Fic: Smoke and Mirrors, Secrets and Lies 4/?
TITLE: Smoke and Mirrors, Secrets and Lies, part 4
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!
“Got a possible lead: Bella Sheppard. Raoul Vega called her just before we lost contact and she’s on his list of regular email pals. She lives in Lincoln, Nebraska.”
Tony looked around the dark and empty auto shop. Well, empty of life. There was plenty of stuff here. There was no mistaking this as anything other than a garage where cars were tuned, tweaked and pimped.
But the owner was gone, as was the car they were chasing.
Walking into the apartment attached to the shop, Tony went through the rooms, looking for clues, but there was nothing. It didn’t look like the lair of the assistant to some evil conqueror of worlds. Raoul Vega was a normal kid with a normal job. He simply owned a Decepticon as a car.
::Nothing:: he told Rodimus who was waiting outside. ::Blaster got something?::
::A rough lead. They have apparently left the city::
Tony nodded. It was what he would have done if it had been the other way around. He went over to the computer, an old model, and switched it on. It was no problem to crack the password and he flipped through the files. Sixty percent was business stuff.
::The kid earns some good money:: he commented. ::He has regulars. They pay well::
He went further through the papers, but nothing sprang out. Personal mails came next. Extremis simplified the matter. He could work very fast and his mind was multi-tasking.
::Chat rooms, emails, car forums… Okay, got some personal friends here. Blaster can check them out.::
Rodimus acknowledged and informed the communicator.
Tony searched through the apartment, even looked into the fridge, but there was nothing else that could tell him where the kid was running to with an alien car. He finally left the apartment and went out onto the silent, dark street.
“The clean up team is already at the LA show,” Rodimus informed him as he slipped into the Audi. “It’s been titled as an accident. Fuel explosion. Details are being added. We got it under control.”
Tony nodded. “So now we wait for a trail to appear?”
“Yes. There’s nothing much we can do until Blaster finds us somewhere to drive. He’s keeping an optic out for Vega’s cell signal.”
“Okay, I’m in the mood for a greasy burger. You?”
Rodimus chuckled. “None for me, thanks.”
“Idiot.”
“I’m in good company.”
The R8 headed out of the neighborhood and to the next burger joint that suited Tony’s taste. At 4:13 in the morning the traffic was moderate.
“You okay, Roddy? That guy hit you pretty badly.”
“Repairs are still going on, but he damaged less than I first thought. He paralyzed me, but that was about it. He could have taken me out for good.”
Tony nodded. “And how the hell did he do it? I mean, do you know this stuff? Hit the enemy with little actual damage, but leave him immobile?”
“No,” Rodimus answered truthfully. “I think Ratchet would know. He’s a medic and he knows about body structure and weak points, but I would doubt it gives you the advantage in a fight.”
Stark shrugged. “He had the advantage big time. And there are pressure points on the human body that react the same way. A pinch here, a jab there, boom! Instant immobilization, even death.”
Rodimus drove on in thoughtful silence, running through his memory banks. They stopped at a drive-through and Tony got his extra large with everything combo.
They continued cruising around LA for another hour, then Tony returned home. Rodimus took up his familiar place in the underground garage and Stark went to be for a few hours of sleep.
*
Blaster got back to them late in the afternoon,
“Got a possible lead,” the communicator said. “Bella Sheppard. Raoul Vega called her just before we lost contact and she’s on his list of regular email pals. She lives in Lincoln, Nebraska.”
“Okay. Sounds good,” Rodimus replied. “We’ll need transport.”
“Already waiting for you at the airfield.”
The Audi tore down the road and Tony grinned with the adrenaline rush of a good chase.
* * *
When she was born, her father had been absent.
When she celebrated her first birthday, it had been only one parent present.
When she was six, her parents separated. A year later her father was declared dead overseas on a mission for his country. He had been a decorated soldier and she should have had more of him than the few years, of which she could hardly remember any.
Her mother remarried after a long period of mourning, and she had a little brother a year later.
Bella Sheppard was adopted by her step-father, raised and pampered by him, treated like she was his own. She never felt at a loss for parental love, but she knew there was something missing from her life. She sometimes caught her mother flipping through old albums when she was little, looking at pictures from before her birth, then the first six years of her life.
Bella didn’t understand at the time, but as she grew older she knew her mother still missed her biological father. It was why she broke off contact to the Army buddies of her father, why only one remained… who came by less and less.
As she grew up and understood more, Bella wanted to know more about the man she had called a father once, who she couldn’t really remember much of. Every time she looked at a picture she understood that this was her real father, but she had nothing but dog tags and the flag from the funeral. And those items she had found in the attic, packed away. She left the flag stowed in the deepest corner of her walk-in closet and carried the dog tags with her from that day on.
Needing to know more about the man, she called her uncle. Okay, so he wasn’t her real uncle, but she had always felt that Uncle Bob was the closest thing she had as a link to her past. But Uncle Bob was rather tight-lipped sometimes. Maybe he thought a sixteen-year old didn’t notice, but Bella did. As she had noticed the pictures he took with his cell at her Sweet Sixteen party. She had wondered whom for, but she hadn’t asked.
It was throughout puberty that she also broke out for the first time. Her mother blamed puberty, but Bella didn’t want to hear anything. She dyed her hair a different color every month and ignored her mother, as well as her step-father. She stayed out late, always close to curfew, and always went away on weekend nights.
Her school work didn’t suffer, so her mother had nothing on her. She actually aced high-school. She had perfect grades.
When she had finished school and went off to college, she met Raoul Vega.
*
The building was nothing spectacular. Three stories high, brick, a flat roof, surrounded by taller buildings, it was home to students and people who couldn’t afford the larger, more modern apartments near the city center. But it was well-kept, clean, and not in a bad neighborhood.
Raoul parked Drift in a city lot, paid the fee, and climbed up the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door to the corner apartment overlooking the street.
“Hello, Bella,” he greeted the woman opening the door.
*
Bella and a friend had decided to go to LA and move in together. Her friend soon found new friends and a boy-friend. She moved out and suddenly here Bella was, alone, all on her own, and with no clue what to really do.
Raoul had helped her with her old car when it broke down and they had a rather nice talk about everything over coffee while she waited for her car to be repaired. For the two years she was in LA at college, she and Raoul formed a tight friendship. While he wasn’t a college kid and some of her friends looked down on him because he had never gone to college, Bella found he was the best friend a girl like her could have. A platonic friend, someone who wasn’t after her for a quick roll in the hay.
Still, even with Raoul and some other friends, Bella felt like she was drifting. She had no clue what to do with her life. She had no clue what she wanted to do job-wise. She had taken business and administrative courses, swimming in a large crowd, and while she had good grades, she had no definitive goal.
It was in her second year in LA that she discovered a love for media and journalism. One of her professors attested her a good writing skill, the ability to pick out the essentials from an article, a book or a paper, and that she could easily communicate the contents to others. Bella found herself with a new hobby: photography. She also dove into her studies with a new fervor. When her professor recommended another university, she went with it. She had never liked LA and a move sounded fine.
When she went to Lincoln, Nebraska, she and Raoul continued with emails and chats and the occasional phone call.
Now Raoul was at her place, looking tired, unshaven, clutching coffee like it was his life line, and he was telling her the most amazing story she had ever heard. About alien robots, transforming cars, good and bad guys, a war, and his own car, who was a fugitive.
Strangely enough, Bella believed him.
Raoul wasn’t the guy to make stuff like that up. He was a practical guy, he worked with cars, he had a small business, and maybe he sometimes exaggerated, but not like this. Never in her life would Bella have thought he would tell her about alien robots and that he had one of them as his car. Never!
Part of her was shaking its head at the sci-fi story, another, much larger part, thought back to her UFO freak brother’s ramblings about what had really gone down in Mission City two decades ago, about aliens on Earth, about occurrences in Iceland, Australia and, right on their doorstep, in Nevada. She had let him ramble, though she had looked at the Mission City stuff, mainly because her Dad had been there.
Terrorists, it had been called back then. Chemicals spilled and fumes inhaled. She had looked at the grainy images and had seen little more than blurry shapes.
“What do you want from me, Raoul?” she finally asked.
He sighed tiredly. “Really? I don’t know, Bella.”
His long hair had come undone from the pony tail and he swiped it out of his eyes.
“You can crash here, okay? Do you have clothes?”
“In the car.”
“I’ll get them. You get some rest.”
“Bella…”
“You said he’s okay. I can handle a talking car.” She gave him a thin smile. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll make battle plans.”
He laughed, but without humor. “This isn’t a game.”
“No, it’s not. But I won’t leave you alone in this.”
She felt the dog tags around her neck. She had been wearing them ever since leaving for college. Her mother would freak if she ever saw her with them, but Bella didn’t care.
“I doubt anyone suspects an alien in Lincoln. You can stay here, we can think about what to do. I’m not going home this summer break. We’ll think of something.”
“You know, I love you.”
She shrugged. “What’s not to love?” Then she was out the door and heading downstairs to the parking lot.
Raoul picked up his cell and called Drift. “Hey, big guy. Bella’s coming to pick up my things. We’re staying for a while. Don’t freak her too much.”
“I’ll behave,” came the amused reply.
Raoul lay back on the couch. He didn’t plan to sleep, just rest his eyes. As it was, he was asleep a minute later.
tbc...
Waits for the screams...
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!
“Got a possible lead: Bella Sheppard. Raoul Vega called her just before we lost contact and she’s on his list of regular email pals. She lives in Lincoln, Nebraska.”
Tony looked around the dark and empty auto shop. Well, empty of life. There was plenty of stuff here. There was no mistaking this as anything other than a garage where cars were tuned, tweaked and pimped.
But the owner was gone, as was the car they were chasing.
Walking into the apartment attached to the shop, Tony went through the rooms, looking for clues, but there was nothing. It didn’t look like the lair of the assistant to some evil conqueror of worlds. Raoul Vega was a normal kid with a normal job. He simply owned a Decepticon as a car.
::Nothing:: he told Rodimus who was waiting outside. ::Blaster got something?::
::A rough lead. They have apparently left the city::
Tony nodded. It was what he would have done if it had been the other way around. He went over to the computer, an old model, and switched it on. It was no problem to crack the password and he flipped through the files. Sixty percent was business stuff.
::The kid earns some good money:: he commented. ::He has regulars. They pay well::
He went further through the papers, but nothing sprang out. Personal mails came next. Extremis simplified the matter. He could work very fast and his mind was multi-tasking.
::Chat rooms, emails, car forums… Okay, got some personal friends here. Blaster can check them out.::
Rodimus acknowledged and informed the communicator.
Tony searched through the apartment, even looked into the fridge, but there was nothing else that could tell him where the kid was running to with an alien car. He finally left the apartment and went out onto the silent, dark street.
“The clean up team is already at the LA show,” Rodimus informed him as he slipped into the Audi. “It’s been titled as an accident. Fuel explosion. Details are being added. We got it under control.”
Tony nodded. “So now we wait for a trail to appear?”
“Yes. There’s nothing much we can do until Blaster finds us somewhere to drive. He’s keeping an optic out for Vega’s cell signal.”
“Okay, I’m in the mood for a greasy burger. You?”
Rodimus chuckled. “None for me, thanks.”
“Idiot.”
“I’m in good company.”
The R8 headed out of the neighborhood and to the next burger joint that suited Tony’s taste. At 4:13 in the morning the traffic was moderate.
“You okay, Roddy? That guy hit you pretty badly.”
“Repairs are still going on, but he damaged less than I first thought. He paralyzed me, but that was about it. He could have taken me out for good.”
Tony nodded. “And how the hell did he do it? I mean, do you know this stuff? Hit the enemy with little actual damage, but leave him immobile?”
“No,” Rodimus answered truthfully. “I think Ratchet would know. He’s a medic and he knows about body structure and weak points, but I would doubt it gives you the advantage in a fight.”
Stark shrugged. “He had the advantage big time. And there are pressure points on the human body that react the same way. A pinch here, a jab there, boom! Instant immobilization, even death.”
Rodimus drove on in thoughtful silence, running through his memory banks. They stopped at a drive-through and Tony got his extra large with everything combo.
They continued cruising around LA for another hour, then Tony returned home. Rodimus took up his familiar place in the underground garage and Stark went to be for a few hours of sleep.
*
Blaster got back to them late in the afternoon,
“Got a possible lead,” the communicator said. “Bella Sheppard. Raoul Vega called her just before we lost contact and she’s on his list of regular email pals. She lives in Lincoln, Nebraska.”
“Okay. Sounds good,” Rodimus replied. “We’ll need transport.”
“Already waiting for you at the airfield.”
The Audi tore down the road and Tony grinned with the adrenaline rush of a good chase.
* * *
When she was born, her father had been absent.
When she celebrated her first birthday, it had been only one parent present.
When she was six, her parents separated. A year later her father was declared dead overseas on a mission for his country. He had been a decorated soldier and she should have had more of him than the few years, of which she could hardly remember any.
Her mother remarried after a long period of mourning, and she had a little brother a year later.
Bella Sheppard was adopted by her step-father, raised and pampered by him, treated like she was his own. She never felt at a loss for parental love, but she knew there was something missing from her life. She sometimes caught her mother flipping through old albums when she was little, looking at pictures from before her birth, then the first six years of her life.
Bella didn’t understand at the time, but as she grew older she knew her mother still missed her biological father. It was why she broke off contact to the Army buddies of her father, why only one remained… who came by less and less.
As she grew up and understood more, Bella wanted to know more about the man she had called a father once, who she couldn’t really remember much of. Every time she looked at a picture she understood that this was her real father, but she had nothing but dog tags and the flag from the funeral. And those items she had found in the attic, packed away. She left the flag stowed in the deepest corner of her walk-in closet and carried the dog tags with her from that day on.
Needing to know more about the man, she called her uncle. Okay, so he wasn’t her real uncle, but she had always felt that Uncle Bob was the closest thing she had as a link to her past. But Uncle Bob was rather tight-lipped sometimes. Maybe he thought a sixteen-year old didn’t notice, but Bella did. As she had noticed the pictures he took with his cell at her Sweet Sixteen party. She had wondered whom for, but she hadn’t asked.
It was throughout puberty that she also broke out for the first time. Her mother blamed puberty, but Bella didn’t want to hear anything. She dyed her hair a different color every month and ignored her mother, as well as her step-father. She stayed out late, always close to curfew, and always went away on weekend nights.
Her school work didn’t suffer, so her mother had nothing on her. She actually aced high-school. She had perfect grades.
When she had finished school and went off to college, she met Raoul Vega.
*
The building was nothing spectacular. Three stories high, brick, a flat roof, surrounded by taller buildings, it was home to students and people who couldn’t afford the larger, more modern apartments near the city center. But it was well-kept, clean, and not in a bad neighborhood.
Raoul parked Drift in a city lot, paid the fee, and climbed up the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door to the corner apartment overlooking the street.
“Hello, Bella,” he greeted the woman opening the door.
*
Bella and a friend had decided to go to LA and move in together. Her friend soon found new friends and a boy-friend. She moved out and suddenly here Bella was, alone, all on her own, and with no clue what to really do.
Raoul had helped her with her old car when it broke down and they had a rather nice talk about everything over coffee while she waited for her car to be repaired. For the two years she was in LA at college, she and Raoul formed a tight friendship. While he wasn’t a college kid and some of her friends looked down on him because he had never gone to college, Bella found he was the best friend a girl like her could have. A platonic friend, someone who wasn’t after her for a quick roll in the hay.
Still, even with Raoul and some other friends, Bella felt like she was drifting. She had no clue what to do with her life. She had no clue what she wanted to do job-wise. She had taken business and administrative courses, swimming in a large crowd, and while she had good grades, she had no definitive goal.
It was in her second year in LA that she discovered a love for media and journalism. One of her professors attested her a good writing skill, the ability to pick out the essentials from an article, a book or a paper, and that she could easily communicate the contents to others. Bella found herself with a new hobby: photography. She also dove into her studies with a new fervor. When her professor recommended another university, she went with it. She had never liked LA and a move sounded fine.
When she went to Lincoln, Nebraska, she and Raoul continued with emails and chats and the occasional phone call.
Now Raoul was at her place, looking tired, unshaven, clutching coffee like it was his life line, and he was telling her the most amazing story she had ever heard. About alien robots, transforming cars, good and bad guys, a war, and his own car, who was a fugitive.
Strangely enough, Bella believed him.
Raoul wasn’t the guy to make stuff like that up. He was a practical guy, he worked with cars, he had a small business, and maybe he sometimes exaggerated, but not like this. Never in her life would Bella have thought he would tell her about alien robots and that he had one of them as his car. Never!
Part of her was shaking its head at the sci-fi story, another, much larger part, thought back to her UFO freak brother’s ramblings about what had really gone down in Mission City two decades ago, about aliens on Earth, about occurrences in Iceland, Australia and, right on their doorstep, in Nevada. She had let him ramble, though she had looked at the Mission City stuff, mainly because her Dad had been there.
Terrorists, it had been called back then. Chemicals spilled and fumes inhaled. She had looked at the grainy images and had seen little more than blurry shapes.
“What do you want from me, Raoul?” she finally asked.
He sighed tiredly. “Really? I don’t know, Bella.”
His long hair had come undone from the pony tail and he swiped it out of his eyes.
“You can crash here, okay? Do you have clothes?”
“In the car.”
“I’ll get them. You get some rest.”
“Bella…”
“You said he’s okay. I can handle a talking car.” She gave him a thin smile. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll make battle plans.”
He laughed, but without humor. “This isn’t a game.”
“No, it’s not. But I won’t leave you alone in this.”
She felt the dog tags around her neck. She had been wearing them ever since leaving for college. Her mother would freak if she ever saw her with them, but Bella didn’t care.
“I doubt anyone suspects an alien in Lincoln. You can stay here, we can think about what to do. I’m not going home this summer break. We’ll think of something.”
“You know, I love you.”
She shrugged. “What’s not to love?” Then she was out the door and heading downstairs to the parking lot.
Raoul picked up his cell and called Drift. “Hey, big guy. Bella’s coming to pick up my things. We’re staying for a while. Don’t freak her too much.”
“I’ll behave,” came the amused reply.
Raoul lay back on the couch. He didn’t plan to sleep, just rest his eyes. As it was, he was asleep a minute later.
tbc...
Waits for the screams...