A/N: Well, here's the next chapter ya'll. If you can, please leave a review. Also if you have any suggestions drop me a line. ;)

Disclaimer: I still don't own Transformers; Hasbro does.

Chapter Two: Back to Square One

The young woman took a step back, but slipped on some loose dirt. She fell flat on her back; pain ripped through her body as she stifled a yell. For once in her life, speech had completely left her.

The robot's eyes narrowed as he waited for the human's reply. "I will not ask you again, fleshling. Where did you learn to speak Cybertronian?!"

"I…I don't know," she stammered. She struggled to put some space between herself and him. She vaguely thought that facing two murderous hitmen would be the end of her life, now she was beginning to rethink that little scenario.

Without warning a massive fist slammed into the ground a mere two feet from her figure. The earth cracked and split around her from the force of the blow. She screamed when the fist struck the earth, but instantly regretted it. White hot pain tore through her body leaving in its wake a dull throb. Every breath felt like inhaling fire.

"Do not attempt to deceive me, human or I will finish what the other two fleshbags begun."The creature's voice was as cold as ice, but his optics blazed with the fury of an inferno. He kept his hand on the ground next to her, palm down with fingers spread.

The young woman glanced sideways at the claws on his fingers; she cringed inwardly. This thing would never believe her. She honestly did not know where those strange words had come from or even what she had said. Whatever it was, it had certainly grabbed this thing's attention. Great, I probably cussed this guy out and didn't even realize it, she thought with irony. Maybe I should have paid more attention in French class.

"Look. I…really don't…know. I don't even…know what I…said, let…alone…where I learned…it from," she gasped. Every word was spoken with effort. The young woman didn't know how much longer she could maintain consciousness, the pain had become so intense. Perhaps death wouldn't be so bad. Please… if your gonna…kill me, just…do it!" Her dark green eyes smoldered with agony and…anger.

Those last words zapped her remaining strength. Her raven black head relaxed onto the ground then rolled to one side. She was unconscious.


Thundercracker glared at the still figure before him. Part of him wanted to fulfill the fleshling's desire. Another part of him needed to question the human further, but in order to do that she needed repaired, if only temporarily.

He closed his optics and tried to clear his processor. He reflected on just how he ended up in this situation to begin with. He had been flying over the Mojave Desert performing routine reconnaissance. He had been cruising along at high altitude, checking his scanners every so often for suspicious activity, namely Autobot activity. Normally, he wouldn't classify any human activity as suspicious, but a vehicle traveling in the middle of the desert where no road was present levied a closer look. Even though he despised humans and every other land-based creature, he decided to investigate if not just to alleviate the boredom of reconnaissance.

He had looped back around to follow the vehicle when he heard a human's scream. His keen Cybertronian hearing picked up the sound in the desert's stillness at least five miles away. But that wasn't all; immediately following the scream he distinctly heard the familiar chords of his native language. His scanners told him that only three humans and himself were in the immediate vicinity. Now his curiosity was really aroused. How in the name of Primus was a human speaking his language?

As he lowered altitude and closed in on the humans, he detected the hostility between the three. Now, his mission was clear: eliminate the threat to the human who had spoken Cybertronian. This anomaly would not be solved if someone else killed the femme first. Besides, the less fleshbags he had to deal with the better.

Now he stood over the human who had caught his interest in the first place, no closer to getting an answer than he was a few breems ago. He could only come to one conclusion: take the femme to Starscream and get his take on the situation.

He reached down to pick up the unconscious form; however, as soon as his fingers brushed her flesh Thundercracker felt an electric jolt rush through his processor. For the briefest nanosecond his mind felt clouded and disoriented. The big jet shook his head to clear his thoughts. That was strange, he thought. I'll need to mention that to Starscream as well. He placed the girl in his open cockpit. Then he leaped into the air, transformed and blasted off into the waning desert night.


Two lifeless bodies marred the pristine beauty of the desert dawn. Blood had trickled away from the carnage and formed tiny pools of red in the pockets of the pale stone. Unbeknownst to either Cybertronian or girl, a small, almost microscopic computer chip was imbedded into the neck of each body.

When the desert sun had just begun to rise, a helicopter touched down 30 yards from the empty car. The bodies were retrieved and all traces of any disturbance erased. As the helicopter lifted off, the abandoned vehicle burst into flames then exploded with such force that the percussion wave rocked the helicopter as it flew away. All that was left was a blackened circle, and minor pieces of twisted scrap metal. Anything that could have remotely identified the car had been removed or destroyed beyond recognition.

Inside the chopper, the same man that had tried to have the young woman murdered talked into a small hand-held radio. His ice blue eyes burned with smoldering fury.

"They've got the girl," he spat.

"What do you mean 'they've got the girl?' She was supposed to be dead by now, Miller," came the reply.

"It looks as if one of those Decepticons finished my boys before they could finish her."

"How can you be sure it was one of them?"

"Would fifty bullet holes from a .50 mm machine gun in each body plus some massive footprints convince you?" Sarcasm dripped from each of Miller's words. He had never failed a mission before. He knew he should have killed the girl himself instead of handing her over to those two morons. Oh well, at least his hands were clean so far.

"I see. At least if it had been the Autobots who stumbled on the scene we could have at least "negotiated" her return. I fear the Decepticons might be a little more distrustful of us, especially if they know her past history. But then again they might finish her off for us. They are a very volatile species."

"It's too much of a risk. Perhaps if we can trick the Autobots into doing our dirty work for us, and "rescue" the girl…" Miller trailed off.

"Yes, I see where you are going. I give you my authorization. Do whatever is necessary, just ensure that bitch dies before either side discovers her secret."

"Affirmative. Miller out." A cold gleam replaced the anger in his eyes. Perhaps he could redeem his reputation after all. And who knew? He might be in for a promotion if this thing went as planned.