CHAPTER FOUR
--England, Earth--
"Rodimus! You're driving on the wrong side of the road!"
The red sports car had barely heard Ultra Magnus over the blaring horn of the oncoming pickup. With a screech, he veered over to the left and joined the other Autobots in the proper lane. The other car zoomed past, its driver shouting a word that was no doubt rude in the human tongue.
"What the hell were you doing?" reprimanded the white cab driving alongside Rodimus, carrying four other Autobots in its blue and red trailer.
"I was driving on the right side of the road!" Rodimus replied. "I thought that was--"
"That's only in America," said Arcee, driving ahead of the entourage in her motorcycle form. "Here, it's the left side."
"Well, why change it? Why can't they pick a side and stick with it?"
"Yeah, like Drift!" The red muscle car in Magnus' trailer roared with laughter.
"You're a riot, Cliffjumper," Arcee muttered. "Now quiet down. We're nearly there."
The convoy of Autobot cars continued down the highway. Fortunately, no further incidents occurred along the way and, even more fortunately, no one seemed to pay the strange assemblage of automobiles so much as a second glance. While the Autobots may have gone public, they didn't necessarily mean everyone was going to be cool with alien robots on their roads.
Luckily, Brainstorm and Perceptor had thought ahead in that regard and had created modified holomatter avatars for them to utilize. These projections, now more reflective of their personalities to avoid what Brainstorm called the "uncanny valley", could now better interact with their environments and other humans. No one would even suspect of them being robots in disguise.
"We're not all going into this 'pub' are we?" asked Cliffjumper as they came closer to their destination. "Not all of us are great at, er, 'human interaction.'"
"Don't worry," Arcee said. "Only Rodimus, Bumblebee, Rewind and I are going in. You guys can wait outside; let us know if you or the others spot anything."
"Will do," Magnus said as they drove up to the pub. "Good luck. And... try not to get into any trouble."
"Relax, Mags," Rodimus said, his orange vest-wearing avatar emerging from his alt mode. "I'll keep an optic on them."
Magnus said. "I was afraid of that...."
* * *
"So. Ex-Decepticon, eh?"
Despite being in jet mode, Stormshot was able to convey her discomfort at the question by accelerating her engines a bit. The other jet caught up to her, flying just below her wing.
"Hey, relax. I'm not calling you out or anything," Jetfire said. "I just couldn't help but notice the faded insignia underneath your wings."
A soft rumble emitted from Stormshot's engine. "Why do you care?" she muttered.
"Because I can relate. I used to be one of them as well."
"So I've heard. Don't pretend to think that puts us on equal footing."
"Hey, I know it's probably a personal thing to ask," Jetfire replied. "I suppose it is easier for me since I defected not long after Megatron came into power, so I didn't have to worry about things like the D.J.D. or--"
Without warning, Stormshot blasted ahead, moving at a speed which the much larger Jetfire could not keep up with. The white and red jet sighed to himself.
"God, I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut."
* * *
"Come on, Hound, there's nothing here."
"Oh, so I'm just imagining that moldering ruin," the green Autobot replied, standing atop one of the Scottish Highlands many mountain ranges. "Guess I should get my optics checked then."
Crosshairs grunted as he looked back at the abandoned castle, poised over a great lake. It was surrounded by fences and signs with urgent warnings. As far as he could tell, there was absolutely nothing of interest to the ruin.
"It's not worth our time," Crosshairs said, turning back to return to the awaiting Sky Lynx. "Let's just keep looking. I don't think Magnus would have any interest in decrepit buildings."
"Fine," Hound murmured, giving the castle one last look before following Crosshairs. Had either of them glanced back, they might have spotted an old, light blue Ford Anglia zip around the castle before retreating back into the foreboding forest whence it came.
* * *
"Rodimus, I really don't think you should be drinking that much."
"Relax, 'Bee," Rodimus said, setting down his foaming mug of beer. "Human fuels are nowhere near as inebriating as ours."
"That's what I mean!" Bumblebee hissed, worry etched onto his avatar's face. "We're supposed to be pretending to be human! It is physically impossible for them to consume as much as you just did without passing out!"
Rodimus grinned. "Maybe I'm just that good."
"Excuse me, guys." A young blond-haired man sidled past them, raising a video camera to his face. "I need to record this."
"Rewind, I'm pretty sure filming people without their knowledge is frowned upon here," Bumblebee said.
"Too bad, because this is gonna be a historic moment."
Both Autobots heard a yelp and turned to see a burly man with hairy arms withing in pain on the floor. Walking away from him was a tall woman in a leather jacket, blue highlights in her dark hair.
"I didn't know humans could be so persistent," Arcee muttered.
"What did you do to him?"
"I assumed he was attacking me so I kicked him between the legs. Only thing I could think to do without my arm blades."
"Well...." Bumblebee regarded the agonized man, who had since become the subject of jeers from the other patrons. "I wouldn't say you were wrong in your assumption."
"So have you guys found anything?" Arcee asked, sitting down at their table. "Or am I the only one who cares about the mission?"
Rodimus took another swig of beer before answering. "George says that there's a Sir Edmund Burton who lives at Folgan Castle, just on the edge of London."
Arcee furrowed her eyebrows. "Who's George?"
"The pub tender."
"The tender? You asked the tender?"
"Yeah. Who did you ask?"
Arcee shook her head, sighing. "I doubt we'll get anywhere with Burton. Fowler made it sound like he was a nutcase."
"Still, it's somethin. I mean, we have to start somewhere." After finishing his drink, Rodimus stood up from the table. "All right. Let's burn rubber."
"Oi, mate!" the pot-bellied pub tender called out. "You gonna pay yer tab?"
Rodimus flipped him a coin. "Keep the change, Georgey."
With that, the four Autobots left the pub before George could stop them. "Hey!" he shouted. "American money ain't worth nothin' here! Get back here!"
* * *
Stormshot wasn't sure where she was anymore, nor did she care. This entire mission was a waste; why did she even sign up for it?
Picking up a stone, she tossed it into the lake. It landed with a loud ker-plunk and sprayed her with water. She kicked the dirt in frustration. How could humans makes stones skip so easily?
Glancing up, she saw a winged object hovering in the sky. That was Jetfire, no doubt, come to get her. Or Sky Lynx. Maybe she could convince the shuttle to take her back to Autobot City; heck, maybe she could ask him to regale her with one of his stories to help pass the time. Primus knew he--
She moved with a start as the object got closer. That ship was definitely not Sky Lynx or Jetfire. It was the Peaceful Tyranny.
The Decepticon Justice Division were here.
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