Chapter Five
"Do you have even the slightest clue what you've just done?" Wildfire angrily demanded of Sixshot, still carrying the wounded cricket T-Mech in her arms.
"Yes, I eliminated the problem," Sixshot casually answered, holstering his weapon.
"No, you just made it about ten times worse. Now that you've got us marked as cop-killers they're going to send in the military mechs, and then we're ALL wrecked!" Wildfire shouted, marching up to the Decepticon elite and the minibot nearby. "We have always avoided killing humans because that is going to make it harder for everyone! If they get scared they're gonna take it out on us, not just as individuals but as a whole!"
"Humans won't bring devastating weapons or munitions into a densely populated area," Sixshot countered, staring down at the smaller female.
"Helloooo~! New York ring a bell?" Wildfire countered, dripping with sarcasm. "They did it once, they'll do it again. You just threw a rock at the hornet's nest and - oh why am I even bothering, I have to get her out of here, she's injured and I don't have time to argue!"
"Let them come. I want to test the mettle of these military units," Sixshot announced with smug arrogance.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Now Tailgate interjected, sharing Wildfire's incredulity. "You keep saying you're going to protect me but then you want a full on military strike that could be powerful enough decimate a city?! What is wrong with you?!"
"You think I'm not capable of protecting you?" Sixshot sniffed, blowing off Tailgate's concern.
"We're not sticking around to find out," Wildfire stated firmly. She glanced over at Tailgate. "C'mon kid, you're with me. He can stand around and wait and to get cratered if he wants, but you don't have to."
Sixshot rounded on the female TransMechanoid half his size, stepping between her and Tailgate. "He stays with me," the Elite warned, drawing his handgun.
Holding the cricketoid carefully, Wildfire glared back up into Sixshot's optics, practically bristling in defiance. Tailgate couldn't bear to watch; she was suicidally brave (the emphasis on 'suicidally') and couldn't possibly know what Sixshot was capable of. The minibot was almost certain she wouldn't be standing for much longer if she continued to press the issue.
She pressed it. "I'm sorry, but I think that's his decision to make, not yours."
Think, Tailgate, think! He knew there had to be something he could do to defuse this situation before it got any worse. He could hear the power couplings inside Sixshot's weaponry beginning to power up and the red femme's legs shifting slightly, ready to run, her arms holding the leaking pseudo-Insecticon closer to her torso, and there would be only a split second where either of them would be paying enough attention to him to register his protests. A lesser mech would have used the opportunity to save himself, but Tailgate had decided to be an Autobot. That sort of thinking just wasn't an option anymore.
"Oh Sixshot, sweetspark, please don't do anything to her because of me!" Tailgate pleaded in honeyed tones, trying to pour on the charm while simultaneously wanting to vomit. "I know you're worried about me getting lost on this planet without you and you just can't bear to be separated from me, but maybe this nice femme has a point." Tailgate sidled over to Sixshot and cuddled up against the giant multichanger's leg, dragging a finger over his shin guards. "You don't have to keep blowing things up to impress me, we're already conjunx endura, you know." He flickered his optics coyly for effect.
Cue the sound effect of a window breaking for Sixshot, who seemed to have developed a tic under his right optic as his ability to concentrate shattered.
Wildfire side-glanced at him questioningly, uncertain how to react to the awkward display of affection. "Ooookay," she replied slowly and carefully. "Well then, if that's settled just... follow me." She frowned, serious again. "And hurry - I have an injured T-Mech and I have to take us on foot."
"...v-very well," Sixshot stammered, stone-still as he acquiesced to Wildfire's demand. His processor still looping with errors, he tried to shake Tailgate free from his leg.
Wildfire called out to them as she turned away from the two and began to run toward and past the broken carrier. "C'mon, lovebirds, get the lead out. It won't be long before they send in the air units!"
Sixshot snatched up Tailgate again and began to pursue the red TransMech, recovering from his shock.
"Talk to me in that manner again," the multichanger grumbled at his smaller hostage, "and I will kill you."
Tailgate surrendered to being manhandled, practically melting in disgust and relief. "Don't worry," he morosely replied. "If that happens again, I'll do it myself."
::I don't know what you did back there Wild, but the police band blew up. They're calling for heavy duty back up from the airbase. You'd better get to the rendezvous point on the double.:: A brief, uneasy pause in Gauge's speech told Wildfire how dire the situation had become without need of explanation. ::We can't wait more than four minutes. Good luck.::
"Stay on me, big guy, there are security cameras all over the place but they have their blind spots. We'll have to do some roof jumping but we should be able to go off-radar if we step careful!" the red transmech called back to the Decepticon Elite behind her.
"Just run. I'll take care of the cameras," Sixshot stated, already at Wildfire's side.
"If you take care of them like you did the cops, I'll pass," she retorted sharply back, leaping in mid-step to the second story roof of an upscale coffee shop on the right side of the street.
The Phase Sixer would have none of it. Ejecting a grenade from a weapon port on his right side, he took the device into his free hand, raising it over his head. Tailgate went wide-eyed and tried to shout at him to stop, but he ignored the minibot. Wildfire ground to a halt across the gravel-coated roof just in time to see the grenade get thrown onto the pavement.
Boomf! Clouds of thick black smoke exploded into the streets, choking out visibility in all directions. Sixshot leaped out of the smoke, rivulets of it streaming off his teal, violet and white mesh like black rain, Tailgate still firmly in his grasp, the little bot covering his eyes. Landing near Wildfire he somehow managed to convey smug satisfaction despite his faceplate. "I am capable of moving with stealth as well as power," he chided the smaller female with a warrior's arrogant confidence.
"Should have done that in the first place," Wildfire muttered behind her own faceplate. "Access shaft is six blocks south and two east. Think you can keep us covered until we hit the rendezvous point?"
"Protoform's play," Sixshot quipped.
"stop the ride, I think I want to get off," Tailgate whimpered faintly.
"One last loop and we're clear. Just try not to barf," Wildfire consoled, reaching over to pat Tailgate on the shoulder, not caring the Sixshot was giving her the evil eye the moment she made contact with his hostage. Re-adjusting the cricket-bot in her arms, and ascertaining the state of the smaller female's injuries to make certain they hadn't worsened, Wild was off.
Sixshot observed her in motion, following closely behind, mimicking her steps so far as the structures of the buildings would allow. He was bigger and weightier; she was smaller and more agile, and thus could perch on thinner structures he could not hope to impact without crushing. In keeping step with her nimble movements, a sense of familiarity washed over him. She was moving with the same sort of calculated martial prowess as he himself. This Earth-borne weak-sparked drone carried herself as if she had been trained by Cybertronian metallikato master.
Crunch! Sixshot and Wildfyre dropped down into wide side-street alleyway, smashing recycling bins beneath their heavy metal feet. Waiting for them were the others, Gauge having stabilized the police unit, Dirt Drop by the ramp down into the access tunnels for the high-speed transports running underneath the city.
"Here and not a moment to spare!" Gauge said. "Our new friend is capable of transforming now, and Dirt Drop can carry the cricketoid." The red and white medic's optic band shifted its glow to the miserable minibot held like a can of beer in Sixshot's hands. "Is he injured?" he questioned, not certain what to make of what he was seeing.
"Jealous boyfriend," Wildfyre explained.
"Not going to ask," Gauge said, shaking his head. He turned to Dirt Drop. "Open the gate! Move out!"
The big indigo sport utility vehicle transformed, sending the access code to the gate. The shutter rolled upwards and into the artificial light and sealed concrete of the underground highway access ramp.
*.*.*.*
"They're headed underground!"
"Stay on them!"
Fowler gripped the back of the chair tighter as he glared, jaw clenched, at the tracking information on the oversized workstation monitor in front of him. Nearby, anxious military technicians were doing their best to keep up with the rogue Transmechs and their Cybertronian tag-a-longs. The tension in the room wound tighter with every moment, the Autobot guests in Hangar E pushed to the backburner in light of current events.
"Did you get any audio on that conversation between the breaker and Sixshot?" Jack questioned a middle-aged, dark-haired communications officer a few feet away.
"No," the man replied with a disappointed grimace, as if the failure of the equipment was somehow his own. "But we have visuals up to the smoke bomb from the deception. Look here," he said, pointing to a secondary video capture window that would allow rewind and playback. "The aggression is all the Decepticons. The Autobot and the Breaker didn't fire a shot. In fact, it looks as if they were trying to get Sixshot to stop shooting."
Fowler's head snapped over towards the conversation as he stood up and marched over to Jack and the communications officer. "So the Breaker isn't engaging as a hostile?"
"Doesn't look like it," Jack mused, watching the video feed. "Looks like she's angry at Sixshot for it."
"Or she's angry she didn't get the first shot in," Fowler countered, playing Devil's advocate. It earned him a disapproving glare from Jack; the older man held up his hands, trying to calm his adopted son's ire. "Hey, you know I don't want it to be that way either," he said softly, "but we have to consider all the angles, good and bad. Right now we can't offer anything solid to prove that the Breaker isn't a Decepticon waiting to happen."
Jack's expression relented, understanding, but still not liking the situation, as he glanced back over at the video feed. "Still, this is better than nothing."
"Right," Fowler agreed with a nod of his head, quickly snapping back into action. "You!" he exclaimed, pointing at the communications officer. "Agent Townsend, I want that video footage backed up and backed up again. It's all we have right now towards determining the Breakers' intentions."
"On it, sir!" Townsend responded as Jack and Fowler turned from the command center, back towards the Autobots.
"If you guys have any idea what Sixshot wants, I'm all ears," he asked.
Bumblebee vented, shaking his head negatively. "All we know is that he wanted us to follow him here. He wouldn't have taken Tailgate hostage otherwise."
"Isn't it obvious?" Whirl blurted out. "He's a Decepticon Elite! Proud Ninja Warrior and all that scrap! He wants to go down in a blaze of glory!"
The others gave pause, the corner of Ultra Magnus' optic twitching as if he were repressing the need to bend Whirl into some kind of decorative centerpiece, but it was Cyclonus that spoke first.
"As broken as Whirl may be, I think he might be correct," he conceded. "It suits what I have witnessed from his behavior and martial prowess."
"If that's the case then it is absolutely imperative that we do NOT lose track of them. The last thing this planet needs is a repeat visit from a world-killing Decepticon bent on suicide-by-cop," Fowler firmly stated.
A loud profanity got the attention of the room. "They did it again!" It was Agent Townsend. "As soon as they hit the underground transit tunnels they just vanished!"
Uncharacteristically, Fowler repeated the curse as he turned sharply back to the video monitors. The heads of the Autobots turned to Raf and Jack, looking for an explanation.
"The Breaker cell in Las Vegas seem to have some kind of cloaking mechanism, or some way to jam scanning devices," Jack said, getting the hint passed via confused Cybertronian faces. "Every time they go underground we lose them. We've been trying to figure out how they've been doing it for months."
"What about Sixshot?" Raf asked as he slid down the railing of an upper-level staircase, rushing down to the control center, white labcoat fanning out behind him as he ran. "He's a Decepticon, we should be able to track his spark frequency-"
"Ix-nay on the ark-spay stuff," Fowler interrupted in a harsh whisper as Raf skidded to a stop in his high tops in front of the colonel. "That information is on a need-to-know-basis."
"And Bee doesn't need to know?" Raf quietly protested, frowning.
"Negative Agent Esquivez," Townsend interjected, trying to keep the conversation going smoothly for Fowler's benefit. "Sixshot's gone too. Either the Breakers are cloaking him or he has some kind of on-board stealth technology."
"He calls himself a 'ninja'," Fowler replied as Rafael continued to glare at him. "Stealth's probably his em-oh."
+Colonel Fowler is acting suspiciously,+ Ultra Magnus privately radioed Bumblebee. +I don't like it.+
+Fifteen years is a long time on Earth. Maybe he has his reasons,+ Bumblebee responded, trying to reassure himself more than Magnus.
+I would advise caution nonetheless. Our standing with the humans is no longer as good as it used to be,+ Magnus stated.
Bumblebee stood up, looking at Fowler, Raf and Jack on the mezzanine in front of him. "Is there anything we can do?" he asked, trying to get their attention – and if he was lucky – some idea of how tense Human-Cybertronian relations had become.
Jack sighed heavily and shook his head. He could empathize with both Autobot and Earth forces. He tried to distance himself from taking a strong position either way. Part of him ached to know how Arcee was getting along without him. At that moment, he missed her sorely. "Not right now. If you went out into the city to find them you'd be recognized immediately. We can try to quarantine Sixshot's arrival to kept word from getting out, but it would be a bad idea for Autobot and Decepticon emblems to be seen on Earth at the same time. All hell would break loose."
"Well we can't just let let Sixshot stay on Earth, especially not with the situation you've described with these TransMechanoids," Bumblebee protested. "I won't matter what your planet's leaders think if they're involved in a full-scale uprising with a Decepticon Elite leading it!"
"Sixshot will likely make an appearance in public again. We can capture and extract him then," Ultra Magnus offered coolly to the young Autobot commander.
"By that time it might be too late for humanity!" Fowler protested.
"HEY YOU GUYS," Whirl shouted at the maximum level of his vocoder.
Cyclonus' optics went wide at the noise and he covered his audioceptors, clenching his teeth in supreme irritation. Whirl waved his arms wildy to make certain all eyes were on him. "YOU GUYS. HEY. Hey. Listen: Ultra Magnus and Bumblebee were here before, right? Humanity knows what they look like. Probably have cool action figures and posters and scrap for their kids, too – they're famous. BUT!" He leaned over Cyclonus' shoulders and gently clamped onto the purple mech's wrists and slooowly pulled them away from Cylonus' ears. ("You might wanna listen to this if you wanna get your boyfriend back in one piece, ol' buddy ol' pal," he whispered to the other mech, making Cyclonus bristle with barely contained rage.) "But! Cykey and me are complete and totally unknowns to humanity. I'd suggest First Aid too, but since his t-cog is el-dead-o, he's gonna be kinda completely useless for my brilliant plan."
"And what is that brilliant plan," Bumblebee deadpanned, expression flat.
"Cyclonus and I strip off our badges, transform, scan a couple of Earth modes and try to infiltrate the Breakers. Sure, Sixshot will recognize us but Cyclonus and I are made of planet-shattering epic when we work together in battle. Me, a completely awesome former Wrecker with this guy using his giant sword? No chance we can lose! I mean, Cyclonus knows some of that fruity martial arts stuff, he should be able to out-ninja Sixshot," Whirl explained confidently.
"... Is he serious?" Fowler asked.
"He's serious," Magnus and Bee answered in unison.
First Aid uneasily spoke up, reticent to participate in the arguments; he was already uncomfortable with the level of conflict and uncertain of what he could do to help. "I hate to point this out, Whirl, but you're as unable to transform as I am. You're missing half your body."
"Ha! Like that's going to stop me. They said that these TransMechanoids are basically sparkless knock-offs of Cybertronians, right? Well, Ratchet Junior, get some spare parts and fix me!" Whirl rebutted with jovial ease.
First Aid spluttered at being called 'Ratchet Junior', it was high praise from Whirl, if a bit backhanded in delivery. "W-w-well I suppose I could..." he mumbled in response.
"It's not actually a bad plan," Raf commented, thinking the situation over. "First Aid, I know a lot about Transmechaniod technology – I could help you repair Whirl."
"So we're actually going with this?" Jack asked, looking among the leaders present.
Bumblebee turned and looked over his shoulder at Cyclonus. "Are you in?"
Cylonus looked back, determination in his eyes. The opportunity to rescue Tailgate and punish his kidnapper? He could tolerate Whirl. He could tolerate two Whirls. Mentally, he made no guarantees that Sixshot would be coming back in one piece. Not if he had the chance to do what was necessary – what was right – and get rid of the danger the multichanger presented to everyone. "I will do it," he agreed with a nod of his head.
"That's the spirit!" Whirl cheered. "You and me, sneaking in like a couple of Wreckers, killing for the greater good! I'll be just like ol' times!"
"I am not a Wrecker," Cyclonus firmly reminded Whirl.
"I'm coming too," Bumblebee announced. He caught looks of surprise from the other Autobots, disappointment in Whirl and Cyclonus, and concern on the face of Jack, Fowler and Raf. He held up his hands to shoulder level, asking in a gesture for the chance to explain. "I know, I know, I have a familiar profile – but I've changed colors to escape detection before, and I can scan a new Earth mode."
"Sir, with all do respect, you are the Prime, and you are too valuable to lose fighting Sixshot," Ultra Magnus countered.
"That never stopped Optimus," Bee said firmly. "I need to go. Sixshot is a handful, he's my responsibility and we're bringing him home alive for trial. No offense, Whirl."
Whirl leaned back in his 'chair' and put his arms behind his head. "None taken. I am a dangerously unpredictable sociopath after all." It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or honest.
"I will accompany you then," Ultra Magnus said, rising from his chair.
"No," Bee denied. "I need you here to help First Aid and Raf. If something goes wrong you are the only Bot strong enough to deal with Sixshot one-on-one, and if worst comes to worse... you know the plan."
Ultra Magnus sank back down into his chair. If worse came to worse, he would have to take on the whole of Autobot command. It wasn't something he relished, but there were few other options, and he chafed to think of what would become of the Autobots, or all of Cybertron, under Prowl's leadership. "I understand, sir."
Bumblebee turned to face Fowler, Jack and Raf. "Looks like things are settled on my end. Is humanity willing to play ball with us on this?"
Is humanity willing to play ball with us, Jack thought. Not are you willing to play ball. He couldn't help but notice the cool distance those words put between Autobot and Section E. Years ago they were as tightly knit as family. Now emergency measures and negotiation tables were the only times they spoke.
"If we can keep it hush-hush, it's worth a shot," Fowler agreed. He looked to the red and white, face-plated medic. "First Aid, was it? You tell me what we need to fix One-Eye over there, and we'll get it for you."
"I will ignore your lack of sensitivity to my condition," Whirl curtly added, mock-offended.
"A pity the rest of you is not so easily ignored," Cyclonus muttered, folding his hands in front of him as Whirl reclined along his back.
First Aid shook his head at the exchange, turning his attention to Fowler with a nod of affirmation. "Thank you, Colonel Fowler. I'm ready to work as soon as possible."
"Can we put him into stasis lock now, then?" Cyclonus asked hopefully.
Fowler smiled to himself. Just like old times, he thought. I just wish it were as easy to help them now as it was then.
"I guess this means Section E is active again," Jack said, looking between Fowler and Raf. "And if Section E is active again, we need to contact the third member of our team."
"I'll put out the official order. I don't think I could survive the next family get together if I didn't," Fowler chuckled to his adopted son. Raf's eyes were locked on Bumblebee, who grinned at the thought of working with his closest human friend once more.
Just like old times indeed.