Chapter 156
-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia
The senior Autobots and the soldiers of N.E.S.T. stood around Teletraan II watching the report on the screen. It had dominated the local news in Houston all day and had filtered into the mainstream media a short while after it had happened.
-0-Earlier
She stood in the silent house absorbing the emptiness, then walked to the stairs. Halfway up, the phone rang. She paused, debating about letting it go to the service but changed her mind. She walked back down to reach for the phone.
It would be the last thing she would ever do.
-0-Ops Center, Diego Garcia
The sound of the odd machine spinning data punctuated the room's intense silence as they watched the police and fire department of Houston respond to the explosion. It had leveled the house, tossing it into the air to reduce it to match sticks. A brilliant fire had burned fiercely then extinguished itself almost immediately, apparently running out of fuel.
People stood around the area in shock, houses nearby had broken windows from the intensity and size of the blast and no one was going to stake a position on either why or how such a thing could happen. It was all too preliminary.
Because of who Nast was, federal bureaus such as the ATF, Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms as well as the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the FBI, and other relevant officials were there including the Texas Rangers and local municipal departmental figures. The press was out in force talking to neighbors who were chatting to news people, mostly about speculation. There was even some saying this was payback by extremists for the company's terroristic behavior in the Middle East. Everyone official was denying it was anything more than a simple explosion, possibly related to a ruptured gas line until more was known.
What was more important to everyone concerned was the notion that one or more bodies had been pulled from the rubble. Some said one. Others said it was Nast and his wife. No one seemed to know for sure.
Those watching in Diego Garcia were pretty clear that the body was Lydia Nast or one of their three teenagers. The senseless overkill, the terrible finality of the act, the idea that Shockwave might be aware of them, all of it had changed the temperature of their effort and gave them pause.
"Pretty big blast," Ironhide said swaying gently as he rocked Orion to recharge. The infant was lying in the usual place, his optics twirling around in that comical way that all infants in every dimension seemed to have when they fought sleep. "I'd say it was a triggered explosion."
Perceptor and Wheeljack nodded. "It could have been when she turned on a light or anything that she would do without a thought. What a large explosion as well."
"Yes," Wheeljack said. "It burned furiously, then went out. There's a lot of fuel lying around there but the fire went out and didn't touch that. Decepticon technology."
"Shockwave either knows or was spooked by Nast. I do not know which it is but I do not like any of it," Optimus said his voice as cold and hard as steel. "We can not assume that he has not gotten a glimmer that something is wrong."
"Or maybe he felt Nast had outlived his usefulness," Prowl said as frown of worry formed on his handsome face. "It could be that he's tidying up loose ends like he did with the informant on the last operation."
"That could be true," Optimus said. "We must go with the idea that he knows something. How much, we can not hazard. But we can take it as a precaution to not underestimate what he has figured out."
"Who's going to tell Nast that his wife is dead because he was playing around with Decepticons?" Ratchet asked quietly.
No one spoke a moment, then Optimus looked at Red Alert. "Red, bring Mr. Nast to the conference room."
Red nodded, pulling the many plugs that he normally used when listening from fifteen to thirty different channels of information and video at the same time. He rose and left.
A solemn Sideswipe slipped in to take his place.
"Ratchet, Will and Niall, I would like you to come with me. I think Mr. Nast needs to know." Optimus rose, his optics lingering on the screen. Then with the humans in hand, literally, the group walked out of the room.
-0-Nearby
Everyone on base had heard of the explosion and speculation was rampant about what this could mean in relation to their apprehension or destruction of Shockwave in less than two weeks' time. Besides that project, a film crew and interviewer had secured access to the base for a broadcast story about the Autobots in nine days. In three, Andrea Hoxley, Senator of California and eight of her committee colleagues were coming for a two day long visit to see for themselves some of that legendary cooperation between humans and Cybertronians. It was a full schedule. How this would turn that around no one knew.
-0-Conference Room
Three comfortable chairs were sitting on the table with Lennox and Graham occupying two of them. The senior Autobots were sitting in other chairs around the table when the door opened and Red Alert entered, carefully carrying Nast on his hand. He gently put him on the table then stepped back, watching with dark emotions as they all turned to him.
Nast, for his part sat in the chair looking back at everyone including the soldiers with a wary expression. "What?" he asked, his voice on edge.
"Mr. Nast," Optimus began, then he considered what he would have to disclose. "There is no easy way to tell this to you so I will be direct. This morning there was an explosion at your house. It was blown up and your wife who was inside was killed."
It was intensely quiet as they watched Nast digest the news. He looked at them, then the soldiers, then Optimus once more. Rising, he walked toward that end of the table slowing to a dazed finish before he reached Prime. "What are you saying?"
"I am saying, Mr. Nast, that your home in Houston was blown up this morning and your wife, the only one in the house at the time was killed. I am very sorry."
He looked at Prime then all the others.
Ratchet punched a button on the screen behind him. A news report of the house in shreds, the body being removed from the house in a body bag and speculation on who did it and where Nast was filled the room. He looked at it disbelievingly, then turned to Prime. "What? How could this happen? Who did this?"
"We believe that Shockwave did it," Optimus replied softly. "We believe he either knows you are working with us or he just feels you no longer have value to him."
Nast looked at him. "But I went to the meeting. I did my part. How could he know about this? About all of this?"
"Shockwave is no fool, Mr. Nast. He's a very logical, rational, utterly devious and ruthless individual. He sees nothing more of killing humans than you do when you swat at a mosquito," Prowl said, his voice cool and calm. "You should understand if not then, then now that he's a sparkless murderer."
Nast walked back to the chair to sit heavily. Then he started. "My kids."
"They were not at home," Optimus said.
Nast deflated with relief, then looked at Optimus. "I have to go home. My kids … I have to see my kids."
"We cannot allow that. That blast was meant for you. Shockwave wants you dead. If you show yourself, your children will be put into danger," Optimus replied. "It is better for your family in the short term to believe that you are dead. If Shockwave thought you still lived he might use them to find you."
Nast stared at Prime with devastation on his face. "What do we do now?"
"We sit and wait. We have a meeting in little more than two weeks. We need to have it," Prime said.
"And me? Do I hide out here or what?" Nast asked leaning back as he closed his eyes.
"You will stay here and he can think you are dead or not," Optimus said. "We have people in Texas working to make that the story that comes out of the explosion. We want Shockwave to believe he killed you."
"Why did he do this? I was working for what he wanted," Nast said.
"Maybe he got all that he thought you could provide. Maybe he figured it out. We do not know yet what this means but we intend to find out. In the meantime you will remain here. We will have a medic visit you if you wish."
Nast stared at the floor. Then he nodded absently, looking around as if he were lost. For all intents and purposes, he was.
-0-Med Bay
Ratchet sat uneasily as he looked at his computer screen wondering about Houston and all that it could mean for everyone in the room. Then the news came through on the in-house bulletin board. The Aerialbots and the rescue teams had reached the shuttles bearing the refugees and the forty Autobot soldiers.
They were in pretty good shape and included a number of well-known Cybertronians, skilled and unskilled, elders and a number of very young ones as well. The soldiers included two surviving Wrecker crews, a number of munitions and weapons experts as well as young and old Autobots from back in the war around Cybertron.
They were sending information as fast as they could including encrypted messages for Prime rumored to include the locations and status of Omega Supreme and Metroplex. Some speculation, all of it unfounded as of yet seemed to point to the refugees following this group. It was believed to say that the mini-cons were being transported by Omega Supreme and Metroplex themselves to ensure that Decepticons didn't get their hands on the incredibly vulnerable and infinitely valuable potential power links.
Only Prime would know and he didn't have any words to offer those bold enough to ask. Only a grin and a shrug when asked. It was enough to give a bot a processor ache.
Ratchet considered the reports, all preliminary on the medical condition of the refugees. They were in reasonable condition so his presence at Autobot City was on standby. He was glad. He was getting close to Sunny's separation and being home with the fam was that much more important than usual.
He smirked. The fam. Humans and their cute words, he thought. Then he thought of Nast, grieving and alone in his brig cell. Even if he knew that Nast was a predator, that he caused orphans to bloom in the desert like roses, he still felt badly. Rising to walk to the door, he waited for Ironhide to pass by on his security rounds. Mechs came and went as Ironhide finally came into view with Orion tucked into his arm sound asleep.
Ratchet stepped out to join him and they spent the next hour walking in Ironhide's route, pausing here and there to chat with the hordes that filmed and followed them as he made his scans and checked his internal checklists. The afternoon would pass by quietly.
-0-Daniels
He sat with the investigators and got pelted by their questions. It was clear that they had taken a side, he thought and that the side taken wasn't his. Reports littered the table, reports that were book marked and highlighted. They spoke of drunkenness, carelessness, provocation and an immense lack of professionalism that bordered on and sometimes crossed the line of criminal behavior. It appeared to Daniels that they were painting the bulls eye onto him for everything that had happened on Diego.
It infuriated him as he threw back into their faces his connections and disdain for 'salaried men'. It was a tossup who hated who the most when they adjourned. Walking across the tarmac toward N.E.S.T. from the Communications hangar, Warren Roberts was thoroughly pissed. "I don't care if his father is God himself. This man is unfit for service in his capacity."
"It appears that a pattern of harassment is unfolding, Warren," his aide, Milton Swarner said.
"I agree," Roberts replied. "I think it's time to remove these people from this island."
They continued onward toward the soldier's barracks where Bobby Epps and Jazz were waiting, lounging in the sunshine just behind.
-0-Sunstreaker
Pausing in his drawing, Sunstreaker felt the sparkling whirling around his spark, chasing himself with exuberance. He felt it, the strange burst of life within his chest, then he felt something else for the first time, a tiny pulse of joy so bright and shiny that he dropped his pencil. He off lined his optics as he felt it shimmering between them, the enormous front liner and the tiny silvery spark of life that had been created in love and joy and was theirs.
He sat back, leaning against the bulkhead and felt the sparkling try to communicate with him. They knew of each other, Sunstreaker only begrudgingly acknowledging the numerous times that the flickering speck of joy had called to him. The speck of life didn't seem to mind that his creator was conflicted. In its perfect world, it had all it needed.
Sunstreaker put his servo on his chest, feeling the flutter of the sparkling and the steady pulse of his own spark. They were united. They were one. He hadn't been alone, truly alone since this had happened and even if he'd been less than attentive to this spark, the little one was entirely attentive to him. For him, there was nothing else that existed.
So Sunstreaker sat relaxed, the sketch pad to one side as he shuttered his optics to commune with the little one who would be his in less than two decaorns.