A/N: Boy did this chapter take a while to write! Now please allow me to brief you guys before we get in too deep. This chapter does have some graphic violence and torture—you have been warned! Also, for all intents and purposes, I have kept Frenzy alive and based him on his G1 form, mainly because I'm the author and I can do that! XD! A lot will happen in this chapter, so once the ball starts rolling try to keep up. Any hazy issues will be clarified in the next couple of chapters. Things have just taken a drastic twist for better or for worse! Please enjoy!
Chapter 17: The Discovery of Vector Sigma
During the events of the Boneyard…
The first thing that Dezba noticed was how chilly the air felt. It hugged her skin in an icy embrace and sent tiny shivers crawling across her dark-skinned body. The young woman hugged her knees to her chest in an effort to stem the goosebumps rising across her frame. Her right shoulder ached in protest at the movement; she slid her left hand over the sleeve, pulling the fabric up and away to reveal the cause of the painful throbbing. A large, angry bruise darkened the top of her arm, no doubt the result of the syringe used to keep her sedated. Speaking of which…
Where am I? shethought to herself. Her hazel eyes darted around the room trying to take in every detail to garner any clues. The room was a flat gun-metal grey color and appeared to have metal walls. The floor was slick concrete which helped to explain why her body felt so chilled. She seemed to be positioned in the room's far left corner; in the center stood a small table with two chairs. On the table sat a small pitcher of water as well as a glass. Her body was lying parallel to what appeared to be a large mirror which ran the length of the room. Directly across from her head, a very plain metal door provided the only entrance/exit to the room. By all appearances it seemed she was being held in some sort of interrogation room, at least it looked that way according to all the Law & Order episodes she used to watch with her mother.
The chills were slowly subsiding and Dezba gingerly pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. Using the wall as a brace she wobbly stood to her feet. The room began to spin rapidly and before she could stop herself she began a fit of dry heaving. At that time, the door creaked open and a tall figure stepped through the opening. Dezba slowly raised her head; tangled locks of raven-colored hair stuck to her brow as sweat slowly dripped from her cheekbones. She drew an arm across her mouth to wipe away some spittle and glared hatefully at the man who had ruined her life.
"Good to see you're finally awake," Miller said amiably, tossing a manila folder onto the table and closing the door behind him. His icy blue eyes regarded her hunched form with amusement. "You may call me Miller, if you wish."
Dezba placed her hands on her knees in an effort to regain her equilibrium and quell her tumultuous stomach. The fact that she had barely eaten in the past 48 hours did not speak well for her health. She felt weak and light-headed and struggled to focus on Miller's hazy form.
"What the hell do you want, asshole?" she asked, voice filled with venom.
"Tsk. Tsk. Such language is unbecoming of a fine young lady such as yourself," Miller scolded lightly. His eyes flashed with arrogance and a sickening leer split his lips. He had finally succeeded in capturing the girl from the Decepticons and he wanted to savor every minute of this victory.
"As if you would know how to treat a lady," she retorted. "Tell me something, do you drug every woman you meet or only the ones you want killed?"
Miller shook his head, the smile never fading. "I admit that we did get off on the wrong foot, my dear. A…uh…miscommunication in the chain of command, I assure you. Would you please accept my humble apologies on behalf of Sector Seven?" he asked, a honeyed tone in his voice. He stepped close to one of the chairs and sat down, motioning for Dezba to do likewise.
She ignored his friendly gesture and spat, "Do I look stupid to you!? You had my stepfather arrested, you had my mother arrested and probably murdered. Oh, and you also ordered two sleazebags to rape and kill me, and you expect me to forgive you!? Go. To. Hell!" Dezba's breath was coming in quick gasps now that her tirade was just beginning. She placed one hand against the wall to steady herself. Anger filled her body with new vitality, but she still felt a little on the weak side.
Instantly, "Miller" dropped his nice-guy façade. His face contorted with anger and his blue eyes seethed like a boiling kettle. He leaped to his feet, slamming the chair to the ground. In less than two strides he was on top of the girl, grabbing her harshly by the front of her shirt. With his left hand he backhanded her viciously causing her head to snap to one side. An angry welt sprang across her cheek.
To her credit, Dezba did not even gasp. Her anger was too strong. She glared scornfully into Miller's face; she would not give this man the satisfaction of seeing her fearful a third time. Quite unexpectedly, she spat in Miller's face!
With an angry roar, the Sector Seven agent threw the girl to ground and wiped his face. Dezba hit the concrete on her bad arm, the barely-knitted bone sending sharp, spiking pains of protest through her body. Before she could regain her footing on her own, she felt Miller clasp onto shoulder and haul her to her feet. He slammed her into a chair, nearly toppling her in the process, before picking his own chair up off the floor and sat facing her. Then, quite abruptly, his angry scowl quickly changed into a manic laugh, an evil spine-shivering laugh that was supposed to belong on the silver-screen, not real life.
As Dezba listened to Miller's laughter, she tried to focus her thoughts on Thundercracker. She knew he was searching for her; she had felt his presence briefly when she had woken in the SUV. "Thundercracker, where are you?!" she thought desperately as she warily watched Miller.
"We're coming," his reply came clipped and brief.
She could feel a mixture of emotions permeate their link—anger and worry being the strongest. However, before she could continue her internal conversation, Miller drew her concentration once again. He stood up and placed his hands flat on the table and leaned in close towards her. His handsome face was twisted into a sinister sneer as he stared into her hazel depths.
"You've got guts, kid, I'll give you that, but first let's start this conversation over, shall we?" he said softly. "Dezba, do you even know why you and your family were arrested?"
The abrupt change in tactics threw her off-guard. Cautiously she answered the question. "No."
"Do you know why the Decepticons have kept you alive while in their keep?"
Her face hardened into a scowl. This jerk couldn't possibly know what she went through while with the Decepticons. "What are you talking about?" she said defensively, trying to steer the conversation away from anything having to do with her aforementioned keepers.
"You know, I'm really surprised your mother never told you her little secret before she died. Oh, well. Can't change the past now, can we?" He began to walk around the room, slowly circling his prisoner like a shark circling a wounded fish.
"My mother has never kept anything from me," Dezba replied heatedly.
"Oh, but she has my dear, she has," he whispered in her ear as he walked past. He stopped at the head of the table once again and leveled her with a firm stare. "You see, Anaba Richards possessed a gift, Dezba, a gift that I strongly feel has been passed onto you."
The raven-haired girl paled upon hearing that last statement, the mysterious human figure's words echoing in her brain. You have a great gift, She-Who-Goes-To-War. Her pallid features did not go unnoticed by Miller.
"Your mother began having strange, recurring dreams of a metallic planet--and on this planet she saw many different alien beings, very similar to those here on Earth. For months the dreams continued, lasting longer and growing more realistic." He paused briefly before continuing, gauging Dezba's reaction to what he had said so far—the results pleased him. The girl merely stared at him blankly, her face a pasty white. "Then one night, your mother had a dream so realistic, it woke her from her sleep. Now in this dream, she saw the strange metal planet that I assume is where our alien friends are from, but this image stood out to her above all others mainly because something spoke to her. In all her previous dreams, all she saw were images, but this…this was totally different. I believe she described it as a very bright ball of bluish-light. But that wasn't necessarily what frightened your mother; it was what that glowing orb said as to what frightened your mother so." He paused once again and strode about the room, hands clasped behind his back. "You see Dezba, in your mother's dream, the glowing orb declared itself as the rejuvenator of its planet—the ultimate source of life on that planet. You've heard of the AllSpark?" he asked, glancing sharply in her direction.
Dezba's thoughts wheeled back to one of her first deep conversations with Thundercracker. He had told her a little of their war and the power struggle for the AllSpark. She nodded her head feebly.
His grin widened. "Good. Well, as it turns out in your mother's dream, the AllSpark was not the ultimate source of life on Cybertron."
Dezba's face furrowed in confusion. "Why are you telling me all this? How do you know all this?"
"Patience my dear, patience," he said, touching her lightly on the shoulder. In response, she jerked away forcefully. "As I was saying, the AllSpark was in fact, not the ultimate source of life for our alien friends. There is another more powerful force that the inhabitants of that world have long forgotten—and the name of that source is Vector Sigma."
"Now then, Vector Sigma is the true-blue original life spring for our Autobot and Decepticon friends. When the AllSpark was destroyed here on Earth, it reawakened Vector Sigma. I know this because your mother's dreams correspond within a period of time after the AllSpark's destruction and even more importantly, it told your mother this. It also told your mother of how the AllSpark was created, its purpose for creation, yatta, yatta, etcetera, etcetera. I didn't concern myself with knowing those pathetic details; I found them rather irrelevant. Anyways, as it turns out my dear Dezba, your mother was the roadmap for finding Vector Sigma. It's a shame she casted her life away so carelessly. I hope you will not make that same mistake."
Miller stopped his pacing once more to come and stand before Dezba again. He placed his hands palms down on the table and glared into Dezba's eyes. He was a ticking time bomb waiting for detonation. Dezba could see the lust for power in his eyes. They were cold, merciless and had just a hint of desperation laced within their depths. In many ways, she would have preferred a stare-down with Starscream than face Miller as he was now. A desperate man was a dangerous man.
Within her mind, things were quickly falling into place. Her dreams, her hidden knowledge of the Cybertronian dialect…it was slowly beginning to make sense now. If Miller was hinting at what she thought he was then her situation just took a turn for the worse. More words echoed from her strange mental visitor. You are the key to this race's future.
"So you believe I have my mother's capabilities then?" she questioned directly. She crossed her arms over her chest to show her "skepticism."
"Oh, I not only think, girl, I know," Miller answered with a sneer. "My organization has done a little digging into your history and come to find out," he paused for emphasis, "several of your family members have been committed to asylums for their erratic mental images. Granted, none of them mentioned Vector Sigma, but they still bore witness to several alien events. These dreams have been passed down directly through your mother's lineage and guess what," he smiled sinisterly, inches from her face, "you're next in line," he whispered.
Dezba leaned back and turned her head in an attempt to put some space between her and Miller. So now she knew. The Decepticons had sensed some sort of valuable power within her and had kept her alive in order to try to figure out what it was. Unfortunately, it seemed as if this creep and his goons had figured it out first. The good news was she didn't think this asshole had a clue about her mind link with a certain Decepticon and that was definitely to her advantage. "So what? How can you be so sure? And why should I care about this Vector Sigma?"
"Because, Dezba Collins, if my theory is correct and I'm fairly certain it is, you are going to be the one to lead us to Vector Sigma. We witnessed the raw power behind the AllSpark; imagine just how much more powerful the original source will be! And those ignorant walking garbage heaps don't even know it's there!"
"You're insane! We can barely make it to the moon and back, much less a frickin' planet who knows how many light years away. There's no way you can do it and even if you could I will follow my mother to the grave before I lift a finger to help you," she hissed.
He moved so quickly she never had a chance to react. Another backhand blow whipped across her face, sending her sailing out of the chair. She slid across the concrete and stopped against the far wall. Miller was upon her like hawk; he lifted her up by her hair then slammed her against the wall, his hand increasing its vice-like grip across her throat. She gargled and gasped in vain efforts to breathe; her fists beat upon his chest and arms uselessly. The fact was she was just too weak to fight back.
"You listen to me, you little bitch! From now on, you will do exactly as I say. I know that somewhere deep down in that pathetic mind of yours you know the way to Vector Sigma and if I have to beat you to within an inch of your life to get your cooperation, so be it," Miller growled.
With that he threw the girl to the floor and quickly followed up with a kick to the ribs. It was the desert nightmare all over again. The memories of that horrible night flashed through her mind with each painful hit and brutal kick. When Miller was certain she couldn't lift a finger to fight back, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and clasped her hands behind her back. He took a second set of cuffs and clasped her feet together. Satisfied with his handiwork, he sneered down upon the girl before turning and leaving the room.
Dezba did not know how long he was gone, nor did she really care. Her body screamed in agony and she was quite certain her ribs and her arm were re-broken. Dark, purple bruises were flowering across her face, arms and legs. The only thing that wasn't marred was her will to defy Miller.
Presently, he returned and what he carried in hand was not a welcoming sight. In his arms the S7 agent held a portable butane torch as well as a container of salt. She cringed inwardly—he was planning on torturing her.
"Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice."
"Damn you!"
Miller shrugged his shoulders. "Have it your way." With a firm yank he ripped her shirt off, exposing her stomach, bruised ribs and bare chest. He fired up the torch and began to bring it near to her flesh.
Dezba bit her lip in anticipation for the pain, but when it came all she could do was scream in agony. The sound of sizzling skin and the smell of burning flesh permeated the air. Nausea and intense pain overwhelmed her mind. The session lasted 30 grueling minutes. With each hot blast of the torch, Miller rubbed salt into the burn. He would then ask if she was willing to cooperate. Each time he received the same answer—a variation on "go to hell", "damn you", or "f*** you." Suddenly, Miller's cell phone beeped shrilly, temporarily competing with the girl's screams. He cut the torch off angrily and yanked to the phone to his ear.
"What!?" he barked. There was a brief period of silence in which Miller's countenance changed from furious to one of pure shock.
"I'll be there immediately!" He snapped the phone closed and glared back down on the girl. He looked almost disappointed to stop his carnal act. "I'm going to let you lay here and think about your options. When I return, your mind had better been changed!" Seeing as how she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, Miller uncuffed his prisoner and stormed out the door. Dezba continued to lie on the floor, sobbing in pain. Several dozen second and third degree burns dotted her body. The blackened holes seeped small streamlets of blood that crisscrossed her body like tiny red ribbons. They began to pool on the floor next her, mingling with tears of hurt and fear. Every movement, every breath sent rivers of pain coursing through her body. Take that coupled with the beating received earlier and it was a wonder how the girl was still conscious. She hurt almost as badly as when Soundwave wracked her mind, but at least Thundercracker had been able to help her overcome that ordeal; she didn't know if he would be able to help this time.
Then as if her thoughts had reached out to him, his deep, rumbling voice filled her head.
"Dezba, are you still functional?! What in the Pit just happened?! I feel as if someone has taken a plasma torch to my circuits!"
He could feel her pain as well? That was a new development. "I'm…fine for now," she replied weakly. "The asshole who tried to kill me…he torched me…I don't know…if I can…"
Thundercracker quickly interjected. "We're almost to your location. I can sense your presence getting stronger. You will make it, human!" His last phrase almost sounded more like a command than encouragement. "I'm going to try something."
She barely acknowledged his words. Unconsciousness was slowly creeping into her mind like a black, roiling fog covering a bayou. As she was about to let go of the last tendrils of awareness, Dezba began to feel a warm, tingling sensation flow through her. It slowly began to increase in intensity, raising her awareness and even dulling the intense pain to more tolerable levels. It almost felt like coming in from a cold day outside and then sitting by the fireplace to warm up. "What's happening to me?" she asked mentally.
"Since we can share emotions and thoughts, I thought it would be worth a try to see if we could share each other's strength as well. It looks as if it's working."
"But won't that…weaken you?"
"I can feel the difference, but it is marginal. My strength should help you to escape once we arrive."
"When will that…be?"
"In less than one cycle—less than an hour by your standards. Be prepared to flee quickly. Whoever put you through this much pain will experience it tenfold when I get my claws on them!"
"But I'm locked in an interrogation room. I can't get out on my own," she objected.
"We will have a plan in place. Just be ready." With that the link faded out. She could still feel his strength and energy coursing through her body. By this time, it had dulled the painful burns to a small throb. It gave her a warm tingling feeling just like after drinking a shot of whiskey or a glass of rum. She felt revitalized, much stronger than before she had been beaten. Although this new influx of vitality was temporary, she was deeply thankful for the reprieve and for his presence. Savoring the lull in the pain, Dezba waited patiently for Thundercracker's arrival; her breaths slow and deep. One cheek rested against the cool, smooth surface of the concrete floor, dark locks of hair covered the rest of her face. Her sobs had eased to gentle hiccups. Even as her fresh new wounds burned her physically on the outside, nothing could compare to the deep, burning fire searing her heart as she thought of Thundercracker's words of revenge. Before, she had never been a person to wish ill on anyone, but after this? For the first time she could recall she absolutely hated another human being and she wished with all her heart that the massive Decepticon would follow through on his threat and that she could be there to witness the spectacle.
Present time…
Thundercracker and the other Decepticons were burning rubber and igniting afterburners, making a beeline straight for Miller's base of operations. While enroute, Starscream had tried to give the blue jet the ninth degree about revealing too much information to the Autobots, but the dusty-colored Raptor would have had better success reprimanding a brick wall. Starscream's reprimand went in one audio and straight out the other. When he realized that the indigo flyer hadn't even acknowledged a word he had said thus far, he snarled loudly in irritation and thumped the blue jet's wingtip with his own.
"What's it going to take for me to get through that thick, titanium helm of yours!?" he cried in exasperation.
Thundercracker did not respond. He was totally focused on Dezba's mental signature. It was the same force that had drawn him to her prison cell that first night they had discovered the mental connection. At this point in time his only concern was to find her, get her back into Decepticon custody and demolish anything or anyone that got in his way. But first, they needed to develop a strategy for when they did find her.
"We need to develop a plan of action for when we get there," he announced suddenly, catching Starscream by surprise.
The Decepticon leader quickly recovered, however, and demanded, "Did you not listen to word I just said?!"
"No, sure didn't," Thundercracker replied matter-of-factly.
Starscream growled loudly at his second's lack of respect. Then again it was nothing new to him; he had known Thundercracker since the very beginning. When he had been inducted into the Decepticon ranks, the burly flyer became quite well-renowned for his belligerence towards other Cons as well as superiors. It was one reason why Megatron had kept the Seeker close and at that time, put him under Starscream's command. Megatron had figured that at the most, both Starscream and Thundercracker would kill each other vying for superiority, or at the very least Starscream would be preoccupied keeping the blue jet in line. But as it turned out, neither occurred—reason being: Skywarp. Skywarp was assigned to Starscream's command to complete the trine a few hundred orns after Thundercracker came into the picture. Almost instantaneously the energetic teleport took it upon himself to befriend the blue Seeker. Starscream felt that Skywarp's efforts to socialize with TC came more from the fact that the teleport derived great pleasure in annoying the blue flyer, than it being any true desire to be "friends." But regardless of the method, the outcome had surprising results. Eventually, Skywarp broke through the indigo mech's social defenses and eased him into a more manageable frame of mind; millennia of annoying TC until his circuits fritzed had finally paid off. As a result and under Starscream's firm leadership, the trio became the deadliest aerial force Cybertron had ever seen. Over those many eons Starscream had come to respect Thundercracker's obstinate and abrasive ways, despite his blue subordinate's dark past and questionable loyalties. Quite often it was easier to just let the blue jet have his way or talk to Skywarp to have him calm him down. Since Thundercracker was such a highly aggressive, yet brooding mech, it had taken Starscream by surprise that the cobalt flyer had taken such a protective role over the human girl even with their unique link, but once again given TC's history, it could be considered a logical action.
Before Starscream could mull over anymore thoughts, Thundercracker's voice loudly interrupted. "So what's the plan for when we find these earth germs?"
'Speak of the devil' as the humans would say, Starscream thought sourly. "Let's see," Starscream wondered out loud, "According to Soundwave's data that he so 'eloquently' collected for us, the human by the name of Miller is located in Denver at this time. Now, this also corresponds with your tracking signal, am I correct?"
"Yes."
"It's an exceptionally heavy populated area; I don't want to draw attention to ourselves and chances are these humans know or will soon know of our arrival. However, they seem to have not been able to detect our holograms."
"Are you planning another covert operation, Screamer?"Thundercracker asked, doubt tingeing his voice.
"Perhaps. And who better to aide us in this field than Soundwave and his minions? Unless you have better idea. We were lucky in Arizona. We caught Sector Seven off guard and in preparations of fleeing. I don't think we'll be as lucky again." Starscream replied.
Thundercracker pondered over Starscream's words. His wingmate was right. They had been lucky, but they had also been thrown off track. The Boneyard was a base of operations for S7; it wasn't the main base they had hoped to destroy in one fell swoop. What would make Denver any different? At least this time he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dezba was there. The bond between them had grown in intensity and strength. He could now sense her from great distances as well as sense any degree of emotion she was experiencing. He vaguely wondered what had triggered the bond to increase, but quickly decided that matter could be pondered at a later date. Twice now he had contacted her, once to assure her of their arrival and again when a blinding heat seemed to have ripped through his inner circuits. It hadn't been enough to make him loose control of his flight path, but it had been painful enough to make him growl and snarl in agitation. He was quickly growing tired of Starscream's desire to attack from the shadows, his darker, inner demons screamed to be unleashed in a flurry of vengeance, but his logic processors indicated that secrecy was the best way to get ahead of these meatsacks.
"Fine. Just so long as I am the one that gets the privilege of meeting Sector Seven Agent Miller," Thundercracker conceded, rumbling his thrusters angrily as he mentioned Miller's name.
Starscream chuckled at his trinemate's eagerness for destruction; perhaps he wasn't slipping as much as he previously thought. "Attention all Decepticons!" he announced over all the com links and very quickly all the other Cons were briefed on the next stage of attack.
Miller rushed into the command center looking more than a little flustered. "Where are they!?" he demanded to the room. Several dozen technicians were busily pecking away at their keyboards, while others rushed hastily about to and fro one consol to another. One tech lifted his earphones and approached the angry Sector Seven SIC.
"They're less than one half hour from our location, sir," the sandy-haired tech ventured cautiously.
"How many?" Miller barked as he hastily turned to study a projectable map of Denver and her surrounding countryside. Four red blips were moving much more quickly than the three others farther south. The four must be the aerial-based NBEs.
"Seven, sir," the tech confirmed as he re-seated himself at his computer at the front of the darkened room. "Wait! I lost them! They…they…they just disappeared off my screen!"
"What!?" Miller furiously turned and regarded the projector image again. Sure enough, the seven red dots that had been there seconds prior were no longer seen. How in the hell…
"Agent Miller, sir! I've just received intel that Agent Richards has been killed and the Boneyard completely destroyed!" another voice called over the din.
A ripple of nervous voices followed that announcement and the level of anxiety within the command center seemed to palpably rise.
"Enough!" Miller shouted angrily. "I want security around this building doubled immediately! Sheridan, take your staff and prepare the fleet for a quick departure! Sanderson! You and I will fetch the brat! Everyone else, pack it down and execute Code Red procedures. Now!"
Instantly, the small command center burst into a flurry of activity. Papers rustled and keys clicked at a maddening pace as all the underlings struggled to shutdown their systems and erase all relevant data. There was not much time.
Another man quickly joined Miller at the front of the command center. Miller gave the man a quick, condescending once-over then said, "Let's go!"
Swiftly both men navigated the winding office-like corridors of the S7 Denver base, dodging other agents who were anxious to make a speedy escape. Finally, the two men arrived at a solid steel door that comprised one of several interrogation rooms of the base. With deft accuracy, Miller punched in the code to open the door and slammed it open, Sanderson following on his heels. The young woman appeared to have not moved at all since Miller had left some time earlier. Her head was buried in her arms and dried, crimson patches of blood dotted the grey concrete around her body. She didn't so much as flinch at their presence—in fact, she appeared to be unconscious. Good. It'll make this job so much easier, Miller mused to himself. As Miller stepped closer and prepared to yank the girl up by her shoulder, he was caught totally by surprise in the flurry of action that ensued. With the speed of a striking viper, Dezba lashed her left arm out and to the side, catching Miller firmly in the ankle and sweeping the agent off his feet. He landed with a painful grunt on his side, an angry animal-like cry escaping his lips as he tried to lunge for the struggling girl.
Dezba kicked madly at Miller's face, landing a few solid blows to the man's handsome features. Bright flecks of scarlet sprayed the air as she heard a satisfying crunch when her right heel connected firmly with Miller's chiseled nose. He screamed in pain and held his bleeding face with both hands, trying to stem the flow. She crab-walked as fast as she could away from the furious operative and attempted to climb to her feet. The fresh burns across her chest and torso were still raw and angry, but due in part to Thundercracker's energy, she was able to ignore the pain and concentrate on making her escape. The klaxons blaring in the hallway had alerted her that something was definitely wrong, so she planned accordingly. However, she hadn't counted on a second agent being present and blocking her attempted getaway. She glared at Sanderson with bright, greenish eyes, tendrils of blood-matted hair adding to her wild and desperate air.
"For one who has been through so much, you show an extraordinary amount of resolve," the stranger said smoothly, not at all disturbed by the events that had just taken place.
"Let. Me. Go." Dezba hissed. Her shoulders were hunched forward in a defensive posture and she balanced her weight on the balls of her feet, preparing herself for flight. A burst of motion drew her attention from Sanderson for a split second. A fist appeared in her peripheral vision, but Dezba had only enough time to partially block the oncoming blow. It grazed across her left cheek, leaving a nasty cut; the force of the hit sending her staggering back into the wall.
"Bitch!" Miller spat venomously, blood still streaming from his broken nose. "I should just go ahead and kill you like I killed your mother! You were both more trouble than you're worth!"
The crazed agent made as if to lunge for the girl again, but a voice as cold as ice stopped him dead in his tracks. "COBRA Commander would not take it kindly if you screwed up again Miller. I would stop right where you are if I were you."
Miller whirled around to face the strange voice. Sanderson still stood in the doorway, but this time had a gun pointed directly at the S7 operative's chest. Miller paled, but still found his voice to speak, "Sanderson? What is the meaning of this?"
Sanderson smiled easily, a smile that quite frankly belied everything about his demeanor. Then, a startling transformation occurred, shocking both the girl and Miller. Sanderson's skin flickered like a bad TV picture before slowly changing to a slightly deeper, tanned brown. His blonde hair flickered as well then began to lengthen until it dropped down to shoulder length in long sorrel locks. Even his clothing seemed to change right before their eyes. The crisp business suit worn by most high-ranking S7 agents seemed to be instantaneously replaced by a long, black trench coat, black BDU pants and combat boots. But the most striking feature change of this human chameleon was his eyes. Large black patches covered his eyes in an-almost mask-like covering giving the stranger a sinister and dangerous air. A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he read the shock registering across Miller and Dezba's faces.
"Why, you folks look like you've seen a ghost. Ever heard of holographic projections?" His question was met with more blank, wide-eyed stares. "Guess not."
Finally, Miller found his voice and cautiously stepped forward towards the imposing figure. "Zartan!? I had no…What the hell…What is the meaning of this?" Miller sputtered angrily, tripping over his words like a kid with his shoe laces tied.
"After all your previous screw-ups, Miller, COBRA Commander decided to send me in to keep an eye on things and to make sure you wouldn't mess up again. Congratulations," he said, mockery dripping from his voice, "you've finally managed to capture the girl, without killing her I might add, so now your job is finished. I'll be taking things from here."
Before Miller could utter a syllable of protest, Zartan flicked his wrist and shot the S7 SIC straight through the heart. Dezba cried out in shock as the lifeless body collapsed to the floor, a bright blossom of scarlet quickly pooling on Miller's clothing and upon the floor. She averted her eyes from the grisly sight and stared in horror at Zartan. So much had just happened in such a short period of time, she didn't know if her brain would be able to comprehend it all.
Zartan made a noise as if clearing his throat and motioned with the pistol for her to move. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, the girl numbly stepped around Miller's body and approached Zartan's figure. "That's a good, girl, Dezba," he crooned into her ear as he took her by the elbow and directed her back out into the maddening corridors. No one seemed to have heard the silent shot that took Miller's life and when Dezba turned her head to look at Zartan, his features had reverted back into the calm, complacent Mr. Sanderson. The interrogation door clicked softly behind them, securely hiding one more dark secret. Quickly and silently the two figures made their way down the corridors heading for an exit. No questions asked, no curious looks were cast. "Thundercracker, where are you!?" she pleaded silently, as the grip on her elbow tightened.
Unlike the Boneyard, which had more or less been located in the middle of nowhere, S7 Denver Base was located right smack dab in the middle of downtown Denver. It was a low squat, flat-roofed office complex that gave no indication of being anything but that. The tree-lined front street gave the building a shady, yet friendly appearance even as several "office workers" hurriedly made their exodus from the glass sliding doors and out into the street. Several large vehicles would stop and pick up passengers before quickly re-entering the traffic flow and disappearing from sight. As the Decepticons expected, the humans were well aware of their imminent presence and were in full force making arrangements to abandon the facility. The good news was, according to Thundercracker, Dezba was still deep within building.
Soaring high above the city, energy signatures cloaked by a certain F-117, the three fighter jets circled and re-circled the city. None of the city's citizens paid any particular attention; military fly-bys were a common happening, that and the three jets were quite high for anyone without a pair of binoculars to make out the two distinctly different models and three drastic colors that comprised the trine.
At street level, a police interceptor idly surveyed the scurrying humans that were exiting the front of the building, checking to ensure no known faces slipped into the crowd unseen. On opposite sides of the structure, one black Viper kept watch on the side exit and one white Viper carefully guarded the other. Circling higher than any of the others, Soundwave ensured all the Decepticon's energy signatures were shielded from man and mech alike. He carefully scanned the building far below him and hacked into several Top Secret files at once to gain access to the buildings blueprints as well as its access codes. Next, the communications expert relayed his data back to groundside where two young, good-looking holograms were exiting the white Viper. They looked almost identical with the exception of their hair color and style. One had bright, fire-red hair that was smoothed back across his scalp; the other had a short-spiked, dusty-colored crew cut. Both "men" were slightly taller than average, but could still blend in well with the S7 crowd.
Although all Decepticons had hologram projectors that could operate at significant distances from their bodies, only those Decepticons highly trained in espionage and sabotage (such as Soundwave's minions) could project solid holograms over their bodies and blend into the world around without leaving their mechanized bodies at a distance. As such, this mission purely belonged to Rumble and Frenzy. Quickly and quietly, the two mini-bots stole into the crowd and disappeared into the building. Using Soundwave's data to navigate the winding corridors, Rumble and Frenzy brusquely pushed past escaping agents.
Where the slag is she!? Rumble demanded over his com to Soundwave, pushing another frightened human from his path. It was taking all of the mini-bot's patience to not haul off and crush some facial matter in light of the humans' panicky nature.
Above the city, Soundwave was soon joined by Thundercracker. Flying wingtip to wingtip, the two jets began to quickly coordinate the interior attack—Thundercracker guiding Soundwave by using his mental link with the girl and Soundwave relaying the directions to his two creations. It wasn't long before Rumble and Frenzy caught the shadowy figure of "Sanderson" disappearing around a corner, Dezba in tow.
Bingo! That's more like it! Rumble said jovially while giving Frenzy a light punch to the shoulder. They quickly sprinted down the hallway, intent on catching the fleeing humans. As they rounded another corner, they caught another glimpse of the human male holding the girl. An evil snarl crossed his features; quickly he raised the pistol and fired several shots in Rumble and Frenzy's direction. The bullets pinged harmlessly against the hologram and continued to ricochet down the hall. A look of shock replaced the man's snarling rage. Rumble and Frenzy, seeing as how the gig was up, quickly deactivated their holograms revealing their true forms.
"Give us the girl, meatsack!" Frenzy yelled threateningly.
"Yeah, hand her over and we might be able to convince the others to let you live!" Rumble added, taking a menacing step forward.
"You two walking tincans do not scare me," Zartan replied. "You want her this badly," he said, holding the struggling girl up by her twisted elbow, "come and get her!" He whirled out of sight, Dezba's desperate screams following them down the corridor. As he dashed into a fire escape, Zartan pulled a small communications device from a hidden pocket. He pressed a tiny button on its side and watched with satisfaction as small yellow light began to blip intermittently.
"You just wait," Dezba growled between gasps of pain, "When the Decepticons catch up with you, you'll be lucky if they leave a grease smear as a marker to your grave!"
Zartan gave her an almost pitiful look, before yanking her up the stairwell. "I hardly think that will happen anytime soon, my dear." He gave her a harsh stare before placing two fingers directly behind her neck. She kicked and squirmed in a desperate attempt to wriggle out of his grip, but Thundercracker's added strength could only go so far. The pressure behind her scalp increased and then suddenly she found herself once again slipping into darkness. A loud clang followed by several heavy metallic footsteps echoed from several levels below the COBRA mercenary. Slinging the girl into a fireman's carry he continued up the stairs until he reached the fire exit. With a sharp kick, the door flew open and he stepped out into the sunshine. Almost immediately he was confronted by three large, heavily-muscled men, one being a police officer. The two men flanking the officer's side were ironically twins as well—one had solid black hair with two white streaks highlighting the sides, and the other had solid white hair with black streaks in the exact same area. All three stood a good six or seven inches over six feet and had searing brownish-red eyes. Zartan knew exactly who they were. "Back off alien scum!" the COBRA operative snarled in anger.
"Give us the female, germ!" Barricade growled with equal vehemence.
Suddenly a new voice called over the fray. "Hey you three! Step away from the boss!" The three Decepticons turned to see three more humans approaching them from behind. Each carried a weapon that resembled a rifle, all pointed directly at the three holoforms.
"Ripper! Torch! Buzzer! About time you idiots showed up! Take care of our friends will you?" Zartan called cheerily, as he tried to snake his way pass the Cons. Runabout saw their target try to escape and made a grab for him. Suddenly, he stiffened as if stabbed; his reddish eyes growing wide with surprise as he stared into Zartan's smirking face. Runabout then glanced downward and saw a long, spherical piece of metal wedged deep into the hologram; it crackled with electricity as it slowly began to fizzle the Con's image. Zartan's smirk widened, "Call it a remote EMP Circuit Disruptor. It's able to disrupt your ionic flow and essentially overload your circuits resulting in temporary paralysis, whether hologram or robot. Don't think S7 has been the only organization to study your biology. Destro is quite the scholar when it comes to studying alien technology and ways to counter it."
Zartan watched as the hologram slowly grayed out then fizzled out of existence all together. The other Cons were never given a chance to react as they too were shot with strange dart-like Circuit Disruptors. They each fell to their knees, power quickly failing to their holograms as well as their main systems. The strange device was forcing them into an emergency stasis lock. With one last snarl of rage, Barricade's hologram faded away, his threat dying in the wind. Zartan then turned and regarded his men. "Two more are coming up the fire escape. Deal with them. I don't know what they flyboys are waiting for, but keep an eye on them as well."
Ripper nodded his head and loaded another dart into the rifle. "Done."
Adjusting the girl's weight, Zartan then quickly made his way down the backside of the S7 building and into an alleyway where his vehicle was parked. As he passed a darkened doorway, another figure moved quickly to follow him. Too late, Zartan tried to dodge the sledgehammer blow to his shoulder. With a grunt he collapsed to the filthy alleyway floor. Dezba tumbled from his shoulder and lay limply to the side, a low moan escaping her lips. As Zartan tried to turn and face his attacker, he felt a sharp jab at the back of his neck. With a feeble struggle the mercenary quickly succumbed to the rapid sedative. Without missing a beat, the mysterious new figure quickly tied Zartan's hands and feet as well as gagged him. He stripped the operative of as many weapons as he could find and stored them in his own coat for further examination later. Next, the stranger then gathered the girl into his arms. Dezba's head lolled against his shoulder, leaving small dark smears of blood against the artificial fabric. She groaned again and made as if to try and push him away.
"Shhhh," a voice soothed. "You're going to be all right, now. Just hang with me." He didn't know if she understood him, but his voice seemed to quiet her feeble struggles. The man darted down an adjacent alley and quickly came upon a vehicle parked not a block from the S7 base building. Opening the door and sliding the passenger seat forward, he gently laid the semi-unconscious girl in the backseat before fading from existence. The door closed of its own accord and the powerful V8 engine rumbled to life. It slowly pulled out into the traffic pattern, its crisp yellow and black paint job flashing against the sunlight.
High above the city of Denver, Starscream and his trine continued to circle the area. The plan had started off well enough, but had quickly disintegrated into chaos. Rumble and Frenzy had found the girl but she wasn't with Miller, in fact his biological signature was not even in existence. The two casseticons had then followed this new human until they had him cornered between Barricade, Runabout and Runamuck. At that point things certainly looked as if they would be getting the girl back and without drawing any unnecessary attention by other humans. But then the plan literally fell to pieces as Starscream watched his best ground troops fall and sink into stasis lock, allowing the human to make an escape. To his knowledge, no known human weapons could knock a Cybertronian into stasis lock as instantaneously as those he just saw used. It was then Starscream realized their human foe was much more dangerous than he originally thought.
To compound matters worse, Thundercracker had worked himself into a blind rage. He had been cheated of his vengeance on Miller and now was forced to watch Dezba slowly slip away into the shadows again. It had taken the combined efforts of both Starscream and Skywarp to hold the enraged jet back to keep from blowing their cover. At this point, Starscream normally would not have cared to begin to obliterate the city, but the chance of the girl sustaining damage was much too great, that coupled with another belated turn of events changed his mind rather quickly.
Just when the dusty-colored Seeker thought the girl would disappear from his scanners again, a most unexpected savior swooped in to do his and Thundercracker's dirty work for them—the Pit-spawned Autobot scout. Taking the human kidnapper by surprise, the young scout had quite violently knocked him out and took the girl to his alt form. So, all was not lost. With the girl in Autobot custody it would only be a matter of following the scout to the Autobot's base and negotiating with Prime, as well as making sure no more pesky S7 operatives got the same idea.
Turning to his enraged trinemate, Starscream explained his reasoning to Thundercracker with instructions to follow, but not to engage the scout.
"I don't like it, Starscream," Thundercracker protested. "She's there for the taking. Why not let me just take her now and be done with it?"
"Because, I feel that there is much more to this situation than any of us first thought and even as Optimus believes we are withholding information from him, so I believe that the Prime is doing likewise."
Thundercracker grunted angrily, "I still don't like it. She's been through enough as it is. I'm surprised she's still functional!"
"I don't care whether you like it or not!" Starscream snapped. "Your pet needs medical attention. Attention that I cannot provide! You can still track her, so just ensure she makes it to the Autobot base safely. Do not engage the scout; if more of these Pit-spawned S7 germs attack, then engage. After you see her safely to the base, standby to await my arrival."
"And just where will you be in the meantime?" the blue Seeker growled menacingly.
Starscream turned to him, red optics flashing like sparks. "In case you haven't noticed, TC, we have five soldiers currently in emergency stasis lock. The last thing I need to happen at this point is for those pathetic insects to capture them as they did Megatron. Soundwave and I will try to wake them before they are discovered. Now you and Skywarp get going!"
Giving his commanding officer a scathing glare of his own, Thundercracker transformed back into his F-15 alt mode and rocketed off in the same direction the Autobot had taken, Skywarp close on his thrusters. Starscream watched them disappear into the distance, a deep disturbance unsettling his spark. Perhaps it was time to talk to Prime and determine just what in the Pit was going on here.
A/N: Please push the button! You know you want to!
