Part Five

Onslaught

Twelve Hours

Lennox didn't receive the phone call until a full twelve hours later. Bumblebee had glanced at the clock and shrugged away when he saw the time, then heard the phone ring, and turned around quickly. The frustration and the tension had been steadily building from everyone since they got back an hour ago, and no one had moved, no one had the desire to move since this morning.

Optimus looked up from where he sat. He refused to speak to anyone since he'd come in, and ignored Rachet when he tried to perform a tune up. Ironhide mulled behind him, looking down at the floor like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen in the entire world.

Lennox didn't receive the phone call until a full twelve hours later, and when he did, he shoved it off the receiver and answered right away. He was at his wit's end, he was tired, but knew he wouldn't sleep. Epps looked up hauntingly at his face, arms wrapped around themselves, leg bobbing frustratedly.

"Hello? Who is this?" he answered, watching the Autobots turn toward him.

"Have you found him yet?" Mearing asked, a sharp edge to her tone. Lennox's eyes widened and he dropped the pen he was holding, looking up to Optimus, who stared back at him. "He has been missing a full twelve hours now, hasn't he? I suppose it's all their fault, if you know what I mean. If you had listened in the first place, and if they left when they had the time, then none of this would've happened. Sam would still be here, I suppose."

"Where. Is. He?" The stony edge to Lennox's voice had taken more than a malevolent tone. He was more than furious. There was more than white rage flowing through him. He was going to kill her, rip her flesh apart, and she was going to scream in absolute agony. Optimus had raised himself from sitting position, and Epps walked over to where he stood, his ear coming close to the other end of the phone. Ironhide punched his fist, mumbling how much he was going to enjoy watching her suffer.

"Oh, don't worry about that, he's- Well, he's- Not exactly doing as well as I hoped. There is so much mess, and well, I'm afraid that I got a little clumsy-."

Lennox was shaking. She slaughtered him. The bitch tore him up. The bitch was going to pay.

She was fucking senseless.

"Where. Is. He?" he repeated, and Epps leaned away from him, pulling a gun up from one of the metal tables nearby. By now, Bumblebee had heard enough of the conversation, and he closed in on himself, feeling his sensors die down.

Sam really was dead.

Again.

"Oh, I'm not able to say, am I? I'm not allowed, because then you'll find me, right? And I don't want that- I mean, we don't want that, do we, Lennox? Anyway, I am standing over him right now, if you'd like to know. He—He's smiling, if that's what you'd like to know. He's happy now he has nothing to tie him here. He's glad he doesn't have to experience any more suffering all thanks to me—"

A/N: Yeah, I can pretty much see the evil looks I'm getting... I apologise, but I've been up half the night typing this, and I'm sooo knackered right now that i can't keep my eyes open to type this! Don't worry, though...

The question remains poised: Will Sam come back and save the day? Will Mearing pay for her ignorance? (sorry again, I really am making her out to be as evil hag, when she isn't really...) Will I ever learn to stop putting Sam on death row? (The answer to that question is, eh, no)

Read and Review, tell me if you like, or really hate!

xoxoxox