A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long! I've had a combination of RL issues and other writing projects distracting me, but hopefully we're back in business now. Sorry about the wait. I promise, not abandoning this thing.

Chapter 15: Transformation

Riella studied the long drop over the side of the Hoover Dam, vaguely intrigued by the construction. She had to admit it was fairly impressive, by human standards. Credit where credit was due.

A gun brushed against her back, catching on her torn jacket. She turned to arch an eyebrow at Harris, resisting the urge to demonstrate why letting your captive know exactly where the gun was located was a bad move. "Agent, there is really no point in the constant threats. You are not improving my opinion of you."

"Just get moving," Harris grunted, though he backed off slightly with the gun. "Boss wants to talk to you."

Riella rolled her eyes and followed Sam and Mikaela in the direction he'd indicated, frowning at the sight of Simmons and another Sector Seven agent. If this is not about Bumblebee, we are not talking.

"Hey, kid." Simmons ignored her, speaking cheerfully to Sam, who glanced sideways at Riella as if hoping for a cue. "I think we got off to a...bad start, huh? You guys must be hungry. You want a latte? HoHo? Double venti macchiato?"

All right. This is pointless. I am done with pointless. "Enough nonsense, Agent. Where is Bumblebee?" Riella moved in front of Sam, all but forcing Simmons to look at her.

"Uh...who?" He looked genuinely confused. She resisted the urge to pursue that line of thought. It was not important.

"My car?" Sam, having apparently decided that Simmons was less dangerous than he appeared, glared at the man from behind Riella's shoulder. "You know, the one you took?"

"I'm sorry about your car, but we have bigger priorities." Riella arched an eyebrow at the other Sector Seven agent, who glared at her from behind sunglasses. "All three of you need to listen to me very carefully. People can die here. We need to know everything you know, and we need to know it now."

Riella straightened her shoulders and stared through the sunglasses coolly. "Agent, I am well aware that people can, and will, die here. This is not news. You do not need to know everything I know, and making demands will not help you."

"You do not give me orders, young lady!" the agent snapped. "What was it – Atlas? Let's get one thing straight." He took a step closer, deliberately invading her personal space. She didn't move, maintaining eye contact. "I give the orders here! I don't care if you do have alien friends, you have no authority to do anything other than answer my questions!"

"Indeed?" Riella shifted her weight slightly, adjusting her stance so that she stood as tall as he did. Irritation rose, combining with her anger at Bumblebee's treatment, but she suppressed it for the moment. "This is nothing personal, Agent." Though it could quite easily become so. "Take this as a professional recommendation. In your position, threatening me is…unwise. You are holding someone I value highly prisoner, making no effort to treat him well. Regardless of what you believe, you are outgunned in this particular scenario."

"Will you stop with the car?" Simmons pushed Sam out of his way, closing in on Riella. "When are you gonna get it through your head? We are in charge here, lady!"

The second agent – Banachek, she noted on his nametag – followed that up with a sharp gesture to Harris. In her peripheral vision, Riella saw him draw his gun yet again and narrowed her optics, allowing her holograms to fade. I am tired of being threatened. Banachek didn't notice the warning signs, and took another step closer, all but pushing her back. "You want that car back? Start talking. You're gonna stop with the attitude and give us everything we want to know, now, or I can personally guarantee that you will regret it."

"I will regret this? I will regret it?" Riella's increasingly limited patience gave out. Threatening Bumblebee was your mistake. "What makes you think you have any authority over me, human? Why should I listen to you? I command armies and win battles, child. You've seen me in action and still truly think you can intimidate me with a gun? I survive worse in routine accidents!" She spun and hit Harris's gun open-handed, bending the barrel sideways and sending it clattering across the concrete. "You threaten me with death? I have been a warrior risking my own life, and those of my soldiers, since before those who created your agency were born! You are so desperate to learn about the Autobots?" A humorless smirk flashed across her face, and a single thought – no better time for this – triggered her transformation sequence. "Try talking to one!"

Banachek and Simmons jumped back simultaneously as her arms, legs, and torso extended and expanded, shredding the leather jacket in the process. Riella took a nanosecond to sigh – she'd liked that coat - as her armor locked into place, a familiar prickle running through her organic skin as panels rotated and separated it.

Four thousand years and that is still uncomfortable.

The simple helm flipped into place over the top of her head, wheels extended from midway down each calf and spun for a moment before the latches kicked in, and Riella relaxed her stance to allow the lower leg to form and extend into narrow feet and heel struts. She'd learned from experience that tension in that area did not help. Intense blue-green optics glowed in the center of a pale, scar-streaked metal face, and sunlight glinted off the red Autobot symbol etched into the center of the silver windshield forming the upper half of her chest. She tilted her head and cracked her neck, taking a second to enjoy the return to fourteen feet tall and the looks on the humans' faces.

Yes. Remaining undercover for this long was worth it.

She crouched slightly to get a better look at the humans, cycling her right arm through a transformation to cannon mode and back again. It was in full working order, and more importantly, had the desired effect. "I would prefer not to ask again. Where is Bumblebee?" The metallic echo was more pronounced now, emphasizing her slight accent.

"What the hell are you?!" Banachek demanded. Riella noticed he'd drawn a gun, and eyed it with a faintly raised eyebrow ridge.

"Agent, that weapon will be even less effective now."

It hit the ground with a clatter. Riella turned her gaze to Simmons, who took another stumbling step back. "Oh, God. This is bad, right?"

"You might say that." Riella allowed a growl to creep into her voice. "Bumblebee?"

Simmons shook his head, eyes going wider and wider. "You're one of them. One of them. And you can look human and – holy crap, this changes the whole deal – "

"Answer me." Riella deliberately lowered her voice into the tone she used for uncooperative Decepticons. "Now, Agent."

"Inside! He's inside." Simmons took another step back, talking too quickly and looking around as if expecting someone to help him. "Okay? Inside. Not out here. Inside, where it's not quite so…open…"

Riella rolled her optics and snapped, "I can recognize a stall tactic when I see one, Agent, and yours is particularly transparent. Waiting for your weaponry to arrive will not help you." She bent down to look him directly in the eye. "I am not in a patient mood. Tell me where Bumblebee is, now, or…" With a quick scan to make sure there were no humans within her target range, she swept her cannon arm back and fired without looking, retaining eye contact with the agents the entire time. Sector Seven agents yelled and scattered as the muted blast was drowned out by the resulting explosion, shrapnel clattering across the ground.

Well. She hadn't expected an S.U.V to be quite so…volatile.

On the bright side, it did have the desired effect. The clear realization on Simmons' face of what he'd just gotten himself into told her that she would have no more trouble getting what she wanted. Of course, openly firing was not an option when dealing with the humans themselves, and had Optimus been there, she was sure she would have received a stern reprimand for the implied threat.

No matter. Optimus was not there, and sometimes it was better not to specify every single action when reporting to your commanding officer.

"Well?" She returned her attention to the two humans in front of her. Banachek swallowed visibly.

"This way. Ma'am." The last word sounded like an afterthought, and an irritated one at that.

"Good decision." Riella kept her steps slow and short to match his pace, which had the added side effect of emphasizing that even though she was a small Cybertronian, she was still large enough to step on him. "Sam, Mikaela, stay close, please. I would prefer to have you within my sight, for now."

"Coming!" Sam ran to catch up, staring up at her with wide eyes. "Hey, Riella? As long as you're the one negotiating, I'd like my parents back too. Oh, and her juvie record?" He gestured to Mikaela. "That's got to be gone, like, forever. Can you…"

"We'll see," Riella promised, with a narrow-eyed glare at Simmons. "I cannot make any promises. Bumblebee is my priority at the moment. After I've recovered him, and determined his condition, then we'll see how much negotiation I am still willing to do with these agents."

Banachek flinched. It was more satisfying than it should have been.