Chapter 72
-0-Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting the next day
"And that is why we have to send someone to represent us. I agree with General Morshower that this would be a good idea, a chance for us to show people who and what we are without it going through other people's filters." Prime finished, then looked around the table for comment.
He got it.
Ironhide listened to Prime as he explained the conference call the night before, realizing that the senior diplomat in their midst was Ratchet.
Ratchet had deduced that a bit earlier and was already formulating arguments in a subroutine of his processor.
Ironhide didn't have to process anything. He had his argument already formulated.
"No."
They all looked at Ironhide who was sitting forward to look at everyone with menace. He leaned on his elbows and looked like a big evil Kewpie doll. He glared at Prime, at Prowl, at the rest of them and finally Ratchet. "No."
-0-At the firing range
They worked together in pairs taking their turns on the range as they honed their skills. Sitting on the patio of their brand new barracks, the mercs watched without making a spectacle. They made their comments to each other but not loud enough to be noticed by the seven Autobots that were firing.
Or so they thought.
Of course, they didn't know that if an ant burped in Pittsburgh they could hear it in Diego Garcia.
Hound watched as Bluestreak slaughtered targets with a supernatural accuracy. He also listened to the mercs. They were talking about the Autobot's personal side again, speculating in a way that disgusted him. He wondered if they ever talked about anything else. "Those slaggers are talking about our personal lives again. I wonder if they have one the way they fixate on us," he said walking to the firing line for a turn.
"Who'd 'face them?" Trailbreaker asked as he moved to the side to allow Hound access to targets. "Have you ever heard how they 'face? It's gross."
"It's all they ever talk about," Sideswipe said as he held Blue's rifle while the gunner retrieved his tool kit. "I guess they aren't getting any the way they go on."
"You aren't, either," Bluestreak said, grinning at Sideswipe as he took back his rifle.
"Five more decaorns," Sideswipe said with a look of ultimate satisfaction. "Five more decaorns and you'll know the magnificence that's known as Sideswipe."
Groans and catcalls met that statement as they turned back to the range to shoot. Behind them with cameras in hand, the mercs took contraband pictures of the Autobots, pictures that were forbidden to be taken or removed once they left the island.
-0-Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting
"No."
"But..."
"No."
"Ironhide..."
"No."
-0-Half a joor later
They walked past the barracks as a group. The mercs watched them while the Autobots ignored them but for Sideswipe who rolled slowly past sheathing and unsheathing his swords as he fixed them with an expression of extreme menace.
When they had passed, Lawrence looked at Todd. "I hate that fucker in particular. He looks insane."
"He's one of those Lamborghini twins. I think he and that white and black one have a thing going on," Todd said as he sipped his drink.
"Makes you wonder how they do it," Lawrence said. "I could make a zillion dollars if I could catch them fucking or whatever they do that's the same thing."
"You'd be playing with your life," Todd said.
"I'm going to try," Lawrence said leaning back to relax in the sun. "I'm gonna get the pictures, sell them and not have to do a damned days work for the rest of my life."
"Did you post those pictures on First-Strike?" Todd asked as he lit a cigarette.
"I did. They didn't stay up long. They almost disappeared right away. But the ones I sent were also going to Beau Weaver's office. I think they might've gone through. I hope so, at least," he said.
-0-After the Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting
He followed Ratchet into Med Bay with metaphorical smoke coming out of his audials. Walking behind Ratchet, he followed him into his office and shut the door. "You can't go to Washington, D.C. and speak to this fraggin' committee."
"Optimus can't go. I think you'd be more accommodating to your son since you beat the slag out of him the other day," Ratchet said pulling a data pad from a stack then breezing past Ironhide to walk down the corridor to the lab.
"Oh, funny, Ratchet. Ha-ha," Ironhide said. He looked at Ratchet with his head down and neck bowed. He looked like an enraged freight train. "You can't be among these people. You have a sparkling and you're almost halfway to separation. What if someone hurts you or the sparkling?"
"I have you coming along and he did say that Jazz and Sideswipe are coming, too."
"I don't like it," Ironhide said obstinately.
Ratchet looked at him as he smiled slightly. "Did you know you turn me on when you get like this?"
Ironhide wavered only slightly. "Well, if you ever want a piece of my pie again, Ratchet, you'll tell Prime that you can't go because its too dangerous for the sparkling."
Ratchet stared at Ironhide, deciding reverse psychology might be fun. "Then you admit it."
"What?" he said moving to stand in Ratchet's line of sight.
"That you can't protect me and the sparkling. That you haven't got the steps, the power, the bad ass-ness to do the job."
Ironhide stared at Ratchet, at the cunning devious center of his existence then smirked. "Nice try. But I know about reverse psychology."
"You've been in my data pads again," Ratchet said.
"Damned right," Ironhide said smirking slightly himself. "Self protection."
Ratchet chuckled. This could get fun. Ironhide was upping his game.
-0-Ops Center
Red Alert intercepted the pictures sent to First-Strike-Warriors before they were barely warm on the server. The other recipients were intercepted, too, but the ones sent to the office of Senator Beau Weaver were there long enough to be downloaded along with other data at the same time. Red sent a kill bot to the file and it was destroyed on the server and all the networked computers but the iPhone of Weaver's Chief of Staff was outside Red's reach.
This time.
-0-The tarmac outside
They rolled out of Sky Dive heading toward the hangar. Transforming along the way, Jazz, Mirage, Hound, Bumblebee and Smokescreen walked toward the hangar and home beyond.
Sky Dive transformed then waited for his brother and boon companion to join him. When Silverbolt did, they walked together toward their space, an unused piece of flat land that fronted along the beach just over the base fence near the firing range.
Walking across the tarmac, moving slowly and with great dignity Silverbolt and Sky Dive strolled. They were catching up as they walked, ignoring diversions as they talked, diversions like the mercs.
Walking past the merc's barracks, ignoring them as they did, they stepped over the fence and continued onward toward a flat piece of land that was close to the water giving a sense of privacy the base didn't have. Trees and bushes surrounded it giving sense of privacy that the hangar district didn't have. The Aerialbots when on Diego had claimed it for their own.
The mercs watched the behemoths go past shaking their heads at the surreal quality of the sight. Lawrence made sure he had his pictures and he would send them that night.
And Red Alert attuned to his prime sending times would be there to delete them before they reached the outside world.
-0-In Love's Bosom™
"I don't like this idea."
"I have to do my duty."
"Ratchet."
"Ironhide."
It was silent a moment.
"Kiss me, you big oaf."
"You're not going, Ratchet and bringing up The Sexy won't change my mind."
"Really? Since when?"
"Indubitably."
Ratchet smiled at him with his servos on his hips. "You're such a big femme. Of course I'm going and you are, too."
"I don't want you sitting in front of a bunch of hostile slaggers shooting their yaps off slaggin' ya."
"That's why you're coming, Ironhide. You get to face plant them if they get out of line."
"Prime would have my ball bearings."
Ratchet grinned as he handed over a rifle, a box of ammunition and a sack of grenades. "You put this crap in your locker in the armory. We can't have our sweet little sparkling playing with grenades. What will the neighbors think?"
Ironhide followed Ratchet with amusement as he moved to another corner to sort through Ironhide's accumulated slag. "You can't change the subject. That's against the rules."
"What will you do?" Ratchet said handing Ironhide two more rifles. "Spank me?"
Ironhide smiled slightly. "Might be fun."
"Probably is, but I don't think it's in keeping with my status as an Ambassador and all around yellow aft fragger."
"You have a point," Ironhide said as two more rifles, a sack of cartridges and his spare munitions cleaning kit joined the pile in his arms. "Ratchet, I can't see. No more."
"That's only two corners, Ironhide. That doesn't count that corner, under and behind the couch, the shelf up there with the knives … knives, Ironhide. What if they fell off?"
"I'll get them," Ironhide said as he began to totter to the door. "Point me toward the armory, you slagger. I can't see a fraggin' thing."
Ratchet smirked then showed him out, pointing toward the armory three stories below. He staggered in that direction as Ratchet chuckled. "You big old fragger, you." Then he went back inside and did more cleaning as only a good 'brooder' would.
-0-General Morshower on the Senatorial Committee meeting later on
Ratchet and Prime listened to the conversation, discussing the meeting which would take place in Washington, D.C. in three days with Morshower over the communications channel they maintained at a highly secured level of transmission. The agenda wasn't set but they were warned to be prepared for anything.
Senator Weaver of Texas was a hothead who'd be trouble. There were three of his allies on the committee and the rest were either Autobot supporters or Senators that didn't openly dislike them.
The meeting would be held in a space that would accommodate Ratchet's size because it was agreed that Ratchet would transform from vehicle to robotic mode and do it in public. There was so much disinformation out there, much of it from the talking heads of radio and television, that almost no one could really understand what sort of aliens Autobots and Decepticons were.
Ironhide, Jazz and Sideswipe would be coming and they'd be shined, buffed and low key. Protection and nothing more would be their brief. Prime would be involved in the meeting through direct internal comm linkage with Ratchet. All in all, everything was covered. All they needed to do was get on Silverbolt, do the committee meeting, answer questions and come home.
The conference call ended so Ratchet, Ironhide and Prime walked back to the hangar. On the way, they formalized a list of off limits topics. Personal information about anyone in particular was off limits. No one would be there to give permission and Prime would not permit it anyway. Mystery was a good thing in moderation.
Any deep discussions about their religion or religious views, sexual/reproductive information and sparklings was taboo and permission was granted to use that as the reason they were not going to discuss it.
The Allspark and his family were to be off limits. Discretion was given to Ratchet to decide what to do but by the time they reached the hangar they had a good working list.
Ironhide had a good low grade processor burn.