Chapter 92
-0-Conference Room, Diego Garcia, Autobot HQ
"You'd criticize me? I live here. This is my planet. You don't belong here. If anyone's a freak its you."
The already cool temperature dropped considerably as Prowl leaned toward Nast. "Freak like us? You conduct business with anonymous billionaires, you kill your own civilians for money, you betray your country and you call us freaks?"
The softness of Prowl's voice did nothing to soften the blow of the words and as he sat back the impact was not lost on Nast. But he had nothing so he pressed on. "Prove it."
Jazz and Prowl glanced at Prime who nodded, his expression unchanged by the conversation. They rose to walk to the computer console nearby, then flipped on screens, pulling data up as they showed without any doubt whatsoever that Nast and Intel-Martin were not only dealing with Decepticons but had sold a 17% share of the company to the 'elusive billionaire ideologue'.
Holding the last card, the identity of the 'elusive billionaire ideologue' himself, they watched him hoping he would crack. Nast staring at the data, hearing his own voice on phone calls, reading his own emails and watching film of himself at locations where things were decided wrestled with his mind to keep his expression straight and unconcerned. But the icy fingers of fear gripped him and he knew he was done without a deal.
-0-The Cheerful Femmes™ of the United States Armed Forces
They got onto their bulletin board the day they'd put the Christmas tree up for the little kids, beginning their networking with their sisters at bases around the world.
To: Lissie, Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center, San Diego
From: Jessie Landon, Diego Garcia
Hey, Lissie. We have a favor to ask. Could you find the following items and get them shipped via Air Force to us before Christmas Day? We have children who won't have a Christmas without your help. :)
A pink bear
Silver ribbon
Three brown bears
All of the bears have to be enormous. At least four feet tall.
Footballs, round balls, blocks that are sort of biggish, not the little bitty ones. We have a couple of airmen making some but we'd like some that are made with letters and/or maybe pictures. Wooden toys are cool, too. Trucks and airplane toys would be AMAZING!
Maybe even a really big soft huggy dolly.
Pop-up books
Fuzzy slippers, maybe adult size. Big.
Anything else that would entertain or comfort a child.
You're the best. Tell everyone in San Diego Jessie says hi.
Jessie, Diego Garcia, British Indian Ocean
-0-Lissie read the email and figured it out. Then she opened an email form to a friend in Germany...
To: Sherese, Ramstein Air Base
From: Lissie, San Diego
HI! We got an emergency need to fill. If we get some toys together can we ship them to you and get a fast track to Diego Garcia before Christmas? Jessie has kids. You know. ;) This is so awesome. Let me know, Sherese.
X0, Lissie
-0-Ramstein Air Base
Sherese read the email with a smile, then turned to the three women and two men in her administrative unit. "Boys and girls, we have a priority one Santa emergency going down in Diego Garcia."
They read the email with amusement and excitement. "Better hump it then," Airman Samantha Purvis said.
They nodded in agreement, then jumped on the internet as Sherese copied the email left to go the airfield commandant to ask a favor.
The network lit up the world as people responded, putting things together until a package was finalized at Andrews Air Base in Maryland. Overnight, the different components were flown in and packed carefully into a large wooden crate after being wrapped. Placed with them were dozens of cards filled with pictures and good wishes from the twenty-seven people who had a hand in making the gift possible. The package was then strapped down on a transport plane to begin the circuitous route to Diego Garcia as the plane made its stops along the way. By the time it set down, the night would be passing and the designation 'Christmas Day' would be falling over the hushed sleepy isle of Diego Garcia.
-0-Conference Room, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia, at the same time
Nast sat in his chair struggling to appear unconcerned but he'd been shown enough to know that he had no outs, no leeway, nothing. If they turned him into the authorities he was never going to see daylight again. He'd probably get a firing squad because of the numerous counts of treason that he so clearly committed. Even the idea of prison made him ill.
Prime watched him following the stages of his 'grief' with a practice made of eons of similar moments of revelation. He'd seen this before, deluded criminals thinking they could make alliances with the Decepticons and finding out that there was no partnership, there never would be and there never could be. The only Cybertronians who ever entered into alliances and kept them were the Autobots.
"So you know," he finally said. "What do you want me to do about it and what's in it for me?"
Prime laying aside his datapad at last, leaned forward, clasping his servos together. "Well, Mr. Nast, we are very glad that you asked..."
-0-Later that afternoon
They walked out of the conference room, Springer heading toward the brig with his latest human rag doll in servo. He walked to the brig, Inferno let him in, then he set the human down with only less indifference than before. As he turned to go, Nast hollered up at him.
Springer paused, all twenty-five feet of yellow and green mech giving off an effortless menace. He looked down at the human, his gaze filled with checked malice. "What?"
Nast walked to the bars to ask in spite of himself. "Are you really bonded with Prime?"
Springer looked at Nast, turning his head to one side as he peered down. Then he knelt bringing himself even closer to Nast. "Why?"
Nast considered him. "High Flyer wants to sell you to me. I want to know why he hates you."
Springer considered a number of answers he could give, turning them over and over in his helm. Then he settled on the one he gave because he was a FRAGGIN' WRECKER!
WRECK 'N Rule!
"Maybe its because he's not getting any and I am."
With that, he rose to his full height, shot a withering gaze at all four, then walking out with a nod to Inferno on the way.
Inferno grinned slightly as he looked at them with a sad shake of his head. "Never frag with a Wrecker, dumb afts. Never."
They stared at him without a clue.
-0-Conference Room, Diego Garcia
They sat together, Springer joining them as they worked out a snare for Starscream. The intention was to catch him and haul his sorry ass to Diego Garcia. If they could take down Starscream the list of potential leaders with Megatron gone or missing was negligible. Even if it probably wouldn't end the war it might mean a respite and every day they weren't fighting was a day Autobot City could add one more piece to its mosaic. It would mean one more day for refugees to come, to hear Prime's call to find refuge, respite and home. They worked long into the afternoon working out the bits and pieces that would drop the net on enemy number one. Hopefully, they thought. \
Hopefully.
-0-Later that night
Ironhide sneaked in, removing his cannons and other general mayhem then crept to the berth. His sensors had scanned the room and all its contents including a reclining Ratchet. He knew that the medico wasn't recharging. He sat then patted Ratchet's thigh. "Waiting up?"
"Sure," Ratchet said tugging on Ironhide to recline. He did. Ratchet turned toward him tossing a leg and arm over his body. "Got the goods on the jackasses?"
"Yep," Ironhide said pulling Ratchet against his chassis. "How's the sparkling?"
"Exuberant."
"Hurt much?"
"Only when I smile."
[Grin] "You've been watching those soap opera things again."
"As The Kitchen Sinks?" Ratchet replied. "Sort of a slow day."
"Those are the good days," Ironhide said rubbing Ratchet's back with his servo.
"The femmes at N.E.S.T. have something going on for tomorrow. They want us in the youngling's play room for a Christmas thing."
"What kind of Christmas thing?" Ironhide asked. "They do know we aren't from around these parts?"
Ratchet chuckled. "I think so."
It was silent a moment.
"I think they like the younglings."
"What's not to like?" Ironhide agreed.
"Silverbow actually talked today," Ratchet said. "She's so cute."
"What did she say?" Ironhide asked.
"What."
"What?"
"She said 'what'."
"That's what I'm asking. What did she say?"
Ratchet paused a moment to consider that he'd heard this kind of thing before. Then it came to him, a TNT movie special on comedians that included this skit by Abbott and Costello, famous old time Vaudevillian comedians who had a baseball routine. Grinning rather wolfishly, he began again. "'What'."
"What? Ratchet, have you gone off your processor? I'm asking what she said."
"'What.'"
Ironhide who was trying to figure out the angle involved in the conversation decided to cut his losses. "Well, if you're going to be an aft, I'll ask Hound. At least, I know who."
"Who? He's on first."
It was silent a moment as metaphorical steam rose out of Ironhide's audials, then Ratchet filled him in. After watching the peerless clip from the peerless comedians, Ironhide roared. Then he filed it away in the document dump entitled 'Things to do to Prime on a slow day".
[Google 'Bud Abbot and Lou Costello who's on first' and you will find out]