THUD.
Sam's cheek slammed into the cold asphalt. He thrashed against the weight of the agents pinning him down, his voice cracking with desperation.
"Look at him! Did you see? He didn't even fight back!"
"He's friendly! You shouldn't be hurting him!"
Only now did Sam truly understand. Bumblebee—and these mechanical beings called Autobots—harbored no ill will toward him or humanity. Having witnessed Bumblebee's combat prowess against the police cruiser earlier that night, Sam knew that if the scout had truly wanted to resist, none of the humans present would still be standing.
Beside him, Mikaela's eyes were filled with the same burning indignation and heartbreak. But their pleas were hollow, falling on deaf ears.
The agents hauled them up, wrenching their arms behind their backs, and marched them toward Simmons. The man looked at Sam with a mask of cold indifference.
"Put him and his criminal friend in the car," Simmons ordered. "And get that thing frozen solid for transport."
"Yes, sir!"
Even as they secured Sam, Simmons didn't look particularly pleased. They had captured one, but four more were missing in the urban sprawl.
High above, hidden within the main spans of the bridge, Optimus Prime waited until the convoy and helicopters had faded into the distance before leaping down. He landed silently, his optics fixed on the direction where Bumblebee had been taken.
Minutes later, three vehicles roared onto the bridge. Ironhide, Jazz, and Ratchet transformed, their metal shifting with heavy clunks.
As soon as they settled, Jazz stepped forward, his voice sharp with frustration. "Bumblebee's been taken, Optimus. Are we really just going to stand here and do nothing?"
Among the Autobots, the hierarchy was built on mutual respect and brotherhood, unlike the rigid, fear-based caste system of the Decepticons. They spoke to their leader as comrades.
Optimus felt the sting in Jazz's tone. "We have no way to rescue Bumblebee without harming the humans," he explained softly.
"But are we just going to leave him to die?"
Optimus fell silent for a long moment. Finally, he spoke, the weight of the war heavy in his voice. "Let them go."
He pulled the glasses from his chest compartment, holding the fragile artifact between his massive fingers. "Our priority is to find the AllSpark before the Decepticons do. If Bumblebee encountered a revived Barricade tonight, it means the others know Megatron is on this planet."
"We lack the long-range arrays to contact Ultra Magnus," Optimus continued, referring to the commander he had left in charge of the resistance on Cybertron. "We don't know which of the Decepticon high command has followed us here..."
To some, Optimus's refusal to hurt humans seemed pedantic, even foolish. But it was this stubborn adherence to a moral code that gave him the gravity of a leader. It was a charisma born of conviction.
Belkox Air Force Base, Runway.
A massive C-17 Globemaster descended from the night sky, its wheels shrieking as it touched down on the illuminated runway. As the aircraft slowed to a halt, a perimeter of soldiers and researchers in white lab coats immediately swarmed the plane.
Before the hydraulic ramp had even fully extended, the rear cargo doors hissed open.
"Move it, soldiers! Out of my way!"
"Let me in first! Where is the unknown alloy?"
Katheff, a senior materials scientist, pushed through the loading ramp with frantic energy. He was a specialist recently conscripted by the military to analyze a "new type of metallic material." The military always had strange toys, and he hadn't hesitated to accept the invitation.
Inside the hold, Captain William Lennox and Robert Epps were packing their gear. Seeing a white-haired old man charging toward the nylon-covered crate at the back, William stepped in his path.
"Hey, easy there, Doc! That thing is dangerous."
Since the incident where the "dead" metal had nearly impaled a technician, William had ordered the severed tail bolted to a heavy steel lab table. To prevent further "accidents," they had kept it covered and ceased all internal testing during the flight.
Katheff didn't take no for an answer. He tried to shove past William. "Step aside! I am the expert here. Let me see the specimen—"
But the aging scientist was no match for a Ranger in his prime.
Fortunately, a ranking officer stepped in to diffuse the tension. "Captain Lennox. Welcome home. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Jefferson, Belkox Joint Base."
William took the offered hand with a weary, tight smile. "Thank you, sir."
After seventeen hours in the air, he was finally back on U.S. soil, but his heart was heavy. Of his entire Special Ops team, only he, Epps, and the severely wounded Fig were left. The rest remained in the sands of Qatar.
With William distracted, Katheff reached for the nylon cover again, only to find a wall of muscle blocking him. Epps looked down at the little man, his teeth flashing white in a broad, silent grin that said: Don't even think about it.
"Move it carefully. This thing might still be 'alive.' Don't provoke it!"
On the runway, William and Jefferson watched as soldiers loaded the table—and the severed tail of Scorponok—onto a transport truck.
"Get some rest tonight, Captain," Jefferson said. "Tomorrow, I'm taking you to see Secretary John Keller."
"Secretary Keller? The big boss wants to see me personally?" William was stunned.
"Yes," Jefferson nodded. "And congratulations in advance. I doubt you'll be a Captain by this time tomorrow."
William shook his head, no joy in his eyes. "Sir, you don't know what we saw out there. If I could do it over, I'd trade the promotion to have my team back."
Jefferson's expression softened into professional gravity. "Secretary Keller is mobilizing every resource to track this down. We will get justice for your squad and the Sanckson Base."
In the tall grass near the runway, a pair of glowing red optics watched the conversation. It was a mechanical panther—sleek, cold, and metallic. Images of the meeting were being transmitted in real-time.
"That tail... Scorponok's?"
Inside a darkened hangar elsewhere on the base, Skygnaw watched the feed through his drone's eyes. He felt a flicker of recognition. In the original timeline, Blackout had attacked the base and Scorponok had been sent to finish the survivors. The humans had managed to blow off a segment of its tail with high-explosive rounds.
"So, they brought the scrap here..."
Skygnaw had initially worried the military surge was a response to his infiltration. He had sent Black Panther to scout the perimeter just in case.
"Forget it. A severed tail isn't worth the risk."
As a high-level warrior now, Skygnaw had little interest in the broken parts of a mid-tier combatant like Scorponok. He was about to cut the visual link when his internal comms module pinged with a quantum-encrypted burst.
It was Soundwave.
Since the Autobots had been spotted, Soundwave had switched all communications to high-level encryption. Starscream, meanwhile, had been uncharacteristically quiet—either plotting in the shadows or simply enjoying the chaos. Skygnaw didn't believe for a second that Starscream hadn't been briefed on the Autobot arrival; the Decepticons were fractured, but they stood together against the "Prime."
[Skygnaw, this is Soundwave. Optimus Prime has secured the glasses. Prepare for full-scale war with the Autobots.]
[Blackout has arrived. Your current assignment with him is temporarily suspended.]
[The Autobot 'Bumblebee' has been captured by the humans. I am initiating a protocol to paralyze the human global network. We will frame the Autobots for the collapse and ignite a war between the humans and the 'aliens.']
"Heh... drawing the fire to the East," Skygnaw mused.
Soundwave truly was Megatron's most loyal shadow. Even in this fractured state, he wasn't giving up. If he couldn't beat the Autobots in a straight fight, he'd use the humans as a blunt instrument.
It was a viable plan. The humans knew nothing of Decepticons yet; they only saw the Autobots. With their natural xenophobia and fear of the unknown, the humans would tear into the "alien invaders" if pushed. And Optimus, with his "do no harm" obsession, would be trapped between a rock and a hard place.
"Unfortunate for them," Skygnaw thought. He sent a brief, perfunctory acknowledgment back.
[Lord Soundwave, Skygnaw acknowledges. Standing by.]