Chapter 5

"How do you think the kid's doing?" Firefly asked loudly in an attempt to be heard over the roar of the helicopter's engines. Destro didn't answer, instead showing a rare moment of compassion for another human being as he placed a pillow behind Carly's head. It had been bouncing against the cold, hard insides for several minutes. Luckily for her, she was still unconscious but she'd feel the pain upon waking up. "Careful Destro," Firefly remarked with a sly grin. "You don't want to make the Baroness jealous, do you?"

"Shut up!" Destro barked. He quickly retracted the emotion he had been displaying and focused his thoughts. "When will we arrive at our destination?" He leaned forward, towards the cockpit, and waited for the answer.

"About an hour," Copperhead replied. They were heading to an undisclosed armory in Washington State. Once there, they would refuel and go over any intelligence reports that had come through the wires during their mission. Carly would be placed on a bus and sent home, signalling an end to her nightmarish ordeal. Of course, this was all in theory only. If Miles Mayhem was able to withstand the surprise attack and turn back the intervention attempt, it wouldn't matter when they would arrive at the armory. It wouldn't matter what, if any, intelligence reports had been received. And it sure as hell wouldn't matter if Carly made it home in one piece.

They'd all be dead in a matter of days anyway.

While the A-Team held their own despite being greatly outnumbered, Spike and Sparkplug made their way into the Ark via their own special entrance. "Chamber 4B is just down that corridor," Spike said. "Come on."

Sparkplug followed close behind his son. "Ol' Hannibal is giving these guys more than they can handle," he said with a smile. "Everything is going to be okay, son."

With each step they took, they could feel their heart-rate quicken. Pounding like sledgehammers on concrete. Sweat poured from their brows as they quietly made their way to the proper Chamber. The chaos that was happening outside had nearly emptied the entire Ark. The handful of guards who remained inside were so concerned with the battle outside, that they didn't notice the father and son duo sneaking around. Finally, Spike and his father made it to Chamber 4B. To their surprise, the door wasn't sealed off as they had expected. Spike reasoned it was so the guards could come and go as needed without delay. He wasn't complaining- it made his job of getting inside easier. As they walked into view of the Transformers, Spike couldn't believe what his eyes found.

The Transformers weren't chopped up into little bits, as both humans had feared. They weren't blown away or covered with rust. Instead, they were lined shoulder to shoulder-lifeless. It was still creepy, as even Sparkplug let out a shiver or two. It was like walking into a room and seeing all of your best friends asleep and not being able to wake them up. It was a horrible sensation.

Sparkplug studied the wires and hoses connected to each of the Transformers. Following their trail, he was able to spot what must have been the main power switch. It was several feet off the ground, located at a rather inconvenient angle. Pointing it out to Spike, he stated there was no way his old body could reach it, so it was up to him. "Hurry son," Sparkplug told him. "Flip that switch!"

Spike nodded and began a careful, yet speedy climb over computer panels and recessed view-screens. As the panel became within reach, he caught an image of something out from the corner of his eye. It was Megatron, lifeless and silent like all the others. "There you are," Spike said, hate thick in his voice. "How does it feel to be dead, you waste of metal!"

Megatron's eyes didn't move, but Spike could feel them burning a hole through his chest. "I want you to know something, Megatron," Spike continued. "I know you can hear me. I want you to remember this day- this is the day that I, Spike Witwicky... a lowly fleshing, a disgusting squishy... saved your life." Spike's tone was growing more and more confident. "But you know what, the only reason I'm doing this is so the innocent don't die with you. Optimus Prime and the Autobots don't deserve to share the same fate as you. The only thing keeping me from letting you rot is my friendship with them." Spike placed both hands on the lever, and prepared to pull it. "You'll get yours soon enough, Megatron. It just won't happen today."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice roared from the background. Spike took his hand off the switch and turned around, trying to catch a glimpse of the stranger. "Step away from the lever, brat!"

"You!" Spike yelled, realizing that the stranger wasn't a stranger at all, but actually the general he had seen at the Air Base. He threw his arms up and scanned the carnage Miles had created. "Are you mad?"

Miles smiled at the young boy. Vanessa wasn't with him; he had sent her away to a safer place. "Mad?" Miles shrugged. "Perhaps," he admitted. Sparkplug had been sneaking up behind the General while Spike distracted him, with hopes of tackling the crazed maniac and subduing him until the proper authorities could take him into custody. It would prove to be the father's last act of bravery. "But I'm also the man with the gun," Miles added, turning around in a flash and firing several shots into Sparkplug's chest. A look of shock came across the mechanic's face as he dropped to his knees from the pain, with his off-white shirt quickly turning a deadly shade of crimson.

Spike ran over towards his fallen father, tears rapidly swelling in his eyes. He cradled him in his arms, as blood stained both of their shirts. "Dad," Spike wept. "Dad, are you okay?"

"Such emotional dribble," Miles said. "You have no idea what's going on here, boy. No idea! I've worked too long and too hard for a foolish boy and his obese father to get in my way."

Spike didn't hear a word Miles was saying. His eyes were locked onto his father, who was lying in his arms and dying.

The A-Team was beginning to exhaust their ammunition. Hannibal reached for his walkie-talkie, keeping a constant eye on the enemy forces. "Spike," he called. "How's it going in there, kid? We're running low on ammunition."

Miles walked over and grabbed Spike's walkie-talkie; Spike didn't even flinch. His thoughts were with his father. "It would seem the game has changed," Miles announced.

Hannibal shot a look of concern over his shoulder to Murdock. "Identify yourself," he yelled back.

"Who I am is not important," Miles stated. "I have the boy and his dying father in here with me," he continued. "Call off this attack, or the boy dies too."

With no other alternatives, Hannibal gave the one order he'd never given before. "All right, boys," he forced himself to say. "Pull back."

B.A. reached down to his side and grabbed his walkie-talkie in shock. He couldn't believe what he had heard. "Hannibal! Are you crazy?"

"I said pull back!" Hannibal yelled. "Pull back now, dammit!" Moments later, what was once a battle ground became eerily silent. "Okay," Hannibal called out to Miles. "We've done what you said to do. Now, let the boy and his father go. Let'em walk out, and we're outta here. Everybody can just go home and we'll finish our game some other day."

Miles let his ego take control, and began to pace in a cocky manner. "I'm afraid not," he sighed. He turned his back on Spike and began to walk up and down the corridor; his gun resting snugly in his left hand.

While Miles continued to waste time by talking to Hannibal, Spike felt his father's life slowly slipping away. Blood had now completely covered Sparkplug's shirt, and his breathing was getting lighter. A delicate stream of red flowed from the corner of his mouth. "Son," Sparkplug strained to speak, his tone all but a whisper. "I want you to know I'm proud of you..."

Tears flowed down Spike's face. "Shhhh," he begged, "Save your strength, dad. We'll get you to a hospital and..."

Sparkplug shook his head. "No time," he said, followed by violent coughs. "Listen to me," he said. Tears were now falling from his eyes as well. "You can do this, son... you can still... pull this off... you hear me?"

"I hear you, dad," Spike cried. "I hear you..."

"Son," Sparkplug whispered, "I'll always be with you." For a brief moment, all the pain and hurt lifted from his body, allowing him a final moment of clarity. With focused eyes and a strong voice, he spoke for the final time. "I love you."

Spike felt his father's body go limp in his arms. "No," Spike cried. "No." His voice grew louder. "No!" Angrier. "NO!!"

Miles quit pacing and turned around, having been startled by Spike's roar. He tossed the walkie-talkie down and began to walk towards Spike, who had his back to him as he still held his dead father. "Don't be too upset, boy," Miles stated coldly. "You'll be with him shortly."

"You killed my father," Spike said, getting to his feet and turning towards Miles. "You killed my father," he repeated, the words still feeling foreign in his mouth.

"Yes," Miles said. "And now I'm going to kill you."

A voice boomed from the chamber entrance. "Drop the gun, General!" Miles turned to see Hannibal standing there, aiming his pistol in his direction. "I said drop it!" Moments later, he was joined by the rest of the A-Team members.

Miles was at a loss for words. "How did you get in here?"

Hannibal locked eyes with the killer. "You talk too much, fatman. While you spread your own manure, we took out the rest of your hoodlums."

Spike was oblivious to everyone in the room except for Miles. They were in a world all of their own, as far as he was concerned, and now was the time for revenge. He exhaled an almost primal yell. A burning hatred and rage filled his veins, his eyes bloodshot from the anger. He charged with all his might and ran full force into Miles, knocking the gun from Miles' hand in the process. "You son of a bitch!" Spike yelled, his fists pounding away at Miles. "He's dead," he said. "He's dead!" Again and again. He repeated that phrase over and over. His blows were so strong, that his hands began to crack and bleed; mixing with Miles' own.

"That's enough," Hannibal said. Spike ignored his words, which forced him to walk over and pull Spike off of Miles himself. "I said that's enough." Hannibal understood the pain that Spike was feeling, but knew that killing Miles wasn't going to bring Sparkplug back.

Spike pulled away from Hannibal and stood still. He looked down at the bloodied and broken Miles. The tears hadn't stopped falling. Walking over towards the main switch, Spike tried to control his emotions. He tried to stop crying, to stop wanting to kill the bastard. He tried to breathe. Reaching up with both hands, he pulled the main lever. The mission was over. The Transformers slowly began to power-up.

Hannibal crept up behind Spike and turned him around. He looked into his eyes, and not only saw an angry and dangerous man; but he saw a terrified little boy. A little boy who had just watched his father die. Without saying a word, Hannibal pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him. For the next several minutes, the only sounds heard were those of two grown men weeping.

end of Chapter 5.