Twisted Cogs | | Bayverse | | Book 2

Chapter 8 | | Orion | |

"Even the greatest of our kind strive in darkness; just look at the stars."

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

A muted groan of discomfort leaves Toby's lips as she shifts unhappily in her seat. It's hot. And not the kind of hot you get when you bundle under a pile of blankets. This is insufferable, migraine inducing heat—the type of thing someone only feels if they chugged a glass of hot sauce and sat in an oven until their skin turned crispy brown. This is the kind of heat that splits a person's lips the second they step into the sun and has them begging on their knees for water.

Aquarius shares in her suffering, whining weakly against his mother's shirt. With all of Bumblebee's energy being used to speed along Egypt's sandy roads, he found himself unable to turn his cooling fans on high enough to satisfy the needs of all eight people sheltering in his alt. The heat's slowly—but surely—starting to get to him, and it's become inevitable that they make a rest stop at soon.

"That was my CIA contact," Simmons' voice interrupts Toby's suffering, momentarily distracting her from the way her skin sticks to the seats. "Says ancient Sumerians used to call the Gulf of Aqaba the Dagger's Tip."

"That makes sense," the woman comments, "it divides Egypt and Jordan."

"Exactly," the ex-agent nods firmly in confirmation, "like the tip of a blade."

"Got a GPS on you?" She questions, airing out her shirt the best she can. She's starting to understand what bacon feels like when it's put in the oven.

"In the bag," he jabs his thumb back at her, pointing out its position at her feet.

She groans lightly, peeling herself off the leather seat to rummage through it. At least she doesn't have to dig for long before it touches her fingertips.

"Coordinates?" Her gaze doesn't leave the small device.

"Twenty-nine and a half degrees north, thirty-five east."

A miniature map appears on the tiny screen, zooming in on the tip of the Gulf of Aqaba. Toby narrows her eyes at it, scowling slightly, "Got it."

Sam plants his hands on Bumblebee's steering wheel, briefly glancing at the trio in the back before returning his gaze to the dirt road, "Okay, first thing we gotta do is get Optimus to Dagger's Tip."

"How are we going to get him halfway around the world?" Leo frowns at the inventor, not entirely following along.

Toby lips stretch in a meticulous smile, a hard glint in her icy eyes, "I'm gonna make a call."

"And how are you going to do that, girly?" Simmons quirks a brow, his mischievous and curious expression drawing her attention away from the GPS.

"I—" she starts, only to cut herself off, frowning at something in the approaching distance. Lights flash in the universal colours of red and blue, and sirens whine irritatingly as the cruisers speed down the tarmac road. The risk of arrest sparks a small glimmer of exhilaration in the young woman, and her lips twitch further upward.

"We got cops," Sam states, eyes flashing over to the cruisers coming at them before twisting the wheel to swerve out of the way.

The trio of Autobots scatter, clearing out a path for the police to drive through. Though the cars drift, spinning back around to partake in a chase. This urges the 'bots to put the metal to the pedal and take off down the streets of Cairo.

"I can't go to prison, guys!" Leo cries in panic, tightly gripping the seat below him as they bounce along a beaten street.

"'Bee," Toby pats the door, speaking just loud enough for the young Autobot to hear, "you need to get off this road ASAP. Find a place to lay low."