Chapter 34
John Fulton who was base commander for Diego Garcia got the call at his office. He had been base commander for seven years when the Autobots came to be based here and felt as at home with them as he did any soldier he knew. They were consummate professionals, somewhat eccentric and all around brilliant. Optimus Prime was a genuine friend to John Fulton and he returned the love.
He hurried through the office heading toward the door where his aide, Captain Marco Gonzales waited. "What's going on?" he asked as they hurried through the door and to a waiting hummer.
"The mercs," Marco said. "I was just told that a specialized SUV drove at high speed into Ironhide as he was crossing the yard to go to the NEST hangar. They collided because Ironhide couldn't get away and its carnage."
Fulton slowed with surprise, then ran to the hummer to jump in. Gonzales did as well then they roared off to the Embassy.
The base was alive with interested individuals driving, riding bikes or running toward the Embassy. On a good day, those who weren't using the amenities of this, one of the most isolated places in the military, most could be found on the white sand beaches or at the perimeter of the Embassy watching the bots or if they were lucky riding around the town that facilitated life here inside a bot. Some of them, Jolt in particular, enjoyed jazzing around. The younger bots were sure bets for fun and games overall.
They screamed down the road, driving over crushed roads of white rock before spinning up onto the pavement of the base area just sort of the airfield where sagging wing tip to sagging wing tip sat the arsenal of the United States Air Force B-52 bombers. This was a top secret base that constituted an entire town for the 5,000 plus individuals who lived and worked here. Many were the civilians and military personnel who graced the place making it seem like a small town anywhere in the world.
The ocean fronted the atoll, one of 60 that were part of the complicated ecosystem here. This was a bird sanctuary and sea life refuge. Its delicate systems competed with the Navy who used this area for a refueling stop for its deep water access, something that allowed aircraft carriers and submarines to stop in and stay out on longer missions. There were gigantic ships stationed here as well filled with supplies and weapons against catastrophes and conflicts, some of which were longer and larger than the Empire State Building.
All of this was Fulton's command.
That and the bots.
They drove up to the edge of what seemed like a shooting situation. The bots were circled around a downed Ironhide. Springer knelt with him holding his head as Ratchet feverishly worked to halt his wounds which looked worse he hoped than they might be from the amount of energon on the ground.
Prime was there and he looked lit. Fulton had seen him in all manner of degrees. Prime was the consummate professional and a genuine gentleman, among the few that Fulton could actually point toward. He never pressed the issue in an emotional manner but listened and worked out what would be the best course of action for the moment. It was obvious to Fulton that Prime had been at this profession they shared beyond his ability to imagine.
John Fulton respected and loved Optimus Prime.
He turned to the emergency workers watching as they hurried to a hulk of an SUV with the jaws of life, a device that pried open crushed metal so that victims could be extracted, them or their bodily parts. He felt anxiety as he watched his teams work their magic. As he did he also watched the bots withdraw into their embassy and close the doors behind them.
This was going to be bad.