Transformers FanFiction

Chapter 6

I ran inside, shutting the door behind me.

There was banging.  "Sam!"  I yelled.

"Kitchen," he replied.  I ran into the kitchen.  Sam and Mikaela had the glasses.

"Your mom's so nice," Mikaela said.

"I want you to distract my parents while I slip out and give these glasses to them," Sam said.

"I'm afraid they have left.  Sector Seven is here," I said.  "Police."

"What?"  Sam asked.

"What's Sector Seven?"  Mikaela asked.

"We're about to find out," I said.

The doorbell rang frantically.

My dad got up and answered the door.

"Ronald Wickity?"  Seymour Simmons asked.

"It's Witwicky.  Who are you?"  Dad asked.

"We're the government.  Sector Seven," Simmons said, holding out a badge.

"Never heard of it," Dad said.

"Never will.  Your children are the great-grandkids of Captain Archibald Wickity, are they not?"  He asked.

"It's Witwicky," Dad said sternly.

"May I enter the premises, sir?"  Simmons asked.  He slid passed my dad and into the house.

I turned to Sam.  "Put those glasses away," I said.  "In your pocket, somewhere."

From the kitchen I heard my mom talk.  "Ron, there's guys all over the front yard."

Three suited men followed Agent Simmons into our house.

"What the hell is going on here?"  Dad asked.

"Your son filed a stolen car report last night," Simmons said.  "We think it's involved in a national security matter."

Mom yelled from the backyard.  "They're ripping up my rose bushes!"

I shook my head.  "Put the glasses away," I said.

Sam nodded and put them in his back pocket.

I went into the main hallway into the living room.

"National security?"  Dad asked.

I stood and crossed my arms.

"That's right, national security," Simmons said.

"My God, Ron, they're everywhere," mom complained.  "There's guys in suits all around the house!  Look at this!"

"Could you stay off the grass?"  Dad yelled out the front door.

Simmons yelled out the door.  "Give me a sample and some isotope readings."

"What do you need them for?"  I asked.

"Someone's awfully nosy," Simmons said.

I shrugged.  "I'm a pretty smart girl," I said.

"Not smart enough to stay out of government business," he said.

My mom started worrying about bushes and everything that involves plants.  She grabbed a baseball bat.

"Drop the bat ma'am," Simmons said, taking a hold of it.  "I'm carrying a loaded weapon."

"But you'd better get those guys out of my garden," mom said.  "Or I am going to beat the crap out of them."

"Are you experiencing any flu-like symptoms?  Aching joints?  Fever?"  Simmons asked, shining a light in her eyes.