Fic: Smoke and Mirrors, Secrets and Lies 3/?
TITLE: Smoke and Mirrors, Secrets and Lies, part 3
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
WHO TO BLAME: Sapphire! It only took one weekend to work this out, two weeks later the story was written out as a rough draft. Darn bunnies!
"If he’s a Con, which is highly likely, he wouldn’t crawl into a garage and
hide. He might take the human hostage, though."
Iron Man freed himself of the banner and growled to himself for such stupidity. He quickly scanned for Rodimus and the Decepticon, then cursed. The Con was fleeing and Roddy was down, something sticking out of his mid-section between two armor plates.
He shot toward the prone form and scanned, assessing the situation. Behind him the building was creaking and groaning under stress and the howl of the fire engines and police echoed in the night.
::Nothing vital hit:: he sent, looking into the bright blue optics that spoke of pain. ::I can pull it out::
::Do it:: Rodimus replied, sounding strained. ::We need to leave::
And so he did. The stick was about the size of an eight by eight. A small stick compared to a large mechanical body like Rodimus, but it had hit the spot and it had paralyzed the young Prime.
Iron Man pulled. The stick came loose with a scraping noise and Iron Man flung it aside. Rodimus groaned softly and rolled onto the side, pushing himself up. Energon trickled out of the wound, but it wasn’t much. Repair programs were already firing up.
“Who was that guy?” Iron Man asked.
He looked a little singed, but he had had a lot worse from friendly fire.
“I have no clue. The signal’s gone, too.”
Tony grinned behind the face shield. “But not far enough to avoid satellite tracking.”
Rodimus blinked slowly, then smiled as well. Extremis at its best.
“He’s currently headed south. Doesn’t look like some panicky flight, but he’s not really stopping for the sights either,” Tony reported, sounding a bit distant as he was logged onto the satellite.
“Keep tracking,” Rodimus ordered and transformed, heading away.
Iron Man followed, launching himself straight into the night sky and away from prying eyes. In the commotion of fire fighters and police, Rodimus easily slipped away.
::He changed outfits:: Tony reported. ::Mid-drive. Never saw that happen::
The young Prime chuckled. ::We’re versatile::
::That sounds so dirty, Roddy.::
::Only to you::
::Hm::
::What?::
::I’m not sure. I think he enabled a hologram. He has a driver::
Rodimus thought for a moment, then just stored that information away. Right now they needed to know where the Decepticon was going first. And he also needed to contact Prime about the enemy encounter.
*
Ten minutes later Iron Man cursed himself as he quickly went through all kinds of surveillance satellites and came up empty. The attacker had lost him!
::Blaster? This is Iron Man:: he contacted their eye in the sky.
::Blaster blastin’:: came the jovial reply. ::What can I do for you?::
Tony relayed the last image of the Shelby and his last position. ::Can you do a city-wide search for all Shelbys?::
::Will take a while and it’s not one hundred percent. He’s hiding his signature again, so we’re poking around in the dark::
::Yeah, well, we might hit something::
::Gotcha::
Iron Man landed next to where Rodimus had parked himself. “Now what?” he asked.
“I’ve been going through the registrations for the LA car show,” Rodimus told him. “And I informed Banachek and Optimus. About the havoc at the car show.”
Tony grimaced behind his mask. “Yeah. That. Hope our insurance is paid for.”
Rodimus chuckled. “Anyway. The car we’re chasing is registered to a Raoul Vega.”
“He’s officially registered?”
“Yep. Has been ever since Mr. Vega received his driver’s license, which was six years ago. Mr. Vega is the owner of Body Works, an auto shop.”
“So we check out the auto shop? You really think he would run there?”
“Who knows?”
Tony was doubtful. “If he’s a Con, which is highly likely, he wouldn’t crawl into a garage and
hide. He might take the human hostage, though.”
“Could be. So we check out the auto shop.”
The Iron Man armor disappeared and Tony got into the R8, then they drove off.
* * *
It had been a reaction out of pure panic. Drift had been among humans too long to really react like a Decepticon any more. He had at first zig-zagged across town, then snuck back to Raoul’s place. He used the automatic garage door opener to slip inside. His driver had been silent, just frowning at him, and Drift knew he owed him an apology.
As he parked in his usual space, Raoul leaned back, arms crossed, glaring.
“Care to explain now?” he asked acidly.
“We have a problem,” Drift blurted. “The Autobots found me.”
“What?!” Raoul sat up straight. “How?!”
“I… I made a mess. And I had to incapacitate him. I’m not sure I wasn’t followed, though I picked up no one. Raoul, I have to leave.”
“What? Wait, wait, wait… no! You’re not running!”
“It’s all I can do!”
“Drift, deep breaths!”
“I don’t breathe.”
“Stop splitting hairs.” Raoul scrubbed a hand over his face. “I need coffee. You - wait.”
He got out of the car and headed for the kitchen. Five minutes later Raoul was sitting on a stack of tires, drinking instant. Drift was telling him what had happened and Raoul listened intently.
“You think they’ll find you again?”
“Probably.”
“Even though you changed your outfit?”
“They know I’m here. They won’t just give up. They’ll keep looking and they’ll find me. Raoul, if they track your shop… I was the exhibit!”
Raoul nodded. “Okay. Gotcha. Not safe here.” He paced. “And neither am I. I don’t know those guys, but they probably won’t believe me if I tell them I never noticed anything with you, huh?”
“Probably.”
“Then we’ll shut down and hit the road.”
“Raoul, no.”
“You think after ten years I’ll just turn my back and say good-riddance? Drift, we’re in this together! You saved me back then, now I return the favor.”
“You can’t save me from an Autobot search party!”
He smiled grimly. “How do you know?”
Raoul headed out of the garage and to the adjoining apartment. It was a smallish place with a tiny kitchen, a moderate living area, and a bedroom that only had to accommodate a bed. It had been enough for him when he had set up shop. Now he opened a duffel bag and threw in clothes and other items he might need. Ten minutes later he was back in the garage. He threw the duffel into the car and climbed inside.
“Why?” Drift asked as Raoul backed the car out of the garage and then closed the door securely.
“’Cause I owe you. Cause you’re my friend. Cause this is what friends do.”
Silence greeted that statement. Drift finally scanned his human driver, noting the elevated breathing and heart rate.
“This is agitating you.”
“Damn right it is.”
“You can still leave,” Drift told him calmly.
“No.”
“This isn’t about you. They’re after me.”
“What for?! You’ve been on this planet for ages! You didn’t do anything wrong! Can’t you request amnesty or something like it?”
Silence.
“Drift, please!”
“I told you I ran with the wrong crowd.”
The human nodded. “The Decepticons. The ones who wrecked Mission City.”
“I didn’t just run with them. I killed for them.”
Raoul gazed at the dash as if he could see right into the red optics he knew Drift possessed in robot mode.
“I killed Autobots. Like the one who hunted me. I’m the enemy, Raoul.”
“People change,” the young man insisted.
Drift was silent, the engine humming softly.
“Listen to me, Drifter! I’m not going anywhere! I’m not leaving! We’re in this together! You’re my friend! I owe you a lot and I’m helping you. Trust me, okay?”
“I do trust you, Raoul. More than any of my own kind.”
“Thank you,” Raoul said, smiling. “And I know you’re not one of them. I’m with you all the way.”
They left LA an hour later, the custom made sports car now a Ford GT that, while still a cool sports car, was less of a looker. They wouldn’t really stand out.
“Where to?” Drift asked when they hit the highway and wove through traffic.
“Lincoln, Nebraska.”
Drift didn’t ask why. He simply calculated the fastest route. It would take a day of non-stop driving, so figuring Raoul needed to stop a few times, it would likely be up to thirty hours.
Five hours into the drive Raoul pulled out his cell phone. He briefly debated whether to use it, whether they could track him, then decided he was already acting paranoid. He pushed speed dial and waited. After the third ring, someone picked up.
“Hey,” he greeted the other. “Uhm, I need your help…”
tbc...
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
WHO TO BLAME: Sapphire! It only took one weekend to work this out, two weeks later the story was written out as a rough draft. Darn bunnies!
"If he’s a Con, which is highly likely, he wouldn’t crawl into a garage and
hide. He might take the human hostage, though."
Iron Man freed himself of the banner and growled to himself for such stupidity. He quickly scanned for Rodimus and the Decepticon, then cursed. The Con was fleeing and Roddy was down, something sticking out of his mid-section between two armor plates.
He shot toward the prone form and scanned, assessing the situation. Behind him the building was creaking and groaning under stress and the howl of the fire engines and police echoed in the night.
::Nothing vital hit:: he sent, looking into the bright blue optics that spoke of pain. ::I can pull it out::
::Do it:: Rodimus replied, sounding strained. ::We need to leave::
And so he did. The stick was about the size of an eight by eight. A small stick compared to a large mechanical body like Rodimus, but it had hit the spot and it had paralyzed the young Prime.
Iron Man pulled. The stick came loose with a scraping noise and Iron Man flung it aside. Rodimus groaned softly and rolled onto the side, pushing himself up. Energon trickled out of the wound, but it wasn’t much. Repair programs were already firing up.
“Who was that guy?” Iron Man asked.
He looked a little singed, but he had had a lot worse from friendly fire.
“I have no clue. The signal’s gone, too.”
Tony grinned behind the face shield. “But not far enough to avoid satellite tracking.”
Rodimus blinked slowly, then smiled as well. Extremis at its best.
“He’s currently headed south. Doesn’t look like some panicky flight, but he’s not really stopping for the sights either,” Tony reported, sounding a bit distant as he was logged onto the satellite.
“Keep tracking,” Rodimus ordered and transformed, heading away.
Iron Man followed, launching himself straight into the night sky and away from prying eyes. In the commotion of fire fighters and police, Rodimus easily slipped away.
::He changed outfits:: Tony reported. ::Mid-drive. Never saw that happen::
The young Prime chuckled. ::We’re versatile::
::That sounds so dirty, Roddy.::
::Only to you::
::Hm::
::What?::
::I’m not sure. I think he enabled a hologram. He has a driver::
Rodimus thought for a moment, then just stored that information away. Right now they needed to know where the Decepticon was going first. And he also needed to contact Prime about the enemy encounter.
*
Ten minutes later Iron Man cursed himself as he quickly went through all kinds of surveillance satellites and came up empty. The attacker had lost him!
::Blaster? This is Iron Man:: he contacted their eye in the sky.
::Blaster blastin’:: came the jovial reply. ::What can I do for you?::
Tony relayed the last image of the Shelby and his last position. ::Can you do a city-wide search for all Shelbys?::
::Will take a while and it’s not one hundred percent. He’s hiding his signature again, so we’re poking around in the dark::
::Yeah, well, we might hit something::
::Gotcha::
Iron Man landed next to where Rodimus had parked himself. “Now what?” he asked.
“I’ve been going through the registrations for the LA car show,” Rodimus told him. “And I informed Banachek and Optimus. About the havoc at the car show.”
Tony grimaced behind his mask. “Yeah. That. Hope our insurance is paid for.”
Rodimus chuckled. “Anyway. The car we’re chasing is registered to a Raoul Vega.”
“He’s officially registered?”
“Yep. Has been ever since Mr. Vega received his driver’s license, which was six years ago. Mr. Vega is the owner of Body Works, an auto shop.”
“So we check out the auto shop? You really think he would run there?”
“Who knows?”
Tony was doubtful. “If he’s a Con, which is highly likely, he wouldn’t crawl into a garage and
hide. He might take the human hostage, though.”
“Could be. So we check out the auto shop.”
The Iron Man armor disappeared and Tony got into the R8, then they drove off.
* * *
It had been a reaction out of pure panic. Drift had been among humans too long to really react like a Decepticon any more. He had at first zig-zagged across town, then snuck back to Raoul’s place. He used the automatic garage door opener to slip inside. His driver had been silent, just frowning at him, and Drift knew he owed him an apology.
As he parked in his usual space, Raoul leaned back, arms crossed, glaring.
“Care to explain now?” he asked acidly.
“We have a problem,” Drift blurted. “The Autobots found me.”
“What?!” Raoul sat up straight. “How?!”
“I… I made a mess. And I had to incapacitate him. I’m not sure I wasn’t followed, though I picked up no one. Raoul, I have to leave.”
“What? Wait, wait, wait… no! You’re not running!”
“It’s all I can do!”
“Drift, deep breaths!”
“I don’t breathe.”
“Stop splitting hairs.” Raoul scrubbed a hand over his face. “I need coffee. You - wait.”
He got out of the car and headed for the kitchen. Five minutes later Raoul was sitting on a stack of tires, drinking instant. Drift was telling him what had happened and Raoul listened intently.
“You think they’ll find you again?”
“Probably.”
“Even though you changed your outfit?”
“They know I’m here. They won’t just give up. They’ll keep looking and they’ll find me. Raoul, if they track your shop… I was the exhibit!”
Raoul nodded. “Okay. Gotcha. Not safe here.” He paced. “And neither am I. I don’t know those guys, but they probably won’t believe me if I tell them I never noticed anything with you, huh?”
“Probably.”
“Then we’ll shut down and hit the road.”
“Raoul, no.”
“You think after ten years I’ll just turn my back and say good-riddance? Drift, we’re in this together! You saved me back then, now I return the favor.”
“You can’t save me from an Autobot search party!”
He smiled grimly. “How do you know?”
Raoul headed out of the garage and to the adjoining apartment. It was a smallish place with a tiny kitchen, a moderate living area, and a bedroom that only had to accommodate a bed. It had been enough for him when he had set up shop. Now he opened a duffel bag and threw in clothes and other items he might need. Ten minutes later he was back in the garage. He threw the duffel into the car and climbed inside.
“Why?” Drift asked as Raoul backed the car out of the garage and then closed the door securely.
“’Cause I owe you. Cause you’re my friend. Cause this is what friends do.”
Silence greeted that statement. Drift finally scanned his human driver, noting the elevated breathing and heart rate.
“This is agitating you.”
“Damn right it is.”
“You can still leave,” Drift told him calmly.
“No.”
“This isn’t about you. They’re after me.”
“What for?! You’ve been on this planet for ages! You didn’t do anything wrong! Can’t you request amnesty or something like it?”
Silence.
“Drift, please!”
“I told you I ran with the wrong crowd.”
The human nodded. “The Decepticons. The ones who wrecked Mission City.”
“I didn’t just run with them. I killed for them.”
Raoul gazed at the dash as if he could see right into the red optics he knew Drift possessed in robot mode.
“I killed Autobots. Like the one who hunted me. I’m the enemy, Raoul.”
“People change,” the young man insisted.
Drift was silent, the engine humming softly.
“Listen to me, Drifter! I’m not going anywhere! I’m not leaving! We’re in this together! You’re my friend! I owe you a lot and I’m helping you. Trust me, okay?”
“I do trust you, Raoul. More than any of my own kind.”
“Thank you,” Raoul said, smiling. “And I know you’re not one of them. I’m with you all the way.”
They left LA an hour later, the custom made sports car now a Ford GT that, while still a cool sports car, was less of a looker. They wouldn’t really stand out.
“Where to?” Drift asked when they hit the highway and wove through traffic.
“Lincoln, Nebraska.”
Drift didn’t ask why. He simply calculated the fastest route. It would take a day of non-stop driving, so figuring Raoul needed to stop a few times, it would likely be up to thirty hours.
Five hours into the drive Raoul pulled out his cell phone. He briefly debated whether to use it, whether they could track him, then decided he was already acting paranoid. He pushed speed dial and waited. After the third ring, someone picked up.
“Hey,” he greeted the other. “Uhm, I need your help…”
tbc...