Inevitable (Megatron x FEM/OC)

Chapter 20 - Diving

He'd boarded his ship with ease, leaving those beneath him to scour the continent for anything of relative use.

Lockdown was swift to emerge into his private quarters in some distant need to appease his queen and the roll he'd been assigned.

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"You're going to want to see this sir!"

"You, trace those radiation levels and get back to me. Follow up with those sightings, locate Optimus." Harold Attinger spoke with purpose and a newfound fire in his chest.

"Sir!" Called the worker, his headphones slid off his ears.

The balding man spun on his heel. "Talk, Charles. Tell me what I want to hear."

The techie- Charles- shifted back towards his monitor. "We just received military surveillance footage-"

"Son of a bitch. It's the girl again, isn't it? Has to be. No casualties, not Decepticon work." Harold nudged the subordinate aside and overtook the space, his slacks stiffened as he hovered the computer.

"Yes, sir. Footage reports that she is in possession of a N.E.S.T. truck." Charles nudged his way back into his space, snatching up his keyboard in the process to hyper-zoom in on the blurry figure that, no doubt, belonged to a lone female.

Snapping his neck to look at the brunette, Harold frowned. "Do we know what was on that truck?"

"Negative, N.E.S.T. has all information withheld from Cemetery Wind."

"Yeah, because those sons of bitches still want to ally themselves with alien metals, screw their own brethren." Attinger spat with barely constrained disgust. "When was this taken? Where? I need details."

"Was captured yesterday in Australia."

"I want this photo printed, now. Send it out to whoever, but make it everyone. Little girl doesn't know what the hell she's doing."

Charles cringed when his boss tapped at the computer screen harshly, but obliged to the request.

Harold, having pulled away from the computer, circled the room like a hungry shark out for blood. Over a dozen men and woman slaved away at their points tirelessly in search of anything of use to his cause.

"Progress, people! Let's make progress !" He'd barked out with thinning patience.

"Report back from Lockdown and team sir. Sweeps show no Decepticon inhabitants."

Harold cursed with a pinch of his nose. This job would sooner kill him than he'd get the chance to eradicate alien life. It was taxing and tiresome and made what little hair he still had recede further back by the minute.

"Mobilize troop 127 to Australia as fast as yesterday. Pieces of junk may not even be there by the time we've figured it out. Quicker! I need this information as soon as you get it!" His words were strained and echoed as he stormed out of the room, phone in hand.

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The sun was sweltering and bit at Lauren's skin with an unrelenting vengeance. She was sure it could've been hotter with how the months seemed to be changing, but nevertheless, she was sweating bullets. Breathing alone was wearing her down.

With damp clothes, she moved to unstick the hair from the name of her neck for umpteenth time in just that hour.

What time was it? High noon, she'd bet, but Lauren's never been known for her miraculous time management skills.

Her boots clung to her stickily as she moved to approach the mechs. She'd been awoken rudely and also dumped onto the rocks ledge just as rudely only moments after. That morning was spent full of curses and her climbing down without breaking a limb.