Confidence Game
Chapter 25: Risky Venture
By: Mooncrossed
Hi, everyone! Hope you had an enjoyable week. A big thank you goes out to Queenofthebloodmoon for her review (ah, yes, Swindle Land. Hopefully, Cass won't be re-visiting that vacation spot anytime soon.), and to writergurl616, (Wow! Talk about insightful! Now I'm blushing. Well, I won't give anything away, so you'll just have to wait and see.) I don't own Transformers, Mitsubishi, or Disneyland.
On a random street in Detroit…
Cassidy was currently experiencing a problem. Things had started out innocently enough when she had asked for her survival pack, using the pretense that her hair needed to be brushed. Really, what she wanted to do was see what kind of state the duffle-bag was in after that drop it had experienced off of the worlds tallest trash-heap. When she saw it again, though, it was surprisingly okay. Oh, sure, there were a few rips here and there, and one massive hole out of the side that had some evidence of teeth marks, but most of the pockets were still intact. Opening up the center pouch, she began rummaging only to jump in surprise when her hand landed on something sharp. Had she just gotten bit? Rover, (it had taken her a whole twenty minutes to pry the little alien out of her hip pocket) tumbled closer and peered inside as well. Taking off one sneaker and holding it up high, ready to clobber whatever she found, Cass poked experimentally only to see a flash of silver. 'Wait a minute,' she realized with a start. 'I've brought that alien knife back with me? Now that's something I can use!'
"What are you two doing?" Swindle paused in changing radio stations to give the femme a look at her started jump. Slightly more amused by her obvious guilty expression, he continued, "Okay, now I'm really curious. Did a Tiktri Forest Worm decide to hibernate in your primitive little cloth bag?"
"Huh? Oh, um…Nah. I think one of those giant bat creatures might have dug into my stuff, that's all," Cassidy fibbed, adopting an expression of disgust. Noticing a seatbelt edging toward the opening, the teenager snatched her duffle-bag away. "But it didn't do anything really nasty, so if you don't mind, I have stuff I need to do!"
"Uh, huh," he dryly replied, not having bought a word. "I know a set-up when I see it. Why don't you just let me take a look?" The resulting struggle took place on State Street and swerved across three lanes of traffic, filled with exclamations and insults on both sides. What resulted was most of the squishies self proclaimed 'survival pack' getting strewn around the car, and nearly seven fatal accidents. At last the Decepticon huffed, fed up with the entire ordeal, and ordered her to clean up the mess.
Making a show of grumbling about pushy robots, Cassidy did as ordered, though inside she was gleeful. It had taken some work, but she had successfully hidden the alien knife! She made sure to pile as much clothing, on top of it as possible before beginning to gather the other things. 'Let's see… three tubes of lip-balm, check; one tube of skin softener, check… Lipstick, yep, one tube right here.' By craning underneath the front passenger seat, she was able to retrieve that one. There was also a workout towel smelling strongly of mildew. Wrinkling her nose, she draped it over the top of the pile to dry. ' Now, is anything missing?' That's when she noticed that all important hairbrush, tucked underneath the brake peddle of the car. Not thinking anything of it, she reached down to pick it up only to experience her second problem of the day. Her head was suddenly locked in place! Carefully reaching up and feeling around revealed that a lock of her hair had gotten caught on the turn signal lever. "Ow…"
Swindle knew she was doing something down there, but he was so honestly sick with her antics that he'd decided to ignore it. That was, until he'd begun to turn the corner. What felt like thousands of monofilament wires abruptly cut into his gears with painful suddenness. "Ye-youch!" Swerving wildly, he almost put a pedestrian in an early grave. Though, he discovered, turning that direction hurt worse, so he spun the other way accidentally taking out a mailbox. Now the horrible cutting sensation was in his steering wheel joints! He couldn't turn! Cutting off power to his external controls, he skidded to a stop halfway on the curb, his fuel pump going a mile a minute. Then he focused his visual sensors on his interior only to get an up close view of what looked like thousands of strands of blackened gold wire. "What in the known universe…?"
Slowly in the midst of attempting to save one horribly mangled lock of curly brown hair, Cassidy jerked at the sudden static electric jolt of fifteen sensory scans at once. "Youch! Would yah quit doing that? Stupid car!" With tears stinging her eyes, she glared toward the radio that was just out of her visual range.
Stunned speechless, Swindle couldn't begin to reply. He was too busy looking at a sight map of his steering column and surrounding controls, and the thousands of organic keratin follicles twisted, twined, and knotted into their joints. "How….?" Then he shook himself from bumper to bumper. "You know what? Never mind! The odds of something like this happening by accident are one in three-trillion! Therefore, you did it on purpose!" Fuming, he set to work examining the affected circuit boards, issuing some potent Cybertronian curses while he was at it.
"It did happen by accident, yah crazy robot," Cassidy groused back. With painstaking slowness, she unwounded a section of her mane. After three rotations, and some careful detangling, one huge knot came free. 'At least I have my hairbrush handy,' she mused, biting her lip in agony. 'I mean, the right tool for the job, is at my fingertips and…' She paused in her thoughts as a smell reached her nose, one of burning hair. "Swindle! Something's on fire!"
"I already took care of it, you little nuisance," the huckster groused as he shut down his internal coolant spray nozzle. Her hair, or the section that was left of it within his steering mechanisms, was now a charred and coated mixture of fire retardant and cooling plastic. She had actually managed to cause some damage to him with this little stunt. Scowling at this ugly mess, Swindle considered it from a clinical standpoint before deciding to take things to a more proactive level. Accessing his programming, he set to work on doing a brief re-write on one very specific section of his transformation sequence.
"Aack," Cass screeched out loud as the steering wheel abruptly jerked. "Stop moving, yah bastard! You're making it worse!" She was certain she almost had the worst of this rat's nest loose. If only the freaking car would hold still! Wincing, she endured the sensation of another half dozen strands coming out by the roots. "Of all the things to happen to me," she continued to complain, "This has to be the most horrible, nastiest… Aaah!" There was a purple tentacle inches away from her face! Bug eyed, she stared as it drift toward her hair, before she tried to valiantly bat it away. Pausing, a new realization came to her, 'That almost felt like…metal?'
Wide eyed, she stared at the odd featureless, eel-like creature hovering in front of her. To her consternation, a seatbelt drifted down into view. It bowed and wove for a moment with the long metal alien snake before it reared up next to her face with an almost curious air. Her mouth dropped open as metal parts flipped and twisted, bent and unfolded, until what hovered there wasn't a seatbelt, it was another purple metallic tentacle! 'Those things have been touching me? Gross!'
More were arriving, changing form as they went, and they all had one focus: her hair. They poked, they prodded. Some of them split down the middle to reveal an array of machine implements including an electric drill, a grinding belt, and a spinning saw blade. To Cassidy's relief, they all seemed to decide those weren't good options in this situation. "O-okay guys," she placated as best she could, a nervous smile flashing across her face. "I appreciate the help, but really, I can handle it." Suddenly, every stray belt and bendable length of metal triple wrapped her arms. Shouting in alarm, she watched as two of the remaining robotic serpents abruptly twined together into one big tentacle about the same thickness as an adult boa-constrictor. Then the tip delicately wrapped around a lock of hair and performed an experimental tug. "Woah! Wait a minute! Bad idea! That's a very bad…"
The resulting scream was worthy of countless horror films. It also freed his systems of one very annoying problem. In the process of using a specialized nanite program to clean the worst of the organic residue from his internals, Swindle paused to consider the fleshling in his back seat. Cassidy sat, a scowl marring her features and a bald patch on her head. What remained of her blackened yellow keratin follicles drifted down around her face in an uneven fringe. She was also blessedly silent.
Venting a sigh over her ludicrous defiance, he absently commented, "I don't see what you're so upset about. If you didn't wish to lose any of your head-growth, then you shouldn't have used it in your latest scheme." Rolling her eyes, the Human said nothing. "Alright, that's it," Swindle declared as he abruptly applied his brakes. "You hate working with me that much? Just take off! I'll probably get the job done a lot faster without you slowing me down!" Flinging his door open wide, he waited… and waited some more…
Sitting frozen in place, Cassidy stared at the proffered exit like it was an elaborate illusion. When it didn't slam shut, or turn into a clawed hand, or do much of anything really, the brunet cleared her throat. Aiming a look that was filled with more than a little distrust, she questioned, "You're serious? After everything that's happened, you'll let me go just like that?" She jumped when her seatbelt unbuckled itself and slid out of sight.
"Just like that," the Decepticon agreed. "There's your precious freedom!" The silent addition to that sentence rang loud and clear to both of them: And I hope you choke on it you ungrateful brat! Swindle, despite being in his car-form, was pouting. He didn't think he was that hard to live with… but then again, he did tend to work alone. It was just so much fun to have a dim-witted sales-assistant to banter with, especially during the dull moments. In other words, on a slightly deeper level of his oh-so-shallow spark, he was going to miss her.
Not moving, the seventeen year old gave the car's radio a suspicious look. Asking a question that was more of an accusation, she said, "You're going to kill me, aren't yah?"
"Who, me? Never!" The organic raised one prim eyebrow disbelievingly, so he sheepishly amended, "Well… maybe I've been tempted once or twice. Your wakeup calls leave a lot to be desired, kid… and your dining habits could use a little work… and I still haven't told you about the re-imbursement plan I'm setting up for all the merchandise you destroyed…" He trailed off, considering that particular idea. He'd come up with it back on Fifth Street, but it still needed a little fine tuning, like the fact that this alien species had such short life-spans. Perhaps if it was generational, he mused speculatively, and if I dropped by once a century or so to pick up the payments… Noticing her less than amused expression, he quickly got back on track. "But the point is, I have no desire to offline you right now!"
Sarcasm flavoring every word, Cassidy snarked, "Well kudos to you for being honest." Outwardly, she was a picture of confidence, while on the inside, she was a quivering wreck. She didn't like the odds being presented to her in this little game. Slowly shaking her head, she gazed out the open door. "I know exactly what you're planning, you'll run me down the instant I step outside."
"Ew," Swindle exclaimed in disgust. "And get red goo smeared all over my frame? Hate to break it to you, kid, but my force-field's still down and I hate marring my body-armor."
Continuing to not trust him one iota, she changed her prediction, "Then you're planning on shooting me."
"Tempting as that is… No," the 'Con countered. If a car could roll it's eyes, he'd be doing it right then. "Something like that would waste too much energy, even if it did have the benefit of disintegrating your scrawny little carbon based body."
"Or you're gonna transform into a robot and squeeze me to death," she accused next. "I know you've thought about it, so don't try to deny it!"
His sigh ruffled the femmes ragged mane of green streaked hair. "While I've come close to attempting it, the answer's still no. Any other suggestions for your game of 'offline-the-fleshy?' And before you suggest it, no, I'm not going to spank you to death!"
Defensively, she protested, "I know yah didn't mean to say that the first time I heard yah. Can yah blame me for being nervous about your suddenly benevolent behavior? For all I know, you're going to transform while I'm still in here, or strangle me with a belt, or something else horrible."
"Well, aren't you morbid?" Despite himself, Swindle was feeling slightly amused. She really had put a lot of thought into this, all signs that she considered him a genuine threat. Here I was thinking that I'd failed at intimidating her, he thought ironically. I guess all that screeching and bouncing around wasn't entirely due to glitches, after all.
"Giant sized stomping, then," she queried, raising her eyebrows at his radio.
"And I already promised I wouldn't do that," he protested, wheezing out a laugh. "Primus, the lack of trust these days…"
"Nothing says yah aren't planning on asking one of your buddies to do the deed for yah," she declared.
"Assassins aren't cheap, Sweetheart," he grinned. "Even low level thugs demand a hefty amount, and you aren't worth that kind of cash. So you see, I'm not going to offline you." Using his nearest sensor coils as graciously as a wealthy tower-mech, he escorted the femme toward the open door only to meet resistance. "Oh, come on! I've already agreed not to end you're pathetically short organic life! What more could you want?" Her next question was as puzzling as it was suspicious.
"If I leave, what will happen to the pocket-watch?" Cassidy tensed at the barely audible buzz of electrical systems. His reply, when it came, was far from reassuring.
"Sell it, of course," Swindle drawled as if he was rolling his optics.
"To what's his name? Mega-something?" She blinked distractedly, her thoughts going a million different directions at once. On one hand, freedom loomed with all the welcoming appeal of a free trip to Disneyland. The only worry she had was the possibility of Swindle slaughtering her the instant she exited. Admittedly, it was a very real concern… Shaking herself, she focused on other matters, like the pocket-watch. That mysterious little trinket had been the focal point of a lot of problems in her life. If the huckster wanted it this badly, it had to be pretty powerful, and if this other guy was willing to send one of his giant sized lackeys to finish him off? Swallowing hard, she inquired, "What will he do with it, once he has it?"
"None of my business to know, kid," the Decepticon snapped back. He hated that line of thinking. As far as he was concerned, he didn't have to know, and really, he didn't care. So what if an alien race was conquered and enslaved? Who cared if an entire planetary system was sucked into an artificial black hole? All he wanted was the credits. Jogging his seat forward, he hinted, "Don't you have someplace to go? I mean, hah, hah, it's not like you suddenly want to stay." Her return glare was as stubborn as it was defiant. It was also all too easy to read. "You WANT to stay?"
"So what if I do?" This was stated with her hands on her hips and an attitude that was nine-tenths bravado. Inside, she was a nervous wreck. 'Am I insane? How in the world can I hope to prevent a bunch of giant, gun toting alien robots from doing whatever they want? I'll sooner end up as a smear on the sidewalk!' Then she slumped. 'And yet… if I can somehow twist the situation? Keep these guys from getting their greedy claws all over it?' Hating the direction her thoughts were going, Cass scowled. She was no hero, and cursed the stupid Mitsubishi for putting her in this position to begin with!
"Unbelievable," Swindle exclaimed after taking a quick scan. "You're serious?" The huckster studied her with intense suspicion. He thought he had her completely figured out, had gotten so thoroughly sick of her complaining, sabotage and nearly constant escape attempts that he had finally just given in. She wants out? Fine, he silently declared. Good riddance, don't let the driver's side door hit you on the way out! Yet now, here he sat, with the nearest door flung wide open, and that same fleshling refused to budge. Are all humans this fragging contrary? Well, I'm not standing for it, he mused obstinately. Venting heated air, he stated two succinct words, "Get. Out."
"Nope," she tossed back, lounging back against the seat cushions like she owned them. The air became even hotter, yet Cassidy waited. Chair springs tensed to granite like properties, and she narrowed her eyes. Light slowly fled behind heavily tinted windows and radio lights became steadily brighter. She held her breath, anticipating the worst. So when fifty-six seatbelts exploded out of the upholstery all around her to escort her to the exit, there was no surprise. By now she was an old pro at such tactics and reacted accordingly… with all ten fingernails.
"YOW! Fragging femme! Pit spawned, offspring of a turbo-rat…" Thankfully, the rest of the Decepticon's curses descended into a gibberish of alien languages as he tackled the impossible task of removing one incredibly stubborn organic from his slowly shredding upholstery. The yipping Grrbreazzzzrg wasn't helping matters. Apparently, Rover thought it was a fun new game to play, one involving ripping up the seat cushions and hopping around joyfully. "Argh! Let go!"
Clinging for dear life to the bench seat, Cassidy did her best to peer at the lit front console with one eye. The other one currently had a seatbelt blocking it. "Grrr, you first, yah maniac!" One of the belts on her upper torso moved and she shrieked in outrage before slamming a sneaker as hard as she could into the nearest floor vent.
Leaping into the air at the resulting pain, Swindle yowled his discomfort. With wiper fluid streaming freely over his windshield, he valiantly battled on. Flinging open every door he owned, he did his level best to escort the femme for an exit, any exit! At last, with stuffing flying through the air due to his own merchandise… (Flicking a glare toward Rover, he muttered "Traitor.") And one incredibly annoying Human, Swindle admitted defeat. Withdrawing his sensor coils and sagging on his suspension, he muttered, "Alright, you win. You can stay."
"Really?" Cassidy raised one eyebrow suspiciously. Considering the four open doors surrounding her, she eyed his dashboard. "You're not just saying that?" A deep overly exaggerated sigh of defeat ruffled her ragged curly hair.
"Yeah," he replied, sounding for all the world like a martyr. "There's just one thing I've always wondered about you…" The drifting wail of approaching police sirens began to slowly punctuate the background, courtesy his state of the art sound-system. He was gratified when he felt his opponent tense noticeably where she sat. "I thought you were behaving strangely when this noise started up… Care to offer an explanation?"
"You're a warped bastard," Cassidy rasped. "And, to answer you're question… screw you." By now, the siren's wail was deafening, carrying across several blocks. Sweat began dribbling down her ashen face as she fought the urge to curl up on the floorboards in petrified terror. He could easily have his way if she did that. Just simply tip his chassis and out she'd tumble. The other obvious response was to just take off running. Hands curling stiffly, she clutched the chair cushions around her. "There's no way I'm leaving now," she declared at the top of her lungs. Abruptly, the sound cut out, filling the car with heart-hammering stillness.
Feeling the beginning ache of an impending processor crash, he attempted to clarify matters. "Why?"
"Why not?" Shivering, Cass turned her gaze to the street just beyond the door. If she simply stepped out, she could feign ignorance. Just walk away and get out of this crazy caper before it could get her killed. Though, chances were, it would only be temporary. The brunet knew, she could feel it in her gut. Let the robots continue to play their lunatic games and she just might be out one home planet. In the second craziest gamble of her career, she focused on a new goal, the first selfless act of her life: convince one alien bastard of a robot to let her stay. "I mean," she stated, trying to muster up a little job interview enthusiasm. "Now that I'm technically not a prisoner, I can see a lot of appeal in working for yah."
"Do tell," Swindle drawled skeptically. He casually studied her fleshling form from head to toe, now more than a little suspicious. "Such as?"
Hesitating for a moment, the seventeen year old landed on inspiration. "You make life more interesting! I haven't had this much death defying fun before in my life. What are the chances that I'll find another guy that attracts this much trouble? It's a thrill a minute!"
"Considering what a boring little planetoid you live on, it's understandable," the Decepticon dryly agreed as he continued to search through his internal programs. Even though he hated utilizing a faulty product, certain circumstances dictated their use. Systems such as his ejection seats, for example. One false answer, and she was getting launched. "And this wouldn't have anything to do with personal gain, then? Like stealing the timepiece for your own use?"
Slumping, the brunet groaned in frustration. "How many times do I have to tell yah? Even if the thing magically spits out diamonds, I still couldn't use it! All anybody sees when they look at me is a kid that shouldn't be alone, traveling, or doing anything worthwhile! I wouldn't be able to spend anything without my parents permission, anyway!"
"Hmm… So the only reason you have is the draw of adventure?" He considered the matter speculatively, before abruptly adopting a ruthless business-like tone. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I don't buy it. There's got to be another reason behind this sudden interest in my charming company."
She blinked, all the energy going out of her in one whoosh. Alright, so he wanted to play hardball? The brunet could recall some careful instructions given to her by her grandfather: 'In the art of lying, partial truths are always the best. They're easier to remember, and much more believable.' "Look, it's just that… I want to know how this thing ends, okay?" Cass paused, and gave the radio a pleading look. "You guys are dealing in super-weapons, and frankly, it freaks me out. I'd just like to have a heads-up in case this entire situation goes nuclear. Just so I can be prepared for the future… if there's even going to be one. Is that too much to ask?"
"Enlightened self-interest?" There was a long pause while the Decepticon considered the fleshling's odd request. Abruptly, he powered down his ejection seat, slammed all four doors closed and put his engine in gear. In seconds, they were out of the alleyway and speeding down the road at well over forty miles an hour. "Alright, kid. You're hired. And since you don't care about being paid," the sneer in his voice displayed eloquently what he thought of that, "I'll just keep your salary for myself. Besides, it'll be a good down-payment toward reimbursing me for all the merchandise you destroyed earlier."
"Like yah weren't planning on keeping it all for yourself, to begin with," the teenager drawled while rolling her eyes. Twisting around, Cassidy set to work exploring some of the smaller side pockets in her duffle-bag. Some of it was pretty messed up. Holding up a deodorant stick that looked like it had been gnawed on by some kind of animal, she made a face, before setting it aside. Then she delved deeper. 'Hmmm, cotton balls covered in pink slime… a set of house keys that look like they've been through the grinder… What's this?' Raising one eyebrow, it took a moment for her to identify the mangled object dangling from her finger-tips. 'Oh, yeah. That crazy Robin Hood wannabe's wallet…' She jumped when a belt unexpectedly strapped her into her seat.
"That reminds me, sweetheart," Swindle began warningly. "Since you're now officially my employee, there are a few ground rules we need to set out. Like this attitude… I don't like it. It just doesn't generate that professional setting I'm striving for. Understand what I mean here, kid?"
"Sure. I'll just treat yah as if yah were my regular boss. That's easy enough," the brunet absently replied, not really bothering to maintain eye contact. There was something odd about the wallet. Now that it was almost completely ripped apart, she was noticing that it had several extra layers to it that shouldn't be there. 'A hidden pocket?' Curious, she began carefully peeling it apart.
"No," the business-mech chuckled. "I'd prefer that you didn't deliberately break the rules and treat me like a simpleton to get your own way. The sad-eyes routine doesn't work on me, kid. Though it's hilarious when you try… Are you even paying attention to me?"
"Hah," Cass triumphantly exclaimed when her fingers located a very interesting object. It was a card with fancy gold lettering displaying some very useful information. "Believe me, pal, I'm all ears. And while we're establishing the rules of the game, I think I should remind yah about how useful I can be. Like the fact that I can get into places undetected that you'd have a much more difficult time with." Brandishing the small V.I.P. invitation, she read off of it like she was a radio announcer. "Such as: the Super-Nova Club. An exclusive venue for dancing, dining, and mild pursuits of villainy!"
"For what reason in all the cosmos would I want to go there, you silly fleshling?" Mentally rolling his optics in amusement, he idly considered the information his search-engine had dutifully looked up, before setting it aside as irrelevant. Silly organic, he derisively chuckled to himself, focusing on his own goal once again. Why-ever would I care about some ink spot on the map?
"Oh, I don't know," she began speculatively while eying the drab felt ceiling. "Maybe because this particular invitation was in that Robin Hood Wannabe's wallet in a hidden compartment." Dodging a sneaky seatbelt, the card flipped out of sight before he could grab it. She grinned mischievously. "It only allows the most dastardly villains in town to attend," she informed him primly before giving his radio a teasing glance. Fluttering her eyes outrageously, she asked, "Want to be my date?"
Snorting loudly through his vents, Swindle spent a moment giving the information about the night club a more in depth study. According to the advertisements, it was newly opened, extremely expensive, and played host to a number of Detroit's local crime lords, including a certain elusive group of super-villains. In fact, it was due to have a major event tonight. Changing gears, he began heading toward the slowly setting sun. The nightclub was going to open in a few short hours and he had to prepare. "You know," the 'Con commented with a certain level of irony, "I think I just might take you up on that."