The Saboteur and His Puzzle

Chapter Two

Clinton laid down in his bed that night. His eyes were scanning the text on the book he read about a million times. He didn't mind though. His heavy comforter lay over him and the light of his lamp was dim and would flicker from time to time. Clinton didn't know the precise time he began reading but he knew it was late. The sun was gone and the house was quiet. Clinton shifted his position and glanced at the red units shining brightly on his clock. 10:44. Clinton gave a disgruntled noise and threw the covers off him. His book closed gently as his firm grip was released when he stood to his feet. His toes wiggled on the ground as he took a moment to realize why he was standing. Oh yes. He was hungry. Clinton made his way out of his room and headed to the stairs. The house was dark and his eyes took the change of environment into a quick adjusting. He stood still as he looked at the door at the bottom of the steps. His parent's room. No light was shining beneath the white door so he came to the quick conclusion they were asleep. He began his careful declining steps in the dark. He entered the kitchen soon enough and made his way over to the cabinets. His lips were parched and chap. He licked them and opened the cabinets slowly. He grabbed a cup from one and a bag of chips in the other. Clinton sat his new meal down on the counter and closed the cabinets gently. A loud engine rev caught his attention and he stopped what he was doing. Clinton almost tripped over his feet as he ran to the door.

...

::Ah don't see anythin',::

::That's because you're talking to me and not focusing on the road, Jazz.:: an annoyed voice responded.

::Nah, mech, dat ain't what ah meant. Ah meant mah scanners ain't pickin' up nothin'.:: Jazz replied cooly. There was a sigh.

::He knows your following him. He's trying to blend into the neighborhood,:: the voice paused and Jazz assumed he was doing his little research. ::This neighborhood has very expensive housing and lots of the residents are known for having a career as police officers-:: 'But only one is from Mission City' Jazz thought. ::Turn around and abandon the investigation. We don't need any human casualties, Galloway having another reason to complain to us, and having to pay the neighborhood's damages through N.E.S.T.S. provided money supply.::

::I agree with Prowl. Barricade isn't worth risking human lives for. Return to base.:: A new voice spoke tiredly. Almost as if Prowl said everything he would but in similar terms. Prowl must have been in one of his 'I'm always right' moods all day. Jazz almost felt sorry for his leader. But he did make him second in command.

::Yes sah. Ah be back in ah jiff.:: The comm cut and Jazz turned around a cul-de-sac. Jazz made a loud rev of his engine and spun around, drifting on the concrete. His tires left a nice sized skid mark as he kicked off back to base.

...

"A Pontiac Solstice hardtop?" His breath hitched.  He watched the headlights spin toward his directions and his eyes squinted and blinked away the light. "What are you doing here?" He whispered in awe as he watched the silver car speed away. His mind ran as he began thinking of so many questions. I never saw one here before. Is someone in our neighborhood rich? Is someone just entering our neighborhood to turn around?  What are they doing here so late? Nevermind that, what perfect timing! I can't believe I'm up to see one. I can't wait to tell James in the morning. I bet he's gonna be so jealous! He's gonna wish he lived in my neighborhood. Clintons head gears were almost at full capacity as he returned back to the kitchen. Clinton was happy. He was excited. He was over the moon! Clinton had a very big obsession with cars ever since he learned about Monster Trucks. He wanted to be a driver for one too. Or a mechanic for the large vechicles. He hadn't decided which. Clinton poured juice into the cup, closed the fridge door and raced upstairs with his meal. He just couldn't help but giggle once he entered his room. A large idiotic grin spread across his face once he closed his door. "James is gonna be so jealous!" he laughed and sat on his bed. Clinton began eating, opening up his book again, never wiping away his smile.