Author's Note: I do sincerely apologize to everyone for the wait on this chapter. My muse kind of took leave of me and went with some crackish good times instead. So, thank you to all of you for being patient. I think we have one good sized chapter to go after this and then the epilogue, so thank to everyone who's been reading, reviewing and commenting. I appreciate it muchly!
I wanted to say here that I put the location of Diego Garcia somewhere in central Nevada, so to all the people saying I've got it wrong: I KNOW. I had to do this for both the story's continuity and because I didn't know where the base really was when started this fic. In any case, I figured NEST's location was a minor detail to have to change in the grand scheme of things. Also, I guess this chapter was my attempt at trying to explain why Barricade wasn't in Revenge of the Fallen. I'm also paying homage to one of my other favorite Michael Bay movies, Bad Boys II in this chapter. Hopefully someone can find the nod.
Disclaimer: Характеры в этом рассказе не принадлежат к мне. Было написано для потехи, и никакой профит не делается. Пожалуйста отсутствие тяжб. I'm sure Optimus could tell you what it says. The dude probably speaks every language known to man. Basically, I don't own, so please don't sue.
Chapter 10
Nesbitt Lake, about 70 miles from Diego Garcia
It was an age-old battlefield tactic for a rifleman or a sniper: start by taking out the officers and work downwards in rank. Kill the heart and the brain, kill the beast. Demoralize the enemy. Confuse them. It made for easier hunting. It was Starscream's personal strategy.
It was also an excruciatingly cowardly act.
Optimus gritted his dental plates under his battle mask as his targeting systems locked on to the incoming pain in the ass seeker. Hearing Ironhide's cannons power up to his left, he felt a slight bit of comfort knowing 'Hide was doing the same. Ratchet had, under Prime's orders, non-lethally incapacitated Barricade by disabling his motor servos to keep the Charger from getting any bright ideas.
"Lennox, Epps, Gibbs, McGee, take cover now!" Optimus shouted, waving a large hand backwards. Starscream released a volley of missiles not completely dissimilar to the ones Ironhide fired, though the seeker's set came packed quite a bit more in the lethal punch category.
Gibbs, Lennox and Epps rolled safely away as the three Autobots returned fire. McGee, still shaken from being nearly decapitated by Barricade, was slow to react. Prime had to make a quick decision. Continue firing alongside Ironhide, or protect McGee. Judging the trajectory of one of the incoming missiles and analyzing McGee's exposed position in a split second, Optimus chose the latter. The Autobot leader quickly holstered his gigantic rifle and threw himself sideways in front of the surprised NCIS agent. A millisecond later, one of Starscream's missiles bounced off a rock and exploded directly into Prime's chestplates.
Tim shielded his eyes with his arm, still rolling toward the outcropping of rocks he belatedly started for when he heard Lennox's yell. He turned his head to the left in time to see a blur of silver, red and blue fly in front of him and then white light. Dirt and debris rained down on his head, pelting his body and legs. McGee curled in on himself as much as his flexibility allowed and covered his head with his arms. His head and ears still ringing from shell shock, Tim peered up to see Optimus rolling gracefully to his feet, patting out a small fire on his chest, and pulling his rifle out from behind his back to return fire. Though McGee knew it would absolutely no good, he unholstered his Sig and started shooting fast and hard. It made him feel better to be proactive, even if the bullets would never reach their intended target.
The slide to McGee's gun locked back, signaling that he was empty. "Boss, I'm going to go ahead and add that stupid jet to the reasons of why I hate the Air Force!" McGee dropped his Sig 229's empty magazine to the ground and slammed in the last of three fully loaded mags he carried, his finger hitting the slide release to chamber a round.
"Hey! That ain't cool. What'd we ever do to you?" Epps retorted as he dove for cover next to Gibbs. "And I thought you said you never in the military!"
"I joined when I met Gibbs!" McGee yelled back, echoing something DiNozzo had said a couple of years previous as he took aim at Starscream.
Lennox and Gibbs exchanged looks. "Would you two shut up and start shooting? Talk with your trigger finger!" Gibbs hollered over his shoulder. The aftermath from Starscream's first salvo of gun and missile fire had quieted, dust still swirling over the lake. The Decepticon seeker executed a perfect Immelmann turn, going from level flight to pitching vertical and then back to horizontal. Three sets of optics and four sets of eyes followed the F-22's every move.
Starscream circled ominously overhead, his weapons systems silent for the moment. Ironhide skidded to a halt next to Barricade, both cannons now aimed at the downed Decepticon's spark chamber. The Topkick roughly shoved Stinger into Barricade's face. "What does he want?"
Barricade's expression was one of hatred. "What does who want?"
"You know what I mean. Starscream."
Shrugging, the Charger returned Ironhide's glare. "Do you really think I'd tell you?"
Ironhide growled. "If you want to keep your chest free of holes, you will. Talk, Deceptiscum!"
"I don't have any reason to tell you."
Optimus took a knee near Barricade's position. "Barricade, it would be in your best interest to tell us what you know."
Barricade rolled his optics. "My best interest! When has an Autobot," the word was practically sneered, "ever had my best interest in mind?"
Optimus was quick with his response. "Since this moment. Barricade, as of now you have nothing to fear from us. You have yet to break any laws or treaties, and once Starscream is clear of the area, you are free to go."
"Should have deactivated his voice thingy, too," Gibbs muttered from his position on the outcropping of recently rearranged rocks, courtesy of Starscream's missile.
"Special Agent Gibbs, thank you," Prime admonished, whipping his torso around to face Gibbs. Instead of the firm expression of a commander, Optimus found himself suppressing a grimace as something in his abdominal region stretched and protested.
Ratchet eyed the big leader warily. The medic in him noticed the slight pinch of pain in Prime's optic ridges and lightly staccato movement. Flicking his optics back toward the sky, Ratchet focused on the more immediate concern.
Barricade's gaze shifted between the three Autobots and four humans, his optics blazing to bright red. He barked a short laugh. "You want to know what Starscream wants? He wants me. Offline. As a vacuum cleaner."
"How can you be certain?" Optimus asked.
"Idiotic Autobot. I'd like to know how you got this far as a commander, asking stupid questions like that. Been taking lessons from Megatron, I see." When Prime's gaze didn't waver, Barricade continued his condescension. "Didn't you notice he was shooting at me, or do your optics need as much recalibration as your logic circuits?"
Prime expertly ignored the insult. After listening to Megatron's blather for nine million years, there literally wasn't a name in the universe Optimus hadn't heard or been called. And as his battle computer replayed Starscream's first salvo, Prime had to admit Barricade was right. The missile he blocked wasn't headed directly for McGee. It was headed toward Barricade, and Tim just happened to be in the way.
Barricade saw the recognition flow through Prime's azure optics. Smiling manically, he said, "He's not here for you. I'm in his way of total domination. He's waiting to finish me. And as soon as you leave, that's what he's going to do."
"Can't say I blame him," Ironhide grumbled.
"Ironhide," Prime scolded. "What else? Did he know why you were meeting here today?"
"Don't know. Don't care. Now leave."
Craning his neck back around, Optimus observed the seeker. True, he had not deviated from his holding pattern in the air. The NEST team was completely exposed and couldn't move as fast as a seeker could compensate. Forcing back the grunt of pain, Optimus regained his feet. He didn't want to admit it, but there was a high probability that Starscream's missile found a seam in his armor.
"Ratchet, reactive his servos and weapons."
The medic stopped short. "What? Optimus, you can't be serious."
"I am. Do it."
Lennox and Ironhide exchanged confused glances. "Optimus, what are you doing? He's a Decepticon! He'll kill us the moment he has the chance!" Ironhide implored his leader.
Prime shook his head. "No, he won't. Ratchet, enable his systems. That's an order."
The yellow medic slowly dropped to one knee and let his tools drop from the sheathings in his hands. Beginning to work, Ratchet growled. "All right. But Primus help you if you're wrong because if you are, Barricade better kill you first. If he doesn't, I'll offline you myself!"
"Duly noted, Ratchet."
Finished with his work, the Autobot medic stood back before completing the final step to bring all of Barricade's systems back on line.
"Ironhide, take our human charges away from this immediate area. I will stay to cover Ratchet and we will rendezvous with you at the staging area," Optimus ordered calmly.
"Done. Come on, squishies. Let's go." Folding himself down, Lennox and Epps hopped in Ironhide's cab while Gibbs and McGee hauled themselves into the Topkick's flatbed. The four nodded to the two Autobots as Ironhide spun his tires, fishtailing in the dirt. Once Prime was satisfied the humans were safe, he nodded his head once to Ratchet.
"Here we go." Ratchet cycled his vents and pressed the last line in place. Barricade's systems whirled, fluids and signals reestablishing themselves where there was previously no feeling. Ratchet readied his buzzsaws with a quick flick of his wrists, his tools disappearing into their ports. Optimus waited, his weapons systems inactive.
Instead of the ambush the medic had expected, Barricade regained his feet and gave a simple bob of his chin. He turned his back to both Autobots, slowly transformed, and drove northeast, away from the NEST group. Ratchet retracted his saws and stared incredulously at Optimus. "What just happened?"
"It appears Barricade's fate was written for him long before he landed on this planet." Glancing quickly up toward the heavens where Starscream still circled, Optimus dropped into his alt mode. :Let's go, Ratchet. Ironhide is waiting.:
Ironhide stood nervously on the southwest edge of Nesbitt Lake, his optics scanning the distance for Ratchet and Prime. His comm was open to all channels in case of a distress call, and his audios were set up to high to detect any sounds of fighting. Seeing a cloud of dust billowing in the distance, Ironhide commed his leader.
:Optimus? Barricade didn't try and get fresh with you, did he?:
:No Ironhide. Barricade chose to leave with no resistance. I don't think he will be a problem in the near future.:
The semi and Hummer both pulled up to the staging area and transformed, none of the other beings taking notice of Prime's suddenly morose mood. "Does someone want to tell me what the frag just happened?" Ironhide, in his usual gruff fashion, dispensed with any kind of greeting and went straight to the point.
Ratchet was still dumbfounded. "He just left. Barricade stood up, transformed and simply left. I don't get it."
"Back to base. Autobots, roll out." Optimus transformed and drove slowly around the shores of the lake. As his tires scraped the pavement, Optimus forced himself to not take one final look back in the direction of Barricade's last known position. Starscream had circled down while the Boss Bot was running through his transformation sequence, and had landed to their north. The Autobots drove away, beginning the trek back to the relative safety of Diego Garcia. In the distance, a thunderous explosion of high-powered missiles rocked the calm of the desert.
'Be with Primus, Barricade,' Prime thought softly to himself. A second later, Optimus' scanners detected Starscream delivering the kill shot, silence coating the landscape seconds after.
Diego Garcia, NEST Headquarters
Staring at a computer screen for hours out of her day was not exactly Ziva's idea of fun. But, since Gibbs took McGee as Mitchell's stand in, the Mossad officer had no choice but to suck it up and deal with DiNozzo and Glen. And, because Tony was Tony, he managed to forge an instant bond Glen and Maggie, leaving his less social partner somewhat out of the loop. Glen and Tony had spent the morning alternating between working and quoting movies. But, and she was loath to admit it, Tony, Glen and Maggie were very good at their jobs.
Hearing Tony and Glen start in on the 'Meow' bit from Super Troopers, Ziva set the folder she was working down and braced her hands on the desk in front of her. Taking a deep, calming breath, she tried to keep the train, otherwise known as DiNozzo and Glen, from a painful, fiery derailment. "Gentlemen. Can we get back to the task at hand?"
Sobering, both DiNozzo and Glen shook their heads and tried to put on serious faces. Glen squinted at the screen, refocusing on picking though the mystery shard owner's emails. "Yeah, right Ziva. Sorry."
"What do we know so far?" Ziva stood up to pace as she talked, taking the lead Gibbs normally would.
"That's a good question, Officer David," Gibbs answered from behind her position, one of his desert camo clad legs hanging over Ironhide's tailgate. The Gunny hopped down before the Topkick was fully stopped, earning a glare from Ratchet once the Hummer had fully transformed. Having dropped Epps off at the human quarters, Gibbs, Lennox and McGee began to break down store the gear they had used at Nesbitt Lake.
Tony didn't miss a beat. "Oh, hey Boss."
Ziva took a moment to analyze the physical condition of the special ops team before they all departed. No one sported any broken bones or abnormally large cuts and abrasions, and everyone was upright and functional. Changing the subject, she asked, "How did it go?"
"It went," Ironhide responded in his usual two-word fashion, taking apart his cannons and beginning to give them a thorough cleaning. "Mitchell's contact turned out to be a Decepticon."
"A Decepticon? That was rather unexpected, yes?" Ziva replied.
"Yep. Just about as unexpected as a second Decepticon almost shooting McGee's head off," Gibbs quipped from his position at the table.
Ziva's jaw dropped. "What the hell happened out there, Gibbs?"
"Ratchet's suspicions were correct, Officer David. The man Mitchell was meeting wasn't really a man at all, but a Decepticon infiltrator named Barricade. A second Decepticon, designation Starscream, ambushed us all. I'm still uncertain as to why," Prime said as he stepped back into the Ops area.
"Wait. Back up. What exactly happened to McGee?" DiNozzo asked with a note of anger in his voice. No one but Tony DiNozzo was allowed to threaten the probie and live to tell the tale!
"Just what Optimus said, Tony. Barricade was Mitchell's contact, and the thing tried to kill me! Then this jet showed up, and everyone started shooting. It was crazy," McGee said, blowing out a puff of air.
"And what did my favorite probie do?" Tony asked, pumping his fist in anticipation. He knew McGee was a well-trained federal agent, but he still couldn't pass up the opportunity for a little ribbing when the chance presented itself.
As a nonverbal answer, McGee unholstered his service weapon, cleared it, and tossed the Sig on the table along with the three magazines he managed to empty. "Just emptied all my mags, that's all."
DiNozzo smiled widely and barked a long, loud and satisfied laugh. "McGee, all that time on the range with yours truly finally paid off."
"Don't pat yourself on the back too much, DiNozzo. That's the guy that saved my ass." McGee pointed with one finger toward Optimus, the boss busy analyzing the data collected from the most recent Decepticon encounter.
"Well, how'd he do that?"
Ratchet cut into the NCIS conversation, incredulity glazing his words. "The idiot jumped in front of a missile from Starscream."
Tony scrunched up his face in surprise. "A missile?"
"Yeah. What everyone is forgetting to mention is that Starscream's alt mode is an F-22 Raptor." McGee finally acknowledged.
"A…What?" Tony paled visibly. "Holy shit, McGee. That's…that's. Wow! Looks like you done good this time, McGeek."
Tim sighed. "Tony, I'm right here and I'm fine. Things just got a little hinky, that's all. You'll be back to annoying me in no time, so don't get too touchy feely. It's weird."
"Now that you've heard all the gory details of our afternoon, you two had better have something for me," Gibbs interrupted, running the bore snake through the barrel of the rifle.
"Oh, we've got plenty of that, Special Agent Gibbs." Maggie pulled the pencil out of her hair and grabbed the stack of paper sitting on the nearby desk.
"Maggie and Glen--" DiNozzo paused briefly at the impatient expression tugging at Gibbs' eyes and decided to speed it up. "Ah, blah, blah, geek stuff, blah, blah, we finally managed to figure out who the other shard owner is," Tony chuckled as Maggie put some information up on the screens above.
Looking at the screen, Gibbs squinted to make out the fine print on the pages. "Lieutenant Mark Renner? Who's he?"
Tony laughed. "Boss, I really think you need to invest in those glasses you've been putting off. Lt. Mark Rainer, twenty-nine, graduated from the Academy seven years ago with a degree in aerospace engineering. He was assigned to the Stennis for the last cruise as, get this, the right seater of one of their SH-60 helicopters."
"And after some further digging, Tony discovered that his individual helicopter was one of two used to physically drop Megatron into the deep blue sea," Maggie added. Gibbs narrowed his eyes.
"Do we know where Lt. Rainer is now?" Optimus asked, joining the briefing after releasing Skids and Mudflap from their extended cleaning duties. The Trax and the Beat followed demurely behind their massive leader, both just happy to be done with their punishment.
Glen swiveled around his chair, his voice still slightly timid with Gibbs' imposing stare focused on him. "While you guys were out, we made a few phone calls. His wife said he was on a 'man's retreat' and she didn't sound happy."
"They never are," Gibbs mumbled. As Glen began to ask why, DiNozzo fixed him with a wide-eyed panicked expression and mouthed a frantic 'no' at the computer geek. Glen snapped his mouth closed before it could get him into any big trouble with the Gunny. Gibbs continued, completely unaware of the nonverbal conversation taking place literally behind his back. "Did she say where he went?"
"He's in Vegas actually. Apparently, the Lieutenant has an affinity for poker, and the World Series Main Event is going on right now at Binion's," Maggie said.
"Ziva, DiNozzo, bring him in and see if he has that shard with him." Gibbs started back toward the door, Lennox falling in step with the NCIS special agent.
Optimus tipped his head to the right and clenched his dental plates. "Skids, Mudflap, I would like you to accompany Agent DiNozzo and Officer David. You are to leave your comm lines to myself or Ironhide open at all times, and you will not in any way deviate from the mission I am about to give you. Am I clear?"
"Yeah, Boss Bot. No more engergon disposal cleanin' for us. That shit was shit!" Mudflap exclaimed.
Optimus nodded. That was as good as it gets from those two. "Right. Take our NCIS guests to Las Vegas and help them retrieve Lt. Rainer from the casino. He may prove to have invaluable amounts of information."
Skids and Mudflap both poorly executed military salutes. Gibbs rolled his eyes. "You got it! You can count on us, you know."
"That's what concerns me," Ironhide grumbled from the other side of the room, the two human leaders tipping their heads to the weapons specialist as they passed.
Lennox still wore a slightly befuddled expression on his face, right hand stroking his chin in concentration as he and Gibbs walked. Nesbitt Lake wasn't adding up, and the Captain didn't like the feeling it was garnering. "I don't get it. Why, after all this time and effort, would Barricade just get up and leave? And why didn't Starscream blast us all into little tiny pieces when he had the chance?"
"No clue, but as soon as David and DiNozzo track own Rainer, we'll figure it out," Gibbs replied, eyeing DiNozzo getting into Skids' alt form. Thinking about his last statement, Gibbs added. "How good of an idea is this?"
"Which?" Lennox asked, still deep in thought.
"Sending my two troublemakers off with your two troublemakers."
"They're not my troublemakers, Gibbs. They're Prime's. Big difference." Lennox patted the NCIS agent amicably on the shoulder. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about them. Skids and Mudflap might be a little whacked in the CPU, but they're good soldiers. They'll take care of your people."
"Not what I was worried about. My people can take care of themselves."
Lennox ducked his head in acknowledgement. "Then mayhe it'll be good for them mutually to learn from each other. Besides, Vegas is over two hours from here. I think DiNozzo being in Skids' alt mode for that long is punishment enough for them both."
Gibbs laughed. "Good point."
Passing Optimus on their way out the hanger door, both Lennox and Gibbs caught the slightly pinched expression of Optimus' facial plates and saw a minute wince as he transformed into his Peterbilt mode. Brushing it off as nothing, Lennox grabbed his bag of essentials and slung it over his left shoulder. Gibbs mirrored the motion, and both men jumped into Ironhide's flatbed for a ride over to join Epps at the human quarters of the NEST base. Passing DiNozzo on their way out, Gibbs once again reminded himself that under the playful exterior, Tony was the best investigator with whom he'd ever worked.
DiNozzo strolled out of NEST technology center toward the assembled group on the tarmac. Clearing his throat, Tony waited until all attention was focused on him. "All right, listen up, people. Our fugitive has been on the run for ninety minutes. Average foot speed over uneven ground barring injuries is four miles per hour. That gives us a radius of six miles. What I want from each and every one of you is a hard target search," DiNozzo overacted in grand fashion, Glen standing to join the action. Tony put his arms around the geek's shoulder and the two continued together. "…of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farm house, hen house, out house and dog house in that area. Checkpoints go up at fifteen miles. Your fugitive's name is Lieutenant Mark Rainer. Go get him."
Ziva and Maggie both shrieked in irritation. "Tony, every time we have a fugitive, must you repeat that line?! I swear I have heard it more than I care to remember and I have not even seen the movie from which it originated!"
"Oh, come on Ziva! The Fugitive is a great movie. A masterpiece, really. Tommy Lee Jones, Harrison Ford, who doesn't love it?," Glen said as he went to lean against Mudflap. The brownish red twin shook his frame in irritation, Glen stepping away with his hands up. "And really? You've never seen it?"
Ziva shook her head to the negative.
"Oh, before you leave, you and I are going to watch that movie together!" Glen announced.
DiNozzo pointed to Glen with both hands. "Aha. Aha! See! Someone who appreciates the finer points of movies! My man!" Both men exchanged high fives.
Ziva tipped her head to one side. "It is still infuriating. Besides, in case you failed to notice, we are in the desert! There are no farm houses, hen houses or dog houses," Ziva responded.
"But there are out houses!" Glen happily pointed out.
Mudflap's voice wafted through his speakers. "Hey, man. There are farms out here."
Not to be left out, Skids amended, "Yeah. We went cow tipping right before you guys got here."
"You went--" She paused. "Wait. Do not tell me. That information is more than I need to know."
"Probably wise," Maggie added from near Mudflap's front fender.
Ziva opened the driver's side door to Mudflap's alt mode. "Can we go, please?"
Maggie bit her lip. "Right. Yes, you guys should go. Remember, Glen and I will both be here if you need anything. I'll send you Rainer's hotel information when we can hack into the hotel's--" she stopped, seeing the expression of dismay on Tony's face. "I mean after the hotel calls us with the information."
"That's better. We should be back tonight with the precious cargo. Call us in anything changes," DiNozzo said as he slid into the driver's seat of Skids' green Beat. Maggie and Glen turned and began walking toward their domain. Out of Skids' sunroof, Tony's voice filtered back to their ears. "Oh! Road trip! Hey, have you seen Dumb and Dumber? Oh you have! Okay then. 'Mock, YEAH! Ing, YEAH! Bird, YEAH!"
Glen let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Did he actually feel sorry for Skids? "Boy, that's gonna be a long trip."
"No shit."
Ducking back into his quarters to hit the wash rack, Optimus peeled his armor away carefully and surveyed the damage from Starscream's lucky missile. It wasn't anything serious; as Prime his armor was second to none, but the smattering of damage was just enough to cause him some discomfort. Looking down, Prime could see some melted engine components that would need to be replaced and some wiring that had been fried. Poking around, Optimus found the problem spot. Right below his spark chamber, some of his sensitive wiring had fused to his protoform, pulling uncomfortably every time he moved. Deciding it would have to wait, Prime quickly rinsed off and began reapplying his armor. Not bothering with the lights, Optimus moved through from the wash rack to the living area.
"I knew that missile did more damage to you than that stubborn CPU of yours would let you admit."
Optimus stopped short at the sight of Ironhide sitting calmly at the table in the Boss Bot's personal quarters. Schooling his face from open surprise to sheer annoyance, Prime replied, "Ironhide. What are you doing here? And how did you get in?"
Propping one armor clad leg up on the chair, Ironhide drawled, "Ratchet has a new theory on why the 'Cons want those shards, but he needs your approval to test it. And you need to change your passcode more often, Optimus. It's way too easy to guess." Ironhide finished with a passive shrug of his massive shoulders.
Narrowing his optics, Prime changed his tactics. "I thought I heard you giving a similar lecture to Skids and Muflap just the other day. What was it you said? 'Infiltrate and liberate'?"
Not intimidated by Optimus' stare, Ironhide waved his hand. "That's different. They were talking about your high grade, which I know you have hidden somewhere in here, not about making sure you're okay."
"I'm fine, Ironhide." Bristling, Optimus tried to grab Ironhide's shoulders to forcibly push him out of his personal space only to have the wiring in his abdomen protest at the sudden movement. Hissing though his vents, Prime placed a hand on his grill.
The weapons specialist scoffed, crossing his thick cannon-laden arms over his chest. "Fine, huh? Lemme see."
"We have work to do. It's minor, nothing that can't wait until we've figured out what's going on with Petty Officer Mitchell and NCIS," Optimus snapped.
Ironhide's reply was equally as harsh. "That why you're grimacing when you move too quick? Yeah. That's fine, all right."
"Not now, 'Hide."
Ironhide leaned further back in his chair, lifting the two front legs of the reinforced metal off the floor. "You know I ain't moving until I take a look at what you're hiding under there. And you want to get out, you have to go over me."
"No."
The two bots glared at each other, optics blazing brightly. Ironhide cocked his head to the side, his tone icy. "Why are you being so stubborn, Optimus? Now, let me take a look."
His vents literally steaming, Prime relented. He knew it was a futile battle of wills with Ironhide, and 'Hide was nearly as bad as Ratchet. The only difference being Ratchet would hit Optimus with a large wrench; Ironhide would probably just settle on punching him. Releasing the catches on his chest armor, Optimus removed it, set it aside and waited for the inevitable.
Ironhide poked a couple of blunt fingers into the chest cavity of his commanding officer. Moving past all the blackened bits of caked on dirt and shrapnel, he let out a vehement growl of frustration. "For Primus' sake, Optimus. You have a major wiring bundle and harness fused to your protoform. No wonder it hurts." Leaving no room for argument, Ironhide barked, "Ratchet. Now."
The commander and weapons specialist walked down the corridor to medbay, Ironhide mumbling about 'frustrating, pain in the aft commanders' the entire way there. Upon entry, the two found Ratchet busy at his desk, calculation and theories scribbled on various data pads littering the surface.
Not bothering with preamble, Ratchet went straight to business. "Prime, I have a theory about those shards, but I need your permission to test it."
"Go ahead, Ratchet."
"I can't think of any other reason the Decepticons would want those pieces other than the reanimation of Megatron. It's the only logical explanation," Ratchet said as he tapped a finger on his chin.
Optimus nodded. "I concur. What will your experiment involve?"
The medic pursed his dental plates. "Primus forgive me, I need to use Jazz's spark to see if the shards have any effect on it. I don't want to, but I can't think of any other way."
Prime internalized a scowl. Jazz was with the Matrix, and Optimus felt he had no right to disturb the sanctity of that. But, as the war dragged on, Prime found the grey line that separated ethical from unethical was blurring further each day. Pinching the bridge of his noseplates, Optimus gave in. "You have my permission, Ratchet."
Ironhide shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like disturbing the dead any more than Ratchet, but as the medic had so astutely pointed out, they were fresh out of other, better options. "You'll be as gentle as possible." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Of course, Ironhide. This is not fun for me, but it appears to be necessary. If what our NCIS friends have said is true, we may have a truly powerful weapon on our hands," Ratchet finished, not needing to say on whom that "weapon" could be used.
Prime shifted his optics around. "If you've nothing else, Ratchet. I have work to do."
"No. That's it for now. I'll keep you apprised on my findings," Ratchet answered, not looking up from his work.
Ironhide shifted his weight to his left leg and crossed his arms over his chest again in annoyance. Trust Prime to be stubborn and hard headed about his own health, though by this point he should expect it. 'Typical. Fragger gets to medbay and then doesn't say a word.' As Optimus walked by, Ironhide stuck his hand out and jabbed his commander in a particularly sensitive spot right above his grill.
"'Hide! What was that for?" Optimus hissed, his hydraulics wheezing unhappily. Glaring daggers at his weapons specialist, Prime valiantly resisted the urge to rub the sore spot Ironhide had so rudely hit.
"Just proving a point, Optimus," Ironhide casually said.
At the sound of Prime's pained yelp, Ratchet's head jerked up. Taking in the battle of wills before him, Ratchet snapped, "What's this? What the pit is going on here?"
Ironhide leaned his weight against the wall and crossed his right ankle over the top of his left foot. Jerking his thumb in Optimus' direction, Ironhide quipped sarcastically, "Why don't you ask Mr. Invincible over here. I'm sure he'll tell you exactly what happened."
Ratchet fixed the Autobot leader with the stare used so effectively over the past nine million years, and the only stare that would beget instant compliance from the fiercely self-reliant leader. Pointing, the medic said just two words. "Sit. Now."
Turning, Ironhide smugly made his way out the door, being sure to lock it as he passed. As he secured the door with a code, Ironhide spotted Lennox and Epps making their way down the corridor.
"Have you seen Prime, Ironhide? I have something I need to ask him," Lennox asked.
"He's in there with Ratchet." Pointing up at the red light indicative of the room being otherwise occupied, Ironhide added, "It's going to be a while."
Lennox and Epps both paled, concern in their voices. "Is Optimus okay?"
Ironhide gave a grunt. "Oh, he will be after The Hatchet gets through with him. He might be a little irritated with me for a while though. You boys should pull up a chair. Probably be pretty amusing if you ask me."
A few minutes later, Lennox decided he was truly glad for the Autobot strength locks on the oversized blast doors. Specifically when Ratchet was in one of his moods, the locks kept unsuspecting humans and Autobots out, and angry medics and wary patients in. Ratchet's medbay was probably the most secure and safest place in all of NEST. No expense was spared in its construction and whatever request Ratchet made was immediately granted. It was blastproof, fireproof, and airtight if necessary. It could serve as a bunker in a pinch and housed a separate command area in the office. In short, it was the backup of all backups.
Unfortunately, no one ever thought to make it soundproof.
Lennox and Epps and were both seated in chairs with their feet propped up directly outside medbay, listening to Ratchet's latest rant.
"I swear to Primus I will disassemble you piece by piece and turn you into the most efficient Zamboni humanity has ever seen if you even think of pulling a stunt like that again! Playing catch with Starscream's missiles. NEST is a tactical team! Tactical does not equal what you did. Where was the finesse? The subtlety? In the name of all things holy, what were you thinking, Prime?" Ratchet ranted as he dug more blackened shrapnel out of Optimus' chest.
A million different retorts marched their way through his processor, and though Prime desperately wanted to choose a more colorful one, he settled on, "I apparently was not."
"You're fragging right you weren't! And look where it got you! Yet another trip to my medbay. You must see this as some sort of a sport, you and Ironhide. Do the two of you come out of recharge every day, comm each other and say, 'How are you, Ironhide?' 'Fine.' 'Good. Well, how can we frag up Ratchet's miserable existence today?' Do you have any idea how many times you've been here since we've landed on Earth?" Ratchet's voice pitched higher with each sentence.
Prime raised an optic ridge as the medic waved a soot covered metal object in Optimus' face. What the slag was that? A Mountain Dew can? Finding his voice, he responded. "No. Should I?"
"Five. And we've only been here six months. That's almost once a month, in case you've jarred your CPU hard enough to require recalibration." Ratchet tugged on a bundle of blackened wires in Prime's abdominal area.
"Ouch! Slag it medic, watch it!" Optimus' hand went to cover the still sensitive area under his grill. Expelling hot air through his vents to cool his system, Optimus looked Ratchet in the optic. "I apologize for causing you grief, Ratchet. It is not now nor has it ever been my intent to 'frag up your existence' as you put it. As for your explanation, I saw a situation and I reacted to it."
"It could have gotten you offlined, Optimus! You're a strong mech, but even you can't withstand a direct hit from a missile like that," Ratchet fired back.
When he felt the irritated medic run yet another full system scan, Optimus insisted, "I'm fine, 'Ratch. A bit sore, but fine."
Looking Prime in the optic, Ratchet said, "You need to let me be the judge of that. After all, I am the medic, and you're not exactly the best at being forthcoming about your injuries."
Score one for the medic. Pausing briefly to regain his sense of calm, Prime responded, "I realize that. I just feel that all this fuss is unnecessary."
"Unnecessary?" Ratchet gave a hard scoff as he again adjusted some wiring, this time in Optimus' left thigh, a little harder than needed. Prime winced but said nothing. "Optimus, if it weren't for Ironhide, you would still be picking dirt, metal, burned wires and only Primus knows what else out of your chest plates yourself, so don't lecture me on unnecessary procedures."
Optimus opened his mouth to start and refute his medic, but then thought better of it.
"You and your slagging hero complex will be the end of my CPU. You know I'm right, youngling, so don't even think about arguing with me. You know I am in no mood," Ratchet warned he waved a wrench dangerously close to Optimus' face.
Prime inwardly simmered. "I haven't been a youngling in a few million years, Ratchet. And I'm still Prime. If I want to get up and do my job as I should, I will. I know myself well enough to know when I need service and when I don't," Optimus reminded the medic.
Ratchet raised an optic ridge again in amusement. "And your acquiescence right now has nothing to do with the fact that I have no qualms about chasing you down and tying you up to help you?"
Prime scowled for a second time and glared at his long time friend. Primus, he hated it when Ratchet was right. No other being in the universe could make the almighty Autobot leader, slayer of all things unfriendly, feel like a youngling again with such practiced ease. And if he were really honest, the lecture Optimus was receiving right now was the other deterrent from seeking medical care immediately upon returning to NEST.
Finally beginning to come down off his anger induced high, Ratchet's biting tone and harsh words softened. A haunted look passed the medic's optics, there and gone in a split second. "Prime, you know as well as I that we can't afford to lose you."
Optimus shook his head, still unused to and not wishing for the pedestal his title put him on amongst the Autobot faction. "I am just one mech, Ratchet, no more important than you, Ironhide, Bumblebee or any other Autobot on this base."
"That's where you're wrong, Prime. We need you to lead yes, but we need you to be there at the end of the fight, too. No matter how much you tell yourself that you're not important, it's simply not true!" Ratchet's passion was showing clearly though his words even as he worked on replacing the sensitive wiring bundle and harness Starscream damaged in his attack.
Optimus hung his head in defeat, unable to withstand Ratchet's withering gaze. Prime knew the medic wasn't really angry with him. Rather, he was upset that Optimus was so selfless in his protection of others, but careless in the protection of himself. The young commander had been on the receiving end of The Medic Scorned countless times over the years, and this incident was no exception. The Hummer's passion and his caring, albeit tough, was one of the reasons Prime was still online after the centuries of war with the Decepticons. However, that didn't mean he had to necessarily like being yelled at, though.
Cycling his vents slowly, Prime conceded, "I know, Ratchet. But I can't just do nothing. You know of all mechs it would not be right for me to simply stand there and watch. Tim's life was in danger, and had I not acted, he would likely be dead. It was preventable, and if I had to take the hit, then so be it. I would survive it. He would not."
Though Ratchet was loath to admit it, hearing Optimus concede that he knew he was needed did much to dispel the Hummer's rising anger. His rant losing its steam, Ratchet stopped his work briefly and set down his tools. "And I must thank you for that. As you said, McGee would be dead had you not shielded him from the majority of the blast."
"And that would have been unforgivable," Optimus finished. Though the day's mission had been a success, there were many others in NEST's short history that were not. "You needed to thank me for that, Ratchet? You like him, don't you."
"Who?"
"McGee," Prime responded.
Noncommittal, Ratchet asked, "And if I do?"
"I'm not saying you shouldn't or that you can't. I'm simply amused by it," Optimus said as he stood to test Ratchet's repair work. No pain when he flexed his chest. That was good. "The only other human with whom you've shown a similar level of camaraderie is Mikaela, and even she is distant second to how nice you are to Tim."
"I admit Special Agent McGee reminds me of that little sibling that won't quite go away, but one that I never minded having around. Really, he's a good kid, and he means well. I trust him to do right by us." With one critical optic analyzing Prime's movements, Ratchet continued. "Besides, he reminds me of someone I used to know a long time ago, before this war started. A dockworker named Orion Pax. Know him?"
Optimus let out a laugh as he sat back down on the medical berth for Ratchet to make a couple final adjustments. "Be careful, Ratchet. You're in danger of losing your cynical medic front."
"Yeah, well you can just keep that to yourself, Optimus," the medic grumbled as he began to put away his tools. Turning up the snark again, Ratchet added, "The leader portion notwithstanding Prime, you're still a processor fragged pain in my aft."
"And you wouldn't have it any other way." Prime smiled as he stood to exit. "Oh, and Ratchet?"
"Yes, Prime."
"Thanks."
Next Up: DiNozzo and Ziva drag Rainer back to NEST and the joint group discovers exactly what the Decepticons have been up to.