*I don't own Transformers or anything affiliated with Transformers. I only own my original characters and plots. All rights go to Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg.*

The morning sun shone brightly through the windows. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Looking around at my surroundings, I noticed that I was in my bedroom. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep downstairs on the couch. I shook the thought from my mind and got up off of my bed. I walked over to my dresser to look for something to wear.

My drawers were getting packed with clothes, and sooner or later I wouldn't have any space for them at all. My closet was an option but it was a wreck as well. I sighed and picked out a pair of shorts, a flowy black shirt and a black and white checkered flannel. I changed and grabbed my black combat boots from my closet.

After putting them on I walked out of my bedroom and made my way downstairs. My mom was sitting on the recliner and Anna was playing with random toys on the floor but I noticed that my dad and Ron weren't here. I sat down on the couch and propped my feet up on the coffee table.

"Are dad and Ron at the base or something?" I asked her.

She nodded. "Yeah. They said something about preparing new recruits or something."

"More new people?"

"It's something like that," she simply replied.

I sighed and stood up. I really felt like shooting something, so I walked over to the door. My mom's voice stopped me.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to shoot. I'm having withdrawals," I chuckled.

She shook her head at me. "Be careful."

"Always am, Sarah. Bye now," I told her and ran out the door.

It was warm outside, so that was a good thing considering I was wearing shorts. I walked past my mom's Tahoe and over to the shed. I unlocked the doors and stepped in to retrieve my gear.

My bag of equipment was placed by the handgun case. After picking it up, I opened the case and took out a Glock 19 and a Kimber ICQB. I loaded up some ammo and placed the guns into my bag before going to walk back out of the shed.

What stopped me though was the sight of the machine gun case. I walked over to it and stared at the many guns inside. My dad had told me not to use these because he thought they would be too dangerous and powerful for me, but I had always wanted to shoot one and right now I was getting a little too eager. And plus if I was going to be in the army, I needed to learn to shoot one, right?

Without thinking I slid the gun case open. I took out one of the guns, an M27 IAR, and loaded it up.

What my dad didn't know wouldn't kill him, I thought.

I quickly walked out of the gun shed and trudged up the hill to the range. I laid my equipment down by my post and removed everything. After putting on my goggles and putting in my ear pieces, I picked up the M27. A mischievous smile spread across my face as I loaded the gun up with ammo. After I finished loading I was ready to shoot. I aimed the machine gun at the target and set it on automatic. It was ridiculously loud, even through my ear pieces and that was something I didn't like. Since I had never shot one of these before the bullets sprayed everywhere and although I was having a lot fun with it, I switched it off and placed it back in the bag before I could do any damage.

The next gun I picked up was the Glock. I loaded it and aimed it at the target, which was splattered with bullet holes from the M27. I concentrated solely on the target and shot eleven rounds. Each of them hit the target directly in the middle and I silently praised myself. I unloaded the gun and placed it on safety before putting it in the bag.

I looked back up at the target and noticed it was starting to chip away from the excessive abuse. I sighed and stalked over to the target post and replaced it with a new one. After tossing the old one underneath the stand, I walked back over to my shooting post.

The last gun I used was the Kimber. I picked it up from the bag and loaded it with its required ammo. After taking off the safety I aimed it and concentrated solely on the new target. As I went to pull the trigger a loud voice yelled my name.

Startled by the sudden sound, I turned and involuntarily pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun shot rang through the air. I heard a loud clank as it hit the familiar black truck that was now sitting in my driveway. Shit. My eyes widened and I laid the gun down and threw my gear off before running down the hill to my father who looked rather startled by the action.

"You know good and well never to scare me. Especially if I have a damn gun in my hand. I could've blown your head off," I told him.

He immediately relaxed and even chuckled. "Not with that aim you couldn't have."

"Shut up. Where's Ron?" I asked.

"Over there somewhere," he explained.

He pointed towards the truck and Ron stepped out of the driver's side. He walked over to us with a rather annoyed expression on his face. My eyes widened again as I realized I had just shot the truck. I ran over to the side of the truck I had shot and examined it. Oddly enough, there wasn't even a scratch. .the paint wasn't even chipped and I found that to be bizarre.

"What's wrong, Lea?" my dad asked, obviously noticing the confused look on my face.

I looked at him. Ron was beside him with a now smug look on his face and I didn't understand why.

"I shot the truck. I swear it but there's nothing there. The paint isn't even chipped in the slightest. It's weird," I explained to him.

He snickered. "Don't worry about ol' Ironhide."

I gave him a look and Ron shifted beside him. "Ironhide? You're naming your vehicles now?"

He seemed to notice what he had said because his eyes widened ever so slightly and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Yeah. I guess I am," he said.

Ron grunted and I laughed.

"But why the name Ironhide? That's so weird," I countered.

Ron shot me a look. "What's wrong with the name Ironhide?" he retorted.

My dad snickered and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Nothing. It's just when people get weird and actually name their vehicles they usually choose a legit name like Sally or Pete. Ironhide is different. Don't get so defensive," I chuckled.

He grunted again and I leaned against the truck.

"If you're done you need to go get your equipment and put it up," my dad told me.

I raised an eyebrow before giving him a snide smile and climbing into the bed of the truck. I sat down and leaned against the side of the truck.

"How about you do it since you rudely interrupted my session?"

My dad sighed and began walking up the hill to get my stuff. I laid down and stared up at the sky for a few moments before realization hit me. I jumped up and quickly climbed out of the bed of the truck, nearly falling in the process. Ron gave me a weird look but I ignored him and turned towards the hill, but it was too late as my dad was already walking towards us. My bag was in his hand and he stared at me with an agitated look on his face. I shifted backwards as he came closer.

"I can explain?" I asked more than I stated.

He was getting angrier and getting closer which caused me to shift myself behind Ron.

"Oh really? I thought I told you not to use the machine guns," he scolded.

"It looked fun," I responded.

He rolled his eyes at me and Ron chuckled.

"Was it? How'd it go?" he asked.

"Not well."

"Exactly. They're too hard for you to control and far too dangerous," he explained.

I rolled my eyes and stepped out from behind Ron.

"I mean, I've learned to shoot every single type of gun except for a freaking machine gun, give or take a few launchers and flamethrowers. I have to learn somehow and you or Epps wouldn't bother teaching me. It's pretty clear that my only other option is myself," I countered.

He sighed. "Just leave them alone. I'm only doing it to keep you from getting hurt."

"Whatever," I replied and sat back against the truck's wheel. My dad walked off to the shed and I groaned.

"You should really listen to him. He is your father after all," Ron spoke.

I looked at him. "Yeah but sometimes he can drive me crazy with all his over protectiveness," I explained.

Ron chuckled. "Typical teenage female," he mumbled.

"I'll have you know that I am nothing like most girls my age," I remarked.

He snickered. "Oh, trust me. I am very well aware," he responded amused.

I just smiled and turned my attention to my dad who was now walking back over to us.

"Are you over your little bitch fit now?" I asked.

He shot me a glare. "Don't push it, Azalea," he snapped.

"There's no need for the hostility," I said. He only rolled his eyes. "So, mom said something about you two preparing new recruits or something. How did that go?" I asked.

"Exhausting actually. They're quite the handful to deal with," my dad explained.

"How many are there?" I asked.

"Seven," Ron told me.

I raised an eyebrow. "They can't possibly be that hard to deal with."

"I'd say so considering that two of them nearly blew up the base today," my dad said.

"Are they young?"

"Kind of. And they're twins which makes it even better," he sarcastically stated.

"I'm pretty sure you big, tough manly men can handle two young twin boys. Just don't let them near the weapons or anything explosive. Make them wash dishes or clean toilets. I don't know but I just don't want to have to hurt them because they've ended up killing you," I chuckled.

"Oh. I highly doubt that you'd be able to take them on," my dad told me.

I stood up and got in his face. "Well, if I can take you on I'm almost certain that taking them on would be a piece of cake. You forget I'm a trained military fighter and martial artist," I smirked.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "They're roughly a hundred times stronger than you. Fighting them would be almost like fighting Ron," he explained.

"Hardly," Ron countered.

"I'll fight him too. I don't care. I like a challenge," I laughed.

Ron grunted. "You wouldn't last three seconds against me, kid."

"Let's find out then," I baited and stood in front of him.

He gave me a look. "I don't want to hurt you."

"She's not going to give up until you fight her. Trust me. She's done this with all of the soldiers," my dad chuckled.

I smirked and looked at Ron. He sighed and stepped closer to me. My dad shifted backwards. Ron crossed his arms and smirked.

"Go ahead, kid. Hit me with your best shot," he baited.

I smirked and took a fighting stance. Ron didn't shift from his position so I just carried on. I kicked my leg up at him but his reflexes were much faster than my own. He grabbed my ankle tightly before it could make contact with his torso. I blinked and he smirked. He let go of my leg and stared at me. I could hear my dad laughing. I glared at Ron and took a step back. He smirked again and ran at me.

I barely dodged him and ducked down, kicking my right leg out in an attempt to trip him. He reacted quickly and jumped over my leg, landing in a duck and roll, the concrete of the driveway not harming him in any way. He stood back up and I did the same. I carefully approached him and threw three punches, each of which he easily dodged, grabbing my left fist as I went to punch him again.

"Give up yet?" he asked.

"Not a chance," I said and quickly spun around.

My boot connected with his side, and Ron, surprised by the action, stumbled. It gave me enough time to grab him by the forearm and flip him over. I smirked as I looked down at him.

"And you said I wouldn't last three seconds," I chuckled.

He rolled his eyes at me and I looked away from him and to my dad. He had a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"Wow," was all that came out of my dad's mouth. I laughed.

"So, how about them twins?" I joked.

He shook his head and then suddenly I was being tackled. I squealed as I hit the ground. There was a weight on top of me so I focused my vision and looked up to see Ron staring down at me with a smirk on his face.

"One rule of combat. .never turn your back on an enemy," he explained and got up.

He held a hand out to me and I took it. He pulled me up and I straightened out my clothes before leaning against the side of the truck. Strangely enough that little brawl had left me ridiculously tired. I sat down against the tire and looked up at my dad and Ron.

"I'm actually really surprised, Azalea," my dad said.

"Why?"

"Because, you actually got him to the ground. During training the guys at the base can barely get in a punch before they're on the ground," my dad chuckled.

"Technically, I didn't beat him. He freaking tackled me but it's all good. And I'm sure he's a lot rougher with the guys at work than he is with me, a little seventeen year old girl. Common sense, William," I chuckled.

"You're right about the last part. But in my opinion you're also an incredible fighter. I'm surprised. Good job," Ron told me.

I smiled at him. "Well, thank you," I told him. He gave me a nod and I turned to my dad. "If you'd like to keep your troops, I suggest you inform them not to anger that one over there," I told him and pointed to Ron.

He chuckled. "Oh. Believe me. .they know better than that."

I could tell there was meaning behind his words but I just ignored it and leaned my head against the truck.

*Please vote and comment. It'd mean so much to me. I wanna know what you guys think.*