the best, that much is known. She has immunity in England, America, Spain, and most surprisingly Japan and China. All operations given to her were black booked and will never see daylight again."

William Lennox took a breath before finishing the briefing, "The last sighting was in Athens, Greece, she was apparently spotted at the party of one of the city's officials. If there is one point she was trying to make, it was that she was done hiding. All your commanding officers know their orders, Dismissed."

He watched as the soldiers broke formation and left the command center.

The bass was vibrating the floors as her hips ground against the body behind her, as the trap city remix boomed from the sub woofers. The gyration of hips and bodies only sped up as the build broke in a crescendo of electronic tones.

As always, she had a reason for being in this crowd tonight, and as always she was dressed to the nines. Her royal red cocktail dress stopped at mid-thigh and just barely covered her ample breasts. The black dragon embroidery which adorned the dress correlated with the spine of Alduin which curved down her back. All her tattoos were exposed to the chilling air of the club, but to anyone looking she was just another clubber. This was cemented by the eight inch black gladiator platforms she wore, with silver bangles and hoop earrings, with her viper ring on her index finger gleaming as the lights caught it just right.

She loved her job.

A newcomer caught her eye as the song changed, he gracefully slid through the crowd like a snake through the grass and came up behind her. She felt his hands gently grip her hips as the bass dropped. She wasted no time, moving with the faceless man behind her and they stayed like that for several songs until they moved to the bar.

"Disaronno with tart cherry juice and cinnamon on rocks." She told the bartender, while her companion just ordered a whiskey.

"Same as ever I see, however plain you might be it is good to see you Jason." She smiled at him and he nodded to her.

"And your tastes are as complex as ever, but that is to be expected from one such as you." He grimaced slightly at the end.

Viper, however was not offended in the least, "You would be worried if I was not myself, right Jay?" her face bore a look of innocence that belied the dark tone of her voice.

"Of course Madame."

She shifted in her seat and fit herself into the curve of his side as she traced a sharpened nail down his muscular chest. "Now there you go, getting all formal on me. If it weren't for the fact that we are in an openly public setting, I just might have punished you." She looked him in the eye and allowed her pupils to contract into their natural draconic slits.

Their drinks arrived before she could continue her ministrations, but from the lust she could smell emanating from him, it would not be long before she got her way.

Taking her drink in her hand, she took a sip, savoring the burn of the liquor before facing her companion once more. "I have some old contacts of mine whom I have recently contacted and I plan to make my debut soon, I trust all is well on your end?"

"Hail Madame Viper." Was the whispered response.

"Atta boy."