Disclaimer: No, I don't own Transformers. If I did, Barricade would not be pleased. And I'd probably be dead in a ditch somewhere after messing with one angry 'Con. Heh.
Author's Notes:
Bumblebee and Barricade (yes, especially Barricade) are a little out of canon character right now, but I promise things will be explained in due time and their actions will be more understandable. Bumblebee is going to go a little crazy at this point in the story but I promise it's not forever. Or... is it? ;) Haha, guess we'll see! Also, I'm drawing from several different continuities for Barricade's personality, and that does include the Law and Disorder bits from Titan (which are absolutely fricking hysterical by the way). So, he's not that OOC… I swear. :)
Chapter Seven:
Maeve drummed her fingers absently on the steering wheel as she drove around some of Tranquility's nicer neighborhoods.
While it was highly unlikely for anything worse than a garage robbery to happen in these neighborhoods, you never could be sure. Crime happened in all neighborhoods, regardless of class. It was only frequency that seemed to be uncertain in these neighborhoods. Either way, she was enjoying some down time after a busy morning.
Her stomach rumbled, and she sighed. Her busy day so far had already cost her lunch. She sincerely hoped things calmed down enough so she could eat something, and pop a few more ibuprofen to deal with her hangover induced splitting headache.
Maeve had already dealt with one domestic disturbance call that had come almost immediately after she had left the precinct, an ADW, two welfare checks, one nasty car accident, and then a DV call. It had only been a few hours since the start of her shift.
She rolled her eyes as she remembered her fervent hope from when she had woken up; that today would be another easy day like yesterday had been. Yeah, right. She was lucky enough for an "easy day" yesterday.
In law enforcement, it was generally known that you only got one easy day before the day from hell.
The hangover didn't help, either. She had popped several ibuprofens before she had driven to work, which had eased the headache, but the day itself had been hell. And of course, the headache was creeping once again to the forefront of her brain. She wanted to scream.
The nasty encounters were enough; the people screaming at her, like the crime was her fault, like she had been the idiot to run through a red light and T-bone a minivan full of kids, like she had been the idiot to scream and throw salsa dishes at her partner because the other had cheated with a "two-bit whore", like she was the idiot who had beat the crap out of her significant other for no other reason than switching the tv channel.
Which of course, she wasn't responsible for any of those things, but given the nature of the people she had dealt with already today, supposedly all these things, which they had committed, were instead "all her fault".
She scowled. It was hard to not become bitter in this job. Her head ached, and she cursed herself, for the millionth time today, for drinking before a shift. She was toeing the line dangerously close with her drinking, and she knew it. Thank God she was still able to do her job.
She couldn't help but wonder, though, when it would affect her to the point of losing it. She shook her head, trying desperately to banish the thought from her mind. She focused instead on what had already happened today.
Maeve rubbed her still tingling face, grimacing at what had happened at the last domestic violence call. She was positive it was going to bruise, badly. That bastard.
Barricade had watched those incidents with increased interest, filing away information on the woman from each incident. Out of curiosity, he had hacked into every file that had ever been uploaded to a computer about the woman. He had already known a fair bit about her, but he was anxious to know more.
A more complete picture was forming of her character, her strengths, her weaknesses, and her past. Maeve was a good police officer as far as he could tell. She was fair, but stern when she had to be, and was not fearful of situations that most squishies would have been.
Barricade tacked that up to her veteran police officer experience, and her SWAT team's influence, especially after watching her training session the day before. And he admitted to himself, after last night's impromptu driving training session; that she was an impeccable driver who knew precisely what she was doing on the asphalt.
His spark fluttered a bit at the memory, and Barricade struggled to control himself.
Still, Barricade couldn't help but hope gleefully that they would see a high-speed chase.
He focused on what had already occurred. He had sensed her simmering anger during the domestic violence calls and grudgingly admitted to himself that he was impressed by her level of self-control. The majority of the Decepticon faction were not known for their self-control, and Barricade admired those few Decepticons who weren't maniacally homicidal and thought through their actions.
He struggled with self-control himself, and even though he admired the young human female, he could also admit his own jealousy at how she handled herself. Barricade struggled with his emotions, struggled with admiring her and equally loathing her for doing what he so often had not.
While the large hulking man at the last domestic violence scene had tried to bully and intimidate her, as he had done to his bleeding and cowering wife, Maeve had portrayed an image of calm as she put herself between the man and woman, standing tall and looking the man in the eyes warily but defiantly. It was as if she was saying "Try it, and I'll beat you to a pulp, you pathetic piece of crap".
When the man had suddenly darted for her, Barricade had nearly transformed to protect her impulsively, but there hadn't been a need. Only the wife had noticed the patrol cruiser lurching forward and then shuddering to a stop, but the wife had thought that surely she was imagining things.
The abuser had tackled Maeve, punching her in the cheek once as they went down, but his balance had been off.
Maeve had been able to push him off her in startling quickness, using her hips to displace his weight from on top of her. She had quickly thrown him underneath her, his face slamming into the damp green grass as she had handcuffed him in seconds. Then she sat on him with her Taser to his back. She knew that the little point pressing on his back was a wakeup call for the man not to do anything stupid.
Of course, some people couldn't even get that hint. She had hoped he wasn't one of them.
"This is 643, where is my backup? Officer needs assistance, 2017 S. Berry Ave. Gonna need a suspect transport capable car too; other party is also gonna need an EPO against this guy. Domestic abuser zero, officer one." She had said, practically gloating, and Barricade could hear the amused laughter from the dispatch as they confirmed and told her that her backup was close.
The man had screamed a dizzying array of sexist euphemisms and violent epithets at the officer that had left Barricade mostly confused until he had searched the meanings of the terms on the world wide web.
He was surprised that she could keep calm as some of the vilest taunts his audio processors had ever heard were screamed at her.
The Decepticons insulted and taunted each other for fun, but many of their terms were practically sparkling language compared to the filth spewing from the man's mouth. It surprised Barricade. Perhaps these fleshlings weren't as beneath the Decepticons as they had thought.
Four years he had seen the very depths of depravity that the humans were capable of, and yet, this one idiotic man's tirade had brought him to the very brink of striking out. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the agitated femme that sat on the man.
Primus, he was changing.
Barricade's alt form was trembling in irritation from the street, while Maeve ignored the abuser's taunts as she waited for her backup to arrive.
The man's wife had watched the entire incident in shock, but thankfully didn't approach Maeve.
Maeve had had some situations over the years in which an abuser's wife attacked the responding police officers and she was thankful that this situation hadn't disintegrated to that point.
Backup arrived, the man had gone to jail, the wife went to the hospital with several officers drawing up an EPO, and Maeve waved off the paramedics who demanded to let them check out the darkening bruise on her cheek.
She had such fair skin that she bruised easily. The man's punch had caught her off guard, but he had done no serious damage. Just one annoying and stinging bruise.
Still, she had to deal with a detective taking photographs of the bruised skin and telling the detective exactly what happened, in full detail. It was clear the abuser was not only going to get a DV charge, he was also getting an assault on a peace officer charge.
Maeve scowled as she remembered. The jackass deserved the charge, but it meant more court time for her, a subpoena, and a defense attorney who would try to contradict everything she said while bringing up every part of her past that they could find. That last part irritated her more than anything else. They didn't need to bring her past up in court; it was irrelevant, and ludicrous.
She sighed. Some parts of her job were a total pain in the ass.
And now as they drove around Tranquility's nicer neighborhoods, Barricade assessed the young female officer. Yes, she was a worthy LEO who had grown tremendously in the last few years. He looked through her files again, deeper this time, feeling darkly amused when he saw a small number of use of force complaints. All of them were designated as "unfounded", except for one, which had earned her a permanent black mark on her record and six weeks of unpaid leave.
Looking over the file, Barricade was amazed that it had been determined a reputable complaint. It appeared to him that Maeve had every right to react as she had. The man who filed the complaint was a fellow officer, a known drunk, and had been fired three months after the incident with Maeve. According to the file, the man had been off-duty, drinking heavily, when a bar fight had occurred in which the drunk officer had pummeled a man so severely that he had broken the other man's orbital bone and had nearly sent the man's nose into his brain.
Maeve had been the responding officer. After the man had demanded that she give him a break (with a few choice epithets involved) because he was a cop, and after Maeve had refused, the man had told her that he wouldn't mind taking her in back and showing her what a real man was capable of, and that a girl such as herself would scream in ecstasy at what he wanted to do with her. He had gone so far as to grope Maeve, and trying to take her, trying to remove her clothing, while still muttering that Maeve was going to love it.
Maeve had shoved the man to the ground and had apparently punched him a number of times to the point where his face was a bloody pulp, as well as breaking several ribs and had ended up lacerating the man's spleen.
Barricade felt his anger rising as he read the report. Maeve had every right to respond the way she had, he thought. The drunk officer she had beat up deserved torture for what he had said to her and had tried to do to her, in Barricade's view. No one would hurt her, she was his. Even though it had happened long before Barricade had come back into the picture at TPD, he was extremely angry and wished he could tear the man limb from limb.
He kept reading.
The incident had occurred less than six months after her transfer from MCPD, and Barricade knew without a doubt that that had something to do with the way Maeve had violently reacted towards her fellow officer. The man who complained had been fired from Tranquility Police Department, though, not too long after; and searching quickly, Barricade found that the man had pulled a "suicide-by-cop" a hundred miles away seven months after the incident.
Barricade internally scowled. Humans were so strange; trusting others who were clearly bottom of the food chain and never reputable. Barricade's disdain and hatred for the man who had given Maeve her only "reputable" use-of-force complaint fought with his amusement over the rest of the complaints.
He saved copies of descriptions of the other incidents, eager to read them later. He shut those files, and continued to peruse her history within the department. She seemed to have an affinity for high speed chases, which he was delighted to see, especially after last night's driving session. That could be fun, he always enjoyed those…
And then he wandered across three officer involved shootings.
Now that was interesting. Did she have a nasty streak? The use of force complaints combined with the officer-involved shootings were certainly intriguing. Is the worthy LEO not so angelic and innocent as he remembered from years before?
His memory core replayed the previous domestic encounter; and her smirking look as she reported it to the dispatch center while sitting on the man. Barricade's alt form trembled from his silent laughter as he remembered. He pulled the specific files pertaining to the shootings and read through the summaries quickly.
He didn't notice the Autobot energy signature until they were nearly on top of it.
Maeve noticed the two young adults staring at her as they stood beside a new model yellow Camaro. The startled and suspicious looks on their faces were intriguing, but Maeve just smiled and waved as she drove on.
Two kids? Not a threat, she thought to herself. Barricade, however, knew that although the two human young "adults" were not a threat, the Camaro certainly was a threat. Barricade hoped they wouldn't follow, but that damn Bumbletwit wouldn't just let him drive away, he knew.
Barricade sighed. This was going to get ugly, and fast. He had wanted to spend a few weeks getting to know Maeve, as best as he could without showing himself until the proper time, but apparently he wasn't going to be given that opportunity.
He increased his acceleration, slight enough that Maeve didn't notice that she was no longer in control of driving.
At the Witwicky house, Bumblebee's alt form quivered in anger. So, the Decepticon police cruiser had finally showed up after disappearing for so many years. Bumblebee was still angry over their last encounter, even though he had won against the 'Con.
He hated the black and white mech, truly. Bumblebee was surprised at how far his anger, and his hatred, went when it came to the wily Decepticon. Bumblebee internally scowled as he considered the son of a glitch Decepticon that was accelerating quickly away from the Witwicky home.
Barricade had apparently taken the time to get a new holo-form it seemed, a woman that had smiled and waved to the three in sickening suspicious cheerfulness.
"Hey, Hey, Mr. Policeman – on my radar – I won't back down -" Bumblebee's audio clips were quick, anxious; and his engine revved in annoyance as he rocked back and forth quickly on his front and back tires.
Sam and Mikaela took the hint, and scrambled in to the Camaro. Bumblebee kept watch as the police cruiser kept going straight down the neighborhood street and didn't even wait for Sam or Mikaela to shut his doors, surprising both with the intensity of the car door slams.
Sam gave Mikaela a pointed look and she nodded in understanding. Bee was pissed.
Bumblebee, clearly, would not let the Decepticon scum stay alive.
"So, Bee, that was Barricade, for sure then?" Sam's voice was tiny. He remembered the last incident with the Decepticon police interceptor quite clearly.
"Sam, really, how many Saleen Mustang police cars do you see every day?" Mikaela said with an exasperated tone, but still she grabbed his hand and squeezed, just to let him know she understood his fears and was there for him no matter what. Sam smiled weakly at her in response, his eyes meeting hers with an evident thankfulness.
Bumblebee responded with a low whine and another short burst of audio clips, "I've come face to face with the enemy – it's been a long time coming, and the table's turned around cause one of us is going down –".
"Wow, pissed much Bee?"
"When my fist hits your face and your face hits the floor – don't cry like a bitch when you feel the pain" was the response Mikaela received. She patted Bee's dash encouragingly.
"That's right, Bee, that Decepticon doesn't have shit compared to you. Just remember that when you fight, drop us off somewhere before, k? Don't wanna be squished." She could feel Bee chuckle, and she smiled. The smile disappeared though as Bee suddenly gunned it towards the police cruiser, pressing them back into their seats.
Maeve looked in the rearview mirror of her patrol cruiser and saw the yellow Camaro speeding towards her recklessly.
Barricade internally sighed. Well, this was certainly an interesting turnaround from four years ago. Instead of chasing Bumblebee like he had during that encounter, the Autobot was now chasing him. And hadn't he just been wishing for a high-speed chase?
Oh, sweet irony, how you adore me, Barricade thought dryly.
"What the hell are they thinking?" Maeve took her foot off the gas, and tried to step on the brake, grabbing the steering wheel to twist the car around to make a quick U-Turn.
Maeve looked on in disbelief as the steering wheel didn't move. Her feet instinctively moved away from the pedals as she stared dumbly at the steering wheel.
This can't be happening. No WAY this is happening! Her hands and feet weren't touching anything and yet the car was still driving.
"How the fuck is this possible?" Maeve was freaking out, trying to move the steering wheel, press the brakes, something, anything!
Barricade ignored her theatrics as he accelerated away from the Camaro, and quickly disabled Maeve's communications systems when it looked like she would call for backup. That was the last thing he needed right now, more law enforcement humans getting in the way of an Autobot on the rampage and a Decepticon trying to save a human.
Barricade twitched at the logic glitch, and tried to cool his systems down. This was certainly a situation he had never thought to find himself in. Helping an organic? It was so strange. And yet, felt so right, according to his spark. Barricade twitched again.
At least I don't have to deal with trigger happy fleshlings, Barricade thought, relieved. Still, Barricade didn't count on Maeve using her cell phone, and swore quite loudly when she did so.
Maeve almost dropped the phone when the cuss words burst from the dashboard.
Slag it, I must concentrate, just going to have to let her contact one of her superiors, Barricade grumbled to himself as he accelerated away from the homicidal Autobot behind him. Bumblebee had lost it, Barricade had decided. Strange, but not entirely unpredictable. The youngling had grown up fast - too fast, to be entirely sane, Barricade thought. His attention turned to the human woman within him, who was holding a cell phone to her ear. He wanted to cut all signal to the damn human electronic device, but Barricade knew instinctively that he didn't want to. He wanted to hear what she said.
Barricade didn't miss her nervousness or her fear, even as he tried to speed ever faster from the Autobot behind him.
Maeve was biting her nails nervously as she heard the rings echo from the cell phone's speaker. Come on, answer! This must be the weirdest fucking day of my life and you choose today of all days not to answer? You jerk, answer your damn phone!
"Hello?" A groggy male voice answered.
"Oh, thank god," Maeve sighed in relief. "Jack, look, I need you right now, I can't get a hold of dispatch, my new patrol car is driving itself, and I swear it just said, 'frag it all to primus' or something like that and there is some crazy fucking yellow Camaro with two kids trying to drive me off the road!" Her tone was frantic now as she kept looking in the rearview mirror at the Camaro gaining on her and the Saleen.
Barricade bolted onto the freeway entrance, trying to avoid any residential streets. No need to put the squishies in harm's way (he twitched again); right now, his priority was to get Maeve the hell out of there. He accelerated on the open pavement and - Damn you Bumbletwit!
Barricade was seething. The Camaro had accelerated as well, and was on his bumper now, trying to nudge him off the road in some strange imitation of a PIT maneuver, and didn't even seem to notice the human's presence - or care.
Barricade did not like that.
"Calm down, Maeve, what are you talking about your car driving itself, is that a joke?" Jack was laughing on the other end; his grogginess having somewhat disappeared.
"Goddammit Jack, don't even get that fucking tone with me, do I sound like this is a joke - ARGHHHHH, OW, YOU FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!"
The Camaro had hit the Saleen at that moment, and Lieutenant Jack Murphy had heard the sickening crunch of metal on the other end of the phone line as well as a long stream of curse words springing from his SWAT team one leader.
"Maeve!" Jack cried out, his fear evident in his voice. The situation had turned from funny to serious very quickly. Jack was terrified as he waited for her to answer. He hoped she would answer. He didn't want to contemplate the alternative.
Then... a glimmer of hope. Her voice.
"Aghhh… I'm fine! Jack, hurry the fuck up before this bastard kills me!"
"Uh, kinda can't get to you if I don't know where you are…"
"Eastbound on the freeway, and we just passed the mall exit! Pull up my coordinates from the AVL if you need to, just get here NOW!" Maeve screamed, and then slammed the phone down on the passenger seat.
She breathed in, then out, calming her frazzled senses. No matter how weird and illogical the situation was, she knew that she still had to think logically. She had to, or she wouldn't survive. She knew that much. She mentally forced herself to think of this as a SWAT exercise; letting her training take over. Whatever the hell this thing was, that goddamn Camaro was putting everyone else on the road in danger and needed to be stopped.
She had to do whatever was necessary to stop it.
Even if it meant acknowledging that her new Saleen was something other than a regular police cruiser.
Even if it meant acknowledging that her new Saleen wasn't human made.
"Okay, car, I don't know what the hell you are, but those dumb kids and that goddamn Camaro are trying to run the both of us off the road and frankly, I don't feel like dying because of some stupid hot rod. What do you need from me?" Maeve's calm and determined tone contrasted starkly with her previous hysterical and psychotic demeanor, startling Barricade.
His attention was focused on her for just one second, just enough…
"For the love of all that's holy, drive faster you moron!" Maeve yelped shrilly as the Camaro rammed into them again with a sickening loud metallic crunch, almost sending them spiraling into the concrete highway divider. Barricade's balance compensators were able to correct before impact, even though Barricade still fishtailed wildly as Maeve clung to the seat, whimpering softly.
::Back off Bumblebee, you are putting the human law enforcement officer in danger!:: Barricade's voice yelped loudly from Bumblebee's dashboard, scaring Sam and Mikaela half out of their wits.
::Likely story, Barricade. You really thought that a female human holo-form would cause me to hesitate? And that I would believe your claims? You excel at lies and deception!:: Bumblebee's vicious snarl surprised Maeve just as much as Barricade's voice had surprised the other humans.
She winced at the hostility in those words.
::You idiot, it's not a damn holo-form, scan her yourself, you piece of Primus-forsaken slag! For once in my miserable worthless life, I am not lying!:: Barricade snarled back as he drove around two slow-moving minivans and accelerated, trying desperately to put distance between himself and the homicidal Autobot.
"Barricade? That's your name? And he's like you? And he doesn't think I'm real?" Maeve whispered, her voice filled with uncertainty as her nails dug sharply into the leather seat. She was terrified, even though she tried desperately to hide it.
Barricade could sense it in her heart rate, her skin, everything.
His spark raged with his conflicting emotions. He wanted to protect her from this, and yet his cynical and bitter nature wanted to tell her that the end was near, and that she was a pathetic fleshling who never had a chance, and that she was weak, and that she always had been, merely because she was a meat-bag.
He winced as his vile nasty thoughts cascaded through his processor. He took a split second to compile his thoughts. They both had to survive, even though he was admittedly irritated. He had to calm down.
He bit back the most scathing responses he wanted to respond to her questions with; though he could barely hold back his disdain for her fear. She was better than this, he knew. She had dealt with more improbable things than this, surely her courage should be greater than her fear.
He wondered if his previous praise for her was misguided.
He knew that it wasn't, but his own fears, his own doubts, were affecting him greatly. His spark was conflicted, yet again.
He took a second to think before he responded to her query. He tried, and failed, to quell his irritation before he answered her.
"Yes. My designation is Barricade. We also transform into 'giant effing robots' as you humans put it. That twit trying to kill us both; his designation is Bumblebee, he is an Autobot, and he hates me with a passion, so much so that he is willing to put his own human charges in danger to kill a human with authority even though that action is against every one of his precious fraggin' Autobot ideals," Barricade snarled at her.
He hated himself almost instantly for how he spoke to her, how she instinctively recoiled.
Even then, he couldn't help his remaining thought from escaping into spoken form, nearly snarling at her, "Any more annoying questions or are you going to help?"
Maeve's eyes went wide at the 'giant effing robot' part, flinching but desperately trying to ignore the police cruiser's particular nasty tone as memories she had once repressed hit her in full force. Memories that she hated, memories that led to her drinking every night, memories that coursed through her visible scars, memories that had led her to Tranquility, and ultimately to this point in time.
Her hazel eyes narrowed in rage as her fingers clasped the leather seat even sharper than before.
"I want to talk to him. Can you set up the radio to do that? And is there any way to convince him of my existence before you have to kill him?" Maeve's voice was deadly.
Barricade certainly noticed the "before you have to kill him" part.
"Yes. You can speak to him now." Barricade's voice was cool as Maeve snatched up the mic.
Barricade sent a copy of her entire file that he had dating back to Mission City to the Autobot while he activated his comlink to Bumblebee, allowing the human woman to speak directly to Bumblebee.
He had a suspicion that the Autoscum wouldn't even look at the file, probably thinking it some ruse to gain his trust and then break that trust in what Barricade knew to be his signature style.
He cycled his vents. He knew what he was and what he had done, but of course those actions would come and slag him at the worst possible moment and when he was really telling the truth. Figured.
Maeve keyed the mic, and spoke sternly.
::This is Senior Patrol Officer Maeve McWilliams of the Tranquility Police Department. Autobot Bumblebee, you are to cease and desist, immediately. Or face the consequences.::
Bumblebee in turn gunned harder for the Saleen, ignoring the female voice coming from his stereo. As Barricade had suspected, Bumblebee completely ignored the datapack. Sam and Mikaela just looked at each other in surprise at what Maeve had radioed. Was this real?
"Well, that didn't work." Barricade snarled in an aggravated tone as he tried once again to accelerate out of Bumblebee's range. The two were almost evenly matched as they sped along the freeway.
"No shit, Sherlock! Shut the fuck up, and drive!" Maeve growled back as she reached into the backseat and grabbed the large black bag that was sitting there.
She had brought her SWAT bag with her again today, even though no training was scheduled. As she always believed: you never knew when SWAT was called for. She certainly believed that now was certainly a time that her specially trained tactics and abilities were needed.
"What are you doing, human?" Barricade asked her with suspicion. He had an idea of what she was thinking.
"I told him that he'd face the consequences if he didn't cease and desist. This is the consequence." Maeve unzipped the bag and pulled out her AR-15 assault rifle.
"I like your thinking, fleshling." There was a sadistic and menacing tone in Barricade's voice that Maeve did not like. She shot a chilling glare at the dashboard.
"It's not to kill; it's for a warning shot. Being in SWAT has its perks." Maeve responded as she loaded the rifle carefully. "Can you locate Lt. Murphy? He's in that new Dodge Charger, should be Cruiser 280, put the results on the MDS so I can see. And I need a connection to his radio channel, now!"
Barricade initiated a scan in the immediate area. He sent the results to the MDS, showing Maeve that Jack, and the Charger, were close to their position as they sped ever faster down the freeway. Thankfully, the freeway was starting to clear, albeit slowly.
Maeve hoped that Jack had warned Dispatch at least somewhat of what was occurring on Tranquility's east-west freeway and was keeping the traffic off of it.
The humans sitting in Bumblebee's alt mode were becoming increasingly nervous, their anxiety rising together almost like a storm.
Mikaela had a sinking suspicion that the woman inside the Saleen really was a human, and that Bee wasn't being rational. She also was seeing some serious movement inside the Saleen and a certain weapon's silhouette that made her heart beat faster in agitated panic.
"Uh, Bee, I don't think this is a good idea." Sam whimpered. He was going green as the Camaro continued to nudge, bump and harass the Saleen.
Bumblebee shut them out. Barricade would finally die today. Although he did think it strange that the Decepticon hadn't transformed yet… and why was he being so careful with all the cars around?
Decepticons didn't care about humans, and yet Barricade was using diligent care to avoid them… Bumblebee shook the thoughts from his central processor and accelerated even more as he prepared to hit the Decepticon again.
"Did you contact Optimus at all?" Mikaela asked of Bumblebee. There was no response from the agitated Camaro.
Mikaela rolled her eyes and pulled out her cell phone.
"Fine, if you won't contact him, I will!" She punched in the numbers and pressed the phone to her ear.
"Yes, Mikaela?" Optimus answered the call just as Sam and Mikaela screamed piercingly when Bee smashed into the Saleen particularly hard and they were thrown violently forward from the jarring impact. Both cars spun wildly, their compensators struggling to compute the necessary programs to stay on course. Mikaela's phone dropped to the passenger side's floor.
"Is he freaking insane?" Maeve placed a hand over her bleeding forehead, courtesy of the hit Bumblebee had just given that had propelled her head into the steering wheel.
Barricade was beginning to feel the pain from the repeated hits. If Bumblebee kept up on this, Barricade would sustain far too much damage to transform out of his alt form.
Barricade continued to try to evade the Camaro, but it was becoming difficult with the pain sensors going haywire in his central processor, and the vital warnings his systems were screaming at him.
He scanned the area again, showing that Jack and the Charger were less than a mile away, and there was a faint cell phone signal emanating from the Autobot trying to kill him. He traced it quickly, and with a start realized it was connected to the leader of the Autobots.
Desperate, Barricade uploaded all information of the situation in a datapack, and his personal frequency information with an urgent personal message, to Optimus Prime.
I can't believe I'm doing this. Oh, Primus, let that work, please, Barricade thought to himself frantically. He was certifiably insane now, reaching out to the Autobot LEADER of all bots!
Maeve grabbed the mic again.
::This is your last warning, Bumblebee! You're putting those kids in danger, and all the innocent civilians around you. Other Tranquility PD officers will be here shortly! I will authorize Barricade to use deadly force if you do not stop trying to kill us and those kids you have with you!::
Bumblebee still ignored it all; his focus entirely on the total destruction of the Decepticon in front of him.
Maeve groaned in frustration. This thing just wasn't going to stop trying to kill Barricade, and her.
::Maeve, I can see you guys, what do you need me to do?:: Jack's calm voice echoed through the radio, and Maeve sighed in relief as she clicked the mic over to respond.
::Jack, I need you to get the public out of the way of that homicidal maniac. And make sure the highway is clear ahead of us.::
::Highway in front of you is already cleared, I already called Dispatch for that, but I'll do what I can for those behind you.:: Maeve and Barricade sighed in relief at that; Maeve didn't want any innocents ahead to get hurt and Barricade would feel much better about having to transform and fight if there was no one around to record the evidence of his spark's survival that would most certainly find its way back to Soundwave, Starscream or Megatron. And he didn't need that.
Maeve wiped the still warm blood from her eyes and glanced over; the AR-15 was lying on the passenger seat.
This had to stop.
Now.
"Keep as steady as you can. I'm going for warning shots, not kill shots. Do you understand?" She hissed, and Barricade understood perfectly. The bullets could do some damage to the Camaro, but only minor, they certainly weren't powerful enough to kill a Cybertronian. He knew that she hoped that the shots would at least make Bumblebee think of the humans he carried. Barricade couldn't help but be astonished at the ruthless venom emanating from the Autobot.
Inwardly, however, Barricade still smirked to himself. This type of behavior was predictable from him, not from a sniveling weak Autobot like Bumblebee.
"Bumblebee, you're going to get us killed. STOP, please!" Mikaela pleaded frantically as Sam practically held onto her for dear life. Bumblebee had never put them into this kind of danger before, so seemingly uncaring for their safety, and she was terrified as he settled in to slam the Saleen again.
"What in Primus' name is going on?"
A few hundred miles away, Optimus was instantly concerned as he had heard the screams of Bumblebee's human charges, the transmission from a female police officer who it seemed Bumblebee was trying to kill ruthlessly, and some suspicious noises that sounded like a car slamming into another and… oh for the love of all that was Primus, those were definite bullets being fired from a semi-automatic weapon in the background.
More screams echoed through his com link. A ping advised him of an incoming datapack and a personal frequency for… Decepticon Barricade?
Confusion, concern, suspicion and even fear swirled in his processor.
"Hello? Mikaela? Sam? Bumblebee? SLAG IT, SOMEONE ANSWER ME!" He roared in frustration.
Optimus downloaded the datapack, hoping it would shed some light on what the hell was going on with the young Scout, and then Optimus connected to the personal frequency.
Barricade had made it possible for Optimus to see all that he did. Optimus noted the personal message with increasing fear and concern.
"Your youngling is placing his human charges, and mine, in danger. If he does not stop pursuing us and further places my human charge in danger, I will kill him with no hesitation. A little help would, however, be appreciated, unless you would prefer him to continue acting like myself. It is entirely your choice and in your hands, Prime."
Optimus growled furiously in frustration.
Author's Notes: I do not own Brad Paisley's "Mr. Policeman", or Britney Spears' "Radar", or Sick Puppies' "You're Going Down". I get the feeling I'm missing one, but I can't remember which, so credit goes to whoever I'm missing when it comes to Bee's sound clips.