I have recieved several inquiries about this story and I feel bad to have to inform them that beyond this update, there is no more. I lost interest in this story a long time ago. Simple and sad truth. Happens to many of us.

As a christmas gift to all of you who reviewed this story and supported it I present this to you along with my sinceriest apologies for disapointing you all. Thank you for your support. Merry Christmas everyone.

Chapter 17

Prowl's thoughts were all jumbled together and rather confusing; hardly the proper behavior for a senior officer to experience and be unable to surpass. Whether the past events had sent him into shock or he simply couldn't comprehend the next logical step to take, it didn't matter. The attack on the human settlement by the Insecticons had come at the absolutely worst time possible.

The Autobots were entirely venerable. Several of their men had already gone into stasis lock due to the energy shortage. The Dinobots had been particularly messy. They, more then anyone else, need the Energon and in desperation tried to strip a small gas station off the side of the highway near their mountain encampment. They had succeeded in stripping the small businessman of his lively hood and the man's life as well. When Optimus had discovered their deed, he ordered them stripped of all the gas they'd stolen and forced into stasis lock. Needless to say, Grimlock didn't go quietly. They were still picking up the pieces from the Dinobot's struggle.

How were they going to fight the Decepticons with only half their complete forces at minimum strength? Plus, they still had not the resources to fully repair Optimus after the battle to save Spike a couple months ago. He was able to move around fine after Ratchet made some creative bypasses through his internal circuitry, but he was nothing close to what he needed to be to fight.

"Prowl?" A small voice emanated from below him.

Prowl looked down to see Spike standing there, staring up at him.

"Yes, Spike?" Prowl asked. "Something wrong?"

"No," Spike said shaking his head. "It's just…you don't look too good."

Prowl shook his head.

"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning?" Prowl replied. "Your language is a puzzling to me and sometimes it's difficult for me to follow."

Spike smiled.

"Why do you think we spend 10 years learning it?" Spike laughed. "I just mean that you looked like you needed a rest. You looked stress."

Prowl barked a laugh.

"That's quite an understatement." Prowl said.

Spike nodded solemnly.

"Have you watched the news?" He asked, resting his chin on his chest. "They really did call in the military…I thought you were over reacting when you told me before."

Prowl looked away from the young teen and said nothing for a while.

Spike turned away and went to go see how Carly was doing when Prowl spoke.

"I'm sorry Spike." He finally said.

Spike turned.

"For what?" He asked.

"I should have done more to keep you out of this conflict." Prowl explained. "And now your friend Carly is stuck here too."

Spike looked at the Autobot. Prowl stood solemnly in the conference room alone with his thoughts.

"You think too much." Spike replied. "It's not your fault. It's no one's fault."

Prowl began to respond when Spike stopped him.

"No Prowl. If you want to be responsible, stop sulking and do something." Spike scowled. "Ever heard of FDR?"

Prowl shook his head.

"FRD; Franklin Delano Roosevelt: President of the United States during the two most horrendous events in American history: The great depression and World War II. When he became president his whole idea of solving our economic problems was "try something!" As long as you're moving and doing something you're doing your best. Then when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, just like the Insecticons attacks downtown, he spoke his most famous line ever; 'The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself.' It's corny as hell to say, but you can't give in. You cannot give up. Do you understand now?"

Prowl looked up at the ceiling for a moment then back towards Spike. The Autobot grinned at the human.

"Y'know?" Prowl began. "You're quite a motivational speaker."

Spike smiled.

"Thank my ninth grade history teacher. I was practically quoting him there." Spike's laugh faded away.

As an awkward silence descended between them Prowl felt compelled to break it.

"How's your friend doing?" He asked finally.

"Carly? She's ok, I guess." Spike admitted absently. "I think she's just overwhelmed. She practically fainted when she saw you guys."

Prowl nodded.

"Will you two be OK for the night?" Prowl asked.

Spike shrugged.

"Ratchet's letting us crash in the infirmary." Spiked replied. "Carly's already in there."

Prowl nodded again.

"Hey...Prowl?" Spike asked. The human boy stared down at his feet. He shuffled his weight from foot to foot. "What are you going to do?"

"That's the question at hand isn't it?" Prowl answered. "The first thing we have to do is get everyone optional. But that in itself is a problem almost as big as the Decepticons."

"How do we get them optional?" Spike asked.

"We need resources; spare parts, material to repair wounds, fuel." Prowl sighed. "The Decepticons have all that because they stole it from you humans. That isn't an option for us."

"Why not?" Spike asked

Prowl looked down at the young human, astounded.

"Why? Because it's morally wrong! They killed innocent beings! Autobots will never-"

"Who said anything about killing anyone?" Spike interjected. "There are junk yards all over this city. No one's going to get too peeved at you snatching some old car parts and stuff. Besides, no one else wants it. That's the whole reason the scrap is in the junk yard."

Prowl seemed to savor the though as his mechanic processors ran through several scenarios.

After a small pause he nodded with a smile.

"It's an idea." Prowl replied. "In fact it's the only idea I've heard so far that made any remote sense."

Spike beamed with pride.

"So?" Spike asked. "Is that the plan?"

Prowl looked down at the boy and shook his head.

"Not so simple I'm afraid." He responded. "I'll have to run it by Optimus Prime and the other before we decide anything."

Spike nodded.

"But your help is appreciated greatly." Prowl thanked him.

Carly lifted herself from the small makeshift bed and looked around, helplessly.

'How could this of happened?' She asked herself. She refused to even recall the past few hours, for fear she would break into sobs again. On top of what she'd just saw, now she was inside an alien base! She thanked the sky for being able to awake in an empty room.

This was short lived as Ratchet walked briskly into the room cursing.

Carly made herself as small as possible as the large white robot made his way across the room and grabbed a few tools and was about to exit the room when he noticed Carly, quivering in the corner.

"Oh," He started. "I'm sorry if I woke you…Carly was it?"

'Oh great,' Carly thought. 'It knows my name.'

Carly nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off the Autobot. Ratchet seemed to pick up on this and sighed.

"You needn't be afraid of us, child." Ratchet said softly. "We are nothing like our more…destructive counterparts."

Carly saw no comfort in this small tidbit of information. She turned her head away and rested her head on her knees.

Ratchet sighed; saddened by the fact Carly was so unwilling to listen to him. He was about to exit when her voice, small and shaking, reached his audio receptors.

"Why," She asked. "Why do you all call Eric 'Spike'? "

Ratchet smiled and stepped back into the room.

"That's how we were introduced." Ratchet said; hoping he was being given another chance to convince her. "It's like a term of endearment. Makes him like us, part of the team."

Suddenly Carly whirled around and screamed a reply.

"He's not one of you!" She yelled. Her beautiful face was now contorted into a raging expression of contempt. "He's human! And you're dragging him into this and you don't even realize it!"

Ratchet was taken back by her response. Deciding not to reply and make the situation worse, he exited in silence.

He could hear her frustrated sobs all the way down the hall. As he entered the Control room, where everyone seemed to accumulate, he sat the various tools next to Wheeljack as he worked diligently on one of Teletran-I's fried circuit panel. As Ratchet straightened, he noticed that Spike was talking with Bumblebee and Jazz with a few other Autobots hovering around across from him.

After watching the small group Ratchet spoke.

"Spike." He called.

The young boy turned and looked over at Ratchet, curiously.

"Huh?" He said. Ratchet motioned with his finger for the boy to come over. Obediently, Spike walked over to the senior physician.

"What's up?" Spike asked, noting the serious expression Ratchet wore.

The gathered Autobots watched attentively as Spike straightened as whatever Ratchet was telling him reached his ears. As Ratchet straightened up, Spike looked down the hall, a look of fawning on his face, before sprinting down into the corridor.

"What's up?" Jazz asked from across the room.

Ratchet looked over at the younger bots, shook his head, and walked on.

When Spike entered the infirmary he didn't see Carly.

A wave of panic flooded through him and he ran over to the corner where he had left a sleeping Carly when they'd arrived. He noted that all her things, her purse and jacket, were gone.

"She's going to run," He told himself, breathless with the surreal truth. His mind started to spin. He couldn't believe that Carly would just up and leave. She was his girlfriend. They loved each other.

Then why didn't she trust him? The Autobots were their friends! They'd saved him from the Decepticons twice and saved her from Shrapnel. His heart began to pound.

"Carly…"

He felt the sickening feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. As he stood in the middle of the room for a few minutes, a new, strange, determination began to form. He felt it crawl through him until it reached his head. He jerked his head up, clenched his fist, and sprinted out the room. He almost ran right into an Autobot walking down the hall, but was able to run around the giant.

"Hey!" Ironhide scowled. "Watch it!"

Spike didn't answer. He has to find Carly before….bore she didn't something she would regret….that they'd both regret.

The first open room he saw he ran straight into. Apparently he had interrupted a meeting. Prowl, a few Autobots vaguely remembered, and a very worn out looking Optimus Prime sat around a large conference table with a large hologram in the center. Prowl hastily turn of the projector.

"Spike?" Prowl said, relieved it was just the human. "What's wrong?"

Spike shook his head.

"It's…it's nothing." Spike's voice was strained, attempting to sound as though nothing was wrong.

"I'm sorry for rushing in."

Without any other words or an explanation, Spike ran out.

The gathered Autobots looked at each other, rather perplexed at the strange randomness of what had just conspired.

"What was that about?" One Autobot asked.

Prowl stared out at the door for a few moments.

"I don't know, but it can't be good." Prowl mused to himself. "Excuse me for a moment."

Optimus Prime kept silent as Prowl stood and exited the conference room.

As the security officer continued down the hall he spotted Spike, who had just run into a corridor only to find it dead end, and run back out in a panic, his composure completely lost.

"Spike!" Prowl called out. "Spike, wait."

Spike turned abruptly to see Prowl walking towards him. His heart fell and he felt his lung tighten. In a panic Spike darted down the hall, away from the Autobot.

"What the-" Prowl said under his breath. Spike was acting rather strangely and in all honesty, it was beginning to worry the Autobot officer. "Spike!"

Prowl quickly transformed, and drove down the corridor after the young human, his tires screeching against the Ark's floor paneling. It took almost no time at all for him to catch up to Spike. He swerved around the human and came to rest in front of Spike, blocking the hall.

"Spike!" Prowl asked, a warning tone in his voice. "What in Primus's name has gotten into you?"

Spike looked back and forth nervously for a way around Prowl and turned to run the other way. Prowl transformed, reached out, and grabbed the boy before he could get very far.

Spike struggled and cried out.

"Let me go!" He screamed. "Let me go!"

The commotion in the halls began attracting the attention of the other Autobots. Bumblebee and Ratchet were the first to arrive.

"What's going on?" Bumblebee asked. The little Autobot was utterly confused at the scene and about Spike.

"That's what I want to know!" Prowl growled. "Spike!"

Spike stopped struggling, mostly from exhaustion then anything, and went limp in Prowl's grip.

"Carly," He sobbed. "I can't find her…anywhere."

Ratchet sighed.

"I thought so." He said breathlessly.

Prowl's gaze jotted up from Spike to Ratchet.

"Explain." He said simply.

"The human female must have been thoroughly shaken by today's events and her mind simply couldn't handle the information." Ratchet explained. "She must have run away when I left her in the infirmary. She seemed very disturbed at my presence."

Prowl processed the information and then sat Spike down on his feet.

"This is bad. We don't need a rouge human revealing our base location." Prowl mused to himself.

Spike looked at the Autobot surprised.

"Carly isn't a rouge!" He cried. "She's just scared!"

"This is my fault. I should have just relocated her and Spike to a secure location other then the base." Prowl continued, ignoring Spike. "I'll go tell Prime we have a situation. Bumblebee, go get Jazz; I want you two to go see if you can locate her before she goes too far."

Bumblebee looked hesitant to carry out the order.

"If Carly is scared of us, going after her will only make the situation worse."

Prowl shook his head.

"This is as high as the situation could escalate just short of a full out Decepticon siege." Prowl growled. "Ratchet, take Spike to the infirmary and make sure he stays there."

Without another word, Prowl walked away, leaving two confused Autobots and an enraged human boy.

"Screw him!" Spike cursed. "I'm going after Carly!"

Spike started walking off towards the exit when Ratchet stepped into his path.

"No Spike." Ratchet warned. "Bumblebee and Jazz will go find Carly. Right now we need to listen to Prowl. He's not the senior security officer for nothing."

Spike cursed.

"Since when did I fall under his jurisdiction?" He barked.

Ratchet scowled.

"Since he and Cliffjumper saved your chassis from Shrapnel!" Ratchet growled. In one smooth motion, Ratchet scooped the angry teen into his grip and turned to address a flabbergasted Bumblebee. "You heard Prowl's orders. You and Jazz go find Carly so Spike can calm down. I'm not a babysitter and I'm certainly not going to be watching a teenager for more than two cycles!"

Bumblebee nodded and headed off to find Jazz.

As Ratchet began walking off towards the infirmary he noticed that Spike wasn't struggling.

"I'm sorry, Spike, but-" The medic began.

"Save it…" Spike replied. "Just make sure they find Carly. It's too dangerous for her to be out there alone."

Ratchet looked down at the small, frail creature in his hands and saw that Spike's face was damp and his eyes were…leaking?

Spike wiped away a tear.

'How could she?' He asked himself. 'How could Carly betray me like that…Carly…don't you know…how much…I love you?'

Chapter 18

Carly's heart pounded in her chest as she trampled through the desert vegetation. The leafless branches of random bushes seemed to reached out, grab and tear at her clothing and bare skin leaving large red scratches.

When she finally made it to the paved highway she was well out of breathe and she felt like she could desperately use a shower. Like a wave of suppressed emotion, the realization of what she had done hit her. Her fell to her knees and began to sob hopelessly.

"Eric," She cried. "I'm so sorry..."

But Eric wasn't there to hear her. No one was there. Just like always.

"Please…"She begged. "Please, Eric…don't hate me."

The temperature began to drop well below the 50s when Carly was finally able to get a hold on herself. She scanned the road with a sad realization for any passing vehicles that could give her a ride. Just as she was about to scan the road for the tenth time, she saw bright lights coming up the highway towards Portland.

A fluttering hope rose in her stomach as she got to her feet and waitied for the car to come into view of her before waving her hand out to catch the driver's attention. Just as the car came into view her heart sank and she began to panic.

It was a police car.

Was it that robot that had taken them to its base some hours before? Carly stood frozen in place as the police car slowed to a stop before her. Just as Carly was ready to scream and run off, the window lowered with a light hum.

A sandy blonde head popped out and smiled at Carly.

"What's a pretty young thing like you doing all the way out here?" The officer asked. Carly immediately decided this was not one of the robots she had been dreading that he would be.

With a relief filled sigh Carly addressed the officer.

"I'm lost," She said hopelessly. "Could you take me into town? I have to call my parents and tell them I'm OK."

The Officer took a long look at the young woman and looked her dead in the eye.

"What's your name?" He asked. "We're you in Portland earlier today?"

Reluctantly she nodded.

"My names Carol Madison." She said. The officer ducked back into his car and pulled out a hand full of missing people alerts. He skimmed the files for a few minutes before pulling one out and handing it to Carly.

"This you?"

Carly took the paper and looked at the information and reading it carefully.

Wanted for questioning: Carol S. Madison.

Height: 5'4

Weight: app. 130 lbs.

Hair: Blonde

Eye: Blue

Last seen: Downtown Portland at Michael's Coffee.

Carly looked up and nodded.

"That's me." She said and handed the paper back. The officer took it and looked at Carly again.

"I can take you to the next town over, but you'll have to stay at the police station until an official picks you up."

Carly replayed the words the officer had spoken in her mind.

"An official?" Carly asked.

"Yeah, these were printed by the FBI," He answered while putting the files back into his bag on the passenger seat. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out the car. He opened the back seat and let Carly slide in. "They'll let you call home from the station. I can't take you into Portland but I can take you to-"

"Anywhere is fine." Carly interjected.

The officer shrugged and got back into the car.

It was disgraceful; such low level beings ignoring his orders and causing this whole mess. Thousands of Cycles worth of work by way of various raids and careful strategies and for what? All he got in return was but a large knot in his plans without an acceptable solution. Shrapnel and Kickback lay in utter ruin below his feet, both of them quivering for mercy.

None would come. Not from him. Not for them.

Bombshell watched rather annoyed as the Decepticon leader, Megatron took out his frustration on his two subordinates. Regardless of their conditions after the onslaught, there would be a significant delay in their search. In the long run, Megatron was simply crippling his own efforts.

This small fact gave the frustrated Insecticon some sort of satisfaction.

Megatron ceased his wrath filled punishment upon the two, barley functioning, Insecticons and turned to Bombshell.

"Get them functional and continue the search! Delays are unacceptable!" Megatron sneered breathlessly. "No excuses."

Bombshell was taken aback.

"But M-Megatron!" He stuttered, following behind the Decepticon leader. "You cannot simply beat my subordinates into slag and expect no delays!"

Megatron whirled on the insect and grabbed onto his throat, lifting him high into the air.

"I what?" He sneered. "I can do anything I so please and if you wish to continue functioning with all you parts still attached I advise you fix them quickly. Time is not, nor has it ever, been your ally."

Bombshell didn't reply, mostly because he couldn't.

Megatron let the insect drop and turned to leave, followed by a rather pleased Soundwave and Starscream.

"I suggest you get to work on those orders, Bombshell." Starscream cackled. "Megatron's a tickler for punctuality."

With one last victorious cackle, the air commander left.

Bombshell picked himself off the ground and hobbled over to his fallen henchmen.

"Megatron," Bombshell sneered. "Today…you make a dangerous enemy. It's a well know fact that all dictatorial governments always fall from the inside out."

Chapter 19

Optimus Prime sighed heavily as Prowl finished informing the leader of their current predicament. The fact that the attack on downtown Portland by the Insecticons was televised for at least twenty minutes, before the government stepped in and forbade all media entry, was bad enough, but now Spike's companion had run off. Prime could hardly blame the human female for being frightened, he just wished she would have given then a chance to explain what was happening to her and Spike.

"Have Jazz and Bumblebee returned?" The Autobot leader asked.

Prowl nodded.

"Yes," He admitted. "Though without Carly. Jazz reported seeing her enter a Police vehicle on the highway and heading to Lexington. They followed until they reached a police station where she was taken inside."

Optimus slowly lifted himself from his seat in the conference room. The pain in his abdomen had been constant since his incapacitation some months earlier. It was much to their disadvantage that they were not stocked with proper supplies and fuel. Ratchet had done his best to patch him up, but only so much could be done. At least the medic was able to fix damaged circuitry that enabled him to walk. No such luck came for some. Three Autobot warriors, Huffer, Gears, and Brawn, were incapacitated due to injuries that resulted in immediate stasis lock. They were not in danger of expiring, but again this inconvenience was to the Autobots disadvantage. It seemed as time went by, The Decepticons were gaining every advantage that was presented, while the Autobots stumbled along, just to keep standing.

Something had to change quickly if they were to catch up.

"Prowl," Optimus addressed. "Where is Spike?"

Prowl looked up at his commander.

"I had Ratchet confine him to the infirmary." Prowl replied. "He was in no emotional state to be left unattended. He would have gone after Carly, without doubt, and simply amplify the problem more."

Optimus nodded.

"Where is Ratchet now?" Prime asked as he walked, steadily, to the door.

"I believe he and Wheeljack are continuing their repairs, sir." Prowl responded as he followed behind.

"Would you ask him to meet me in the infirmary?" He asked.

Prowl stopped at hearing his commander's request.

"Yes, sir," He replied. "May I infer why?"

Optimus turned to his security officer.

"You may," Optimus responded with a chuckle. "However, my answer will have to be postponed until I speak with Ratchet. Is that sufficient?"

Prowl nodded.

"Yes sir." He said and allowed the leader to continue onto the way to the infirmary alone.

Prowl felt anxious. Very anxious; things were all mixed up. The Autobots needed to get make on their feet before things progressed any further to their disadvantage. Prowl began pondering about Spike's earlier suggestion. Optimus had been informed of the idea, but had not approved action upon it. Nevertheless, Prowl felt that this time he may need to follow Bumblebee's example and follow his spark. If the Autobots didn't recover soon it was all over.

He sat in the corner, head bowed, mind blank.

Nothing seemed to make sense. The only real feeling he seemed to have a profound tiredness he recognized as the same feeling he had many times before…defeat.

Spike simply gave in. He was tired of pushing so hard for nothing; tired of fruitless efforts and constant disappointments. No more…just let him waste away and die like the nothing he was…

The pressure release from the automatic door broke the silence of the room accompanied by the foot falls of two Autobots.

Spike lifted his head weakly, his eye lids half closed.

Before his stood the towering giants that were the Autobots; Optimus Prime accompanied by Ratchet.

Ratchet looked down disapprovingly at the human teen.

"What are you doing?" Ratchet asked.

"Please," Spike said, burying his head in his arms again. "Just leave me alone."

Ratchet bent down and looked at the boy sternly.

"I've no patience for people with attitudes," Ratchet warned poking the boy's head slightly with the tip of his finger. "Stop sulking and get up."

Spike sighed and got to his feet with some effort.

Ratchet seemed slightly satisfied with Spike's reaction, but it was obvious he was still annoyed.

"Spike," Optimus said gently. "I won't lie to you by telling you I know how you're feeling, but simply giving in isn't going to help at all."

Spike nodded.

"Did Bumblebee find her?" He asked weakly.

"He and Jazz reported seeing her being picked up by a law official." Optimus responded. "They headed into Lexington police station."

Spike smiled masking the pain he was feeling fairly well.

"At least she's safe," He sighed.

Optimus nodded in agreement.

"That doesn't mean were out of the dark yet, kid," Ratchet retorted. "She could blab our whole operation and location to the authorities."

Spiked nodded absently.

He had already thought of that already, but it seemed to have more of a physical form now that Ratchet had said it. Spike didn't want to believe Carly was one to do such a thing.

"I can't be certain that she will or will not tell," Spike added. "But I know she wouldn't do anything rash."

Ratchet looked at Optimus Prime before answering.

"We can't take that chance." He said flatly. "Optimus has been informed of your suggestion of a solution to our supply shortage."

Spike looked up, relieved for a change of topic.

"And?" Spike asked.

"It has merit and great potential," Optimus explained. "However, I'll have to declaim taking action upon it. We aren't desperate enough to steal from Humans. We'll have to think of some other way."

Spike felt rather disappointed his idea had been shot down. He thought a little bit more. There had to be some way that the Autobots could get the parts they needed. Spike began to think Optimus was thinking a bit narrow mindedly. Stealing junk wasn't a felony…at least as far as he knew, but nevertheless there were even worse consequences to their situation!

"What if you didn't have to steal it?" Spike asked, getting an idea he thought sounded rather fun. "I could…borrow it-"

"Negative," Optimus chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm and willingness to help them, despite his companion's recent betrayal. "That still leaves the fact that it was stolen."

Spike smiled a bit.

"I do know this one guy who's Dad owns a junk yard," Spike mused. "I haven't seen him since last year, but I could call in a favor. He still owes me, so what if I could get him to donate some old part to you guys?"

Ratchet laughed at the idea.

"You aren't going to let go of this are you?" He asked. Ratchet smiled. He was happy to see Spike in good spirits.

Spike shrugged.

He could already feel the negative emotions start to lift as the conversation progressed. The Autobots seemed to have that effect on him. Every time he seemed to be about to go over the edge, they were they to bring him back. Maybe that's why he wanted to help them so much.

"Where does this acquaintance live?" Optimus finally, giving in.

Spike thought for a moment.

"He used to live in Portland, but I think his mother moved him to Harrisville last spring." Spike muttered to himself. "It's the next town over Lexington."

"Ratchet," Optimus turned to the Autobot Physician. "Get Prowl and Mirage in here. We have some planning to go over."

Spike smiled and felt a swell of pride that he was being useful to the Autobots. If they were able to get all the Autobots back online and all fueled up, maybe he could go and find Carly. Maybe even try to explain some things to her. Spike refused to give up on her. Carly hadn't betrayed him. She was scared…for herself and for him. Spike was certain of it.

Buster Witwicky stared at the two men in front of him. Both had very stern faces and neither of them was speaking. The one on the right was of fairly large build and wore black sunglasses. His large bald head shone in the office's lighting.

"What does this mean?" Buster asked as he flipped through the report for the second time. A sick feeling in his stomach was making it hard to concentrate on what he was being told.

"Sir," One replied. "It means your younger brother is a key witness to the downtown Portland incident and may very well be corroborating with these…things."

Buster laughed.

"You obviously don't know Eric." Buster replied.

The other man sighed heavily.

"Sir, seven people are dead and many more Injured," He replied. "This is not the appropriate time for such…denials. As Brigadier General this situation falls under your jurisdiction."

Buster stood up from his desk and gave the tow men stern glares.

"I am well aware of my position, gentlemen, but more proof will have to be presented before I even consider arresting my own brother." Buster scowled. He walked around his desk and over to the door. "I'll contact you after I have come to a decision. In the meantime, I suggest you find more reliable evidence."

The two men stood out side the General's door, scowling.

"This new guy is a pain in the ass." One said as they headed out of the hall. "Do we have any confirmation on our leads?"

"All dead ended save for one." The other responded.

"Oh?"

"We have a Miss Carol Madison being held by Lexington Police in Portland. She's one of the missing people from the downtown incident. Apparently she was very willing to tell Lexington authorities what really happened."

The man smiled bitterly.

"General Witwicky, sir," He sneered. "You're about to be over ruled…"

Chapter 20

Charles "Chip" Chase wandered around his father's junk yard. The piles of broken down cars and various other metals scattered about the lot made a makeshift maze that, as of the present moment, was exactly what Chase wanted. He severely wished at that moment that he could simply disappear for a month. That should give his Father enough time to cool down from the shock. His father's brand new pick-up truck lay in ruins in the front of the lot. The front end having a tragic collision with a street lamp the nigh before. And the thumping pain in his forehead wasn't helping his creative thought process in the least.

Charles paced around waiting for a brilliant plan to spring into his head.

Nothing came.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" He cursed and kicked a rock. The rock flew and hit a small piece of scrap that was lying on the top of a pile or old car parts. The little piece f scrap fell and landed on a bigger piece and then that fell, creating a small avalanche of car parts.

With a yelp of surprise, Chase ran off to hide behind an old broken down Ford.

"Yeah, yeah," He sneered as he came out from behind the old car. "Screw you too, stupid junk."

As he turned back to go into the house to get something to drink, he heard the service bell ring. That annoying buzzer was the last thing he wanted to hear. As he headed around to the shop he noticed there was an old beat up looking yellow Voltzwagen Beetle in the front. He stepped into the shop and came face to face with a young man…who looked very familiar.

"Yo! Chip!" Spike waved as the young man entered the shop.

"Eric?" Chip asked surprised to see the boy. "What the hell are you doing here? Of all places!"

Eric shifted uneasily under the other boy's gaze.

"Well," He started. "Y'know that time you…um…needed my help?"

Chip turned bright red at the recollection of what Eric was referring to. Damn freshman year…

"What about it?" Chip asked suspiciously.

Eric smiled, rather slyly and answered.

"I'm calling in that favor."

Chip stared blankly at Eric. Calmly, he walked out of the shop to the back, leaving a rather confused Eric.

Then from the back of the shop came a loud curse.

"FUCK!"

Eric stifled a snicker as Chip re-entered the shop and addressed his old friend. The young man pulled his fingers through his messy hair and sighed heavily.

"I don't do any of that stuff anymore," Chip replied tartly. "I've been clean and sober since April."

Spike shook his head and waved away the idea.

"No!" He told chip. "I'm not after drugs, you dumbass! I want you to give me some parts."

Chip wasn't convinced and stared at Eric, waiting for the boy to say otherwise.

"Riiiiiiiight." He said unenthused. "What kind of parts?"

Eric dug through his pockets and pulled out a slip of paper with hastily written words.

"I need everything on this list." He said handing the slip over.

Chip scanned the slip skeptically.

"Are you kidding?" Chip replied; an eyebrow raised at Spike. "There's no way!"

Spike took back the piece of paper and sighed. He knew this was a bust! Chip may be a pot head, but he was smart in the way that counted.

"Who're the parts for?" Chip asked, leaning against the counter.

Spike stumbled with his response, utterly surprised at Chip's sudden question.

"N-no one!" Spike said. "They're for…for…uh….for…"

Chip sat on the counter and swung his legs over and faced his old friend.

"You've always been bad at keeping secrets boyo!" Chip snickered and pointed at the paper. "I know what you could do with these parts. Do you even know what any of these are?"

Spike stuttered an incoherent answer.

"Are trying into drag racing now?" Chip laughed and noticed Spike's car out front. "Are you trying to fix that old thing up? I'll buy it from ya for a couple hundred. It can't be good for the economy. Those old bugs get horrible gas mileage."

Spike began to feel anger creep up to his head as he followed Chip out of the shop to look at Bumblebee.

"Bumblebee isn't-"Spike clamped his hands over his mouth before he could say anything else.

Chip turned back to Spike and started laughing.

"You named that piece of shit?" Chip laughed. "God Eric! I knew you were crazy, but Jesus! You need to be admitted!"

Chip patted his friend on the back and returned to the other side of the counter.

"Spike….?"Bumblebee whispers angrily. "Who the slag is that creep?"

"Ignore him, he's always like that." Spike told him. "Besides, I just have to keep him busy long enough for Mirage to scope the yard out for the parts we need."

"How in Primus's name can you stand him?" Bumblebee asked.

Spike smiled nervously, waved the question away, and returned to the shop.

"So," Eric said leaning against his side of the counter. "If I can go find those parts myself out in that yard, will you hand 'em over?"

Chip acted as if he had not heard, as he began fiddling around with paper work and filing them away.

"Chip?" Eric called out.

"I heard you," Chip sighed. "The thing is Eric, giving you those parts isn't something I can do without payment."

Spike's heart fell.

"Is there anything you can do?" Eric asked. "I really need those parts."

Chip smiled and snickered.

"I'll do it if you can fix my Dad's pick up." He said jokingly. "Fix that up before my Dad gets back and they're yours!"

"When does he get back?" Spike asked, hoping this was their ticket out of this hole.

"Tomorrow," Chip sighed. "Sometime after 4 PM."

Spike thought for a moment and nodded.

"Sure!" He announced finally.

Chip stared at his friend, not believing what he was hearing.

"You're serious?" chip asked. "Have you seen it?"

Eric shook his head.

"I'll get it done." He said, walking out of the shop. "Where is it?"

"There." Chip said walking up along side Eric and pointing to the damaged truck.

Chip smiled devilishly as his friend eyed the junk pile that used to be a truck.

Without missing a beat Spike answered:

"Piece of cake." He said. "I'll stay and fix it here."

Chip for a moment Chip's brain wasn't functioning.

"You…gotta be joking…" He stammered.

Spike walked over to the truck and gently touched the side mirror which then fell off completely.

"No prob." Spike said with a grin as he started moving around the truck making it seem as though he knew what he was doing. "Leave me to this and go have fun. I'll have it all fixed up by the time you get back."

Chip stared, jaw a gap, eyes wide, and slightly hunched over.

"I wasn't serious! There's no way in hell you could do that!"

"Then what have you got to loose?" Spike snapped. "I fix the truck, I get the parts free of charge and you don't get busted! I don't fix the truck in time and I leave with nothing and the trucks somewhat fixed. Either way, you win…somewhat."

Chip shook his head as he ran his finger through his hair, considering.

"It's shit like this that drives a guy to drink y'know Eric…?" Chip bit his lip and stared at the ground, rubbing his dirty sneaker into the sand. "Oh shit, go ahead. You have my cell number. Call me when you're done. I'm going to the mall."

Spike felt a small bubble of worry fixed in his stomach suddenly pop and a feeling of elation coursed through him. A large grin appeared on his face.

"Thanks man," Spike said, giving his friend a hard slap on the back.

Grimacing, Chip pushed Spike's hand away.

"Yeah yeah," He replied. "Just don't mess it up any more then it already is."

Spike looked back at the truck and laughed.

"I don't think that's conceivably possible."

"Ha ha," Chip mocked sarcastically. "I'm out of here."

Spike followed Chip out as he left the junk yard and when he was well out of sight turned back to Bumblebee who was still parked outside the main building.

"Woohoo!" Spike cheered. "We're in! All we gotta do it fixed up Chip's Dad's ride and he's gonna hand over all the parts!"

With a chuckle, Bumblebee transformed.

"You seem to be enjoying this," He said.

Spike looked at his Autobot friend.

"Not everyday you get to play undercover agent in real life," Spike replied. "Maybe I should join the CIA."

"What?"

"Never mind Bumblebee," Spike replied, waving away the thought. "Let's get started on the truck."