Chapter 52

In the dim light of his private study, Alexander sat before his computer, the glow from the screen casting sharp shadows over his face. His gaze was intense, focused solely on the small metal case he'd just unlocked with a cautious, deliberate hand. The case hissed open, revealing a shard of the Allspark nestled within—its surface shimmering with an eerie, electric pulse, almost as if it were alive.

Alexander slipped on thin, insulated gloves, the soft creak of the fabric breaking the silence. Holding his breath, he lifted the shard with a practiced care, every movement precise, as though handling a loaded weapon. Slowly, he brought a scanner close, keeping a wary distance between the two. His jaw tightened, recalling the last attempt—a flash of lights, a crackling burst, the scanner springing to life as a menacing little robot before it fried out in his hand.

This time, however, he was prepared. The scanner whirred softly, its lights flickering over the shard's jagged surface. Patterns danced across the display, capturing details of an alien craftsmanship, something ancient, beyond human understanding. When the scan completed, he set the shard back in its case, exhaling as he locked it away once more.

Turning to his computer, Alexander's fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up the scan data. His eyes narrowed at the symbols displayed—unfamiliar, yet strangely evocative, forming intricate patterns across the screen. He muttered to himself, leaning closer, almost as if drawn into their mystery.

"So… Cybertronian," he murmured, voice tinged with awe. "Or… something even older."

While Alexander was going through this, he got a message from Lennox saying."They narrowed in on another Decepticon."

Two year has passed since the first battle more Decepticons and Autobots arrived on Earth it was a battlefield. Autobots helped the humans hunt down the Decepticons by joining a group called NEST.

NEST is hunting down the Decepticons on Earth. A region of Shanghai, China.

On another street, a speeding black semi was in the process of disgorging contents of a very different kind. No treats these, frozen or otherwise. The small Hummers it unloaded carried men clad in full hazmat gear. In addition to their protective clothing they bore a variety of cuttingedge search-and-seek instrumentation. They also packed weaponry designed to deal with whatever their searching might find. Their expressions matched their gear and reflected their determination. Ice-cream–seeking children aside, the industrial complex was a hive of uncharacteristic nocturnal activity. Blackhawk choppers had joined the rapidly deploying hazmat teams and began to circle the district. They were backed up by Cobra gunships. Bigger copters of Russian design mounting heavier weapons formed still another line of aerial defense.

No shots were fired. No disinfecting elements were deployed. The increasing number of weapons-wielding arrivals worked in silence, searching for … targets. The men and women of several squads began to slip out of their bulky hazmat suits. The insignia on their uniforms identified them not as waste workers but as soldiers. One such group preparing to exit a rapidly descending chopper, was led by a somber-faced major who was better prepared than anyone else in the area to deal with the unknown possibilities it currently presented. Better prepared, that is, except for the master sergeant crouched beside him. As always, Epps had his iPod with him, but for once it was tucked away in a secured pocket. There was a time and a place for swaying to the music, and this particular night in industrial Shanghai was neither. Like Major William Lennox, the sergeant was all business. Behind them, highly trained troops readied themselves to follow the pair's lead.

Though they had been well briefed and given some idea what they might expect to encounter, all of them knew they would have to rely on the expertise of the two battle-hardened Americans. Reaching up, Lennox gently repositioned his light-weight headset. "Break, all stations, this net: cordon and search. People's Republic has put out an appropriate cover story, so the area should be clear of civilians. 'Toxic spill'— had to evac the district for search and rescue. That's us, 'cept for the 'rescue' part. Don't need to restate how important this is—and how in all probability dangerous. Six sightings in eight months; gotta make sure this one does not get out in the public eye. 'Specially after Rome. So keep it tight and let's make this operation as clean as possible." The chopper's skids made a grinding sound as they touched down on the thick concrete. "All right, everybody—let's rock."

Led by Lennox and Epps, the troops poured out of the copter and quickly spread out, keeping in contact while seeking cover. No one spoke. There was nothing more to be said, and any communication would come from their commanding officer and his assisting noncom. Flipping the visor of his advanced headgear down over his eyes, Epps hastily activated its integrated radiation tracker. The heads-up display showed him what he expected to find, in spades. "Lotta interference on this one," he muttered to the man standing alongside him. "Gamma signature's at four bars."

"Four?" Lennox added something under his breath. "You gotta be kidding me. That's not what we came for." Behind them, one of the team members offered his own assessment. "Either it's cloaking its signal, like in Rome, or we're getting echoes off all this heavy metal."

Lennox nodded, pondering. Reaching a decision, he whispered sharply into his headset's pickup. "Tell our four-by-four friend that he's clear." A moment later another black truck appeared. A second squad of experienced soldiers scrambled out, the last one getting off just as the vehicle began to change shape. Bending, folding, rising into the night sky, it assumed the form of a familiar silhouette, scarred but unbowed. Taking a step forward, it crouched down wordlessly behind Epps and Lennox, looming over them. Neither man was intimidated by its proximity. Quite the contrary. Turning, Epps favored the new arrival with a welcoming nod. The metal giant responded with a slow nod of its own. Epps grinned knowingly. "Let's kick some alien ass." Lennox's tone was disapproving. "Epps, you're getting cocky."

The sergeant shrugged diffidently. "Sir, that's just me, dealing with my fears about some classified, violent, otherworldly predator. Each of us has our own way of preparing for these encounters. Me, I like to get a little confrontational." His tone turned serious. "Isn't like I don't know what's coming." Lennox started to say something, then just nodded tersely. Looking up and past the noncom, he regarded the metal shape that now blocked out much of the night sky behind them. "Ironhide, we've got echoes. Steel stacks, two o'clock." The huge Autobot was peering past the much smaller humans, probing with sensors far more advanced than anything they possessed. "He's here," the giant murmured softly. "He's close."

"Then let's make sure he doesn't get far." Raising an arm, Lennox gestured at the squad assembled behind him. "Move out." Spreading out around the straightening, silent Autobot, the soldiers brought to mind ancient Carthaginian warriors flanking one of Hannibal's war elephants. Each man was prepared to defend himself but also to operate in support of the far more powerful giant in their midst. Though the electronic eyes and sensors that were part of their gear were greatly inferior to Ironhide's own, the Autobot could not investigate every place at once. At such times an aggregation of humans proved invaluable, able to provide a plethora of supplementary search capacity. When even a second or two of additional warning about an incoming attack or possible ambush could prove decisive, an extra pair of simple organic eyes was always welcome on the perimeter.

"Sideswipe, deploy …" The corvette that shot down the ramp protruding from the rear of another semitruck seemed utterly out of place among the swiftly dispersing soldiers and their prosaic military vehicles—until it shifted shape into that of a particularly sleek Autobot armed not only with guns but also with a variety of Cybertronian swords. As Sideswipe rushed to take up position, Ironhide was already issuing his second order. "Arcee, guard flanks."

The triplets Arcee, Elita-One and Chromia with Arcee being redish pink Ducati 848 Sport Bike, Elita-One being a pink MV Agusta F4 Sports Bike and Chromia being a blue customized Suzuki B-King Sport Bike.

While riding rezzed once, twice, and winked out. The disguise they presented had become superfluous as the Autobot altered, changing into her multiple yet integrated shape. Three single-wheeled killing machines now advanced where the cycles and their simulated riders had formerly idled. As befitted Arcee's personality and in contrast to her fellow Autobots, both the voice and the aspect of the tripartite Cybertronian emanated a decidedly nonmasculine cast—though her words were anything but feminine. "Locked and loaded, Ironhide." Deep within the complex, Ironhide advanced cautiously, flanked on both sides by alert and ready humans.

He's close, he thought to himself. Truly close. But where? If their target was cloaking, he was doing an exceptional job of concealing his presence. If not for his own unique detection gear and that which had been devised by the humans, no one would suspect that anything boasting an offworld origin was anywhere in the vicinity. Surely their target must know by now that he was being stalked. Yet the nearer pursuit drew, the tighter their quarry's cover seemed to become. Where in the name of the Allspark was he hiding? A sound followed, motorized and moving fast. Raising both arms, Ironhide turned in the direction of the rising noise. If it was to be a straightforward, head-on attack, then he needed to … He sighed and lowered his weapons as the ice-cream truck came skidding around a corner.

He shook his head. "Twins, just … try and stay out of trouble. Watch the big boys—and learn." He looked around, searching the silent, dark human industrial complex. "This is no place for improvisation." Obediently, the truck puttered to a stop. The tinkling musical tune it had been emitting switched off. As the two Autobots, one huge and experienced, the other smaller and new to the conflict, regarded each other, the human soldiers kept advancing. Detectors were signaling like mad as the squad closed in around a massive earthmover parked behind stacks of large-diameter concrete water pipes. The presence of kneehigh weeds suggested that the area had not been disturbed in some time. Still …

The audible blip-blip of the tracker integrated into Lennox's headgear was firing away at his consciousness like the drum machines that seemed to underlie half the music Epps favored. Something was causing the device to go crazy. But there was nothing here. Nothing but the earthmover, which gave not the slightest indication it was anything but a standard construction machine. Something wasn't right. The earthmover was clearly not a Decepticon. Sitting in front of them squat, unmoving, and devoid of a single revealing indicator, it simply could not be a Decepticon. But, he realized abruptly, it could be something else. He took a sudden step backward. "It's a reflection. A diversion!" Whirling, he found himself confronted by …

Whirling, he found himself confronted by … … a couple of local children. Their eyes were wide, their expressions curious, and their hands full of rapidly melting frozen treats. Turning to a couple of nearby soldiers, Lennox spoke through clenched teeth. "Guys, I ordered this district locked down. Get these kids outta h …" Too late. Enormous cement pipes were heaved aside as the actual earthmover whose duplicated image had drawn the soldiers' attention changed shape and came at them from an entirely different direction. Men dove for cover. Not all made it as crashing pipes were joined by the irresistible mass of the Decepticon known as Demolisher. Firing as they retreated, the squad scattered while Lennox swept up the stunned children and hustled them to safety.

Rising and roaring in the midst of the open area, Demolisher struck out with his own weapons as the soldiers poured fire in his direction, spraying the enormous Decepticon with everything from sabot-tipped stinger missiles to portable SAMs. Rocking and rolling, it slammed into the steel beams behind which individual troops had taken cover, smashing the posts aside as if they were toothpicks. Screams and shouts punctuated the barrage of fire and the flurry of explosions as the men fought back. A second massive shape came barreling out of the darkness, slamming into the Decepticon and knocking him off-balance. As Ironhide locked with Demolisher the frenzied barrage of human-directed fire slowed, the soldiers afraid to chance hitting their ally. With Ironhide clinging to his back, the Decepticon spun madly on his massive wheels, trying to throw him off.

As the pair whipped in wild circles, sending construction material flying dangerously in all directions, a third shape came powering out from the place where Demolisher had been hiding. Lennox got a line on it as it shot past him without even bothering to send covering fire in the humans' direction. Encased in the shape of a sleek European sports car, the Decepticon Sideways sped from the scene as fast as his engine and wheels could carry him. Such determined maintenance of its terrestrial guise indicated that he was intent not on fighting back as much as he was on preserving himself. Fighting could come later. Right now, the smaller Decepticon's objective was escape.

Peering out from behind a stillstanding steel beam, Lennox barked into his pickup. "Eagle niner, we've got multiple Decepticons! Track 'em—don't let 'em get away!" Not far away, Epps was shouting into his own pickup as he leaned over a moaning soldier whose legs were pinned beneath a chunk of broken concrete. "Team members down, need medevac now!" High overhead, helicopter gunships that had been patrolling the fringe of the search area began to close an aerial ring, tightening their range on the search.

Lennox contacted Arcee through the comms."Arcee, Twins! Target coming your way!"

Keeping to as much cover as possible, Sideways tore through narrow alleys and beneath unfinished factory ceilings, all the while seeking a clear, clean exit from the scene of battle. Skidding sharply around a corner, he emerged into an area of open unguarded sky and accelerated. He had not much farther to go before it would find himself in among more densely human-populated areas.

There, his sleek but unexceptional shape would allow it to slow, blending in invisibly with the rest of the nocturnal human vehicular traffic. Not only would the Autobots be unable to follow him, but even if one spotted his presence it would not fire in the presence of so many humans and … There was a vehicle on his tail —a peculiar sort of blocky, unaerodynamic vehicle, brightly colored and much faster than his silhouette suggested. Sideways skidded around a steep curve, then angled sharply to his right, shooting down a much narrower roadway. His pursuer followed, but was ultimately too wide to negotiate the alley. Crashing, it split in two, each half rolling until it came to a halt. Pleased, Sideways roared onward, leaving the ill-considered pursuit in his wake.

Changing shape, the pair of identical seven-foot-tall bipeds that had comprised the ice-cream truck descended into argument and recrimination, shouting at each other via a series of electronic hums, buzzes, and squeals no human could understand. Responding to an especially pointed expletive, one half promptly punched the other, knocking it flat. By the time the struck half hit the ground, Sideways was already out of sight.

Sideways had vanished into the shadowed streets, but the piercing roars of three Autobots echoed as Arcee, Elita-One, and Chromia rounded a corner in hot pursuit, engines revving with unyielding determination. Though Sideways was fast, they compensated with raw agility, their sleek, nimble forms weaving through the debris-strewn alleyways with precision.

Without hesitation, they transformed mid-chase, parts shifting and reassembling into their humanoid forms. Arcee took the lead, her red and silver frame gleaming as her complex mechanical structure shifted seamlessly, gears and pistons whirring. Her helmet's angular crests and sharp blue optics glinted with intensity, and in her right hand, a large, cannon-like weapon powered up, humming with deadly energy. She was built for precision and firepower, her slender, armor-plated frame crafted for agility.

Chromia moved beside her, her blue-and-silver design more angular and streamlined. Her asymmetric arms hinted at her fierce fighting style; the left arm, transformed into a powerful cannon, glowed ominously. The wheels on her back whirred as she surged forward, every joint and mechanical component primed for the hunt.

Elita-One flanked them, her metallic purple and black form exuding an aggressive yet elegant aura. Her helmeted head, with a sleek visor, shone in the dim alley light. Silver exhaust-like structures on her back hinted at concealed weaponry, and in her hand, the front wheel of her alternate mode had shifted into a makeshift shield, while a blade extended from her right arm, gleaming dangerously.

The trio shot single file down the narrow alley, their eyes locked on Sideways as he made a sharp turn, skidding around another corner. But as soon as they caught a clear line of sight, Arcee aimed her cannon and fired, her shot ringing out like thunder. Chromia followed suit, her laser cannon searing the air with blasts that scorched the Decepticon's armor, while Elita-One surged forward with her blade poised, ready to strike.

The alleyway erupted with the clash of metal on metal, armor-piercing rounds tearing into Sideways, ripping off chunks of steel and slowing him down. But he refused to be cornered, veering down a final alleyway—a dead end loomed ahead, marked by an old brick wall. Instead of slowing, Sideways accelerated, shifting into his robot form just before smashing through the brick, shards flying as he burst through the wall into an old residential neighborhood. The Decepticon crashed through the walls of a small house, debris exploding outward as he shifted back to vehicle mode on the other side.

Without hesitation, Arcee, Elita-One, and Chromia charged through the gaping hole in pursuit, never relenting. Their weapons thundered as they continued to unleash fire on Sideways, relentless and unyielding, a trio of Autobots in perfect synchronization, hell-bent on bringing their target down.

That was enough for the frustrated Decepticon. Recognizing that at this point there was no way he was going to be able to slip unobtrusively into the stilldistant flow of nighttime human traffic, he spun sharply. All three components of Arcee were flung off to smash into a nearby shuttered storefront. As glass and cement crumbled around them, the Decepticon shifted into his natural shape and brought his heavy weapons to bear, letting loose rapid-fire bursts in the direction of his unrelenting pursuers.

In a trice, Arcee's parts leaped acrobatically, combining into a single tall shape to return the Decepticon's fire. Not only was their new configuration more difficult to hit with weapons' fire, it also allowed them to shoot down at the cornered Decepticon.

While Lennox seeing this quickly contacted Sideswipe."Bring in Sideswipe!"

With a roar of engines and a streak of silver, Sideswipe barreled onto the scene, his sleek Corvette form glinting under the sun as he sped forward with unstoppable momentum. In a seamless, fluid motion, he transformed mid-charge, parts shifting and snapping into place as he rose to full height, his wheel-feet spinning beneath him yelling." Clear a path!"

Sparks flew as he carved across the pavement, swiftly gaining on Sideways, the Decepticon just a flash of black and red ahead.

With a burst of agility, Sideswipe launched himself into the air, twisting into a somersault that brought him directly over the Decepticon. Sideways was still firing as he came down— right onto one of Sideswipe's sword arms.

His right arm shot forward, a gleaming blade snapping into place. The blade bit deep into Sideways' hood with a metallic screech, the force of the impact staggering the Decepticon. Sideswipe twisted sharply, his body a powerful lever as he dragged the blade sideways, cleaving through armor, circuitry, and metal.

With a final, violent jerk, Sideways' body buckled, splitting apart in a shower of sparks and debris. Sideswipe skidded to a stop amidst the wreckage, his optics flickering as he surveyed the remains. He straightened, blades retracting, and took a brief, somber moment to absorb his victory.