All Great Power [A Transformers Fanfiction]

Before. Began. Begone.

A pair of black Osprey military helicopters flew high over the hot desert sand of Qatar. One carried a particular seven-man special ops team.

"Oh, man, after five months of this," one of the men, Jorge Figuero, or fondly called Fig, groaned, "I can't wait to get a little taste of home. A plate of mama's alligators étouffée."

He scrunched up his face at the thought of his mama's home cooking, "Mmm-hmm."

William Lennox, the captain of the team, looked over at Fig, who was sitting next to him, in disgust as he chewed his gum slowly. His men, who had all heard Fig monologue, either copied their captain's expression or rolled their eyes. They had all heard this before.

"You've been talking about barbecued 'gators and crickets for the last two weeks," Robert Epps told Fig, pointing at him warningly, "I'm never going to your mama's house, Fig. I promise."

"But Bobby, Bobby," Fig protested, "Gators are known to have the most succulent meat." His eyes took on a dreamy look before he started rattling off in Spanish.

"I understand," Epps said rolling his eyes as Figuero was talking rapidly. Epps mumbled some nonsense that sounded like Spanish before rolling his eyes again. He cut off Fig, who was still rambling, "English, please."

"English," Lennox grunted with finality in his hoarse voice. "I mean, how many times have we," his voice cracked and he winced at the sharp pain in his throat.

"We don't speak Spanish. I told you that," Lennox finished simply, shaking his head.

"Why you got to ruin it for me, man? That's my heritage," Fig exclaimed defensively before once again launching off in his foreign tongue.

"Okay, go with the Spanish," Lennox conceded quietly, waving his hand dismissively, "Whatever."

Turning his head from Fig, he caught the smiles and laughs the other men: Brad Donnelly, Rodney Hatfield, Wayne Rinehart, and Jim Taylor, were trying to hide. Will had to stifle one of his own. More often than not, it was too easy to mess with Fig. Way too easy.

"Hey, you guys remember weekends?" Brad Donnelly, who's nickname was Donnie, spoke up in his New York accent, smacking his gum. He grinned at his teammates despite his filthy face, "The Sox at Fenway. Cold hotdog and a flat beer."

"Perfect day," Fig sighed, almost to himself as he let his head rest dreamily on the back of his seat. He looked over at Lennox, "What about you, Captain? You got a perfect day?"

Lennox leaned his head back against the metal siding of the chopper, looking up. A slow grin came over his dirt and sand smeared face and he opened his mouth to answer.

"I think I know what his idea of a perfect day is," Epps commented slyly, cutting Lennox off.

Epps raised and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at his captain while Lennox himself looked around at his men, dreading their answer.