Once again, massive thanks to my Betas who give me the spinal struts to keep updating, couldn't do it without you guys. As always, anything you recognize, and probably a few things you don't I don't own, and reviews are massively appreciated, they keep me going on the right track.
Chapter 33 - Fugitive
(MPOV)
The sun had moved another two inches in the sky when Jetfire landed. I ran toward him then backed up quickly.
"Been doing Mach three have you?" I shouted.
"How can you tell that?" he demanded.
"Because you're hotter than I can approach without physical damage," I teased him. A surge of energon passed over him.
"There, I hope you're happy, I hate being this cold," he grumbled as the cockpit opened.
"I am so sorry that evolution made me so damned frail," I grumbled back. He barked a coarse laugh and took off again. "I have co-ordinates for us to meet the rest of them at," I informed Jetfire calmly.
"Excellent! Where are we going?" he asked cheerfully. I read out the numbers.
"What? Why that's hardly a trip at all! Let's scout around a bit first. How the pit can you have so much energon running through your system and still be so frail?"
"The energon came after," I said calmly.
"That would explain why you're so free with it," Jetfire rumbled, "here, give us another burst, I could do with an upgrade."
I laid my palms on the instrumentation panel and watched in shock as it modernized itself. The shape remained the same though, barely a modification.
"Thaats better," Jetfire rumbled, "Always wanted to do that. Get rid of that blasted fuel and use a proper cooling system! Right, care to try it out? Promise I'll go straight to SOCCENT if you pass out."
I grabbed the harness and buckled myself in.
"Let's fly!" I shouted through a broad grin.
Jetfire went into a hairpin turn and climbed, I tightened my muscles almost instinctively, initially clinging to consciousness then shouting out a battle cry of exhilaration. We flew an hour then circled north. A voice came on the radio.
"Enemy infiltrator, you are entering controlled US airspace, squawk ident and proceed North out of the area." it commanded.
"US Airspace, hopefully you're SOCCENT," I replied calmly, "identifying as Blackbird under orders and requesting permission to land."
"Blackbirds got decommissioned in '93!" the man exclaimed irritably.
"Yes well, we're flying, and under orders from Major Lennox to land at 32˚13'35.2" and 41˚9' 33.2"." I replied apologetically.
"Do you have enough fuel to circle while we get confirmation on that?" the man demanded.
"I believe so sir," I said calmly.
"Yeah I do!" Jetfire confirmed irritably. The radio cut out. "This is drone shit!" Jetfire announced irritably.
"Yes well, they haven't seen your signature on the radar in years," I said apologetically.
Jetfire grunted and turned east.
"Blackbird you have permission to land," the man stated apologetically about ten minutes later.
"Well it's about bloody time!" Jetfire replied irritably, turning and throwing on a quick burst of speed. In moments the airbase was visible on the screen in front of me. Jetfire leaned back, slowing at an incredible rate before tipping down again, landing and braking hard. A tiny surge of energon rolled over us, cooling the skin as the cockpit opened.
"Please, please try to act like a normal airplane!" I groaned.
"Absolutely not! I have had enough of playing the part of a machine!" Jetfire stated indignantly, "I am an auto-bot and they can bleedin' well get used to it!"
I groaned and leaned my head against him for a second before climbing out of the cockpit, dropping down to the ground with a grunt. Jetfire taxied off to the end of the runway. "Oi! You! Get out of my bloody spot! That's infiltrator territory!" he demanded of one of the planes.
"Jetfire for Primus sake park somewhere else!" I bellowed, "That plane isn't even fucking sentient! And don't you dare destroy it! I'm in enough trouble without you adding fifty-six million dollars onto my tab!"
A tank thundered toward us and lowered the cannon to point directly at me. I stared it down furiously as soldiers with guns surrounded me.
"OH! Oh so now you're going to shoot a motherfucking civilian now!" I bellowed. "You know what? Go right the fuck ahead!" I stamped my foot. "Better than trying to survive in a motherfucking paranoid world of secrets and bastards! At least have the fucking decency to offer me a cigarette and a blindfold!" I crossed my arms and glared at the tank. "So if you're a scrapping Decepticon punk I hope you've said your gods damned prayers to Primus!" I added in a low growl that only a sensitive microphone or Cybertronian would be able to hear.
"Stand down!" a man on a megaphone bellowed in a panic, driving at top speed toward us. "For gods sake stand down! Civilian! Civilian caught in a messy and hellish day!"
Guns immediately pointed to the ground. The tank shut it's engines down. I closed my eyes and focused on breathing deeply.
"Miss? Miss you have my sincerest apologies," the man said in a horrified tone. I took another deep breath and looked at him.
"It's okay," I said quietly. "Decommissioned aircraft flies in, civilian jumps out, aircraft parks itself. I'd be a bit tense too after what happened last time. Who do I need to beg for coffee or preferably something stronger at this point?" I glanced at his collar, "Colonel."
The Colonel looked around.
"Anyone carrying a flask who can offer a swig to a civilian female who got half-kidnapped by a sentient aircraft after defusing a bomb in the Smithsonian back home won't be disciplined!" he called out.
"Holy fuck keep it!" a man sitting on top of the tank shouted, tossing a flask.
I snagged it out of the air and unscrewed the top, a quick sniff said whiskey, I downed a hefty swallow and let my rigid stance sag. "Did Lennox tell you how much I'm allowed to tell you?" I asked in an exhausted voice. I took another shot and screwed the cap back on, tossing it up to the man in the tank with a look of gratitude. He nodded and pocketed it.
"He said that you can tell us whatever the hell you want about the aliens." the Colonel said in a grim tone. "In fact, I think most of us would prefer it."
"What. The fuck." I stated.
"Oh! righ'!" Jetfire called out, "the Fallen activated about an hour ago while we were flyin'! Secret's out now, he's got the entire world out for your blood."
No.
"Hang on," I started in a quiet, patient voice. "You got a transmission an hour ago stating that I'm now a wanted fugitive and you forgot to tell me!?" I finished in a shriek. "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU FORGET TO INFORM SOMEONE ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT!?"
"MISS BANES!" the Colonel bellowed.
"Just kill me now Colonel!" I exclaimed, borderline hysterical and catching hold of his uniform. "Bullet to the brain! Something merciful! That brown nosing little NSA prick Galloway will turn me over to the Decepticons faster than clothes dry out here. I am dead either way!"
The circle of men stared at me, dead silent.
"Options report." the Colonel stated blackly. "Opposing parties."
"Decepticons vs. Auto-bot's." I stated in an automatic, neutral tone, backing up and standing to attention. "Choice between a faction whose leader kindly offered my possible survival to be a pet, vs the faction that ordered me to destroy the only thing that could save their home planet in the interest of preserving ours, which would kill him in the process. I chose Auto-bot."
"You are not getting turned in!" The Colonel stated blackly. "We will be maintaining radio silence for the next two days until your leader picks you up personally. YOU are going to tell us everything we need to know to put up a good fight."
"Well then why the hell did you give me alcohol!?" I stated in a calmer tone.
"Because girl? You fuckin' needed it," one of the soldiers stated in an incredulous tone. I took another deep breath and shook myself.
"Alright," I stated in a businesslike tone, "first off, regular munitions don't do a damn thing against these guys. If they aren't already, you're going to want to retrofit your gunships for high heat sabot rounds and stronger. Jetfire, can you transform without alerting every Decepticon in the area of our location?"
In answer, Jetfire snorted, taxiing out and flexing into his bipedal form.
"You want to tell them how to fight?" I called up to him, "In about five minutes I'm going to be nonsensical."
"Aye sir," he nodded down to me. "Alright you little spinal cord based organisms, you remember this well! The bigger we are, the harder we fall! But the bigger we are, the harder it is to make us fall! Weak points! Headshot! Destroy the optics!" he pointed to his eyes, "Destroy our spark!" he pried his chest plates open to show his spark chamber, glowing a vivid blue in the fading sun. "Don't bother trying to disable! Shoot to kill. Chest and head, chest just below the plates! And remember! We may be few! And they may take our lives! But they will never again take our Freedom!"
"So our weapons-"
"Have finally reached the point where you can hurt us," Jetfire nodded to the soldier.
"Finally?" the colonel asked curiously.
"Hah! When I got here your lot were shootin' each other with bits o' wood... what're they called again... longbows." Jetfire snorted.
"So you've never-" another soldier asked warily.
"Killed one o' you? Sure I have," Jetfire snorted. "Min' it were one o' yer own pressin' me buttons tae' do it..."
I held back the snort at the Braveheart quote and looked around tiredly as Jetfire began a detailed analysis of the different shapes of Decepticons and where to hit them, even going so far as to online holoform examples.
"Bunks are this way," the soldier who'd tossed me the liquor said kindly.
"You are the best person ever," I smiled at him tiredly.
"You're that drunk already?" he asked with a small laugh.
"I wish." I groaned. He showed me to an empty tent and let me be. I sat on the cot and leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands. I took my shoes off and in minutes I was asleep.
At the moment, I feel a need to apologize for the sheer number of times Mikaela has dropped the F bomb. However, when staring down a tank, in the middle of a circle of soldiers pointing various instruments of messy death, I think an F bomb or two is appropriate. No?
Oh, also, when it comes to co-ordinates, 32˚13'35.2" and 41˚9' 33.2", is read as thirty-two degrees, thirteen minutes and thirty-five point two seconds, and 41 degrees, nine minutes and thirty-three point two seconds. Just in case you were wondering.