“So, how does that count as interrogation, Russell Clay?” Jetstorm asks, stretching out his joints.
“It doesn’t. I figured you get enough of that just by being Drift’s students,” Russell replies. “He’s really tough on you two.”
Slipstream and Jetstorm look at each other and slowly nod.
“Master Drift is tough on us, but it’s for our own good,” Slipstream says, defending their master. “And whatever he’s doing now, whatever reason he has for leaving, must be a good one.”
“So you don’t know why that Decepticon might act like he knew Drift?” Russell asks.
“Master Drift shares lessons with us, not his life story,” Slipstream replies.
Jetstorm coughs and nudges Slipstream in the side. Slipstream tries to act like he doesn’t notice, but Jetstorm does it again—and again. Finally, Slipstream comes out with it.
“Okay, fine!” Slipstream whispers angrily. “Master Drift did tell us one thing that is probably important.…”
Russell and Sideswipe lean in to hear Slipstream’s hushed information.
“Before Master Drift was Master Drift,” explains Slipstream, “he went by another name: Deadlock. And under that name, Master Drift wasn’t the honorable Autobot hero you know today—he was a Decepticon!”
Chapter 4
“Drift used to be a Decepticon?! Are you serious?” Bumblebee shouts, leaping out from behind a pile of old bicycles. “We let a traitor into our ranks?”
Strongarm climbs out from her own hiding spot under a stack of vintage carousel horses.
“You couldn’t have known, sir!” she says. “Decepticons are deceptive—why, it’s right there in the name! Although, there is protocol in place for background checks. If you had read handbook entry eight hundred sixteen, subsection eighty-seven, you’d know that.…”
“Not helpful, Strongarm!” Russell says. “And were you guys spying on us? Didn’t you trust us?!”
“Yeah, didn’t you trust them, Bee?” Grimlock asks, peering down from the roof of a nearby retired school bus. Russell shoots him an accusing look. “Hey, don’t look at me. I just come up here to catch some sun once in a while.” The Dinobot lies back down on his perch and stretches out, excusing himself from the conversation.
Bumblebee stands up to address Russell and the Mini-Cons.
“I do trust you, Russell, and I appreciate the honesty, Slipstream and Jetstorm,” he says. “But this is very serious. If Drift was communicating with Forager, he might also have been communicating with Steeljaw or other, even worse Decepticons. He could have been getting close to us to feed them intel on how to attack Earth.”
“Master Drift would never betray his word!” Slipstream shouts. “Master Drift is a bot of honor. He would never betray… us.”
Slipstream hangs his head in disappointment. Jetstorm moves to comfort his brother-in-arms, but Slipstream pulls away.
Sideswipe mulls over everything he’s heard from Slipstream and Bumblebee, along with the scene he witnessed last night. The typically hasty bot tries to recall exactly what Forager said to Drift before the stasis pod closed.
“Hey, Bee, I just thought of something,” Sideswipe says. “Forager said he recognized Drift from a moon or something, but it wasn’t an instant thing, right? He had to think about it first.”
Slipstream and Jetstorm look up at Sideswipe hopefully.
“So maybe Drift does have, you know, a past—just like Grim—but it’s all behind him now, and he’s just ashamed to admit it? We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.”
Bumblebee considers this thoughtfully.
Grimlock leans back over the roof of the bus to nod encouragingly.
“Well, sir, Sideswipe may be right,” Strongarm says, “but we have to consider the possibility that Drift is no longer allied with Forager and is afraid of compromising plans with other Decepticons.”
Slipstream and Jetstorm both groan in frustration.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t afford to take chances,” Strongarm adds. “We’ve already witnessed infighting among the Decepticons, so we need to be prepared for any outcome.”
“I’m afraid Strongarm is right,” Bumblebee says, addressing the Mini-Cons. “It might be hard to hear, but we have to brace ourselves for the worst until we can find Drift and get his side of this. And it doesn’t make me optimistic that he sped off when we tried to discuss it.”
The Autobots and Russell slowly trudge back toward the diner, their minds swirling with thoughts of betrayal and mistrust.
Suddenly, Fixit’s voice crackles over the speaker system.
“This is not a drill! Multiple Decepticon signals located!”
The Autobots all rush to the command center, where Fixit pulls up a holographic map. Two red beacons flash in the quarry a few miles from the scrapyard.
“Fixit, can you pull up information on these new Decepticons so we know who we’re facing?” Bee asks.
Fixit’s digits click-clack across the keyboard. He buzzes with confusion.
“I’m afraid not, Bee,” Fixit replies. “It looks like these Decepticons have obscured their signals!”
“Can you look up another signal for us?” Strongarm asks. “Can you track Drift?”
The Mini-Con goes back to speedily typing away. After a moment, Fixit shouts, “Aha!” and turns back around.
“Our systems are too weak to pick up most general bot signals unless they’re in the immediate area, but by rerouting the signal booster through the Energon relay—”
“Cut to the chase, please, Fixit,” Bumblebee interrupts politely.
“Base… case… I mean, ‘chase’ indeed, Bee!” Fixit replies, pointing to the screen. “There’s a signal that matches Drift’s size and shape moving right toward the two Decepticons!”
Slipstream and Jetstorm give each other worried looks—as do Bee and Strongarm, but for different reasons.
“We must find and assist Master Drift!” Jetstorm pleads. “We don’t know how powerful those Decepticons might be, and he’s headed right for them!”
Bumblebee agrees with the Mini-Con. He orders everyone to gather up and head out, except for Jetstorm and Slipstream. The disappointment is clear on their faces.
“You two stay behind and protect Russell, Denny, and Fixit in case one of the Decepticons breaks away and comes here,” Bee instructs. “We’ll go help your master.”
The two smaller bots reluctantly accept the Autobot leader’s commands. Bee changes into his shiny yellow vehicle mode and leads Strongarm, Sideswipe, and Grimlock out the gate, racing into the woods toward the three signals.
Once they’re out of earshot of the others, Strongarm drives up close to Bee and whispers to her commanding officer.
“Sir, you know there’s a possibility that Drift is moving toward the Decepticons on purpose, right?” Strongarm says. She hesitates, not wanting to finish saying what she’s thinking. “That he might be meeting up with his—”
“Don’t say it, Strongarm,” Bee interrupts. “I know what you’re thinking. And I’m afraid your suspicion might be right. Drift isn’t accidentally heading toward trouble—he’s meeting up with his Decepticon allies to cause it!”
Chapter 5
As Bumblebee, Strongarm, Sideswipe, and Grimlock race toward the Decepticon beacons, Russell does his best to keep Drift’s anxious Mini-Cons occupied at the scrapyard.
“Tag, you’re it!” Russell shouts, bopping Jetstorm on the shoulder and running off. The Mini-Con does not move to follow.
“I am not it, Russell Clay,” Jetstorm replies morosely. “Unless ‘it’ means ‘depressed.’”
Russell frowns. He turns to his dad for help.
“Hey, guys!” Denny says in his characteristically cheery voice. “I just got a shipment of retro video-game cartridges, and I need help blowing on them to see which ones still work. Think you guys are fit for duty?”
Jetstorm and Slipstream are too honor-bound to resist a call to help. They bo
th stand at once and bow to Denny.
“We will assist you in your task, Denny Clay,” they say in unison.
“Yeah, that sounds great!” Fixit adds. “Maybe while we do that, I can tell you all about how I once subdivided the power coupler to—”
“Sure thing, Fixit,” Denny says, cutting him off. “Whatever floats your boat.”
“Oh, Denny Clay,” Fixit chuckles. “This was on a trans-galactic space shuttle, not a boat! Really, humans are so odd sometimes.”
As the Clays keep the Mini-Cons occupied, the Autobots zoom through the woods toward the flashing beacons. Bee screeches to a stop at the edge of the forest where the trees clear and the land slopes down into the quarry.
“Okay, bots, this is where Fixit’s tracker leads,” Bumblebee whispers, changing into robot mode and peering down at the device in his hands. “That means Drift should be right… there!”
Bumblebee points across the quarry, where Drift’s sleek sports car form kicks up a storm of dust. “But where are the Decepticons? The tracker shows that Drift is nearly on top of them.”
“Maybe they’re camouflaged!” suggests Strongarm.
“Maybe they’re really small!” offers Sideswipe.
“Maybe they’re ghosts!” adds Grimlock, prompting blank looks from his teammates. “What? Rusty always makes me watch scary movies with him. You never know!”
Bumblebee quiets his team. As they watch, Drift rushes right past the Decepticon signals and plows into the forest on the other side of the quarry.
“There’s something strange going on here,” Bumblebee says, leaping into vehicle mode once more. “Follow me.”
The Autobot leader steers down into the quarry, taking the same path Drift just blazed. The dust is still settling when they arrive at the location of the beacons. Bumblebee, Strongarm, and Sideswipe switch back to their bot modes.
“Great, so Fixit created another busted invention,” Sideswipe says, looking around the seemingly empty quarry. “Can we get a move on and catch up with Drift?”
“Wait a minute, exhaust-for-brains,” Strongarm says, crouching down. “What are these?” The law-bot holds up a pair of small metal discs with blinking red lights on them. “They look like—”
“BOMBS!” Grimlock shouts. He snatches the discs out of Strongarm’s hands and hurls them across the quarry. “EVERYONE, DOWN!” The Dinobot hits the ground with a thud and the other bots follow. After a minute with no explosion, Sideswipe raises his head.
“Uhh, guys, shouldn’t we have blown up by now?” the young Autobot says, peering around.
“Be quiet, Sideswipe!” Strongarm hisses. “Explosive ordinance protocol clearly states that—”
“Hold that thought, cadet,” Bumblebee says, springing up and running in the direction of the discs. Bumblebee picks one up, checks the tracker in his hand, and then hurls the disc back in the direction of the other Autobots, scattering them. “I knew it!”
Strongarm carefully peers out from behind a boulder. “Knew what, sir?”
“These aren’t bombs. They’re fake Decepticon signals,” Bumblebee says, picking up the remaining disc and crushing it between his digits. “Someone left them here to distract us and get us away from the scrapyard.” Bumblebee quickly dials Fixit on his communicator, but the quirky little Mini-Con doesn’t pick up. “Forget Drift, we need to get back now!”
Unbeknownst to Team Bee, another set of bots is on their way toward the scrapyard. Just inside the tree line that surrounds the yard’s outer fence, two escaped prisoners conspire and plot.
They are the dangerous Decepticons known as Foxtrot and Stilts. Foxtrot is a cunning and sly rust-colored bot, with a big round tail and pointed, alert audio sensors. Stilts is all length: long legs, long neck, long beak—with a gleaming white sheen and a bright red crown that glints in the sun.
Both bots are safely under the cover of the signal disruption field built into Stilts’s large wings.
“It looks like those disgusting do-gooder Autobots just found my signal decoys,” Foxtrot hisses, tapping at a console embedded in his tail. “The microcameras captured two of them. I’ll program holo-cloaks of each, and we can waltz into their compound with ease. My scans show that there are just three Mini-Cons left inside.”
Foxtrot punches in a few more codes and two small discs pop out of his tail. “Here, you take the big green one, and I’ll keep the nerdy-looking yellow one.”
The Decepticons fix the discs to their chests, press a button, and, in a flash, they’re covered in pitch-perfect holograms of Grimlock and Bumblebee!
“A Dinobot?” Stilts says, looking down at himself with a wicked laugh. “Guess I’ll have to act extra dumb to match my new look.”
Inside the diner, Fixit gets a ping that the perimeter sensors have been tripped. He pulls up a visual of “Grimlock” and “Bumblebee” walking toward the scrapyard’s entrance, limping and looking wounded. Denny tells Russell to stay put and tasks Jetstorm to watch him.
Denny, Fixit, and Slipstream sprint out to attend to the disguised Decepticons at the front gate.
“Bee, are you okay?” Denny asks. “What happened to Sideswipe and Strongarm?”
“And Master Drift!” Slipstream adds.
The bot they believe to be Grimlock cracks an awful smile full of sharp teeth. He unhooks a capsule from his waist and tosses it at Slipstream and Denny.
WHOOSH!
It explodes into a giant net on impact, trapping the two of them tightly inside!
“Nothing… yet,” Stilts sneers.
He drops the hologram, revealing himself as a tall birdlike Decepticon.
Fixit tries to zoom away, but pretend-Bumblebee snatches him up.
“Not so fast, scrap metal,” Foxtrot says, dropping his hologram.
He dangles the Mini-Con upside down.
“You’re going to show us where you’re keeping Forager. The Ronin may not follow any masters, but we take care of our own!”
Chapter 6
“Did you hear something?” Russell asks, nervously peering out the diner windows. Jetstorm gently pulls the young human back.
“Let me take a look first, Russell Clay,” Jetstorm says, steeling himself for action. “I am honor-bound to protect you under your master’s orders.”
Russell rolls his eyes. “He’s not my master, Jetstorm. He’s my dad!”
Jetstorm slinks silently out the diner door. He quickly freezes in his tracks when he sees Stilts approach with Denny and Slipstream strung over his shoulder in a net! Jetstorm darts inside and pulls Russell into a back room. The front door creaks slightly as it closes.
“What was that?” Stilts asks, bending his long crane-like neck toward the sound. “I thought there were only three Mini-Cons left on this base.”
Denny twists around in the net.
“I, uh, dropped my hubcap,” he says.
Stilts peers over his shoulder at his captives.
“You’re an odd-looking bot,” the Decepticon observes. “A little… soft to be a Cybertronian.”
“Beep boop bop?” Denny replies.
He wiggles in the bag, doing his best impression of a robotic dance that was popular in his youth. It is not very convincing.
Stilts glares and keeps walking.
Once they are gone, Jetstorm emerges from the back room and peeks outside again.
“Your master and my brother-in-arms have been captured, Russell Clay!” Jetstorm whispers to Russell. “The ones we thought to be Bumblebee and Grimlock must have been… Decepticons in disguise! We must escape! Climb onto my back and hold tight.”
With Russell clinging to him, Jetstorm slips out the diner’s back door and begins hopping, ninja-like, from junk pile to junk pile toward the exit.
On the way, they spot Foxtrot carrying a struggling Fixit toward the stasis pod controls. Jetstorm and Russell want nothing more than to help their teammates, but they know they are no match for Decepticons on their own.
Once they are safely o
utside the scrapyard, the pair hunker down in the woods.
“This isn’t right, Jetstorm,” Russell pleads. “I have to go back and rescue my dad!”
“I understand, Russell Clay,” Jetstorm responds. “But we need help. We need to find Master Drift! Er, and the other bots.”
Jetstorm attempts to contact Bumblebee on his wrist communicator, but he only hears static.
Without a message or a map, Russell climbs onto Jetstorm’s back once again and the two of them head off in the same direction as their friends, hoping to intercept them in transit.
Back inside the scrapyard, Stilts overturns an old shark-diving cage to form a makeshift prison for Denny and Slipstream.
“This should keep you out of my gears for now,” the Decepticon remarks.
Foxtrot turns to Fixit and points a sharp claw at the Mini-Con. “Release the Ronin,” he commands.
Fixit refuses to unlock Forager’s stasis pod.
“No pay… ray… way!”
Furious, Foxtrot pulls out a blaster and aims it at the captives.
“I’m feeling a little rusty and could use the target practice!” he sneers.
The twitching Mini-Con reluctantly complies, too nervous to protest again. After a few keystrokes, Forager’s cell slips open with a hiss and a pop.
“Ah, whatta nap!” Forager says, stretching and yawning. “I knew I could count on you fellas to spring me.”
Forager, Foxtrot, and Stilts exchange an overly complicated handshake with lots of quick movements and jerky jabs.
“Ronin take care of their own, Forager,” Foxtrot says, stuffing the no-longer-useful Fixit into the prison with Slipstream and Denny.
“It’s funny you guys should mention that,” Forager replies, popping a lockpick out of his finger and picking absentmindedly at his shiny metal teeth. “Right before I got pinched and stuffed in that cooler, I saw an old buddy palling around with these Autobots. Remember Deadlock? He was that samurai-bot, real into honor and stuff.”
Drift's Samurai Showdown Page 2
