The Diego Diaries: Cat and Mouse (dd6 639)

=0=Waiting in a conference room at the Prison Control Room

They heard swearing and cursing as Springer walked back with Big Jim Johnson in hand. Literally. Smirking at each other, Hauser and Drift stared at the doorway. When Springer appeared they would look like he did, solemn and even brutal in expression. On the inside, Springer was having a lively laughing conversation with the three …

He walked to the room where they were being held and entered. The mercenaries who were doing various things from relaxing to watch the television to pacing stared at him with loathing. He stared at each of them aware the channel to them was open. "Hm … which one is next?" he murmured to himself, smirking slightly as they showed concern.

The humans stood, then stepped back. They weren't going to make it easier.

Then Springer grinned. "I'll take Johnson for $300, Alex," he said giving a glimpse of the television shows that amused him to the punters. "Get your gear on, Johnson. You're next."

He then pulled Ortega out of his hold and stood him on the threshold of the carrier box that was still slotted into the cell. Ortega entered, then walked to his apartment as the carrier box door closed behind him.

"What if I don't go with you, fucker?" Johnson said as he stood in defiance of Springer.

Springer stared at him, then shrugged slightly. "Okay. I'll just punch the container you're in and watch the atmosphere vanish. Then I'll write a report to Prime that we had an 'accident'. You know. A boo boo."

Johnson stared at him, then Springer raised his fist. "Wait. Fuck you, Springer," he said as he cast about for his gear.

Springer grinned slightly. "There you go again. You know that it would never work. You're a squishy and I'm the God of the Hunt." He laughed loudly, then reached in when Johnson was ready. He pulled him out like he was a hamster in a cage, then headed for the doorway. Johnson swore like a sailor the whole time. They disappeared out of sight almost instantly.

The others stared at the door, then tried to get a glimpse of Ortega. Though they could hear outside if they pressed a comm button near their door, they couldn't communicate with each other. It would be another long night and only two of them were hauled out for who knew what so far.

=0=Down the corridor

Springer walked along like he had a dollie in his servo. He reached the door, walked inside and set Johnson down on the table gently. He turned on Springer, swearing at him profusely, then glanced at the other two. They stared at him without comment, though they were making them right and left off line.

:What do you fuckers want?: Johnson asked with fury. He clenched his fists tightly as he glared at them.

"I want you for murder. I like you for the murders of Dobbs and Lombardi. What about you two?" Springer asked.

Drift nodded. "I like them for it, too." He leaned in closer to Johnson who backed up slightly. "For the murders, not for your warm and sparkling personality."

:Fuck you, Drift: Johnson said darkly. He was getting his bearings and mustered a lot of nerve for a guy with zero options.

"What? That's my job," Springer said as he frowned at Drift.

"How does it feel? Now you know what I feel like when all the soldier boys say 'fuck you' to you. They do it in front of me, too, without a thought to my feelings. I want you to know," he said leaning in toward Johnson, "that I don't play around. At least, not when he's looking." He then winked at the human.

Springer sat back with a slight smirk. "Who have you fragged around with behind my back?"

Drift sniffed slightly. "Like I'd tell you? What about that time when he was arrested and he said that to you. You never took a moment to think about what I felt like. Not once."

:Are you two through?" Johnson asked.

Everyone glanced at Johnson. "No," the two said.

Springer leaned closer. "Tell me what you know about the murders. Do it while you still have a chance to blame it on someone else. I wish you could know what Ortega told us. It was damned near an aviary in here the way he was singing."

"I like that but then I like birds," Drift said with a grin.

"It's yours," Springer said. He looked at Johnson. "Tell me true things because we're going to match them against Ortega and he told us that he could give a tinker's damn about politics and the rest of you. He's not going to take a fall so he spilled. What about you, Johnson? Are you as dumb as you look?"

Johnson stepped closer to Springer. :You're not funny, Springer. You haven't got shit. I didn't kill anyone. You know it and I know it:

"It doesn't matter what I know, idiot. Its what the jury says. We have to pin this shit on someone. Since we don't like any of you and we don't like you the most, you win. See?" Springer said as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chassis. "Talk while the window is open. It's coming down hard shortly and we're flipping a coin which one of you slaggers takes the fall." He glanced at the other two who were lounging in their chairs with grins. "Amirite?"

"Are you channeling Ma?" Drift asked.

"I am," Springer said as he began to warm up to his own bullshit.

Drift stared at Johnson a moment. "We have a case. Circumstantial at the moment. All we have to do is hang it on one of you fraggers. No one is going to care. You have a great criminal history here already, Johnson, of fighting and being a dope. It won't take long for a jury to find you guilty. You do know that this is going to be tried here? No special get-out-of-jail cards for any of you. We made that clear in the beginning."

Johnson stared at all of them. :You're so high and mighty. You say you have ethics and you're no better than criminals:

"And you? You take money to kill people when you're told. Intel-Martin used to give kids to their soldiers when they had their drunken parties when they were doing thug work in war zones. How many kids do you abuse, Johnson? Are you going to lecture us on morality when you kill kids for money?" Springer asked.

Johnson stared at him with fury and loathing. :I didn't kill anyone. I was always with someone when I left the habitat. I never was on my own. Check the records, stupid. You'll find out I had no opportunity to kill anyone. Though I wanted to off Lombardi myself sometimes. That fucker was climbing on our backs into Harris's favor:

"I heard he was the leader of your merry little band," Hauser said. "That's a good motive. You just said you wanted to kill him yourself. You heard it, right?" He glanced at Springer and Drift who nodded.

"They never called you Too Smart Johnson did they?" Springer asked as Drift and Hauser laughed. "Let's pretend that you didn't do it. Who did then, sport? Amuse us as we work out the presentation to the Attorney General that we got our man with you."

Johnson glared at him. :The others. No one liked that Lombardi could come into the game late and steal home base:

"BASEBALL METAPHOR!" Hauser said. "I hope we have pro baseball here. Continue, slagger."

Johnson stared at him, then Springer. :Lombardi like to hang with the strikers. Two of them at the Consulate came to Earth2 when they could to play cards and hang out on the farm. The also went to Unidad. They were tight, the two strikers and Lombardi. They had mutual friends or missions. I can't remember which. Talk to them. Mueller and Anderson. They're N.E.S.T guys. They probably did it:

"If they were friends, why would they kill Lombardi? That still leaves Dobbs," Hauser said.

:Dobbs was a jerk. He hated Lombardi. He wanted to make a lot of money then go back to Earth and live like a sultan. He wasn't too bright, Dobbs. He believed things and took chances. It was only a matter of time before he did something that took him out of the game: Johnson said.

"Is that so," Springer asked as he leaned closer. "What about you? What sort of grudge did you have with Dobbs? I don't remember any of you getting along at Diego. What keeps me from hanging this on you like Christmas tree lights?"

:We worked together. We went on missions with Intel-Martin in the past. We weren't enemies but we weren't friends. We had nothing in common, most of us. Hedges and me … we have a lot in common. We both hate your guts, you and your shitty species. Now if some of you came up dead, you might have a reason to check us out but you're barking up the wrong tree. None of us did this. Fuck you by the way, too: Johnson said.

Springer glanced at Drift. "Are you going to let him talk to me like that?"

Drift glanced at Johnson. "Stop," he whispered.

Springer grinned. "Fragger," he said as he stood. He gripped Johnson then walked out of the room.

"He might be right. Somehow, the two got wind of this and Anderson and Mueller took them out. What they knew was enough to get them killed." Hauser considered that. "I would say that Johnson and Hedges are ringers as well as the two strikers. They never hid their ties to the terrorists on Earth and maybe the others are, too. Or maybe they aren't. I don't know."

Springer walked back in, then set Todd Baseman on the table. He staggered, then straightened. He was scared and didn't hide it. "Hauser, I give you Todd. The last time I had to cart him to jail he wet on my hand. It was disgusting."

"That sounds intriguing," Hauser said. He leaned in toward Baseman. "Show me," he said.

Baseman was so startled he nearly complied.

=0=On an alternate Cybertron

Megatron Prime checked the short list of new prisoners that he had signaled Optimus about. They were good loses to the new thriving and resurrecting civilization that he led. The People were getting back on their feet and the damaged parts of their planet, though not great and widespread were still swiftly disappearing under the leadership he provided.

Prowl stood next to him waiting for his compliance. He himself had delved into work to assuage the charred remains of his spark. Though Optimus Prime, theirs, was a sparkless killer and all around maniac, Prowl had developed deep feelings for him anyway. Sometimes he wondered if it was just post traumatic stress, then something would trigger him and he would nearly come apart at the seams with emotion. "I can send the signal for pick up at Tennyson if you concur."

"I do, Prowl. Thank you. Please give my best regards to our counterparts," Megatron said as he handed the data pad to his second-in-command.

"I shall," Prowl said as he walked to the door and left the room.

Megatron watched him go, then looked at his desk. It was covered in work but he didn't mind. His family lived here now and he was doing the right thing. To do less than that never once crossed his mind.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot City, another dimension away

Prowl handed the data pad to Prime who perused it. "Do you want to be there? This one is so strange."

"I think so," Prime said. He looked at the names on the data pad.

Hound

Inferno

Cliffjumper

Impactor

And last and not least, Alpha Trion

=0=At the jailhouse. Now.

:I didn't get to go out alone and I only went with the others:

"Who's to say, Todd, that you didn't have accomplices?" Hauser asked.

:Fuck that. I didn't do it. Check out Johnson and Hedges. They hate you. They really hate you and came here to make trouble. I came here because the pay is good and its an adventure. I didn't come here to get thrown in jail:

Hauser sat back, then shrugged to Springer. "I believe him. Who wouldn't?"

"Do you want a show of hands?" Drift asked.

Springer chuckled, then gripped Todd. "Hold that thought until I get back," he said as he walked out the door to get another.

=0=TBC 4-16-19

The game show reference was to Jeopardy! Where contestants call for questions that are in answer form and have to respond with the question. Alex is Alex Trebeck. Very popular and long running.