Chapter 257: The Grand Pursuit

Suffering a setback for the first time in her career, especially during an operation under her direct command, left Mearing’s expression cold as ice.

Dawn was just breaking, the horizon painted in pale gray. When Lennox walked out to meet her convoy, she skipped all formalities and cut straight to the point.

“Where is Sentinel Prime? Where is Optimus? Bring them to me immediately!”

“Sentinel and Optimus?”

Lennox, having rushed out after receiving a sudden alert from his sentries, was still completely in the dark. He paused for a moment before replying, “Sentinel is inside the base. Optimus rolled out a short while ago on an outside patrol and hasn’t checked back in.”

“What?!” Hearing that their primary line of defense was down by half, Mearing’s composure cracked. “Damn it, where did he go? Get him on comms and have him return to base right now!”

Her overbearing tone made it sound as though she held supreme rank over the Autobots.

“Understood,” Lennox shrugged, long accustomed to her sharp edges. “I will raise him on the secure frequency.”

“Forget it, there’s no time,” Mearing waved him off, pushing past the colonel as she strode deeper into the compound. “I don’t have time to walk you through the details, Colonel. The situation is critical.”

“Pass the word down the chain right now. Tell your men to prep transport. I am moving Sentinel Prime.”

“I just received verified intelligence that the Decepticons are hunting him directly.”

“Skygnaw and Megatron could be en route to this coordinate as we speak. Both operate at the Prime tier, on par with Sentinel and Optimus. If they breach this perimeter…”

Mearing’s instincts were partly correct. Skygnaw was indeed on the move, though not toward Diego Garcia—he was trailing behind someone else’s tail.

Watching the high-speed convoy tearing down the interstate below, Skygnaw instructed the Dreads over the internal link to shadow Bumblebee’s group without breaking cover, then engaged his thrusters and vanished into the morning clouds.

Inside the Autobot compound, though Lennox had not been briefed on the full threat assessment, he carried out the directive with practiced efficiency.

“Move, move, move! Everyone on the line!”

“Whoa, brother, look at that! With all these boots moving, are we rolling out on a raid?”

The commotion drew plenty of onlookers. Skids and Mudflap leaned against an empty shipping container, trading banter back and forth.

“Optimus is out on patrol. What do you say we tag along this time?”

“Solid idea! If Sentinel is heading out, the action has to be—”

Lennox walked past, cutting off their eager planning on the spot.

“Negative, twins. You two are sitting this one out.”

“This isn’t an assault run. It’s a low-profile tactical relocation. Aside from Ironhide, everyone stays on site.”

“Make sure you keep active out on the tarmac so any outside eyes think Sentinel is still on base.”

“Not a fight?”

“And Sentinel gets stuffed into a metal container?”

“Forget it, then. We’re better off giving our fenders a fresh coat of clear gloss.”

Losing interest the moment combat was ruled out, the twins wandered away to the maintenance racks.

Across the staging floor, Mearing laid out the relocation plan to Sentinel Prime.

Sentinel listened with an unreadable faceplate. After a brief pause, he gave a steady nod.

“Very well. I accept your counsel to leave this post.”

He turned to bid farewell to the Autobots stationed across the bay, who gathered around him in quiet respect.

Sentinel Prime’s word carries immense weight here… Mearing noted, watching the veteran warriors salute their former commander, her thoughts already calculating the geopolitical leverage.

“Sentinel taught Optimus everything he knows,” Lennox murmured, stepping over before turning to Sergeant Epps. “Guide Sentinel into the heavy trailer. We move him like a standard equipment transfer. Keep the channel completely quiet.”

“Copy that, Colonel.”

Ten minutes later, Sentinel transformed into a crimson and black Rosenbauer Panther fire tender, rolling smoothly up the ramp of the reinforced carrier.

With Mearing’s agency detail running the advance screen and Lennox’s armored unit backing Ironhide in the rear guard, the transport carrying Sentinel was sealed safely in the center pocket.

Mearing had already mapped a secure fallback point: a hardened military depot inland from the coast.

The depot maintained strict information security, minimizing outside leaks, while housing enough defensive hardware to mount a defense if the Decepticons managed to trace their line.

The convoy accelerated toward the western highway, putting the airfield in their rearview mirror.

Diego Garcia was an isolated staging territory. Even with a dedicated strike detachment and the Autobot base established on its soil, its geographic remoteness remained an undeniable operational flaw.

Back at the hangars, the remaining Autobots watched the dust settle before turning back to their tasks.

Wheeljack returned to the assembly bench to calibrate his experimental payloads, while other warriors ran target drills and tested balance on upgraded chassis.

If setting up the base had solved their long-term fuel rationing, the salvage from the Ark—and Wheeljack’s arrival in particular—had provided an endless supply of field equipment. Nearly every Autobot on the roster had picked up an upgraded attachment or new firearm, all bearing Wheeljack’s signature touch.

As the team went about their routines, none realized a shadow was already descending over their perimeter.

An hour and twenty minutes after the transport pulled away, an alien strike craft accompanied by a massive heavy transport helicopter tore through the high clouds over Diego Garcia.

“This is the location…” Skygnaw murmured, scanning the solitary military outpost sitting in the scrub brush below.

He had adjusted his flight path following a remote transmission from Megatron, bringing Grindor straight to the Autobot base.

“What are those signatures?!”

Twin mechanical bogeys descending through the morning sun were impossible to miss, but the forward observation post on the outer perimeter raised the first alarm.

“Command, perimeter radar shows two unidentified airborne contacts entering restricted airspace. Target transponders non-responsive. Do we notify the Autobot hangar?”

“Count and altitude?”

“Two contacts, descending rapidly through three thousand feet.”

“Scramble the Autobots immediately!”

“Yes, sir!”

The sentry reached for the radio handset, though the call was already redundant.

Silverbolt was standing on the open tarmac when he looked up, his optics widening in instant recognition. “It’s Skygnaw! How did he trace this facility?!”

Having traded fire with him on Cybertron, Silverbolt remembered the signature vividly.

While the location of the base was no secret to human channels, with Optimus Prime on site, Decepticons rarely risked a frontal assault.

Yet Sentinel had just cleared the gates, and Optimus was still off-site. The timing was disastrously precise.

Silverbolt’s faceplate turned grim. Whether this strike was random or calculated, the base was vulnerable.

“Autobots, take up firing positions!”

Warriors poured from the lower bays, raising their heavy blasters skyward before Skygnaw’s craft could complete its glide path.

Pew, pew, pew—

Boom!

A volley of energy bolts and tracking shells traced bright streaks into the morning sky.

“Rudimentary greetings,” Skygnaw noted calmly.

The nose cannon of the strike craft flared crimson.

Fzzzt—

Concussion torpedoes detached from the undercarriage, trailing pale vapor trails toward the ground.

BOOM! BOOM!

Shockwaves ripped through the tarmac, throwing several Autobot defenders into the air before slamming them hard across the concrete.

A salvo from a Prime was not something ordinary frames could shrug off.

“Damn Decepticon scum!”

Silverbolt roared, preparing to scramble the Aerialbots into the sky, only to see the two attackers execute a hard flare and drop directly onto the central apron.

Clank.

Shifting into robot mode upon touchdown, Grindor surveyed the surrounding defenders, his heavy blades whirring eagerly behind his shoulders. “Lord Skygnaw, shall we rip these Autobots to scrap?”

Skygnaw cast a cold crimson glance in his direction, cutting the titan off before he could take another step.

Seeing Grindor pull back into line, Skygnaw turned away. Even a simple brawler like Grindor couldn’t suppress the standard Decepticon bloodlust when cornered targets presented themselves.

“Grindor, stick to the primary objective. Remember what we came for.”

“Understood, Lord Skygnaw.”

Noticing the sharp authority in Skygnaw’s tone, Grindor dropped his aggressive stance and broke into a heavy sprint toward the logistics bays on the far side of the field.

Skygnaw drew his dark blade and leveled his photon cannon, facing the center lane.

Over a dozen Autobots were closing in, weapons raised. Aside from a few unfamiliar frames, most were veterans of the old war.

“Combine!”

Silverbolt called out the moment his squad took positions.

Behind him, the Aerialbot unit initiated combined transformation protocols in synchronized sequence.

With Sentinel gone and Optimus absent, Silverbolt knew baseline firepower stood no chance against a Prime.

Their only hope lay in bringing Superion to the field.

Thud.

Five airframes locked together, forming a towering mechanical colossus that cast a shadow across the apron.

Skygnaw’s optics narrowed slightly, his spark surging with anticipation.

He hadn’t arrived to wipe out the installation, but facing a combined gestalt meant holding back was no longer an option.

“Superion… let us see if your courage matches your size.”

While combat ignited across the Diego Garcia airfield, a high-speed pursuit was unfolding across a four-lane highway fifty miles inland.

“Simmons, tell Chuck to step on it! Faster!” Sam shouted from the rear of the Maybach, his head twisted toward the rear window.

Three identical black utility vehicles were bearing down on their bumper, the driver seats completely vacant behind dark-tinted windshields.

Ten minutes earlier, Sam’s group had linked up with the relocation convoy on this stretch of highway.

Bumblebee, Sideswipe, and Dino had formed up to escort the transport, forcing Simmons’s luxury cruiser to take up the rear.

Just as the convoy neared the turnoff for the military depot, the three utility vehicles appeared on the horizon, moving in a coordinated arrowhead formation.

Sam spotted the silver insignia on the grilles instantly.

Decepticons!

“Lennox!” Sam snatched the field radio from Simmons, yelling into the mic over the roaring wind. “Lennox, come in! We’ve got Decepticons on our tail! Get Sentinel to the depot right now!”

Crackle… hiss…

Static hissed through the speaker before Lennox’s calm voice cut in:

“Sam, I don’t have eyes on the rear. Give me a count.”

“Three bogeys! Three pursuit units closing fast!”

“Understood. I’m dropping Bumblebee and Dino back to intercept. Keep your head down…”

Lennox relayed the warning to Mearing immediately.

Mearing leaned forward against the dashboard, her face tight with worry. She looked out the side glass, though the rear of the column was too far back to see.

“Colonel, handle it your way.”

When it came to operational combat, Mearing knew her limits; field engagements belonged to tactical commanders.

“Leave it to us, Director.”

At Lennox’s command, the transport and the escort trucks pushed their throttles forward.

Down the highway, the yellow Camaro and the crimson Ferrari slid across the lane markings, dropping speed to fall behind the main body.

“Bee!” Sam shouted as the two sports cars drifted past the Maybach.

Bumblebee tapped his horn twice in acknowledgment.

Dino, make it quick. Additional bogeys could be tracking this corridor.

Leave it to me, Bumblebee.

A dual heavy machine gun assembly deployed from Dino’s roof plate, pivoting smoothly across the rear deck. Under the bewildered stare of a passing trucker, the red machine opened fire on the three approaching SUVs.

Ratta-tatta-tat!

Bumblebee engaged his chassis-mounted pods, launching a pair of micro-missiles.

Instead of aiming for the pursuers, the rockets struck the steel scaffolding of a massive overhead billboard along the shoulder.

BOOM!

The lattice buckled, sending the steel frame crashing across the asphalt to block the lanes.

Bumblebee wasn’t trying to destroy the squad; he was buying space to keep the civilian traffic and Sam’s vehicle from getting caught in the blast radius.

“That’s it! Take them out, Bee!” Sam shouted, leaning over the door alongside Simmons.

“Let’s see them clear that wreck!” Simmons grinned, lowering his field glasses.

The celebration lasted less than two seconds.

“Hold on, they’re clearing the line!”

Beyond the twisted billboard, three armored figures leaped into the air, clearing the flaming debris in a single bound before shifting back into vehicle forms the moment their tires hit the pavement.

“They’re still on us! Call in more support!”

“Quiet down, kid! Bee’s team has handled worse than this!”

Dino, it’s the Dreads, Bumblebee signaled over the encrypted link. He had recognized their chassis profiles the second they transformed.

These were the specialized trackers Skygnaw had dispatched to tail Sam’s trail.

Dino, execute Plan B.

Acknowledged.

Screeech—!

Both Autobots slammed their brakes simultaneously, sliding into a coordinated drift that let the three pursuing vehicles blow past their flanks, placing the Autobots right on their bumpers.

“Time for the harvest!”

Dino shifted into robot mode, using his wheel casters to skate across the asphalt at eighty miles per hour before launching twin heavy grapple cables from his gauntlets.

Thwip—

Clank!

The hooks slammed into the nearest vehicle with lethal precision. Dragged off course, Hatchet was forced into his quadrupedal mechanical beast mode, clawing frantically at the asphalt to sever the steel cables.

It was too late.

Bumblebee surged forward, deploying his primary weapons systems to target the pinned Decepticon trailing behind Dino’s cables.

Boom!

A concentrated barrage punched straight through Hatchet’s core plating, tearing the mechanical beast apart across the open highway.

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