Fic: Alienated, Chapter 11b
Chapter 11, Part B for your continued reading bliss. Again, this one is edited and hopefully it makes a little more sense as it sits right now.
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About 40 minutes later, minutes later, the quintet pulled into the grimiest, most dilapidated pawn shop Tony had ever seen. It looked like it was a building left over from a missile test the way the paint chipped off the walls and the spackle barely held the holes together. DiNozzo didn’t even want to know how much vermin invested the place, especially considering the pungent odor of urine permeating the entire store.
Walking up to the counter alone, Tony was careful not to touch anything. He wasn’t Nikki Jardine, NCIS’ germaphobe extraordinaire by any means, but even he had standards. Pulling out the charm again, Tony cleared his throat to get the attention of the clerk, who appeared to be more intent on finishing his crossword than helping a potential customer. “Excuse me?”
The clerk looked up. “What?”
“I was told by a friend of mine that you guys dealt with specialty items. I was wondering what you had.”
The clerk grunted. “What kind of specialty? We got a lot of that shit around here.”
DiNozzo looked around the store and suppressed a, ‘Yeah apparently,’ that was tickling the tip of his tongue. The clerk was right about that. They had a lot of special junk. Out loud, he said, “Well, there was this whole battle over at Mission City a couple of months ago. Now, I don’t know about you, but I smell government cover up. Have anything from that?”
The clerk scrutinized DiNozzo for a beat. Then, walking over to locked drawer near the desk, he pulled out an old, beaten up cigar box. Closing the drawer, he ambled back over to Tony’s position on the opposite side of the counter.
“What about this?” The scraggly man held the box out for Tony’s inspection. DiNozzo opened it and peered in. Nestled in a couple of dirty handkerchiefs was an identical piece of alien metal to the chunk pulled out of PO Mitchell.
“Can I pick it up?” DiNozzo asked.
The clerk gestured with one hand. “Knock yerself out.”
DiNozzo reached in and picked up the shard. Rolling it over in his palm, he felt the heaviness of the metal in relation to its small size. The glyphs on the shard were similar to the ones on Mitchell’s shard, and nearly identical to the ones engraved on Optimus’ helmet armor. Setting the shard back down, DiNozzo asked the magic question. “How much?”
The clerk eyed Tony critically again; DiNozzo figured he was probably assessing how much money he could get. “One thousand.”
DiNozzo scoffed. “No way, man. That’s way too steep. Two hundred.“
The clerk looked insulted. “That’s robbery of me. Seven fifty.”
“Are you seriously crazy? I’ll give you three hundred,” Tony countered.
“Still not good enough. Five hundred.”
Tony put the box down and gestured with his hands at the empty store. “Hey, this place ain’t exactly hopping. I would think you’d hate to let a sale walk. Three fifty.”
The clerk narrowed his eyes at DiNozzo. “Four hundred, and not a penny less.”
Tony smiled. “Deal.”
DiNozzo dug out his cash and paid for the item. He stood up and was infinitely glad the clerk didn’t extend his hand for a handshake. Walking out, he passed dark haired well-built man on the way in. The two tried to go through the door at the same time, the size of the door prohibiting such an action. Bumping shoulders, the man glared at DiNozzo, his brown eyes looking nearly red in the reflection of the sun.
Tony grabbed the man’s shoulders and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, man! I guess I need to watch where I’m going!” Receiving nothing but a grunt of irritation from the fellow patron, Tony whistled happily as he walked out the door. The group pulled out of the lot and back on to the freeway towards NEST. As he settled back into Skids’ alt mode, Tony found the green beat had already opened a channel to his brother. Ziva’s voice wafted through the speakers.
“Did you get it?”
“Yep. All snug and sound from the most disgusting pawn shop I have ever had the displeasure of being in,” DiNozzo answered. Shifting, he asked, “Hey Ziva, ask our good Lieutenant how much the guy gave him for this piece of metal. I want to know if I got a good deal.”
DiNozzo heard some grumbling, then Ziva’s voice came back over the comm. “He said he got $250 for it.”
Tony scowled. “So the guy just about doubled his money off me. I paid $400. That’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t know, Tony. For a pawn shop, I thought that was pretty good, yes?
“Yeah, but I’m better than that.” Stopping in mid thought, DiNozzo asked, “Hey Ziva, can tweedledee hear me right now?”
Vehement cursing was his response.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, because he can, I have something to say. Rainer, I didn’t think the Academy produced midshipmen as dumb as you apparently are. You sold the end of the world for $250? You are truly an embarrassment to the Navy and the Academy,” Tony scolded.
“How the hell was I supposed to know that little piece of metal could end the world?” Rainer’s indignant voice came back over the comm line.
“See, that’s why stuff is classified. It’s to keep dumbasses like you from screwing things up!” Tony answered. While he was in the shop, Ziva had elected to stay behind to babysit their wayward Lieutenant and to watch for any hostile action. DiNozzo assumed she must have explained as much as she was allowed about the shards and the Autobots.
In Mudflap’s alt mode, Ziva picked up her phone, hit speed dial number one, and waited for Gibbs to pick up. Hearing Gibbs’ famous greeting, DiNozzo responded, “Gibbs, we found Rainer, we recovered his shard and we will be returning to base tonight with him right now.”
“Good. He give you any trouble, Ziva?”
The Mossad operative glanced over her shoulder into the back seat of Mudflap’s Trax. Rainer was literally tied to the bench seat, handcuffed and very annoyed. Smiling, Ziva said, “None at all. He has been behaving himself.”
“That’s good. Ziva listen, don’t come back to the base.”
“Why not, Gibbs?”
“Remember that jet McGee briefed us all on? The one that killed the car who tried to kill McGee? We think he is after those shards, too. That’s probably why he didn’t squish us at Nesbitt Lake when he had the chance,” Gibbs said. In the background, she could hear the high-pitched whine of turbos from a diesel engine, probably Optimus. “Prime is sending the same information to Skids and Mudflap right now. We’re on our way to a different meeting site.”
Ziva shifted the phone into her left hand. “What do you know?”
“Get the info from the twins. Prime said he’s done talking with them now.”
“I will do that.”
Hanging up her phone, Ziva spoke into Mudflap’s cabin, knowing the twin had a connection open to his brother. “Tony, did you hear that?”
“I did. What’s the plan, boys?” DiNozzo asked.
Skids’ voice came through the speakers. “Prime said he gonna meet us all northwest of here and we gon’ see what’s up.”
Ziva nodded her head. “That sounds like a plan to me. How far is it?”
“We’re gonna be there in about a half hour,” Mudflap replied. Ziva had to remind herself they had a direct connection to the internet, and therefore could really never be lost.
“Good. Tony? Did you hear that part, too?” she asked.
“Yeah I did, but I think we have a bigger problem, Ziva.”
“And that is?”
“I think there’s a jet following us.”
Both the Trax and the Beat floored their accelerators, throwing their human cargo around the small cabs. DiNozzo and David both righted themselves when the speed evened out. “I guess we’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” DiNozzo mumbled. “I think these guys learned driving from Gibbs.”
Turning serious for the first time since Tony had the pleasure of their meeting, Skids replied, “DiNozzo, if our scans be right, that jet hoverin’ above us is Starscream, and you’d better hope he don’t wanna play.”
As a non-verbal answer, Starscream dropped in low and made a high speed pass over the small convoy. The jetwash from the engines vibrated the twins’ alt modes when Starscream pulled up hard to circle back around.
Ziva could hear literally Mudflap roll his eyes. “’O course he want to play. Let’s go shoot at the little ‘bots. Can’t pick on nobody his own size, so he gotta come after us. Well, I AIN’T HAVIN’ THAT SHIT! Skids! Time to do what we do!”
“That’s right, Mudflap! Keep this pit-spawned piece of Decepti-slag guessin’! He can’t hit what he can’t catch!” Skids yelled happily. The two vehicles began an intricate weave pattern, similar to that used by soldiers crossing open fields while under enemy fire. The cars sped up and slowed down at no particular interval to keep Starscream on his toes, and zigged and zagged enough to make Muhammed Ali proud.
The booms of missiles and pops of bullets each exploding off the ground around them rang in the ears of the three humans. Rainer shrieked pitifully in the back seat, all his macho cockiness of earlier completely gone. Not blessed with internal chronometers, Ziva and Tony could only guess as to how much longer they would have to endure hell before they reached their destination, and with that, help from some bigger guns. Both spun in their respective driver’s seats, looking forward backwards and sideways for the position of their F-22 adversary.
After what felt like eons, a small bluff came into view.
“We ain’t got too much farther to go! Just over that ridge thing is where we be meetin’ the big guns. Prime says he and ol’ Ironhide are fifteen mintues away,” Skids informed as he pulled yet another evasive maneuver to narrowly avoid a volley of 20 millimeter fire.
Tony swiveled his head nervously. “That might be fourteen minutes too late, Skids!” The jet’s accuracy was improving with every shot, and truthfully DiNozzo was concerned how much longer the twins would be able to avoid the heavy bombardment from the enemy seeker. His thoughts were interrupted as a huge plume of dirt and debris exploded directly in front of Skids’ windshield. Digging his fingers in the seat as much as he dared, Tony waited for the seeker to inevitably find his range.
Skids and Mudflap both executed perfect power slides around the side of the bluff. As soon as their human cargo was shielded from Starscream’s attack, the twins dumped their passengers out. Transforming, they readied their weapons and moved into a defensive position over their human charges.
Starscream transformed and dropped down to the desert floor. His optics bounced from Skids to Ziva, then to Dinozzo and Mudflap, and finally settled on Rainer. Extending one claw, he rasped, “I’m not here for any one of you. All I want is him, and something very important I know he has.”
‘He just wants the shard.’ Gibbs’ words rang in her head as she analyzed the small team’s present situation. Deciding to take her chances, Ziva took a hesitant step forward and raised one finger into the air. “And who are you, exactly?”
Starscream leaned down further to put his head closer to Ziva’s level. Skids and Mudflap bristled at the threat, but stopped when Ziva held out her hand. “I see your good Lieutenant hasn’t told you everything. Typical. He held out on me, too. I suppose I should have just killed him.”
DiNozzo was confused. Starscream just said that he'd met Rainer? “Okay. I don’t get it! Someone needs to explain.”
Rainer looked as if he was truly about to lose his mind. “I told you? I held out on you? I’ve never met you before and I think I damn well would have remembered that!”
“Oh, but you have, and you were so eager then. So cocky, fleshling. Maybe this will help.” Starscream’s condescending tone cut off as the jet transformed again. In his alt mode, a human visage wavered into place in front of the humans and Autobots twins.
DiNozzo’s eyes widened, though he made no other move that might give away his recognition of the person in front of him. Starscream’s holoform was the man with whom he’d bumped shoulders at entrance to the pawn shop just a few minutes earlier. Leaning over to Ziva, DiNozzo quickly explained what happened.
“Oh shit,” Rainer squeaked.
“You remember me now, don’t you boy?”
“Something you’re not telling us, Lieutenant, because now would be a really good time,” Tony whispered from behind Rainer’s back.
“Yes, by all means, Lieutenant. Please tell us so I can kill you and be on my way.” Starscream added, “And I must thank you for your intel on your man Mitchell. It was very useful, or at least I thought it was.”
At the rate they were widening, Rainer’s eyes looked as if they would pop out of his head at any moment at the same time his heart plummeted in his chest. He correctly guessed Mitchell was dead, and knew deep down it was his fault. Otherwise, there would be no reason for NCIS to be looking for him, and he wouldn't be standing in front of alien robot that moonlighted as an F-22. Thinking back on his conversations with the "man" in front of him, Rainer recalled he'd accidentally slipped during one such correspondence. At the time, he'd thought nothing of it. Now he knew differently.
Rainer had erroneously stated that the shard was not in his possession, but in the hands of someone from his cruise. The person he told, Starscream's holoform, must have put two and two together and figured out Mitchell was the one with the goods. Obviously, the seeker hadn't recovered it even if he had killed Mitchell, but PO Mitchell was dead all the same. Though Mark Rainer was an arrogant, cocky asshole, he wasn’t a murderer, and having the blood of another on his hands was more than his overtaxed conscience could handle. Time for some damage control. “I don’t know anything, man! Look, all I know is what that crypto Mitchell told me! He said he blackmailed one of the MPs to let him in the hold and dig around in that buddy of yours. What was his name again? Megavolt?”
Starscream very nearly rolled his optics. “Megatron, and he was not my ‘buddy’. Now, I know you found something inside him. Otherwise you wouldn’t have contacted me.”
DiNozzo shoved Rainer. “You contacted him? What’s wrong with you?”
“I didn’t know, you idiot!” Turning his attention, Rainer pleaded to Starscream. “I don’t have anything. I was never even in the hold where the Navy had your - Megatron. I only knew what Mitchell had, and I thought maybe I could get one over on him by dumping the information for a trade of cash.”
Though Ziva had to repeatedly stop herself from making sure Rainer would physically lack the sufficient equipment to breed for the rest of his lifetime, she had to commend his ability to think on his feet. Perhaps, she mused, something from his training as a combat chopper pilot had stuck if he had been able to formulate a lie so smoothly. That, or he did it often, which would mean that dishonesty was second nature. Personally, Ziva thought it was probably the latter, but if his bluff worked, it might just save their lives.
Starscream was stuck between a rock and a hard place. When the fleshling before him had made contact those months previous, the man was always very elusive concerning his information. In fact, Starscream wasn’t even sure if the Lieutenant even had a piece of the Allspark, or if he was just peddling information as he had now claimed. And because the seeker was genuinely unsure, he couldn’t simply kill Rainer and those two irritating Autobots with him. He had to find out what, if anything, they knew.
And then he would kill them.
“Fleshling, I am losing my patience with you. What do you know of the Allspark?” Starscream practically oozed coolant when he thought about the total domination that would be his when he obtained his shard. He had planned to use it as Megatron had hoped: to raise an army, though the Air Commander knew he’d been an infinitely better leader.
Rainer nearly peed his pants. “I told you everything I know! Mitchell had the shard, and I was just out looking to make a quick buck!”
“Then why were you in a pawn shop with,” Starscream paused to scan and run a search on Tony and Ziva’s badges, “NCIS agents if you have nothing?”
“I was trying to pawn my watch and wedding ring, and I got caught there by these two.” Rainer motioned to Ziva and Tony. “I’m in some serious debt with the tables, and I’m also overdue from leave. I was supposed to report back to the ship a week ago,” the Lieutenant responded, the air literally deflating from his body. “These guys were here to drag me back to the Navy. Or to prison, which at this point, sounds preferable.”
Starscream growled in frustration. He knew the human was hiding something, but he also knew it would do no good just to kill him now. Some investigation with the Garnet locals had led him to the dingy pawn shop, but had yielded no results. The store’s lone employee was too busy reading his newspaper to even bother to look up. Starscream took one lap of the store, found nothing of interest, and turned around and left with not even a single word to the human. Settling his gaze back to Rainer, Starscream tipped his head. His blood red optics burned into the Lieutenant's eyes, issuing a silent challenge.
Rainer threw up his hands at Starscream’s venomous snarl. “Dude! I told you everything I know. Mitchell had the lone shard of the Allspark or whatever the hell you called it, and he was already talking to someone to buy it. He and I had been in contact with each other, but I really didn’t have anything of value to trade. I just thought I could create a little competition for him, and maybe get lucky.”
“Where is Mitchell now?”
“He’s dead. Killed by your Decepticon buddy,” Tony answered. “Actually, you wouldn’t mind telling us how he died, would you because we're not really sure.”
Starscream clamped down the urge to separate the squishies’ heads from their shoulders. When he’d offlined Barricade in the desert earlier in the week, he’d been careful to check for any signs of Allspark shards. He’d found none, and the lack of evidence of the shards frustrated him. After taking out Barricade, Starscream thought Mitchell had the shard, he knew Mitchell was dead, and he knew that Barricade had killed the Petty Officer accidentally. He just couldn't figure out where the shard went between the time Mitchell died and when he'd offlined Barricade. Knowing he was quickly running out of options, Starscream made a move toward Rainer. Maybe a missing leg or arm would be a better way to jog his memory.
Tony sensed the rising agitation from the large seeker. DiNozzo turned and glanced behind him to see if there was better cover available if they had to make a break for it. Instead, his eyes met the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Coming up fast and hard was Ironhide and Optimus, both Autobots with their transformation sequences beginning to engage.
“Down!” DiNozzo hollered, pulling Ziva to the sand with him and Rainer, still in his handcuffs, quickly followed suit. Skids and Mudflap, who’d been mercifully silent though the entire ordeal, opened fire with all they had in hopes of distracting Starscream long enough for Prime and Ironhide to target and fire.
Repeating almost exactly the same maneuver he pulled in Mission City, Ironhide transformed on the move and fired before all his armor was fully in place. His twin missiles left a trail of smoke in their wake, one scoring a direct hit to the Decepticon Air Commander’s right wing, and the other sailing just a few feet wide to the left.
Optimus dropped Gibbs to the sand and transformed next to his weapons specialist, his battle mask sliding into place as he grabbed the rifle strapped to his back and locked it on the Decepticon seeker. Skids and Mudflap flanked their commanders, all four ready for a firefight.
Starscream analyzed his outnumbered and completely exposes position. He knew it would be a futile battle, and did what he knew: he ran. Transforming into his jet mode, the Seeker pulled up hard and fast as soon as he was airborne. In seconds, he was nothing but a spec on radar.
“Permission to shoot him down, drag him back here and kick him as hard as I can in the nosecone, Prime,” Ironhide growled, his cannons nearly shaking on his arms.
Optimus cycled his vents. “Negative. Stand down. We’ve done what we can, and we both know Starscream is halfway to Mars right now.”
Gibbs strolled up to DiNozzo and David. “You two want to tell me what happened?”
Tony smiled while Ziva handed over the piece of shard the NCIS agents had procured from the pawn shop to Lennox. “Sure boss, but first can we get back in the air conditioning? It’s hot out here!”
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Click to go on to part 11c
Click to go back to part 11a
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About 40 minutes later, minutes later, the quintet pulled into the grimiest, most dilapidated pawn shop Tony had ever seen. It looked like it was a building left over from a missile test the way the paint chipped off the walls and the spackle barely held the holes together. DiNozzo didn’t even want to know how much vermin invested the place, especially considering the pungent odor of urine permeating the entire store.
Walking up to the counter alone, Tony was careful not to touch anything. He wasn’t Nikki Jardine, NCIS’ germaphobe extraordinaire by any means, but even he had standards. Pulling out the charm again, Tony cleared his throat to get the attention of the clerk, who appeared to be more intent on finishing his crossword than helping a potential customer. “Excuse me?”
The clerk looked up. “What?”
“I was told by a friend of mine that you guys dealt with specialty items. I was wondering what you had.”
The clerk grunted. “What kind of specialty? We got a lot of that shit around here.”
DiNozzo looked around the store and suppressed a, ‘Yeah apparently,’ that was tickling the tip of his tongue. The clerk was right about that. They had a lot of special junk. Out loud, he said, “Well, there was this whole battle over at Mission City a couple of months ago. Now, I don’t know about you, but I smell government cover up. Have anything from that?”
The clerk scrutinized DiNozzo for a beat. Then, walking over to locked drawer near the desk, he pulled out an old, beaten up cigar box. Closing the drawer, he ambled back over to Tony’s position on the opposite side of the counter.
“What about this?” The scraggly man held the box out for Tony’s inspection. DiNozzo opened it and peered in. Nestled in a couple of dirty handkerchiefs was an identical piece of alien metal to the chunk pulled out of PO Mitchell.
“Can I pick it up?” DiNozzo asked.
The clerk gestured with one hand. “Knock yerself out.”
DiNozzo reached in and picked up the shard. Rolling it over in his palm, he felt the heaviness of the metal in relation to its small size. The glyphs on the shard were similar to the ones on Mitchell’s shard, and nearly identical to the ones engraved on Optimus’ helmet armor. Setting the shard back down, DiNozzo asked the magic question. “How much?”
The clerk eyed Tony critically again; DiNozzo figured he was probably assessing how much money he could get. “One thousand.”
DiNozzo scoffed. “No way, man. That’s way too steep. Two hundred.“
The clerk looked insulted. “That’s robbery of me. Seven fifty.”
“Are you seriously crazy? I’ll give you three hundred,” Tony countered.
“Still not good enough. Five hundred.”
Tony put the box down and gestured with his hands at the empty store. “Hey, this place ain’t exactly hopping. I would think you’d hate to let a sale walk. Three fifty.”
The clerk narrowed his eyes at DiNozzo. “Four hundred, and not a penny less.”
Tony smiled. “Deal.”
DiNozzo dug out his cash and paid for the item. He stood up and was infinitely glad the clerk didn’t extend his hand for a handshake. Walking out, he passed dark haired well-built man on the way in. The two tried to go through the door at the same time, the size of the door prohibiting such an action. Bumping shoulders, the man glared at DiNozzo, his brown eyes looking nearly red in the reflection of the sun.
Tony grabbed the man’s shoulders and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, man! I guess I need to watch where I’m going!” Receiving nothing but a grunt of irritation from the fellow patron, Tony whistled happily as he walked out the door. The group pulled out of the lot and back on to the freeway towards NEST. As he settled back into Skids’ alt mode, Tony found the green beat had already opened a channel to his brother. Ziva’s voice wafted through the speakers.
“Did you get it?”
“Yep. All snug and sound from the most disgusting pawn shop I have ever had the displeasure of being in,” DiNozzo answered. Shifting, he asked, “Hey Ziva, ask our good Lieutenant how much the guy gave him for this piece of metal. I want to know if I got a good deal.”
DiNozzo heard some grumbling, then Ziva’s voice came back over the comm. “He said he got $250 for it.”
Tony scowled. “So the guy just about doubled his money off me. I paid $400. That’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t know, Tony. For a pawn shop, I thought that was pretty good, yes?
“Yeah, but I’m better than that.” Stopping in mid thought, DiNozzo asked, “Hey Ziva, can tweedledee hear me right now?”
Vehement cursing was his response.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, because he can, I have something to say. Rainer, I didn’t think the Academy produced midshipmen as dumb as you apparently are. You sold the end of the world for $250? You are truly an embarrassment to the Navy and the Academy,” Tony scolded.
“How the hell was I supposed to know that little piece of metal could end the world?” Rainer’s indignant voice came back over the comm line.
“See, that’s why stuff is classified. It’s to keep dumbasses like you from screwing things up!” Tony answered. While he was in the shop, Ziva had elected to stay behind to babysit their wayward Lieutenant and to watch for any hostile action. DiNozzo assumed she must have explained as much as she was allowed about the shards and the Autobots.
In Mudflap’s alt mode, Ziva picked up her phone, hit speed dial number one, and waited for Gibbs to pick up. Hearing Gibbs’ famous greeting, DiNozzo responded, “Gibbs, we found Rainer, we recovered his shard and we will be returning to base tonight with him right now.”
“Good. He give you any trouble, Ziva?”
The Mossad operative glanced over her shoulder into the back seat of Mudflap’s Trax. Rainer was literally tied to the bench seat, handcuffed and very annoyed. Smiling, Ziva said, “None at all. He has been behaving himself.”
“That’s good. Ziva listen, don’t come back to the base.”
“Why not, Gibbs?”
“Remember that jet McGee briefed us all on? The one that killed the car who tried to kill McGee? We think he is after those shards, too. That’s probably why he didn’t squish us at Nesbitt Lake when he had the chance,” Gibbs said. In the background, she could hear the high-pitched whine of turbos from a diesel engine, probably Optimus. “Prime is sending the same information to Skids and Mudflap right now. We’re on our way to a different meeting site.”
Ziva shifted the phone into her left hand. “What do you know?”
“Get the info from the twins. Prime said he’s done talking with them now.”
“I will do that.”
Hanging up her phone, Ziva spoke into Mudflap’s cabin, knowing the twin had a connection open to his brother. “Tony, did you hear that?”
“I did. What’s the plan, boys?” DiNozzo asked.
Skids’ voice came through the speakers. “Prime said he gonna meet us all northwest of here and we gon’ see what’s up.”
Ziva nodded her head. “That sounds like a plan to me. How far is it?”
“We’re gonna be there in about a half hour,” Mudflap replied. Ziva had to remind herself they had a direct connection to the internet, and therefore could really never be lost.
“Good. Tony? Did you hear that part, too?” she asked.
“Yeah I did, but I think we have a bigger problem, Ziva.”
“And that is?”
“I think there’s a jet following us.”
Both the Trax and the Beat floored their accelerators, throwing their human cargo around the small cabs. DiNozzo and David both righted themselves when the speed evened out. “I guess we’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” DiNozzo mumbled. “I think these guys learned driving from Gibbs.”
Turning serious for the first time since Tony had the pleasure of their meeting, Skids replied, “DiNozzo, if our scans be right, that jet hoverin’ above us is Starscream, and you’d better hope he don’t wanna play.”
As a non-verbal answer, Starscream dropped in low and made a high speed pass over the small convoy. The jetwash from the engines vibrated the twins’ alt modes when Starscream pulled up hard to circle back around.
Ziva could hear literally Mudflap roll his eyes. “’O course he want to play. Let’s go shoot at the little ‘bots. Can’t pick on nobody his own size, so he gotta come after us. Well, I AIN’T HAVIN’ THAT SHIT! Skids! Time to do what we do!”
“That’s right, Mudflap! Keep this pit-spawned piece of Decepti-slag guessin’! He can’t hit what he can’t catch!” Skids yelled happily. The two vehicles began an intricate weave pattern, similar to that used by soldiers crossing open fields while under enemy fire. The cars sped up and slowed down at no particular interval to keep Starscream on his toes, and zigged and zagged enough to make Muhammed Ali proud.
The booms of missiles and pops of bullets each exploding off the ground around them rang in the ears of the three humans. Rainer shrieked pitifully in the back seat, all his macho cockiness of earlier completely gone. Not blessed with internal chronometers, Ziva and Tony could only guess as to how much longer they would have to endure hell before they reached their destination, and with that, help from some bigger guns. Both spun in their respective driver’s seats, looking forward backwards and sideways for the position of their F-22 adversary.
After what felt like eons, a small bluff came into view.
“We ain’t got too much farther to go! Just over that ridge thing is where we be meetin’ the big guns. Prime says he and ol’ Ironhide are fifteen mintues away,” Skids informed as he pulled yet another evasive maneuver to narrowly avoid a volley of 20 millimeter fire.
Tony swiveled his head nervously. “That might be fourteen minutes too late, Skids!” The jet’s accuracy was improving with every shot, and truthfully DiNozzo was concerned how much longer the twins would be able to avoid the heavy bombardment from the enemy seeker. His thoughts were interrupted as a huge plume of dirt and debris exploded directly in front of Skids’ windshield. Digging his fingers in the seat as much as he dared, Tony waited for the seeker to inevitably find his range.
Skids and Mudflap both executed perfect power slides around the side of the bluff. As soon as their human cargo was shielded from Starscream’s attack, the twins dumped their passengers out. Transforming, they readied their weapons and moved into a defensive position over their human charges.
Starscream transformed and dropped down to the desert floor. His optics bounced from Skids to Ziva, then to Dinozzo and Mudflap, and finally settled on Rainer. Extending one claw, he rasped, “I’m not here for any one of you. All I want is him, and something very important I know he has.”
‘He just wants the shard.’ Gibbs’ words rang in her head as she analyzed the small team’s present situation. Deciding to take her chances, Ziva took a hesitant step forward and raised one finger into the air. “And who are you, exactly?”
Starscream leaned down further to put his head closer to Ziva’s level. Skids and Mudflap bristled at the threat, but stopped when Ziva held out her hand. “I see your good Lieutenant hasn’t told you everything. Typical. He held out on me, too. I suppose I should have just killed him.”
DiNozzo was confused. Starscream just said that he'd met Rainer? “Okay. I don’t get it! Someone needs to explain.”
Rainer looked as if he was truly about to lose his mind. “I told you? I held out on you? I’ve never met you before and I think I damn well would have remembered that!”
“Oh, but you have, and you were so eager then. So cocky, fleshling. Maybe this will help.” Starscream’s condescending tone cut off as the jet transformed again. In his alt mode, a human visage wavered into place in front of the humans and Autobots twins.
DiNozzo’s eyes widened, though he made no other move that might give away his recognition of the person in front of him. Starscream’s holoform was the man with whom he’d bumped shoulders at entrance to the pawn shop just a few minutes earlier. Leaning over to Ziva, DiNozzo quickly explained what happened.
“Oh shit,” Rainer squeaked.
“You remember me now, don’t you boy?”
“Something you’re not telling us, Lieutenant, because now would be a really good time,” Tony whispered from behind Rainer’s back.
“Yes, by all means, Lieutenant. Please tell us so I can kill you and be on my way.” Starscream added, “And I must thank you for your intel on your man Mitchell. It was very useful, or at least I thought it was.”
At the rate they were widening, Rainer’s eyes looked as if they would pop out of his head at any moment at the same time his heart plummeted in his chest. He correctly guessed Mitchell was dead, and knew deep down it was his fault. Otherwise, there would be no reason for NCIS to be looking for him, and he wouldn't be standing in front of alien robot that moonlighted as an F-22. Thinking back on his conversations with the "man" in front of him, Rainer recalled he'd accidentally slipped during one such correspondence. At the time, he'd thought nothing of it. Now he knew differently.
Rainer had erroneously stated that the shard was not in his possession, but in the hands of someone from his cruise. The person he told, Starscream's holoform, must have put two and two together and figured out Mitchell was the one with the goods. Obviously, the seeker hadn't recovered it even if he had killed Mitchell, but PO Mitchell was dead all the same. Though Mark Rainer was an arrogant, cocky asshole, he wasn’t a murderer, and having the blood of another on his hands was more than his overtaxed conscience could handle. Time for some damage control. “I don’t know anything, man! Look, all I know is what that crypto Mitchell told me! He said he blackmailed one of the MPs to let him in the hold and dig around in that buddy of yours. What was his name again? Megavolt?”
Starscream very nearly rolled his optics. “Megatron, and he was not my ‘buddy’. Now, I know you found something inside him. Otherwise you wouldn’t have contacted me.”
DiNozzo shoved Rainer. “You contacted him? What’s wrong with you?”
“I didn’t know, you idiot!” Turning his attention, Rainer pleaded to Starscream. “I don’t have anything. I was never even in the hold where the Navy had your - Megatron. I only knew what Mitchell had, and I thought maybe I could get one over on him by dumping the information for a trade of cash.”
Though Ziva had to repeatedly stop herself from making sure Rainer would physically lack the sufficient equipment to breed for the rest of his lifetime, she had to commend his ability to think on his feet. Perhaps, she mused, something from his training as a combat chopper pilot had stuck if he had been able to formulate a lie so smoothly. That, or he did it often, which would mean that dishonesty was second nature. Personally, Ziva thought it was probably the latter, but if his bluff worked, it might just save their lives.
Starscream was stuck between a rock and a hard place. When the fleshling before him had made contact those months previous, the man was always very elusive concerning his information. In fact, Starscream wasn’t even sure if the Lieutenant even had a piece of the Allspark, or if he was just peddling information as he had now claimed. And because the seeker was genuinely unsure, he couldn’t simply kill Rainer and those two irritating Autobots with him. He had to find out what, if anything, they knew.
And then he would kill them.
“Fleshling, I am losing my patience with you. What do you know of the Allspark?” Starscream practically oozed coolant when he thought about the total domination that would be his when he obtained his shard. He had planned to use it as Megatron had hoped: to raise an army, though the Air Commander knew he’d been an infinitely better leader.
Rainer nearly peed his pants. “I told you everything I know! Mitchell had the shard, and I was just out looking to make a quick buck!”
“Then why were you in a pawn shop with,” Starscream paused to scan and run a search on Tony and Ziva’s badges, “NCIS agents if you have nothing?”
“I was trying to pawn my watch and wedding ring, and I got caught there by these two.” Rainer motioned to Ziva and Tony. “I’m in some serious debt with the tables, and I’m also overdue from leave. I was supposed to report back to the ship a week ago,” the Lieutenant responded, the air literally deflating from his body. “These guys were here to drag me back to the Navy. Or to prison, which at this point, sounds preferable.”
Starscream growled in frustration. He knew the human was hiding something, but he also knew it would do no good just to kill him now. Some investigation with the Garnet locals had led him to the dingy pawn shop, but had yielded no results. The store’s lone employee was too busy reading his newspaper to even bother to look up. Starscream took one lap of the store, found nothing of interest, and turned around and left with not even a single word to the human. Settling his gaze back to Rainer, Starscream tipped his head. His blood red optics burned into the Lieutenant's eyes, issuing a silent challenge.
Rainer threw up his hands at Starscream’s venomous snarl. “Dude! I told you everything I know. Mitchell had the lone shard of the Allspark or whatever the hell you called it, and he was already talking to someone to buy it. He and I had been in contact with each other, but I really didn’t have anything of value to trade. I just thought I could create a little competition for him, and maybe get lucky.”
“Where is Mitchell now?”
“He’s dead. Killed by your Decepticon buddy,” Tony answered. “Actually, you wouldn’t mind telling us how he died, would you because we're not really sure.”
Starscream clamped down the urge to separate the squishies’ heads from their shoulders. When he’d offlined Barricade in the desert earlier in the week, he’d been careful to check for any signs of Allspark shards. He’d found none, and the lack of evidence of the shards frustrated him. After taking out Barricade, Starscream thought Mitchell had the shard, he knew Mitchell was dead, and he knew that Barricade had killed the Petty Officer accidentally. He just couldn't figure out where the shard went between the time Mitchell died and when he'd offlined Barricade. Knowing he was quickly running out of options, Starscream made a move toward Rainer. Maybe a missing leg or arm would be a better way to jog his memory.
Tony sensed the rising agitation from the large seeker. DiNozzo turned and glanced behind him to see if there was better cover available if they had to make a break for it. Instead, his eyes met the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Coming up fast and hard was Ironhide and Optimus, both Autobots with their transformation sequences beginning to engage.
“Down!” DiNozzo hollered, pulling Ziva to the sand with him and Rainer, still in his handcuffs, quickly followed suit. Skids and Mudflap, who’d been mercifully silent though the entire ordeal, opened fire with all they had in hopes of distracting Starscream long enough for Prime and Ironhide to target and fire.
Repeating almost exactly the same maneuver he pulled in Mission City, Ironhide transformed on the move and fired before all his armor was fully in place. His twin missiles left a trail of smoke in their wake, one scoring a direct hit to the Decepticon Air Commander’s right wing, and the other sailing just a few feet wide to the left.
Optimus dropped Gibbs to the sand and transformed next to his weapons specialist, his battle mask sliding into place as he grabbed the rifle strapped to his back and locked it on the Decepticon seeker. Skids and Mudflap flanked their commanders, all four ready for a firefight.
Starscream analyzed his outnumbered and completely exposes position. He knew it would be a futile battle, and did what he knew: he ran. Transforming into his jet mode, the Seeker pulled up hard and fast as soon as he was airborne. In seconds, he was nothing but a spec on radar.
“Permission to shoot him down, drag him back here and kick him as hard as I can in the nosecone, Prime,” Ironhide growled, his cannons nearly shaking on his arms.
Optimus cycled his vents. “Negative. Stand down. We’ve done what we can, and we both know Starscream is halfway to Mars right now.”
Gibbs strolled up to DiNozzo and David. “You two want to tell me what happened?”
Tony smiled while Ziva handed over the piece of shard the NCIS agents had procured from the pawn shop to Lennox. “Sure boss, but first can we get back in the air conditioning? It’s hot out here!”
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