Chapter 15: Unwelcome Guests

Sam and Mikaela stepped down the staircase, their footsteps silent on the plush carpet beneath their feet. However, the silence within the mansion had given way to something else: several men in dark suits were moving around the large living room, carrying purposefully different pieces of high-tech equipment. In the middle of the room, Sam's parents were visibly agitated, looking at the men with a mixture of frustration and fear.

"Get off the carpet!" Judy Witwicky yelled, her arms crossed in defiance as she glared at a man stepping onto her prized antique Persian rug.

One of the men closest to her turned and grabbed his hand around her arm. "Lady, step aside," he barked in a tone bereft of patience.

"Hey! Get your hands off my wife!" Ron Witwicky thundered, lunging at the man holding Judy. But before he could reach her, two other men caught him by the shoulders and held him. Ron struggled, his teeth clenched in a furious struggle to wrestle free, then he was suddenly shoved backward violently.

Sam's pulse surged as he took in the scene.

His fists were clenched, and his movements were a blur of speed and accuracy, honed through years of training. Closing in quickly, he grabbed the first man holding his mother, twisting his arm behind his back. Bringing his foot down, he kicked out at the legs of the agent, who fell, wincing in pain.

The second agent lunged at him from the side, but Sam sidestepped and used the momentum to throw him into the nearest wall. A third agent pointed a taser at Sam, but he easily knocked it from his hand with a clean chop to the wrist and delivered a punch that sent him stumbling backward.

Mikaela watched in shock as Sam reacted fast and precisely, leaving a number of agents lying on the floor groaning as they tried to recover from the expertly delivered blows within a few moments.

But the sudden *click* of a gun stopped Sam in his tracks. One of the agents was behind Judy now, pressing the cold metal barrel of his handgun against her head.

"Stand down, kid, unless you want things to get real messy."the agent growled.

Sam froze, his eyes narrowing but his hands reluctantly raised in surrender. The tension filled the room, a weight Sam could practically feel pressing down on his shoulders.

Then, a figure stepped across the threshold of the house, his eyes scanning the room with an air of confidence. He was attired in a suit that was just a little rumpled, his hair slicked back. Looking around at the state of his fallen men, he quirked an eyebrow, the faintest look of surprise crossing his face before giving way to a smile.

"Well, this is quite a show," the man said, almost amused. "Stand down, Agent. Let the woman go."

The agent lowered his gun and released Judy, who hurried back over to Ron with a mixture of fury and relief etched on her face. Ron positioned himself protectively beside her, glowering.

The man in charge stepped forward a few paces, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded Ron and then Sam with a bit of a smirk.

"Mr. Weckety, I presume?" he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

"It's Witwicky," Ron said, his voice low and unamused. "And who the hell are you people?"

The man's smirk grew wider, and he held out a hand as though waiting for them to shake it. "Agent Simmons, Sector Seven. We're from a government agency that deals with. national security risks."

Sam was nonchalant as he heard the name. Sector Seven. He knew very well who they were. Of course, he couldn't let that slip.

"Never heard of it," Ron retorted, crossing his arms defiantly. "And as far as I can tell, my family hasn't committed any crime, so you've no right to be here."

Simmons' eyes roamed around the room, his face smug with satisfaction as he took in the well-appointed mansion and the family that was not unnerved before him. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a phone, hitting a button; a recording began to play. Mikaela's voice came through, panicked and trembling.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"There are. there are giant robots fighting! Send help!"

As the tape ran out, Simmons turned to Mikaela, eyes squinting. "Sound familiar?"

Mikaela's face went pale, and she turned away, not knowing what to say. Sam stepped forward, putting himself between her and Simmons, his eyes hard.

Ron crossed his arms, his face stubborn. "What does that have to do with us?"

Simmons let out a disbelieving sigh and pocketed his phone. "Let's just say you're all in a little more trouble than you realize. And to answer your question, Mr. Witwicky" he paused, his voice gaining a sinister edge, "you're coming with us. All of you."

Behind Simmons, a man in a white lab coat appeared and whispered something into his ear. Simmons nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to Sam and Mikaela.

"Possible contact confirmed," the lab tech whispered, his voice barely audible.

Simmons raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain?" he repeated, in a tone of great excitement.

The man nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Positive, sir. We're picking up 15 rads, especially from the boy and the girl."

A smile spread across Simmons' face. He stood up straight and then turned toward his men, his voice rising. "Bingo! Tag them and bag them!"

The other agents leapt into action, surrounding Sam, Mikaela, and his parents in a box-in. Judy and Ron protested loudly as Sam tried to shield his mother and Mikaela, his father bristling, fists clenched.

"You can't just take us away like this!" Judy yelled. "We're calling the police!"

Simmons stepped closer to Ron as he turned his head toward Judy, the smirk on his face changing to one of feigned interest. "Oh, I don't think you're calling anyone, Mrs. Witwicky. There's something a little fishy about you, your son the girl,and that crazy looking dogas well and this whole operation you've got going on here."

Ron bristled. "There's nothing fishy about us this is insane!"

Without breaking eye contact, Simmons nodded to his men. "Take them away."

Sam's ear hummed slightly, and he heard Alfred's unruffled voice. "Sir, should I begin intervention protocols?"

Sam took a deep breath, his anger barely contained as he whispered, "Not yet, Alfred. I'll handle it." He turned to see Mikaela's frightened expression and his parents being taken away, and he clenched his jaw, fighting to stay calm.

As the agents herded them toward the exit, Sam's father leaned in close and whispered, "Sam, say nothing. Wait for a lawyer."

Simmons watched them with a smug look, no doubt pleased at the control he seemed to have. "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Witwicky. This'll all be over soon enough."

With that, Sam, Mikaela, and his parents were escorted out, each pair of them placed into separate black SUVs waiting outside the mansion.

The SUV rumbled down the road, Sam and Mikaela handcuffed in the back seat, with Agent Simmons occasionally looking over his shoulder, his eyes switching between the two. He held up his phone, hitting play on the recording again.

"'There are… giant robots fighting! They're going to kill us!' " Simmons mimicked, stopping the playback. He turned his gaze directly on Mikaela. "So, Miss… not-you-on-the-phone-call, want to try explaining what you did see when you made this call to 911? "

Mikaela's face went cold as she whispered, "It's not me on that call."

Simmons rolled his eyes, his mouth twisted in annoyance. He jerked his thumb at his badge in a exaggerated gesture. "You see this?" he sneered. "This is my 'I-can-do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it' badge."

Sam leaned back against the seat, stifling a smirk as he nodded. "Sure, it is," he said dryly, clearly not fazed by Simmons' theatrics.

Simmons' jaw tightened. "I'm going to lock you up forever if you don't start talking." He turned his eyes on Mikaela, who snickered softly at Sam's indifference, but the sound only fueled Simmons' annoyance. "You—Miss-'Thinks-she's-pretty'—don't test me, especially with your daddy's parole coming up."

Sam's eyebrows shot up as he looked at her, feigning surprise. "Parole?" he repeated, playing along as if he hadn't known about her dad's history.

Mikaela's face lost its color as she stuttered out, "It's… it's nothing."

Simmons flashed a grin, clearly enjoying the situation. "Oh, grand theft auto that's 'nothing? "

Mikaela's cheeks flushed as she defended herself quickly. "You know those cars my dad taught me to fix?" She sighed, searching for the words. "Well, they, they weren't always his."

Sam nodded his head, still unflappable. "You stole cars, then?"

She shook her head, feeling the need for explanation. "We couldn't always afford a babysitter, so sometimes he had to take me along." Her voice wavered, and she turned away, embarrassed.

Simmons interrupted, getting very excited as he gestured with a finger while leaning in. "She's got a juvie record of her own, proving it! She's a criminal. Criminals are hot! Now, wouldn't it be a real shame if Daddy has to spend what's left of his natural life rotting in prison, huh?" He grinned, eyes squinting. "Time to talk."

Sam looked at Mikaela reassuringly, his voice steady. "Hey, I don't judge. Everybody's got a story."

Mikaela looked over at him in surprise—he understood. A small smile crept onto her lips, though she covered it by looking away. But she couldn't mistake the gratefulness she felt inside.

Just then, Sam heard Alfred's voice in his ear. "Master Sam, the Autobots are tailing the SUV from a safe distance. Optimus is preparing to intercept."

The corners of Sam's lips curled into a small, triumphant smile as he looked at Simmons. "You know, Simmons, you made a big mistake."

Simmons turned in his seat, his eyes narrowing. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Before he could get an answer, the SUV suddenly lurched to a halt, throwing them all forward. Confused shouts from the driver rose in the cabin, and a loud, metallic rumble boomed from above. Simmons looked up in shock as the roof began to tear open with a horrendous screech. Shreds of metal curled back like the lid of a can as the night sky and a massive figure in red and blue were bared. Above them, the giant robot loomed, piercing blue optics gleaming as it peered down. Simmons froze, his eyes wide open in unbelief.

Sam whispered into Simmons' ear, barely holding back a grin. "I'd like you to meet my friend. His name's Optimus Prime."

hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe