"Bow in the presence of greatness,
'Cause right now thou hast forsaken us,"
»«
"So Buckethead is rooming with us now, huh?" Miko Nakadai said as she leaned against the railing to get a good look at Megatron. The girl had only changed a little in the past six months, growing a little taller - but not by much - and changing her current punk outfit for a much more metal-like one, now wearing a band t-shirt and matching black leggings underneath her jean shorts.
"Against my better judgement, yes." Ratchet confirmed, still at his computers.
Megatron looked at the medic in amusement. "I gave you the option to refuse me," he stated, "but you decided to allow me into your base of operations."
"I think Ratchet could kick Megatron's tailpipe if he wanted," Miko continued talking, grinning as she threw a few fake punches. "I bet he's got some secret ninja moves or something!"
"I know of two 'bots that could qualify as 'ninjas'," Ratchet muttered, "but I am not one of them."
Rafael couldn't help but chuckle a little, typing away at his own computer while he sat on the couch. "I think it would be kind of funny to watch Ratchet fight."
Dana laughed, setting down the piece of paper she had in her hand and picking up another one, skimming over the contents. "He's actually pretty good," she noted, "we've been practicing with the Apex Armor, and I've yet to not let him slip under my guard."
Megatron raised an optic ridge. Ratchet, a field medic, teaching her how to fight? Of the rare times he had seen the doctor engage in combat, he wasn't very impressed.
"You and the doc-bot spar in your spare time?" Miko questioned.
"I've been doing my best," Ratchet added. "While Dana can wear the Apex Armor, that won't prevent her from being captured or potentially injured inside the suit; so it is important she learns self-defense."
"But I thought the Apex Armor could protect whoever was wearing it from anything," Miko frowned.
"It can protect you from cannons and swords, but not from being shaken into mush." Ratchet answered.
"Makes sense," Jack huffed softly as he set down another piece of paper. "Hey Raf, have you found anything?"
"Not yet," the young hacker looked away from his computer, the screen reflecting off of his glasses, "I'm guessing you're not having much luck with those either?"
"Agent Fowler provided as much intel as he could on the known MECH suspects and whereabouts, but I can't piece anything together." Jack huffed, rubbing the center of his forehead.
"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, even the best agents at D.C. can't figure it out," Dana reassured, "so why not let a few interns take a crack at it? And since we've had actual, direct contact before, we know first hand what MECH operations are like."
"But I thought they disbanded without their leader?" Miko questioned.
"An organization isn't much of a cause if they are broken apart by the loss of a single leader," Ratchet pointed out, "but the second in command is almost always more ruthless than their leader; they are second in command because they feel strongly about the cause. So we can expect Silas' predecessor to be even more psychopathic than he was."
"Great," Jack muttered.
"MECH created the abomination that was the human inside of Breakdown's shell, am I correct?" Megatron asked.
"Yes." Ratchet paused in his typing. "They also aimed to collect weapons of mass destruction for their own personal use. Luckily, after Silas was destroyed, they stopped for some time, mostly to return to the shadows, I'm sure. But if they ever get wind that there is Cybertronian technology hidden and ripe for the taking, they will try to find it."
"Which makes our new objective all the more paramount." Megatron guessed.
"And ours." Jack added, feeling increasingly frustrated with the lack of answers. "But this information is getting older by the hour; some of it is probably already obsolete. It would help if MECH just reared its ugly head again."
"But they always leave without a trace!" Miko crashed on the couch next to Rafael, crossing her arms. "The only time we found Bulkhead was because of his life signal. And none of the equipment they steal has trackers!"
"As far as we know. But Raf is looking into that." Jack explained.
Dana sighed. "Fowler will want a report, but what can we report if we find nothing?"
"Just that," Jack shrugged. "We found nothing. But there's gotta be something . . ."
"What if we set a trap?" Miko suggested. "Almost like the D.N.G.S? We pretend we're transporting some super-important device and wait for them to come, and then snap! We spring our trap and capture them!"
"That's assuming MECH would be willing to try and steal it." Ratchet huffed. "Exposing ourselves for no reason could result in a different human organisation attempt to expose or eradicate us. There are risks involved, Miko, and I'm not entirely willing to take them. Not when it's just me."
"I could be of assistance -" Megatron began, immediately interrupted.
"You haven't passed your driving test yet!" Ratchet snapped. "And I am not trusting you to not double-cross me and hand me over to those goons. No, we will not go through with the plan, as poorly constructed as it is."
"We will just have to try to work with the information we have," Jack sighed, "though it isn't much."
Megatron looked a little offended, but kept quiet, finding logic in Ratchet's statement and simply accepting that it would be some time before trust was fully established.
"So far I haven't found any history of the government finding something similar to MECH operations using a tracker," Rafael reported. "But some of the devices they have stolen did have tracing chips in them. However, they were removed before extraction, which means that MECH must have known they were there."
"That could mean they have people on the inside," Dana searched through the papers. "The CIA had the same idea, but they pulled profiles from all of the people working there and couldn't find a single pattern. Rafael?"
"Already on it." He typed away while Dana searched, the girl pulling out a massive manila folder from a stack and flipping through it. Her green eyes scanned the names and occupations of each worker, trying to find something, anything.
"MECH is smart, though. Why would they let any sort of clue be in their name that would allow them to be identified?" Jack asked.
"So that other members could find them, and instantly know to trust them," Dana surmised. "So, what kind of clue would a MECH goonie leave behind for his other goonies to know it was him?"
"Or her," Rafael turned his screen around, indicating to the picture of a woman. "Leela Bismouth. Sound familiar?"
"Leland Bishop, Silas' original name." Jack answered.
"Oh come on!" Miko threw her hands in the air. "How could CIA agents miss that?!"
"Firstly, because they probably assumed it was a man, like me," Dana put up a second finger as she counted off her reasons, "and it was glaringly obvious. If you're trained to look for anything but the obvious, you'd probably miss it."
"Fair enough," Jack noted. "Any other ones just as obvious?"
"No, but . . ." Rafael typed a few more things into his computer, "That was the second facility I check into. The first one didn't show any red flags. But let's see if any familiar faces pop up."
"Like our Leela friend," Miko leaned over to watch as Rafael worked.
"Well, we finally have something to report," Dana joked lightly to Jack.
"We have one name and face," Jack sighed, "I was kind of hoping for more."
"More may come. But for right now, let's celebrate the small things." The young woman smiles, eyes sparkling. "By the time we have all the information we need, MECH won't see us coming."
»«
"Sir, we picked up a brief energy signal that is only emitted by the Transformers. A scout team is searching the site right now."
"Any inkling of who it might be? Or what 'side' they hail from?"
"No sir. Until our team can find some symbol or the Transformer itself, we have no idea."
"Tell me, Delta," a gloved hand brushed back a platinum blonde strand of hair behind the speaker's ear, lips as red as blood the only indication of any color that could be on their face, eyes covered by dark glasses. "Did we not lose our last leader after he chose to dapple in the world of Transformers?"
"We did, sir." Delta controlled his tone, not wanting Alpha to sense that he was afraid. "According to the Branch One reports, the science and medical teams put his mangled body into one of the Transformer corpses, which turned out to be a success. But he destroyed the place and killed everyone in it, then disappeared amongst the 'Decepticons,' as the side was called."
Alpha tapped long, deadly, pink fingernails against the arm of the chair, accent nail covered in diamonds and glittering in the dim light. "So why then should I care about the Transformers at all? Clearly they are bad business."
Delta inhaled softly. It's a test. "Their technology surpasses that of all human-made creations," he exhaled as he continued speaking, swallowing the fear as Alpha leaned forward a little bit, eager to hear one drop of terror leak from his words, "the information from Branch One was vast, but still mostly unexplored. They cared more about operations than weapons systems, which could be attributed to their downfall. We are not looking for a perfect meld of man and machine, but the perfect profit."
"Why does profit matter?" Alpha asked, feigning boredom.
"Not just the profit, but the power." Delta didn't dare glance over or away from the leader, despite his eyes being hidden by goggles. "If the military, and ultimately the government, rely on us so heavily for the best weapons we have to offer, we could manipulate them for our own agenda. That agenda being yours to decide."
Alpha cooed. "I love it when you stroke my ego like that, Delta." With a wave of the manicured hand, he was dismissed.
Delta immediately turned and walked away, letting loose the breath he had been holding in. I passed.
Branch Five was the ruthless band of Greek letters, a pack of wolves from which their name indicated their rank. Delta was fourth in command, but that was soon to change, he thought. Gamma had just lost favor with Alpha, single-handedly screwing up a project that had taken four months to bring to fruition. If he wasn't ordered dead or demoted to Omega within the next few days, Delta would be surprised.
But it was due to the ruthlessness of their current Alpha that MECH was going to be brought back to life. After the unfortunate death of Silas, Alpha had stood amongst the other branch leaders and declared themselves the new leader of MECH, from which all reports were to be given to. Only one person contested, the leader of Branch Two, who thought the usual chain-of-command tactic would work in securing them a spot.
Branch Two was currently paying for their insolence by unfortunate leakings of their true identities. Those who had stood up to their leader were first, and just when the others thought they were safe . . .
Delta shuddered. The government hated MECH, mostly due to them stealing important weaponry and information. He could only imagine what "interrogation" tactics the U.S. government was using to get them to talk. Lucky for Branch Five, their true names could never be revealed by the other Branches.
Only Alpha had that power.
The pink acrylic nails tapped against the arm once more, almond-shaped tips leaving faint scratches where they hit. Alpha returned their gaze to Beta, who was currently working at their shared computer and tracking the movements of Gamma, Theta, Iota, and Nu.
"You should have sent Delta on this mission," Beta noted, "I'm sure he would have been more than thrilled to relieve Gamma of his spot."
"Despite his rank, he is too . . . Sweet." Alpha replied, struggling for a better word. "Soft, kind. He would never hurt a fellow human being."
"Shame."
"But, that is why I like him," Alpha grinned, "I can eat him up alive and he wouldn't lift a finger to subdue me. I also know he won't try to pull the trigger with the gun pointed at my head. He may not like me, but I have nothing to fear from him."
"A sheep among wolves." Beta's fingers hovered over the keyboard.
"Now, Nu, she will be desperate to climb her way back up." Alpha purred. "Which is why she was selected to do the job. She thinks I trust her enough to go through with whatever I tell her to, even if that means killing a fellow MECH operator."
"I'm guess you already have a replacement."
"Don't insult me." Alpha bared their teeth a little. "Of course there is a replacement. One operator from Branch Two will be joining us. They will be given the rank Tau."
"So far up?" Beta tilted their head to get a better look at Alpha to search for the joke. "Why not Omega? Or Psi?"
"Because I want them to feel that they have my favor," Alpha waved a hand, "and I am still very angry with our current Omega and the stunt he pulled with the others below Tau. So they will sit there to rot, perhaps even come to hate the Branch Two replacement."
"Am I qualified to know why Branch Two?"
"Not yet." Alpha reclined in their seat. "Not until things are going the way I want them. You are aware of the Branch Two situation, so you can try to guess my reasoning. But until then, all you have are theories, nothing more." Their head turned again to watch the screen, smirking as Nu got into position, silently playing out the scenario in her head.
"How much are you will to bet that Nu will have her eyes open when she takes the shot?"
Beta scoffed. "What are the odds that her eyes will be closed? This is the opportunity she's been waiting for. There's no way she would keep her eyes closed."
Alpha grinned, leaning forward in excitement as the red dots settled. Nu was going to make her move.
Silence filled the room as the two watched, and silence continued as Gamma's life reader faded to nothing.