What? Almost 100 visitors have found my story? You can cue my excited squealing right now.
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Transformers: The Eye of Icarus
Chapter Five: Guardian
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Another great figure I know once told me how fate rarely calls upon us at our moment of choosing.
Chicago. She hadn't been to the Windy City since the incident three years ago, nor did she ever see herself ever wanting to go back. She hadn't experienced any kind of anxiety or flashbacks since receiving psychological help about the time she had been discharged from the hospital. What this man was doing was dredging the bottom of her memory pool to bring those memories back to the surface. Her throat was dry when she tried to swallow. It took her moment to get her thoughts in some semblance of working order. Her reeling mind was going on the defensive now. Protect her from the damaging memories from .
"What makes you think that?" She snapped back at him. He sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Well, I can't go into exact details, but let's use your medical record. You lost your right eye," she stiffened, "and your father was the one who ordered the prosthetic. Now, what doesn't make sense is how he ordered one, but that eye is in your purse."
She was silent, arms crossed and head looking down at the table to try and keep herself calm.
"Miss Sullivan, what you have is something that can help with our national security. If you refuse to help us, then you will become a threat to national security with that same object. I'm asking kindly to hand over what you have before force is used."
"You can search my purse, but the only thing you'll find is a wallet, makeup, eye patches, and tampons." She retorted, crossing her legs.
"Being stubborn will not help you win this discussion." He explained.
"Well, Congress is doing the exact same thing and look how they're doing."
He leaned over the table to her. "Don't try and change the subject, miss. You are in no position to discuss your own terms. Stop trying to be snarky."
"Then what do you want?" She growled, straightening in her seat.
"You and I both know that your eye isn't human-made. You will hand over the eye to me, the United States government. If not, I am not afraid to keep you here until you are at reasonable speaking terms with up." His voice lowered to a dangerous tone.
She didn't respond. Her head was spinning.
"Will you hand it over to me?" He asked, exasperated.
"I- I would need a bathroom. And I would need one of the patches for my eye in my purse." It was finally sinking in that maybe she didn't have anything to back up her claims with. The man seemed relieved at her sudden cooperation and his mood seemed to lighten. "That can be arranged. It was good working with you." He stood up and left the room, Grant following behind, leaving her to her own devices.
Oh boy... her eye. They already knew about it! She knew she had to work with them; otherwise she would get nowhere. They were the government, and rhey knew best, right? But how was she going to get the eye out? She only found out how to get it in by accident, and she was unconscious when it implanted itself. How was she going to get it out now?
The door opened, and Grant was standing right outside. "Come on."
She nervously stood up and he led her to the bathroom with the three others. She stood at the door and he handed her one of her medical patches for her eye. "Um, thanks."
She walked inside and walked to the sink and washed her hands, hoping the water would make them think she was doing something. She looked at herself in her mirror. The eye was perfect. She could feel that it more like a real eye. There was no way she could just pop it out like her prosthetic. There had to be some way!
"One minute." Grant knocked on the door.
She panicked. Come on: think of something Gloria! She chided herself. It's a machine thing, right? Maybe- In a desperate bid, she opened her lids wide and pushed the middle of her iris. She felt nothing at first, and she wondered if it wouldn't come out. The vision left her right eye. She watched, some horror and fascination, as she heard the eye whirr and click and simply fall out into her free hand.
"Shit!" Blood started to run down her cheek from her eye, and she dropped the eye into the sink. The soldier walked in to watch her wash off her face and quickly stuff the gauze and put on the eye patch over her eye. She stopped the water and meekly smiled. "Done."
She was forced to give the eye to him and led back into the room. He said nothing to her and left her to her own devices. She touched her eye patch, suddenly missing her eye. But was it really a threat to national security like the man had implied? She sighed and rested her head on her arms on the table. Now she just had to wait to be released... hopefully.
…..
She had no way to monitor how much time passed. She was bored, sure, but she had nothing to do. And she was getting hungry. Couldn't they get her something to eat? Or at least let her have her phone? This was starting to suck more than before. She couldn't even fall asleep! Damnit. At least it didn't feel like it was six yet, so at least her aunt wasn't calling the police to look for her. Yet.
The door slammed open, starting her from her seat. The man who had interviewed her was standing there, agitated. "You are coming with me." He was flustered and walked out from the door before she could respond to his question. She stood up and walked after him, trying to catch up. Had something happened? She knew better than to ask though with how he was acting. "Keep in mind," he reminded her as they headed down the hall, "everything you're about to see and have experienced is top secret. You do not breathe a word of this, understand?" He stopped at a door and looked at her.
"Yes, sir."
"Good, you're a smart girl." He pulled out his card and held it in front of the door. It beeped, letting them in. He ushered her in through metal catwalks and railings and into a large hanger. Below her, she could see soldiers busying themselves on the ground floor, voices floating up to their lofted positions in the catwalk. They didn't pay attention to the sound of their feet clanging on metal while they continued to work on… soldier things? She wasn't too informed with military operations. They looked like they were working on and truck and a car that definitely weren't military issued, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. Maybe it was better just to not to ask questions. Walking down the stairs, she was led to a central area where she saw the eye in a small tray on a table. They approached it and he pointed to the seat in front of it for her to sit down at. She briefly glanced at the eye, a strange ache in the pit of her stomach. The man hovered over her as several soldiers kept at attention around them. "How does it work?" He asked, silent.
"What-" He cut her off.
"I asked you a question. Answer it."
"I really don't know either."
"But you can put it in?" He asked.
"Yes, I-"
"Good. Do it."
"Now?"
He looked at her again, silent. That was a yes.
Trying to relieve her dry throat, she swallowed. She pulled the patch off, laying the bloody gauze on top of it. Picking up the metal ball, she stroked it gently, the cool metal giving some comfort. Sighing, she rolled it so the button was looking at her. She stroked it around the perimeter of the black.
Nothing happened.
"If this is some kind of-" he began impatiently, but stopped short. The outside of the black button glowed blue. Coming the life, the small, sharp insect legs emerged and dug into her skin. It seemed distracted and was examining the area around it. "Make it quick." She mumbled.
The ball immediately scurried up her arm and towards her face. She braced, but suddenly the thing was picked up. She turned, seeing it being thrown into a glass box by a soldier. The creature screeched, sharp legs digging into the glass. She saw a bolt of electricity and the thing was thrown to the ground of its container. "What do you think you're doing to it!" She demanded, standing up and roughly shoved down to her seat by a soldier beside her.
"Security measures, Miss Sullivan. I told you before, it's for the safety of our country." The suited man said, watching them take the box away. She could hear it scrapping its legs against the glass and continue its protest.
"It's mine though! Give it back! It isn't something you can just zap on your own whim like a rat in an experiment!" She protested, but was held down in her seat by the solider again.
"Not anymore, Miss Sullivan. It is now the property of the United States Government. You may have it back one day, but not today. Until then, we can do whatever we want to it." He looked at the solider to his left and nodded. The soldier stepped away from the group and radioed something in. She wanted to spit at this man. "Miss Sullivan, we do appreciate your working with us. As a means of thanks, here's what you'll get from us. Until we know what that eye is, you will be watched." She was grabbed by the arm and pulled out of her seat, dragged to the end of the hanger.
"We'll contact you when we have more information, and we will give you a phone that can reach me, but only contact me if there is an emergency. Don't worry; you'll hardly notice us there. If you don't tell anyone what happened, am I clear? We do not exist."
He stopped at the end of the hanger and turned. Before him was a silver car. "As an apology for the treatment, here's a car from us. Temporary, of course, until we contact you about the eye."
She looked at the car then him. She laughed.
"What?" The man demanded.
"You think you can placate me with a nice car? You disgust me."
"I assure it, this is procedure." He handed her the keys to the car and the black phone. She took both of them, suspicious of the gifts she was receiving.
"I'm glad we could work this issue out, Miss Sullivan." He offered his hand. She looked at him for a moment in confusion, but took it.
Suddenly he was locking something on her wrist. "Is this a joke?" She demanded, unable to pull away from his death grip. "I'm not a criminal! I don't need a tracking bracelet!" He leaned into her face, too close for comfort.
"As far as I am concerned, until we figure out that that thing is, you're just as bad as those machines that destroyed Chicago." She looked away, face pale. Her hand was cold in his grip. After a moment, he let go. "Now, that also will serve as a secondary key. It will unlock when you get within five feet of the car. They'll escort you out." She said nothing as he walked away. But she hated to not be the person with the last word.
"Goodbye, Donovan."
He immediately turned to watch her get in and turn on the engine, roaring in anticipation. The hanger was opened and a military jeep drove out, followed by her. He watched the car disappear out of sight and went back to walking. Whatever that eye was, it was dangerous. If it could let her find out his name, then what else could it do?
Annnnnd done! Finally, an Autobot appears. Well, in his alt-mode, but an Autobot nonetheless. The real fun begins next chapter along with copious amounts of paranoia on Gloria's end. I can so mean to my characters.
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