Chapter Four:

As Hawk watched, Brawl transformed to robot mode, bellowing "Cease fire!" as he stood. Even stranger, Swindle and Vortex obeyed the order, each one transforming and moving to flank Brawl. Only Blast Off stayed where he was.

"They can't be leaving," Mainframe said. "Onslaught's still wounded."

"Maybe they're abandoning him?" Dial-Tone sounded hopeful but not convinced.

"No." But Mainframe sounded just as unsure. "They wouldn't. They can't -- I think?"

Brawl took two steps forward, sending chunks of asphalt flying. "General Hawk!" he yelled. "We want to parlay! Tell your people to stand down!"

"What the hell?" Mainframe said. "Hawk, no way this is legit! It's a trick, gotta be!"

"No kidding," Dial-Tone said. "Question is, how'd they know Hawk's name?"

"Let's find out," Hawk said. "Joes, stand down. Hold position and be ready to fire when I give the order. Dial-Tone, you stay here. Anything happens, you're to call in reinforcements and tell Duke to do what it takes get our people home."

"Y-yessir, General Hawk." Dial-Tone climbed out of Hawk's Desert Fox. "Come back safe, okay?"

X X X

"We want to make a deal," Brawl said when Hawk and Mainframe arrived. His arms were crossed belligerently over his chest. Behind him, Swindle and Vortex mirrored his stance. Only Blast Off didn't bother posturing. Instead, he knelt by Onslaught, hands visible as he continued to work with understated urgency.

"What kind of a deal are you boys looking for?" Hawk asked.

Brawl waved Swindle forward. "Tell 'em."

"We need a medic." Swindle's voice held a note of desperation. Brawl rested a hand on Swindle's shoulder. "You squi-- you guys slagged Onslaught bad. Bad enough we can't fix 'em an' we can't get him transformed enough to get him back to base."

"My heart bleeds for you," Mainframe said. "You started this attack, we finished it. Sounds like it's karma coming back on you."

To Hawk's surprise, Swindle looked back at Brawl, as if for advice or reassurance. "Full disclosure," Brawl murmured. "Give 'em the whole truth, Swindle."

Swindle grunted sounding pained. "Onslaught's dying," he said, looking from Mainframe to Hawk.

Hawk's face remained bland as he stared up at Swindle. After a moment, Swindle looked at the ground, one foot nudging an asphalt chunk. "If you don't help him, he's going to go off-line, permanently. Last I checked, you Americans didn't just let people die."

"I don't know about you, Hawk, but I'm willing to make an exception for Combaticons," Mainframe said. "Autobots told us all about you. You guys are war criminals, remember? "

Hawk stepped in front of Mainframe as Swindle's optics went white with anger. "Come on, Swindle, from what I hear, you're all about the bottom line, so let's negotiate. What's in it for us if we help you? Warm fuzzies just aren't reason enough for us to save Onslaught."

"You want a deal?" Swindle grinned, but his optics were still bright with anger and also with something close to panic. He took a half step forward, bending down to stare Hawk fully in the face. "Sure, General Hawk, I got a deal for you! If you don't help Onslaught, we'll burn this city down. Even without Bruticus, we're strong enough to be a match for you and the Super Secret Squishy Squad back there! And without Onslaught, we got nothing to lose!"

Swindle gestured behind him. "Havefam's corporate headquarters has a staff of approximately fifteen hundred workers, from the CEO down to the security guards. Behind them? Slag, there's easily two or three times that many in the housing developments to the south, west and east. You wanna race? Let Onslaught die and we'll see how many we can kill before you can take us down."

"What's to stop me from simply ordering my troops to fire on this position? Hawk asked as easily as he might order breakfast. "I'm just as willing to commit suicide as you are, Swindle. Give me a real reason to help you, not some puny threat."

"It's not a threat!" Swindle snapped. "We know you've been studying us. Remember Generistan? Your own government sat by and let us wipe out a dozen Generi villages. We'll do it here, larger than life and see what kind of funding you get then! You'll be in it so deep, not even General Crowther'll be able to get you out."

At the mention of Crowther's name, Hawk goggled and Swindle sneered, clearly secure in the belief that he'd struck a chord. "Your buddy General Crowther'll have to scrap his favorite squad -- or what's left of you when we're done!"

"General Crowther?" Hawk said. "What do you know about General Crowther?"

"If you want to find out, get us our medic," Brawl said, pulling Swindle back, turning his teammate around and pushing him back toward the others. "You got five breem to tell us what your decision is. An' if Onslaught dies in the meantime, all bets're off."

With that, Brawl turned around and stomped off, trailing Swindle.

"Five breem?" Hawk asked, working on the mental calculation. "That's..."

"A little less than forty-five minutes," Mainframe said. "Not a lot of time."

Hawk shook his head. "No, but that's never stopped us before. Let's get to it."

X X X

"What if they say no?" Vortex asked over the team's channel as the humans left.

"We tear this city apart," Brawl said. "Just like we promised. Just like the old days."

"They won't say no." Swindle's reply was peevish. "They won't let us go berserk on civilians. They can't; it'll look bad."

"They haven't agreed to help us yet, Swindle," Blast Off said. "They could simply decide to let Onslaught die and kill us as well. You've certainly given them cause to want to gun us down. And, it's what we'd do."

"They're not us!" Swindle growled. "They won't say no!"

"Yeah, but what if they do?" Vortex asked, his voice detached but curious -- an interrogator's voice. "What happens to us?"

"We can't go back without Onslaught," Blast Off said. "No point. Megatron will simply do what the Autobots didn't."

"Then we'll make sure we have a nice high body count before the humans take us down," Brawl said. "Until then, we wait."

X X X

Hawk and Mainframe were halfway back to Joe lines before either of them spoke.

"How serious do you think they are about trashing the city?" Hawk asked.

"Completely," Mainframe said. "I wasn't being facetious when I called them war criminals, Hawk. What records the Autobots had about them showed that they were basically a goon squad back on Cybertron. They specialized in pacifying civilian targets -- just like they did in Generistan. Running wild over Pawtucket would be just another notch in their belts."

"What do you think our chances are of taking them out before they can make a move?"

Mainframe hesitated. "You mean, just gun them down?" he asked.

"Yes," Hawk said. "Would we be able to destroy them before they could make a move against the civilians in the area?"

Mainframe paused, taking a couple steps to catch up with Hawk before he answered. "They'll scatter," he said. "Any hostile move we make now, they will see as a threat and retaliate by scattering and attacking."

"Us or civilian targets?" Hawk asked.

"Civilians, without a doubt," Mainframe said. "They're bullies, Hawk. We hurt them, they'll want to hurt us back."

Hawk considered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, they're scared and desperate," he said. "Lovely. What do you recommend?"

"If we make a deal, we run the risk of the Decepticons pulling this kind of stunt again and again, any time they get in trouble." Mainframe sighed. "On the other hand, if we don't, the Combaticons will use us to commit suicide."

"I know, but what is your recommendation?" Hawk asked. "Give me your gut instinct on this."

"Make the deal," Mainframe said, without hesitation. "We can't gamble civilian lives on this. Besides, there's something fishy going on -- I could tell by the way you reacted when Swindle mentioned Crowther."

"Nice to see we're on the same page." Hawk chuckled. "That obvious, huh?"

"With all do respect sir, if that's your poker face, don't play cards with Ace," Mainframe said. "He'd win your star."

Laughing, Hawk pulled alongside the Rolling Thunder. "Dial-Tone," he called as he climbed out of the Desert Fox. "Over here!"

"Yessir!" Dial-Tone jogged up, puffing slightly.

Solemnly, Hawk put his hand on Dial-Tone's shoulder. "We need to make a radio check," Hawk said. "Since this is, essentially, a live-fire exercise, I want to test our long-range communications' effectiveness."

"Yessir, General Hawk," Dial-Tone said, looking equally solemn. "Do you have a target in mind?"

"Oh, I think the West Coast is a good target," Hawk said. "Oregon, perhaps? The Ark, to be specific. Think you can do it?"

"It'll be tricky," Dial-Tone said, breaking into a grin. "But, I think I can!"

X X X

"Greetings, General Hawk." Red Alert was his usual carefully polite, guarded self. "We've seen the footage of your battle -- rather impressive what you did to Bruticus."

"Thank you." Hawk shook his head, waving a hand as if to dismiss the faint praise. "It was luck, pure and simple. A moment or two either way and we'd have missed our chance -- but that's not why I'm calling. We need a medic, a Cybertronian medic."

Red Alert's guard slipped, his face showing surprise. "A medic? For who -- for Onslaught? Have you lost your mind?"

"Probably; you're not the first one to ask that," Hawk said. "We've made a deal with the rest of the Combaticons -- we save Onslaught, they give us some information we need."

"What sort of information?" Red Alert's characteristic wariness was in full swing again.

"Among other things, how the Decepticons came to know that we were training in anti-Decepticon tactics. And why they're name dropping certain high-ranking officials in connection with said training."

Red Alert sat back, considering this. Hawk had sat through enough appropriations meetings to know a bargaining look when he saw one. "Would the dropped name happen to be 'Crowther'?" Red Alert asked.

"It might." Except for scale and material composition, Hawk's look was a match for Red Alert's.

"And would you be willing to share this information once it's gathered?"

"Of course," Hawk said. "And if you happened to have any information that might also be useful?"

Red Alert didn't answer, at least not directly. "The Protectobots are en route to Pawtucket. Their ETA should be between ten and fifteen minutes. They were instructed to observe and assist civilian rescue workers -- officially, I will not change that order; the Decepticons have led the gestalt gap for too long. But, if you explain the situation to Hot Spot and if he decides to agree, there's nothing I can do about it from here. Red out."

X X X

Once the ceasefire had been declared, it hadn't taken the Joes long to establish a temporary camp. A makeshift hospital had been created by the simple expedient of erecting a simple tarp lean-to and a mess hall consisted of a wounded-but-still-functioning Greenshirt passing out MREs and canteens of water.

Hawk took advantage of the lull to eat; his deadline was fast approaching, but he wasn't about to scurry over to the Combaticons. Let them see him looking calm and relaxed; let them sweat a bit. Or overheat or whatever their equivalent to sweating was.

As Hawk surveyed the area, keeping a watchful eye on his Joes, a small, strange convoy approached. Civilian rescue vehicles had been moving in and out of the area for a while now, mostly police but a few fire companies had been called out. However, none of the local companies had powder-blue fire trucks, nor did any of the local PDs have a driverless motorcycle. Clearly, the Protectobots had arrived.

Hawk set his MRE aside and drained his canteen cup of water before setting off to meet the Protectobots. As he approached, the fire truck -- Hot Spot -- transformed and stepped over to him.

"General Hawk, we're here to help," Hot Spot said. "Though, by the looks of things, you guys have things under control."

"Oh, I think we can find a few jobs for you," Hawk said. "Primarily, I'd like for First Aid to take a look at Onslaught. According to his people, he's dying."

Hot Spot looked over to where Blast Off stood by Onslaught's injured form. "You guys did that?" he said, looking down at Hawk with surprise and respect. "We heard you'd hit 'em but, wow!"

Hawk grinned. "We hit them before they could finish merging," he said. "MOBAT and Rolling Thunder's main guns."

"Whoa." Hot Spot looked at Onslaught again. "Y'know, maybe Red Alert's right to be worried about you guys. But, now you want to fix him?"

"It's part of a deal we made, " Hawk said. "They'll free the hostages if we save Onslaught. Plus, they have some information that I want about why they're here in the first place. Can we count on First Aid's help?"

The nice thing about Cybertronian body language was that it was easy to read -- every gesture and movement was writ large across their billboard-like bodies. Hawk could tell by Hot Spot's posture that he wanted very badly to say 'no.' Not that Hawk blamed him. The temptation to do unto others what they would most certainly have done unto you was strong -- particularly in the case of a pack of mad dogs like the Combaticons.

"We're technically only here to observe," Hot Spot said, hedging. "That kind of involvement, I don't know..."

"If Onlsaught dies, they've promised a rampage," Hawk said. "Not only against us and the hostages, but also against the civilians surrounding us." Hawk paused, feeling Hot Spot's uncertainty radiating off of him. "Can Defensor stop them?"

"We don't need Defensor," Blades snapped. "We can take them out now. C'mon, Spot, give the order and we can get this over with!"

Hawk watched Hot Spot's hands clench and unclench, and for a moment, he wondered what he would do if Hot Spot yielded to temptation. They'd gotten lucky with Bruticus; he didn't want to even contemplate having to turn weapons on his allies.

"Hot Spot, tell him yes," First Aid said, his tone gentle but firm enough that it was clear that the medic would brook no arguments. "That way, you don't have to write me up for insubordination when I do it anyway."

"Don't be stupid, First Aid," Blades said. "They'd leave us to die and laugh about it. Why help them now?"

"It doesn't matter what they'd do, Blades. It matters what I do, what we do. We're not murderers." First Aid looked back at Hot Spot. "If this were a fight, that would be one thing, but it's not. Onslaught's dying and I cannot stand by and let that happen -- and neither can any of you. We're not them."

"Watch me!" Blades said.

"Shut up, Blades," Hot Spot said. "First Aid's right. General, tell them you've got a medic and tell us how we can help."

X X X

Hot Spot accompanied Hawk back out to the Combaticons' position, carefully shortening his steps so that Hawk was in the lead.

"Those are our terms," Hawk said, staring up at Brawl. "You will release the hostages and allow my people and the Protectobots to escort them out of the area before the repairs will begin."

"We'll let the humans go, yeah," Brawl nodded, seemingly nonplussed by the idea. "They're not important anymore anyway. You know what'll happen if Onslaught doesn't make it."

"Squish go the squishies," Swindle stage-whispered and snickered while Vortex giggled, until a rumble from Brawl shut them both up.

"I do." Hawk ignored the exchange. "In addition, you and your teammates will disarm yourselves of all external weaponry and submit to mode locks for the duration of the repairs. You will remain here, under guard."

Brawl looked first at the MOBAT and Rolling Thunder which had been moved into position along with Grand Slam's HAL. Then he studied Hot Spot. "I want Blast Off to watch the repairs; make sure the Prots don't do anything they shouldn't."

"That's fine," First Aid said. "I don't mind."

"Fair enough, then," Hawk said. "But I want to know what you know about Crowther."

"That's extra," Swindle said. "Brawl, get something from 'em first."

Brawl glanced back at Swindle, grunting. "Get us some fuel and get them started working on Onslaught and then we can talk about that other stuff."

"We don't exactly carry energon around as standard equipment," Hawk said. "But, I suppose we can see what we can do."

"Diesel will work for me an' Swindle; Vortex and Blast Off can take avgas."

"Fine. We'll get the supplies here ASAP, once the hostages are cleared from the area. Hot Spot, if you'll instruct First Aid to begin his repairs, you and Blades can help oversee the Combaticons' disarming."

"With pleasure, General Hawk. Streetwise and Groove will assist with the hostages."

"Suits," Hawk said. "In that case, Brawl, you and your teammates can get started disarming."

X X X

Forrest Forsythe entered General Crowther's office and smiled at the harried-looking general. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes! It's about damn time you got here," said Crowther, face verging on beet red. "Have you seen the news out of Pawtucket?"

"I was en route from my office, General," Forsythe said. "So the answer would be 'no.' What's the situation? Have the robots made any progress?"

"See for yourself." Crowther gestured toward his television set. The sound was, for the moment, muted but the images on the screen spoke for themselves.

On screen, a news helicopter was providing aerial footage of the Havefam corporate headquarters. The parking lot was a shattered wreck: cars had been tossed around like toys. The landscaped grounds were little more than occasional patches of green speckled over a muddy field. A line of people, office workers mostly, were filing out of the building in ones and twos and occasionally in small clusters. They were being escorted through the wreckage by green-clad soldiers, who in turn were being assisted by a pair of red and white robots.

Forsythe frowned. "What happened?"

"Reportedly, the Joes have subdued the Decepticons," Crowther said. "The Autobots sent 'observers' who are now assisting in the rescue operation of the hostages. But that's not the best bit."

Crowther picked up his remote control and unmuted the sound as the picture switched to the view of yet another red and white robot bent over what appeared to be a teal and olive-colored scrap heap[.

"As you can see, the Protectobot First Aid is working diligently to save the life of Combaticon leader Onslaught while the hostages are being led away from Havefam corporate headquarters toward the busses that will take them to an undisclosed location for further assistance." The footage cut from the scene to Hector Ramirez in the CNN studio. "At this time, the rest of the Combaticons are in protective custody at the scene; what will ultimately happen to them is unknown at this time but stay tuned for further updates as this incredible story develops."

Crowther slammed his fists on his desk. "I told them to stay out of this! Damn Prime and his interference! Damn Abernathy and his luck!"

"Relax, Crowther, we can still spin this to our advantage," Forsythe said. "You see luck, I see collusion -- not to mention an opportunity for further research into Cybertronian anatomy."

Crowther turned to look at him, as hopeful as a drowning man spotting a life preserver. "Tell me more."

X X X

Hawk, this time accompanied by Sci-Fi and Salvo, approached Brawl and his teammates. As they got closer, Hawk glanced over to where Mainframe and Cover Girl were assisting First Aid with the repairs on Onslaught. And, most especially, to where Blast Off stood nearby, keeping a close watch on the proceedings.

The Combaticons had also taken the time to make themselves comfortable. Brawl sat on a stack of demolished cars looking for all the world like some barbarian warlord straight out of Central Casting. Swindle and Vortex stood slightly off to one side, Swindle carefully inspecting Vortex's rotor blades for signs of damage. None of them gave even the slightest indication that they were concerned about Onslaught's situation -- though Hawk suspected all of them knew everything that was happening to their leader and not just because Blast Off was likely delivering minute by minute reports.

Hawk stepped up to the "Huns," his hands on his hips. He nodded acknowledgement to Hot Spot and Blades who were guarding the three Combaticons with the assistance of Zap, Grand Slam and two squads of Greenshirts.

"Alright." Hawk looked up at Brawl, meeting the robot's gaze. "We kept our part of the deal; now you boys need to keep yours -- how'd you come to attack us?"

Brawl grunted, gesturing for Swindle to step forward. "Tell him what he wants to know. The truth; you lie and you answer to me."

"Swindle's going to tell the truth?" Blades said. "Mark it on your calendar, folks. This is an event!"

"Cram it, Prot.' Swindle patted Vortex on the shoulder as he moved closer to Hawk. "It's not like there's that much to tell. Soundwave intercepted some communiqués about you guys training with the Autobots. Megatron wanted you swatted down an' since we're good at that kinda thing, he sent us. No big deal, at least not until you guys went and made it personal."

Swindle's overly casual tone made Hawk's fists itch and by the way Salvo was muttering under his breath, he wasn't the only one disgusted with the Combaticon's attitude. On the whole, it wasn't much different from that of many Cobra operatives Hawk had dealt with over the years -- certainly the blasé attitude toward mayhem and destruction wouldn't have been out of place among the Dreadnoks. But the Dreadnoks, at least technically, were still human rather than some obnoxious, self-important, inorganic alien thug.

With an effort, Hawk brought his thoughts and his temper back under control. "Alright," he said. "How'd you hear about General Crowther?"

"His name was all over the reports," Swindle said, looking skyward as if seeking patience. "Him and some geek named Forsythe were talking about the need to have a force capable of handling the Decepticon threat. The Joes were all they could talk about."

"Really?" Hawk thought a moment. "...any chance you have copies of these reports? With you, I mean?"

Swindle looked down at him, as crafty and conniving as Shipwreck trying to finagle a three-day pass. "Yeah, maybe but...what's in it for us?"

Before Hawk could answer, Brawl leaned forward and swatted the back of Swindle's head hard enough to make the smaller robot stagger. "Quit smarting off! Give them the info they want! Now!"

"I'm telling him what he wants!" Swindle whined, shifting his position so that he was almost out of Brawl's reach. "I just needed a sec to make a copy of the stupid files."

"Shut up and do it then," Brawl said. "Quit antagonizing the humans."

In a matter of moments, Swindle handed over a silver disc the size of a record album. "Here," he said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "That's got all the data we downloaded when we were planning the mission, more or less. Anything else you want? Plans for our base? Megatron's passwords?"

"Maybe later," Hawk said, handing the disc to Sci-Fi, who held it carefully. "Let me see what we have here and if we need more, I'll be back."

center b To Be Continued /b /center