Mess With The Bull

Mind the Horns

There are two things in life for which we are never truly prepared: Twins. ~Josh Billings

"We've got a hit on a high value target," an analyst shouted across the busy command room. While the buzz of activity continued, there was no denying the sudden drop in noise as everyone listened eagerly to the news. Locating any targets had become more and more infrequent as their quarry got better at hiding, and this was a high value one. Only a couple names still sat on that particular list.

"Prime?" Harold Attinger stood straighter, hanging up on the nameless White House liaison he hadn't been listening to. All the man had to do was sign the forms, it wasn't as if his job was difficult, not like Attinger's. He could feel his mouth water at the thought of finally taking down the Autobot commander. It'd been weeks since their ambush had failed to end the semi. Oh they'd crossed Samuel Witwicky off of their list and dealt the Prime serious damage, but he'd still managed to escape. Attinger was certain he would not be so lucky next time.

"Negative." The analyst dashed his hopes. It was not the Prime, which meant it could only be one of the two others that had made it to their primary target list. "It's Sideswipe."

"The silver corvette?" While he wasn't the main objective, the slippery frontliner had proven far more elusive and troublesome than some of the others, earning his place near the top of Cemetery Wind's Most Wanted.

"He's a red Lamborghini now." The analyst brought up a traffic cam's grainy image of a driverless supercar. "He was flagged running a light in Vegas."

"Are you sure it's him?" They didn't have any lamborghinis on their list, neither Autobot or Decepticon. Was it really Sideswipe or someone new?

"Affirmative, he didn't hide changing his car mode." Another video appeared on screen from another traffic cam. The familiar shape of a silver corvette weaved through the traffic, pausing to pace a human-driven lambo for a moment before pulling away again. Only a breath after did his panels start folding on themselves, bleeding red as they took on the sharper lines of the other model.

"Cocky son of a bitch." Attinger grinned nevertheless; the Autobot's overconfidence would finally lead to his downfall. Speed dialing his number one, he didn't hide the satisfaction in his voice. "Savoy, speed racer is in Sin City with a new paint job."

"Middle of the desert, perfect. No place he can hide this time." Anticipation seeped through the line and the CIA operative was certain they would be toasting another dead alien this time tomorrow.

James Savoy dropped the call and ordered his men to mount up. They moved into a well organized fury, loading up everything they would need for this take down. No chances this time, he wasn't going to be allowed to get away. Double the men, double the guns, triple the mortars. No, Savoy wasn't going to leave any possibility of the nuisance slipping through his fingers again. Even if Lockdown wasn't responding to calls, it didn't matter, they didn't need him to do their job.

Within the hour, the fleet of SUVs and helicopters were inbound for Las Vegas. They would be there by sunrise.

Between the city cameras and stealth drones, Savoy knew exactly where the Autobot was at any given moment. The alien appeared to be under some impression of anonymity among the few other flashy cars of the city, but he couldn't hide from them. He could crawl into whatever hotel garage he chose, Savoy had him.

Hook, line, and sinker.

The rising sun greeted the ten modified SUVs blasting down the city streets, gaining raised brows from a few early risers seeking to beat the heat and crowds.

There, pulling away from the Bellagio, one driverless, cherry red Lamborghini. The SUVs surged ahead like bloodhounds on the trail. Tires squealing, Sideswipe noticed them immediately and tore away. Helicopter reinforcements buzzed overhead, strafing the Autobot's bumper to herd him where they wanted him. Sideswipe swerved, diving off the main drag and down narrow side streets. He kept just ahead of the SUVs, just out of range of the massive guns swiveling towards him on their rooftops. The choppers couldn't fire missiles on him in the tighter quarters, but they kept right on his rear, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of the city.