Chapter 88
-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia
Prowl stood by at the communications station listening to the audio of the mission that had gone to Oregon to close a window in their operation. He was profoundly annoyed but only a person well versed in his persona would know that. Door wings arched high, a coiled tension in his posture, he thought briefly of the source of his ire.
The mole was never off their radar now, followed either by optics or sensors day and night. Every single sneeze he made was logged and data miners were detailing every possible communications possibility that he could access.
He was their nemesis and Prowl was on guard. What truly ripped him happened earlier.
Spirit who was mustering the nerve to peer out of the hangar door had spotted a human passing by. Unattended for just a brief moment as Prowl checked off a datapad handed to him, he'd moved to the door to look out. The little mech had met optics with a human who had paused outside to smile at him, holding his gaze for a moment. Finally, fearfully, Spirit shifted back shyly into the building.
Prowl who had turned back to the youngling again noticed who the human Spirit was watching was. He was the mole who had made public knowledge of Spirit's presence among them, thereby raising the danger factor for his safety exponentially.
Quickly, Prowl had picked him up, retreating to the youngling room as fast as he could. It still rankled him greatly and he'd tell Optimus about it when the team came back with their prize. He had no doubts that they would. But he would hold the moment in abeyance, allowing the team to focus on the master even as he wanted to go to the apprentice and rend him limb from limb.
-0-A warehouse in Oregon
They stood in front of the box, arms pointed upward as the six gigantic monsters moved closer, their own weapons aimed back at them. Nast who was gasping for air in his fright stepped to the side pointing his gun at Hound. He fired, emptying his clip into Hound's chassis but the bullets bounced off to land here and there, some of them at Nast's feet, to gouge holes in the concrete.
No one spoke, the six pairs of blue optics watching as the humans milled around each other trying to find something to save them from what the Autobots knew they believed was a slow and horrible death. Finally, one of the hired guns tossed his weapon down and raised his hands, stepping forward uncertainly.
"I surrender! Don't shoot me!" he cried as a big hand reached down to grab him.
Jazz held him high, then gazed downward, bringing his weapon closer. "Drop your guns or I'll make sure you don't have a home to go to ever again."
The three looked at him and the others, then threw their guns down, the weapons skittering toward Ironhide. He picked them up and pinched them between his fingers, dropping them at the feet of the three men who looked at them with disbelief.
Jazz set the man he was holding down on the box, then picked up the others, placing them on the lid as well.
Optimus Prime who was watching without a word moved closer and knelt as he scrutinized them. He stared at them silently, allowing his anger and menacing affect to work its usual magic.
Nast who was gathering himself together cleared his dry throat as he swallowed hard. "I'm William Nast of Intel-Martin."
Optimus nodded, leaning even closer to Nast. "We know," he said, his deep baritone filled with darkness. "I am Optimus Prime."
Nast closed his eyes and exhaled, a soft keening sound coming from deep inside.
-0-Starscream
He huddled on the bluff nearby their ship, the crashed Nemesis no more comfortable than the stones and dirt he sat upon now. Nast had wanted Springer and Arcee even more than before and he'd decided to give them to him. He had to locate them so he leaned upon the mole, the treacherous human that was playing Nast and him off against one another.
Of course, the pitiful insect didn't know he was aware of that. The insect Daniels wasn't aware that his 'billionaire ideological' friend was a Decepticon either and he would use both of them to find his prey.
Starscream was an expert at such maneuvers.
He was also aware that Nast knew he, High Flyer had ties to the Decepticons. Starscream had dropped enough hints that the dolt finally got it. He knew that Nast found proximity to that much danger a drug. 'Danger junkies' the insects called that kind of personality. 'Useful idiot' was what Starscream called them.
He'd sent a message to the board, thereby getting word to the mole that he wanted the location of Arcee and Springer. He wanted them for Nast to seal the deal, to make him so tainted that he couldn't possibly give up on the gravy train or if caught, get a deal that could be less worse than facing Starscream's wrath.
His mind was still hazy and Springer, Optimus Prime's bond was still an obsession that wouldn't go away. He'd wanted to give Springer back with a present for Prime but giving him to Nast to be carved into bits and pieces wasn't a bad idea either. Both would be fine, the attainable one would be sufficient over the preferred one.
Thundercracker and Skywarp who were perched on a rocky outcropping nearby watched Starscream with concern, exchanging glances as they waited. His obsessions were becoming troublesome and the nearness to the truth each interface allowed was also troublesome. Their firewalls were being questioned and it was almost a relief that the obsession with Prime was so diverting. It kept Starscream that much farther than finding out the truth.
They dreaded the orn he did.
-0-Oregon
"What do you want?"
The question hung in silence as they stared at the Autobots who towered over them with expressions ranging from grim disgust to homicidal rage. One of them, a red bot with psychotic eyes rolled slowly in a circle, his eyes never leaving them as his sheathed and unsheathed his swords.
The blue and white one was standing to one side looking at them as if they were the lowest form of life he'd ever encountered. A smaller bot, a black visored one who had picked them up was beside him, his hand resting on the snob's shoulder. It was hard to see the face of the big monster before them, a solid black creature with enormous cannons and a head with spires like satanic horns topping it. His eyes could drop a charging bull with a single glance, Nast thought in a rare lucid moment.
The green bot, tall and stoic stood behind their leader, his optics fixed on the four even as he trained his weapons to follow their every movement. Their leader studied them, allowing them to stew in their juices, then he leaned forward again. "You have been a very, very bad boy, Mr. Nast. We have been following you since the beginning, watching your every move, your contacts with High Flyer, your treason."
Nast swallowed. "I … if you let me explain..."
"We shall," Optimus said, rising once again. "Back at Diego Garcia." He nodded to Jazz who moved toward them. The last thing Nast could remember seeing clearly was steel fingers reaching down to grasp him tightly.
-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia
Prowl commed confirmation back, then stepped away giving the conn to Ratchet who was sitting at Teletraan II. Walking out of the command center, turning left toward the officer's quarters corridor, he reached his own then opened the door quietly. Sitting on a chair reading a novel, First Aid glanced up. He nodded toward the over-sized berth where three little mechs were in recharge, a soft blanket covering them as they lay together with their arms around each other.
Prowl walked to them, leaning down to fuss with the blanket. He kissed Rambler's helm then turned toward First Aid. "They're coming back with the prisoners. I don't know when I can be back but I can have Blue relieve you, First Aid."
"I'm fine, Prowl. I don't mind." First Aid looked at the younglings, the first ones this small he'd ever seen in his life. "I enjoy them."
Prowl squeezed Aid's shoulder. "So do I," he said looking at them fondly. Then he nodded to First Aid and left the room to go back to Ops Center again.
-0-On the way
They'd bundled the prisoners into the box and loaded it onto Prime's trailer. Driving out slowly, leaving a few nanokliks apart, they drove back to the field outside of Ashland for pickup. Cosmos set down and they transformed, pulling the wooden box out of Prime's trailer. The big truck transformed himself then climbed aboard. Taking off slowly, Cosmos cleared the atmosphere to roar into a higher altitude that would allow him to drop into Diego Garcia without wasted time.
By the time he'd landed, a Black GMC pick up truck rolled out of Cosmos' hold with a tarp covering its bed. Optimus Prime, Hound, Mirage, Sideswipe and Jazz followed spread out over two breems and walked to the HQ as if it were any other day.
-0-Later on that morning
Graham and Epps were jogging to the obstacle course intending to work out before the heat settled in. They'd be going home for Christmas break, a period that would extend into January, a full thirty day leave. They would be on call, of course and their families knew that they would be. But they'd be together for Christmas and New Years, a bittersweet thing. They loved their comrades and enjoyed their company. Seeing in the New Years with the Autobots was a great occasion and they already missed it.
Jogging onward, prepared already for Cosmos to drop them off at Vandenburg Air Base so they could be home swifter and longer, they passed the HQ without a clue.
-0-Prime
He entered the command deck grinning at Prowl who rose and walked to him, both embracing each other. Prime who felt warmed from helm to ped got the executive version from Prowl. They walked toward the corridor door that led toward home after giving the command to Jazz who'd followed them in.
Jazz smiled at the sight of two of the most egregiously dedicated and self denying bots he'd ever known indulging in a little bit of PDA. It was cute.
Like seeing your 100 year old grandparents hugging each other.
He laughed then walked to the command table to sit and get caught up on the situation elsewhere.
Prime and Prowl walked to their quarters to enter quietly, nodding to First Aid who was working on his third novel by then. Pausing by the berth, Prime smiled down at the three little mechs who were cuddled together.
Prowl leaned against him, staring at the mechs with a soft expression.
Prime glanced at Prowl, then thought back to the bluff on Mars and the sad tale of Bluestreak.
Prowl had been traumatized by the fall of Praxus as had Ironhide but they seldom if ever talked about it. The horror of their city falling into ashes was something all the Autobots could recount. They all had the same story but not everyone had been back to their homes, sifting through the dead on familiar streets for anything at all that might live. Those that did seldom mentioned it, so traumatic and spark destroying were the images and sounds seen there. Prowl and Ironhide were no exceptions. That bit of terror they held in abeyance.
Seeing Bluestreak wandering, however, shocked and bleeding, frightened out of his own self awareness for some time after that had been severe. Bluestreak was his son now, the only known actual survivor of an attack of annihilation on an entire city once filled with life, learning, beauty and a thriving population. A smoldering crater in the ground translated to a smoldering memory in his mind, but Prowl had saved himself by saving Bluestreak. Now here with these three mechs he was doing it again.
Prime knew that they would raise the mechs, that Prowl would be as tireless and protective with them as he was with Bluestreak. It was fine with him. Someone had to take them in and give them hope and happiness once more. There were five more orphans at Autobot City that needed someone and he would have to make sure they got someone to love and care for them and their special condition. Having these mechs and the femme here would make that easier to do. The Autobots loved these little ones deeply.
He watched as Prowl took Rambler's servo and tucked it under the covering. Then together, they walked to the door to thank First Aid quietly and head back to the matters at hand once more.
-0-In the brig
They sat in separate cells, bars of energy preventing them from even thinking of escaping. Red Alert with weapon in hand sat on a bench in front of them, watching with only an intensity that he could provide. Inferno who was standing nearby with his weapon in full display followed Prime's orders.
"Scare them to death, Inferno."
Prime had said that to him and he'd nodded, only too glad to oblige. These were the turbo rats that were harassing the kids, marshaling the public against them everywhere they could and these were the fraggers that wanted to carve up Springer and Arcee.
Over his dead chassis, Inferno said to himself, his anger clearly displayed in all its horrifying glory. The two stood and sat by the wall watching the humans squirm as they awaited Prime once more.