"Watchit, kid," came a low, dark rumble and he blinked at the man standing in front of him.
Dark-skinned, muscles, broad face, Mohawk. Sam gulped, intimated despite the fact that he had faced down much worse. Megatron came to mind.
Barricade chuckled in his head, clearly amused.
"Uhm, sorry, didn't see you," Sam stammered.
Mohawk Man gave him a narrowed-eyed look, then shrugged. "Open your eyes, kid. Helps."
Sam pushed past and found three more men talking to an elderly woman, who Sam had thought of the hotel owner the day before when he had checked in. She had taken his name, address and credit card information, telling him about the sights to see. She had been the warm, grand-motherly type and he had liked her immediately.
One of the two men had gray hair, though he didn't look that old. He was casually dressed. The second man was younger, handsome, charming, and smiling at the owner. Ruth, Sam recalled. She was clearly taken by his charm. The third was… weird. With a red baseball cap perched on shaggy hair, an old brown leather jacket and worn jeans he looked non-descript enough, but he was talking to… thin air. Thin air about knee-high and apparently representing a dog named Billy.
Oh-kay, Sam thought and tried to ignore him. Weirdo.
"Mr. Witwicky," Ruth greeted him. "How are you enjoying our fine city?"
"It's been nice so far. Lots to see," he answered, trying not to eye the men too openly.
"Good, good. Decided to stay another night?"
"Well, I'm meeting my parents today." Which wasn't a lie. He would, if matters allowed.
"How nice for you," she answered with a genuine smile. "I'm sure they will enjoy the Big Apple as well."
Sam was aware that he was watched by the men with eagle eyes and for some reason it felt like he was being scanned, categorized and analyzed for threat potential. Did they know what the car was? Did they use it? Abuse it? Was it aware enough to communicate or was it hiding?
"But I think I'll stay another night," Sam added, plowing on, trying to keep his cover. He dropped the key onto the counter.
"Good to hear. Have a nice day, Mr. Witwicky."
He flashed a smile at Ruth and went out the door, for all intents and purposes on the way to the sights to see.
::Barricade? Can you check registrations for the hotel? They have computers. Those four should be registered.::
::As is their car:: Barricade answered, sounding smug. ::Though it looks like a fake::
Sam frowned as he slid into the black Mustang parked two blocks away.
"John Smith?" he echoed when Barricade told him the name. "Fake? Cover? If so, why?"
"John Smith is also registered at the hotel," Barricade supplied. "As well as three guests in the room, all nameless."
"Huh."
"Checking out today," the former Decepticon added.
"Guess we'll do some surveillance work on the road then."
A wave of excitement washed over Sam and he had to stifle a smile. Bored Barricade was dangerous and with Jazz gone, Barricade was dangerously bored. It was why he had tagged along without much prodding. Now they were about to launch a hunt. It appealed to the shock-trooper side of the mech and that side was brimming with anticipation.
x x x x x x x x
Three hours later they were past the city limits and well on their way. Sam had made contact with their military contingent standing by and he had been surprised to get Will Lennox on the line.
"Bored?" Sam asked, amused.
"You have no idea. Ironhide and I are close to your position. The team's standing by. Any more reads?"
"No. Just glimpses. It's the car and it's aware, but I can't tell more."
"We ran the name John Smith and the plates again."
Sam heard something between the lines. "And?"
"And it's weird. John Smith exists, but he's a cover. A very good cover. Someone somewhere took a lot of care to construct this identity."
Sam was silent and he felt Barricade's rising interest. Despite the mech's proclamations that humanity only interested him as far as it concerned his survival, he took more than a passing interest in this case.
"To cover what?" Sam wondered out loud.
"No idea, but we'll find out eventually. Whitman's team is the best and they know how to crack a code."
Sam smiled grimly. Gene was still their top man and while he had found a lot of hacker talent in the past years, his own understanding of Cybertronian tech and how to use it to his advantage set him apart from the rest. He was an artist and he knew how to stay ahead.
"How do you want to handle it?" Lennox asked calmly.
Sam chewed on his lower lip. "Under the radar. I don't want a military strike team pushing them off the road for questioning. Might make matters worse. Let's see where they are headed and spend the night. I'll make contact with the mech mind then."
Will was silent for a moment, then, "Your choice, Sam. Just be careful."
It was his choice and he could make it. He was a Prime. He wasn't a kid who had no idea how to run things. He was, if he wanted to, in charge. Theoretically, Lennox was his senior in years. Theoretically, he could challenge him because he was also a Prime. Practically both men understood each other and Will respected his choices.
"Will do," he said out loud.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
The New York client had been an easy assignment: saving a privately owned hotel from being taken over by some business developer who wanted to level the building and sell the plot. It had been a matter of two weeks and some fun time, John 'Hannibal' Smith mused as the van with his team drove away from the Big Apple. There had been two challenging moments, but all in all nothing serious. Ruth Chambers was now safe from the greedy development company, the hotel was out of debt, and The A-Team was en route to a new client in Maine.
B.A. Baracus was driving, always, and Mudock was jabbering away in the back, gesticulating wildly about something or other. Hannibal had tuned him out, already going over the Maine client. Face was listening to Murdock with half an ear, but he was probably still lingering on Ruth's attractive niece, who had shot him down right away from day one. It had been a sobering experience for their con-man. There were only a few women who had been able to resist his charm and Rebekka was one of them. Of course, Face had been challenged by her denial and he had met that challenge, but he hadn't won.
Hannibal grinned a little. Sometimes it was very healthy for Face not to get what he wanted and was used to getting.
"Boss," B.A. suddenly rumbled.
Hannibal glanced out the front screen and sat up straighter.
"Incoming," he said softly.
Murdock stopped talking, leaning forward, and Face looked a lot more alert.
"Military?" he asked sharply.
"Ain't looking like no military I ever saw," B.A. said, hands clenching around the steering wheel of his beloved van.
"Next exit. Take it," Hannibal ordered.
B.A. didn't question him, just did it. The black car followed, but then took a different direction. The tension in the van remained until, after ten more miles, no new black pursuer appeared.
"Paranoia," Murdock sang. "Paranoia's gonna getcha! Getcha now, getcha good."
B.A. glowered at the pilot, but from the way Hannibal was watching everything, he had picked up on something. Something he thought was a hunter targeting them. But then, the military had never sent a single vehicle after them.
They drove past small towns until they found the highway again. Baracus kept checking the mirrors, but the black car didn't return, nor was there a new suspicious vehicle behind them.
Yeah, maybe paranoia was what would get them for good one day.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
For the next five hours Barricade followed the black van, displaying a cunning pursuit technique that had Sam smile. He would take the same exit, but not head in the same direction afterwards, only to catch up to the van anew, in a different color outfit. He would keep an optic on the van as they drove a parallel route, then, at an intersection, would get in front or behind the van. Once he used his police decals and it got them a surprising result: the van's driver chose the next exit, took to a parking lot of a mall close by and waited until Barricade had passed by. Through satellite images Sam followed the progress of the van as it immediately headed down a different route and only later joined the old highway once more.
"Not fond of police," the technopath muttered.
Barricade rumbled softly, accelerating again.
"Don't run it too close," Sam immediately said as he picked up on the mech's thoughts.
"Stay out of my mind."
He didn't rise to the bait, just tensed when they neared the van once more. It had just taken an exit toward a diner. Barricade slowed down as if to follow, then went past. The holoform had popped up, surrounding Sam like a second skin, giving him the appearance of the dark-haired, blue-eyed officer Barricade had taken a liking to lately. The hologram tickled his senses, but he didn't feel any different. Sam caught a brief look of the dark-skinned driver watching them suspiciously.
They were around the corner and Barricade dissolved the camouflage to turn completely black. They settled down for a wait.
It was ten minutes into their waiting game that Lennox called.
"Got news," Will said. "Gene found some interesting things on the men driving the van. You're not going to believe it."
"Right now, I'll believe anything," Sam smiled. "Unless you tell me they're Decepticon spies."
"Nope. Not that bad. But interesting nevertheless. Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith exists. He and his team were a highly skilled and even more highly regarded Special Forces united stationed in Iraq. Because of a mission gone bad, and I mean really bad, they were sentenced to serve ten years in a military prison – from which they escaped and have been on the run ever since."
"Criminals," Barricade rumbled.
"No," Will told him. "Not if you believe the rumors floating freely when you know where to look. Seems they were set up to take the fall and went out to prove it, but sadly all evidence that would clear them has either disappeared or isn't enough. I'll forward all files. You can have a look whenever you want, Sam. No one from us is going to pick up where the military has left off to chase those guys. I'm convinced, just from looking at the files, that they're innocent. Ever since they disappeared and have been hunted, they offered their services to those who can't get justice or can be heard otherwise. Think robin Hood and you get an idea."
Sam felt Barricade access the net to get a grasp on the reference, then sensed his surprise.
"The men with Smith are Sergeant B.A. Baracus, Captain H.M. Murdock and Lieutenant Templeton Peck. Their personal files are included."
Barricade, who had already skimmed through all of it, whirred softly and Sam caught the gist of things. Like the fact that Murdock claimed to be insane, but was a crack pilot. Or that Peck was called 'Face' and a top-notch con artist.
"I only need a few minutes alone with the van," the technopath said, almost to himself. His respect of the men was immense and he really didn't want to encounter them on a bad day. And sneaking around the van would make a bad day.
Barricade's dark presence rose. Sam felt the protectiveness without the mech putting it into words. If one would threaten Sam, Barricade would do a lot more than just threaten back. It felt good to know he had protection, but it also told him that he wasn't a soldier. He was… whatever. He needed protecting.
Sam pushed that thought away, but he wasn't fast enough for it to not leak into Barricade's mind. Damn, sometimes the connection was a nuisance.
"Maybe you should finally accept what you are, Samuel James Witwicky," was the cold, hard rebuke. "You are a warrior, a technopath, a human, a Prime, a bonded, a scientist and the offspring of Ronald and Judy Witwicky. Not necessarily in that order."
Sam stared. Even after such a long time of knowing Barricade the mech still managed to surprise him.
"Okay," he said slowly, not sure what this meant and where it had actually come from. "I wouldn't call myself a warrior, though."
"You are. With your weapons of choice. Being a warrior doesn't mean guns. It doesn't mean soldier either. You will fight for your life, for the life of your bonded, for the lives of your friends."
Sam felt echoes of something touch him, of something deeply personal for Barricade. He understood.
"Yeah. I still don't think 'warrior' fits the life I want to lead."
"Control only extends so far," was the growl. A very telling growl.
Sam let the subject drop. He knew he wasn't in any danger and that Barricade wouldn't harm him, but there were areas he wouldn't tread until he had to.
This was one of them.
And he had something else to think of: the van. And how to make contact with it.
tbc...