Quickly righting himself, Knockout cautiously eased out from the human vehicle beneath which he had taken momentary refuge. Neither Decepticon was moving very much. They would recover, of course. But being of equal strength, they had visited upon each other equal impact. Sure enough, as he looked on, crumpled metal began to unfold and renew shape. Bangs and creaks filled the small street. Those few humans in the immediate vicinity who had been awakened by the crash decided that in the absence of screams from any injured drivers the accident was now a matter for the police. Untroubled, they returned to their beds.
“Disrespecting … Autobot …” Methodically regenerating, a shaken Deadend stammered as he fought to regain his shape. “You … will … die slowly for … what you have … done.”
“I don’t think so,” countered Knockout as a towering shape appeared behind him. At the same time, Swindle managed to restore a missile launcher. Rising slowly, he took aim at the front of the motorcycle.
Appearing behind Knockout, the just-arrived and fully transformed Ratchet fired once and blew off the Decepticon’s reviving gun arm.
High overhead Starscream followed the fight as best he could. “Deadend, Swindle—get out of there! You forget yourselves! Move—now!”
The two Decepticons hesitated. Though both had been damaged by the collision, they were still fully capable of fighting. But Starscream’s fury, if not his direct order, persuaded them to comply. As Ratchet tried to follow, the pair ducked down a side street that was barely wide enough for them to negotiate. Frustrated, the bigger Autobot could only retract his weapons as he and Knockout watched their quarry escape.
Bursting with hatred and frustration, the Decepticon leader’s cry flared on all Cybertronian communications frequencies.
“Optimus Prime! You and your inferiors have put down your last Decepticon! I defy you, once and for all eternity, to make an end to this conflict. I challenge you to single combat between us, the winner to assume dominance over this planet and its swarming organic hordes!”
Slowing slightly on the still-almost-empty Via Fiori Imperiali, Optimus directed his response skyward. “I accept your challenge, Starscream, though we Autobots seek no dominance or control over any other sentient beings. Name the time and place.”
“Here and now!” the thwarted leader of the Decepticons screamed. “Just ahead of you there is a large and primitive human structure in which, according to my records, human warriors once engaged in personal combat. It will prove a suitable venue for your termination! I await you there. You and you alone—lest you are too cowardly to meet me without the backing of your fellow Autobot renegades!”
A thunderous howl could be heard as the descending Starscream approached the Colosseum from the opposite side. Within the diesel’s cab, Lennox found himself conflicted at the thought of the looming clash.
“I don’t like it, Optimus. Starscream must know you can beat him.”
“In a calm and reasoning moment he knows that,” the Autobot leader replied via the truck’s radio. “But at present he is neither calm nor reasoning. Yet again his intentions have been frustrated, and again by the smallest member of our company. At such times even the most calculating Decepticon may give in to uncontrolled rage. This is an opportunity to end the war once and for all. And as Starscream himself points out, the venue could not be more appropriate.”
“Uh, you can beat him, can’t you?” asked Epps guardedly.
“If I did not believe so then I would not take the risk. There is too much at stake.”
Lennox shook his head doubtfully. “He’s planning something. This is Starscream we’re talking about. He may be daring, but he’s not stupid.”
Optimus’s confidence filled the truck cab. “Ironhide, Ratchet, and Knockout are all present. They can position themselves outside the ancient structure Starscream has chosen for combat and be ready to counter any kind of surprise attack. And,” he added, and both men were sure they could detect a touch of quiet satisfaction in Optimus’s voice, “while I said that I would confront Starscream unsupported by any of my fellow Autobots, nothing was said with regard to humans.”
“That’s right.” A smile crossed the captain’s face.
“You, Sergeant Epps, Kaminari, and our rifle-carrying friend Petr can place yourselves to best advantage within this structure. Should another Decepticon or more choose to meddle in the forthcoming fight you will be in excellent position to intervene.”
Epps was hesitant. “Our sabot rounds have an effect, but a couple of shells won’t stop a Decepticon.”
“You do not need to stop one if it intercedes: only to occupy its attention. Should that occur, then at that point Starscream will have abrogated the terms of our contest and my companions will be freed to engage. I would not want to be an intruding Decepticon should it find itself suddenly confronted by Ironhide, Ratchet, and Knockout all at once.”
Lennox nodded slowly. “This will be the end of it, then—as long as you can beat Starscream.”
“Have a little confidence, Captain.” Appropriately reassuring martial music began to pour from the cab’s speakers.
In the dark of predawn the outline of the ancient Colosseum loomed stark and uninviting, its pale limestone walls visible even in the absence of moonlight. Informed by local authorities who were in regular contact with Lennox and Epps that a secretive military exercise was about to take place in their immediate vicinity and ordered to seek shelter, the monument’s bemused but responsive nighttime security personnel rushed to vacate the area. None of them could envision the kind of gladiatorial contest that was about to take place on ground where thousands of years earlier desperate individuals clad in considerably less armor had fought and died.
Starscream arrived first, converting spectacularly from F-22 to full-fledged Decepticon as wings became legs. He landed with both feet among the ruins of the ancient floor. Rolling in through a far portal that had been enlarged many years earlier to allow repair and restoration equipment to enter the center of the stadium, Optimus shifted into his towering, gleaming self. Outside, a quartet of seemingly mismatched vehicles spread out to keep watch. Within the stone walls the four humans grouped themselves together high up in the age-worn grandstands, taking cold seats on the two-thousand-year-old equivalent of the midfield stripe. As Lennox and Epps checked their equipment and each loaded his launcher with a hot round, Kaminari and Petr found themselves utterly absorbed in the looming face-off below.
“They should use swords and shields,” she murmured as she looked on in fascination.
“They might yet.” For once, Petr Andronov did not allow himself to be distracted by nearby arachnids, or the weather, or a tiny flowering weed that was growing out of a crack in the ancient stone. “We are privileged, I think, to be witness to a battle the likes of which has never before been seen on our world. Or even imagined.”
The Colosseum’s storied, much-bloodied original floor of sand-covered wood had long since decayed away, leaving the hypogeum, or underground, open to the night sky. The exposed ranks of parallel, crumbling stone walls and arches would make footing difficult for the combatants. The complex network of subterranean pathways, cage areas for wild animals, and staging platforms meant that instead of clashing on a level surface, the two armored fighters would have to negotiate, bash their way through, or leap over intervening barriers. Starscream was already maneuvering for position. As if reading Kaminari’s thoughts, one arm had transformed into an enormous, glistening, studded metal club.
“It is to be hand weapons then?” Optimus spoke calmly as the two combatants circled each other, both looking for an opening. His right arm contorted. When it had re-formed, he was wielding the same immense battle sword with which he had terminated Bonecrusher. “For once you make a fitting decision, Starscream.”
Starscream dropped slightly into a fighting crouch. “Yes. Just like old times on Cybertron. With one exception: now I am leader of the Decepticons.”
Optimus stared stolidly
across at his enemy. “I fear your leadership will be short-lived. Even if I do not defeat you here today, there are already those within your own faction who plot against you, and to raise their old master.”
Starscream hesitated for a moment imperceptible to human thought. He remembered all too well his recent betrayal on Cybertron by the traitor Dreadwing. But surely those Decepticons who’d come to Earth had done so out of allegiance to him, Starscream? No matter. If there were more traitors among them, he would deal with them as he had Dreadwing. With extreme prejudice.
“Nice try, Prime. But you can’t deceive a Decepticon.”
Whereupon several simple mechanical latches gave way simultaneously and Optimus Prime plunged out of sight.
He had not detected the hinges because their workings utilized nothing of an electrical nature. No switches, no cables, nothing to which his electronically synced senses were attuned. Similarly, he had not thought to deep-scan the ground beneath his feet because it was already riddled with innumerable tunnels and corridors and storage areas from hundreds of years of ancient digging and excavation.
In contrast, the void into which he plummeted was of recent origin. Though it was not particularly deep, he did not have the opportunity to prepare for the shock of hitting bottom. Instead the bottom was boosted sharply to make contact with him. So were the sides of the cavity. Unlike the recently reconditioned surface over which the taunting Starscream had deftly maneuvered him and through which he had subsequently fallen, the material that now surrounded him was metal and not stone. Massive, unyielding, well-forged metal.
Taking the shape of a gigantic industrial vise, it enveloped him from beneath and on all four sides. Driven by huge pistons powered by unseen generators, it locked him in place and immobilized him far more securely than had the simple nets the now disbanded Sector Seven forces had once used to capture Bumblebee.
Joints straining, Optimus struggled to free himself from the trap. At any moment he expected a triumphant Starscream to drop down beside him and shove a cannon into his face. But strangely, the leader of the Decepticons was nowhere to be seen in the circle of starlit night that loomed overhead.
Quite unexpectedly, the unassuming figure of a single human appeared, emerging from a small side tunnel. He was stylishly dressed in the manner of his kind. A small cylinder of paper-wrapped weed protruded from his lips. It was on fire, but this did not seem to trouble the human. Casually, as if this were something he saw every day, the man contemplated the towering Autobot securely restrained before him.
“So you’re Optimus Prime.” The human’s voice was soft yet somehow thick with menace. “I would have thought you would have been bigger.”
The leader of the Autobots glared down at the human. “You are responsible for this? You have allied yourself with Starscream and the Decepticons against your own kind? What sort of human are you?”
“The self-interested sort. My name is Bruno Carerra. I build things.” Removing the smoking cylinder from his mouth, he used it to gesture at the massive five-sided vise that pinned Optimus like a mouse in a trap. “My people built this.” Turning, he indicated the access tunnel from which he had emerged. “Back in that direction is where we’re building part of a new subway line. The city authorities won’t allow it to run any closer to the Colosseum because they’re afraid the vibrations from the trains might damage the foundations here and at the Forum. But the main tunnel is close enough to permit access via a clandestine subsidiary passageway to this part of the Colosseum’s original sub-basement. We had to work very quickly, of course, but we had help. It’s amazing how much dirt and rock a Decepticon can move when it is properly motivated.” He took another puff on the smoking cylinder protruding from his mouth.
“It seems that the prospect of your ultimate demise constitutes more than sufficient motivation.”
Throughout the entirety of the human’s speech Optimus’s servos continued to strain at the imprisoning vise. Already he could feel one corner of the mechanical snare beginning to weaken at its bottom hinge. They would not succeed in trapping him here. From above he could hear the distant sounds of heavy fighting. That was where Starscream had gone, he realized. To attack the other Autobots. He strained anew and another hinge started to give. In a few moments he would be free to aid his companions. Then they would finish Starscream and once and for all finally free this world from the threat posed by the Decepticons.
As for the individual quietly taunting him, Optimus would leave his fate to be decided by his fellow humans. He did not think it would be pretty.
The man turned to go. “I’ll leave you now, Optimus Prime. I will soon have a great deal to do. There will be much to administer, many orders to give.” He smiled at the thought. “Commands, really. Oh, and one more thing. There’s someone else here who wants to talk to you. As it promises to be a noisy conversation, I’ll leave the two of you to your privacy.” With that he turned and disappeared back into the tunnel.
Once more alone in the trap, Optimus pushed and shoved against the metal slabs that continued to restrain him. He heard as well as felt the hinge on one corner of the enormous vise give way with an unmistakable metallic snap.
Hold on, Ironhide, and the rest of you. I will be at your side in a moment.
If Starscream believed that any kind of human construction could restrain him for very long, Optimus thought determinedly, then the Decepticon had miscalculated for the very last time.
As he resumed his struggle a high, vertical metal panel that he had assumed had been put in place to hold back loose rock and earth revealed itself to be another doorway. One that was far larger than the portal through which the scornful human had departed. Optimus halted his struggling. A shape was becoming visible behind the opening door. It was massive, metallic, and intimidating. A pair of burning red eyes met Optimus’s own. The voice that issued from the gleaming mouth was deep and foreboding.
“Greetings, Optimus. Greetings for the last time.”
It was Barricade.
Even more clearly than the crash that had sounded from the interior of the Colosseum, the three Autobots standing watch outside had heard the troubled transmission from their leader. But before they could go to his aid, they had barely changed shape when they found themselves set upon by the leader of the Decepticons. With Starscream throwing himself at them in a fury the three Autobots had enough to do to keep from being overwhelmed. Had Ironhide not been present the battle would have ended quickly and badly for Ratchet and Knockout, staunch though they were.
Firing at the far more powerful Starscream with little effect, a worried Ratchet wondered at the Autobot leader’s continued absence from the fight. Occasional fragments of transmission drifted through, but they were incomplete, as if Optimus’s broadcasts were being blocked, intercepted, scrambled, or a combination of all three by some heavy metal or electronic barrier.
Something slammed hard into Ratchet’s left side as the furious Starscream pressed his attack. For the time being the smaller Autobot was too busy to concern himself with Optimus’s current condition. Besides, with Starscream fully occupied with the three of them, the leader of the Autobots was doubtless all right and would be arriving to join the battle as soon as he cleared away whatever minor impediment was delaying him.
“You are a devoted follower of Megatron.” As he continued to exert every one of his servos to escape the imprisoning vise, Optimus worked to engage Barricade’s full attention. “What are you doing groveling at the orders of a deceiver like Starscream?”
“Megatron is dead,” the huge Decepticon rumbled. “I am a soldier. In his absence I follow the orders of Lord Starscream.”
“How do you know Megatron is dead?”
“There are many images available of the final conflict in which his Spark was extinguished, and of his burial in this world’s deepest ocean. Starscream is master of all Decepticons now. His orders are to kill you.” A few errant sparks flew from the Decepticon warrior’s activated armam
ents. “It is an order I did not need to be given.”
He moved nearer, unafraid to match Optimus’s stare photon for photon. “As I have often said, it is a large galaxy. Yet it is amazing how often the lives of two such as ourselves can cross.” A heavily armed arm started to rise. “Your life ends here, Optimus Prime … ouch!”
Ouch? Optimus’s perceptors scanned the blackness of the pit into which he had fallen. What he saw made him redouble his efforts yet again.
An angry Barricade whirled, searching the darkness. “Something stung me.”
The voice that replied was small, but its volume was magnified by the enclosing walls. “That’s what we insects do.”
“What is thi—ow!” Letting out another yell Barricade reached up, started to slap himself on his right shoulder, just to remember that the weapons systems on that arm were activated, partially deactivated them in time to avoid blowing off his own arm, and struck himself forcefully.
But Kaminari Ishihara had already darted behind his head. As she did so, Petr Andronov took aim from the ground and fired at the back of the Decepticon’s neck with his rifle. A burst of electricity shot through the startled metal giant, jolting his internal stabilizers and causing him to stagger briefly.
He staggered more when Lennox yelled “Fire!” and both he and Epps let loose with their launchers. Directed toward the same spot on the Decepticon’s right leg, the two sabot rounds struck Barricade just a little too high above the critical joint to bring him down. But they did cause him to grab at his knee. Hopping violently on one foot, he shook off the human who had been clinging to the back of his neck. Tumbling toward the ground like a gymnast dismounting from the uneven parallel bars, Kaminari landed lithely on her feet and raced to rejoin her companions. The ropes they had appropriated from one of the Colosseum’s renovation storage areas and had used to descend silently into the pit behind Barricade hung limp against the wall nearby.
The Veiled Threat Page 22
