5 hours until detonation
The two MECH agents walked into the large spacious bathroom. Right in front of them was their target: a teenage boy, with jet black hair and a cast standing with his back to them at the sink.
Large Hand nudged Tattoo and started forward. "You know you can't win, Darby," Large Hand called. "Give up yourself and your bike. Silas want to speak to you."
There was no response save the sound of running water at the sink. Large Hands frowned. The kid was washing his hands…with a cast? Something hard like a knot formed in the brute's stomach. Something was wrong.
When the two were only a few feet away, the teen turned suddenly. His good arm whipped back and forth in a sudden movement. His partner cried out and fell back, his hand over his now bleeding eye.
Large Hands made the mistake of turning to follow his partner's descent before turning back around at the sound of water hitting the floor. Darby slid on the now slick floor and plowed into his legs. Large Hands fell heavily to the floor, disoriented by the sudden shift in position.
Blinking his eyes open and forcing himself to focus, the goon was met with the sight of black object swinging towards his head and the feeling, or lack of, a weight in his jacket. My gun, was his last thought before stars exploded in his head.
Jack Darby casually checked the ammo in his borrowed weapon. There was a single cylindrical object in the chamber. A tranquilizer.
Tattoo had finally recovered from Jack's throw. The knife hadn't punctured anything vital. The blade had only scratched the man's eyelid and the handle thunked into his forehead. Little blood had actually been drawn and the man's panic had contributed to his fall more than anything else.
The man took in the sight of his friend unconscious on the floor incredulously. "Matt?" he managed to get out before something stung him in the neck. Instantly his eyesight began to blur and his limbs went limp. With a feline-like moan, he fell back on the floor and didn't move.
Jack glanced up the small obscure camera on the far wall. It was new and obviously high tech. seizing Large Hand's radio, he pressed the small button on the side. "Hope you enjoyed the show."
"But of course," came the voice that Jack knew only so well. "You're good. A bit rusty, but good for one who's never trained. Good instincts. If the circumstances were different, I would consider training you myself."
"I'm going to kill you," Jack stated, as if it were perfectly normal. "And this time I won't let anything
stand in my way. Not morals, not Optimus."
The only response was a chuckle before the link was cut.
Jack shook his head before turning his attention the suitcase. He knew even before he opened it that it was a fake. The signal had stopped beeping. And when he opened the suitcase, his suspicions were confirmed. The cylinder wasn't working or moving at all. Sighing, Jack stood up and, retrieving his knife, left to return to his partner. He ignored his now aching arm and the after effects of adrenaline that made him shake. The hunt wasn't over.
Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I have finals this week and wanted to get it uploaded before I abandon you guys for another week. I tried to manage the fight scene to the point here it would be possible for a determined sixteen year old to execute against couple of idiots. And for Bulkhead fans, if you were expecting his fight scene, I'm sorry to disappoint. He will come back next chapter.