Part Two

The silence had a focused quality to it, and Elena admitted to herself that she'd never before felt so intimidated by...well, anyone, really. But especially not by such kind and honest people. She'd faced down murderers with less trepidation than sitting here in the C.I.B. van, her husband's family pretending not to stare at her.

The Inspector had provided the vehicle, an armored transport, and a C.I.B. driver, but he'd gone himself to deal with Taejo Togokahn's evidence. It was the driver who'd conducted the family safely past the reporters, with a few strong reminders about the privacy laws that prohibited news media from approaching a private residence without permission. Elena had been waiting in the vehicle, out of sight. She avoided cameras wherever possible.

And now the silence had stretched almost fifteen minutes. Spritle and his chimpanzee watched her openly, but for once the boy was waiting for someone else to ask the first question. Trixie's little smile hadn't faded yet, and her eyes were distant, probably wondering how Speed was getting on with his brother. Sparky had been examining the interior of the compartment so long it was obvious he was avoiding eye contact. And Elena couldn't seem to look at her parents-in-law.

She ought to say something, to acknowledge the part she'd played in the family's pain and apologize somehow. The trouble was, everything she could think to say began with I wanted to tell you, which left Alex as the one who'd insisted on the secret. However accurate that might be, Elena had no intention of causing any more trouble between her husband and his family.

"Is it safe to talk here?" Mom Racer finally found words to end the uncomfortable silence.

Elena hadn't even considered that as a possible reason for their reluctance to speak, though now she realized that after the three consecutive lectures on secrecy Alex had given to cut off this sort of conversation in the hospital of course it would be on their minds. "Yes, it is," she assured them. "This vehicle is secure, no one is listening in. We'll make sure the house is a safe place, too."

A collective sigh of relief blew away more of the tension than Elena expected, and almost at once Spritle demanded, "Did you always know he was Rex?"

She winced. "Yes, I always knew." The simple answer was better. "I was working for the C.I.B. before Rex signed with Uniron."

Elena had never forgotten her first meeting with Rex Racer. The young driver had reminded her, with a foreboding pang, of Garrett Michaelson, the man her mother had loved, that last year--handsome and self-confident, addicted to the track and to the cars, and so very, very trapped. She'd wanted to blame Michaelson when Benelli killed her mother, but then he'd tried to turn on Benelli anyway and been murdered himself, which made it hard to resent him properly for making her mother a target.

At the time, she'd rather felt that any driver who worked for Benelli deserved whatever they got. Rex, though...he'd been different. "I've been protecting him a long time," she murmured, lost in memory.

Eleven years ago

Today she was Leena Price, neither elegant nor modest, and her clothes attracted plenty of attention but no one was looking at her face. The road was crowded with spectators, most of them criminals of one stripe or another, craning for a better view and betting on the outcome of the challenge.

She didn't enjoy this sort of role, and the Inspector would never have asked it of her. But Leena fit here in a way that none of the identities the Inspector had provided ever could, and right now Minx needed that invisibility.

Actually, the Inspector was going to be quite upset when she reported in, assuming she chose to include all the details. He was a good man, and Minx knew very well how much she owed him, but there were days when he apparently couldn't decide whether to treat her as his agent or his daughter.

How he'd picked up that notion, Minx had no idea. The concern was kind of nice but the lectures could get awfully tiresome.

The crowd was focused on the bright orange and yellow car of Fury Farnell, an appropriately nicknamed man whose hair was dyed to match his vehicle. Officially, Farnell drove for Uniron, the same company who now sponsored Rex Racer. Unofficially, Farnell had been working for Benelli long enough that he was often rewarded with wins where corporate concerns permitted.

So far, Rex Racer had only followed instructions to prevent undesirable drivers from making any kind of notable finish, but he'd done it with a flair that had unfortunately attracted Fury's attention.

The drivers connected with the criminal underworld challenged each other regularly, because they were drivers; because they were seldom better than criminals themselves, the challenge races were violent and rife with sabotage. Injury was common, death less so but always a possibility.

Minx strolled through the crowd in a leisurely fashion, aiming for the relatively uncrowded area around Rex Racer's car without ever quite looking at it. The trick was not to look like she was in a hurry.

With a seductive sway that would offer adequate explanation to any observer, Minx made the final approach to the bright red car. It wasn't the track car Rex had driven in the races, but a brand-new one, suitable for road driving or rallies, provided by Uniron as an extra benefit to their newest driver.

Behind the wheel, Rex Racer hit the ignition, head tilted slightly as he listened to the sound of the powerful engine. His face had grown harder in the month since she'd last been this close, but it bore no trace of the malice that marked Farnell and others like him.

In general, Minx didn't like drivers. All of them were arrogant, to more and less harmful degrees, and aggressive driving on the track too often spilled over into aggression off the track. And all of them working for Benelli were by definition her enemies, because Benelli was going to trial, whatever it took.

Rex Racer shouldn't have felt much different from all the rest. Certainly she shouldn't trust him, shouldn't let him know where or who she was after the initial contact. He was a desperate man, and it was quite possible he would decide that turning her in as an agent would make his family safer.

And yet there was something about him...she hadn't even paused to question what she needed to do.

The young man didn't see her until she leaned in over his window, and then his eyes narrowed in wary recognition. Minx ignored this, and put all the urgency her expression didn't dare show into her voice instead, soft and sharp. "Farnell bribed your mechanic. You've got a faulty tread on the left front wheel. Can you compensate for it?"

The road ahead was mountainous and full of sharp turns, and not known for its safety. A skid on the wrong curve, especially with an opponent who knew to expect it, could easily send both car and driver over a cliff edge. If Racer couldn't handle it, she needed to figure out some kind of delay fast. There was no way to simply call off the race.

Racer's face hardly changed, but his frown got a little deeper. "I can manage," he said curtly.

"Good." She had to trust he wasn't overestimating his own ability. "Check your Kwiksave again," she added anyway. "It's probably been disabled."

"Why are you telling me?" he demanded, harsh and suspicious still. "I'm not working for you people."

Not yet, Minx thought. That was true enough, Racer had yet to use the number she'd provided him. And honestly, she wasn't supposed to be getting this involved. It was dangerous for him to know she was still around, watching out for him. The Inspector wouldn't be pleased with the risk she was taking.

She couldn't possibly explain something she barely understood herself, not to his satisfaction in a few seconds. Minx offered a sultry smile instead, for the benefit of anyone watching. "I like you, that's all," she purred, and moved away, aiming for the next handsome, well-dressed young man. Leena Price was always welcome.

What made Racer different? Maybe it was only that he was the best hope yet of getting evidence to link Benelli to the Uniron corporation, but she couldn't help remembering the pain in his eyes when she'd mentioned his family at their first meeting. Minx had watched him cut all ties to keep his family safe. Not many drivers would go so far, and she could tell it hurt him, convincing everyone he didn't care about the people he loved most in the world.

He'll make a good agent, if we can just keep him alive long enough. She'd put it that way to the Inspector, who'd laughed at hearing her repeat almost exactly the same words he had once used of the stubborn, revenge-driven girl she'd been three years ago.

Minx needed to keep him alive. It was that simple; why complicate it with explanations? She was going to keep him alive. Whatever it took.

Some enterprising soul had set up a large screen to one side, and the crowd drifted in that direction as Farnell shouted a bit more abuse in Rex's direction. The young driver pulled into position beside him without bothering to respond. This was strictly a challenge; there were no other cars.

The image jittered nauseatingly on the screen as the amateur cameraman adjusted to the motion of the helicopter. One of Farnell's more attractive girlfriends brought down the flag, and both cars roared away.

Minx chose not to join in the general shouting. Most people were supporting Farnell, because it was safer, except for the gamblers who had taken the higher risk and put money on Racer instead. It would have added to her cover to cheer Farnell on, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Drivers were always too confident of their skills. She only hoped Racer had found whatever the greedy mechanic had no doubt done to his Kwiksave.

The red car had taken an early lead, Farnell tucked in just behind. Around the first few gentle curves up the hillside, there was no evidence of trouble. Then Racer took a hairpin turn almost without slowing, and began to skid uncontrolled toward the flimsy guard rail.

Minx felt her heart leap into her throat and choke off her breathing. He'd gone at that turn with no caution at all, had he even been listening to her?

Farnell moved in to make the shove--

And Racer turned into the skid and flung his car into a full spin, slamming into Farnell at such an angle that the orange car rubbed harshly against the cliff face, leaving streaks of paint behind. Racer was off and away before Farnell could correct his momentum.

She took a careful breath, hands trembling, and watched Rex Racer take the next few curves widely enough that the skid never even began. Oh yes, he'd been listening. And he'd made that dangerous play to ensure no one suspected that he already knew about the problem.

He'll make a good agent, she thought again, and couldn't quite keep from smiling.

Present

Too many details about that dangerous time would only make the family fret about her husband's safety, and Elena didn't want that; it was easy to see they were already worried enough. She simplified that entire period in their lives to, "He didn't trust me at first, but I warned him if another driver had something planned."

"So you met him as Rex?" Mom Racer said, eyebrows up in surprise. "If you've always known about the family--We never met back then, did we?"

Elena shook her head. "I always wanted to meet you," she answered honestly. "It was too dangerous. It's a risk even now, but it would have been much worse before."

"Why didn't Rex tell us?" Elena had only spent a week's time with the Racers, but she knew already that Pops didn't often sound so subdued. It was regret in his eyes, not the anger Alex still dreaded facing, and for her husband's sake she was glad of it. "He let me think--if he'd explained, I'd never have said--he has to know that, surely?"

"He knew," Elena affirmed quietly. "It's a conversation you'll need to have with my husband, but I can tell you that he was only ever trying to protect you all, the best way he knew how. Benelli was a very violent man, and very persuasive."

Her father-in-law's face went suddenly hard with memory. "That bomb in the package," he spat. "That's when Rex started acting strangely, I should have known! He told me it was some rival driver, said he'd take care of it..."

"How safe is Rex now?" Mom Racer interrupted, looking anxiously from Pops to Elena. "All the risks he takes on the track are bad enough, but the people shooting at him, the ninjas, how often does this sort of thing happen?"

In point of fact, it happened a good deal more often than Elena liked, and there wasn't much she could say that would be comforting to worried parents. "Alex is very good at what he does," she began, words coming slow. "It isn't a safe job, but it's necessary. He's saved a lot of lives."

"But surely someone else could do it," Mom Racer appealed. "Hasn't Rex done enough already?"

Elena's mouth twisted in complete sympathy. "If he wanted to stop, no one would argue with him," she agreed. "The Inspector's offered him quite a nice retirement package twice that I know of. But this is important to Alex. And honestly, no, there's no one else who could possibly drive the way he does."

The pride and worry intermixed on the faces of her in-laws at this statement warmed Elena, it being precisely the way she felt most of the time. "If it's that important to him, we'll support him however we can," Pops announced, decisive. "Took me a couple tries to get this thing right, but I'm not making the same mistake again."

His wife leaned into him and wrapped an arm around, giving and receiving comfort.

"How come you still call him Alex even though we all know who he is now?" Spritle sidetracked the conversation with a curious look.

Elena offered a wry smile. "It's safer if I don't think of him as Rex. I'm less likely to slip in public," she explained. "Actually, he'll probably insist the rest of you do the same. There are still people who would be very unhappy to learn that Rex survived."

There was a general wince at the reminder. "No problem," Pops said hastily. "We've been calling him Alex for a week already, it's a good name."

"I, ah, wanted to say." Elena's carefully cultivated confidence slipped farther away from her with every word. Apologizing seemed like such a feeble gesture when she thought how she would have felt if someone had conspired to make her believe that her mother had died when it wasn't true. Or Alex, for that matter. "All these years when you didn't know--I'm so sorry."

Her mother-in-law had tears in her eyes, but there was a genuine smile under them. "I'm glad he found you, Elena," she said sincerely. "After he left, I was worried most of all that he was alone. It can't have been an easy life for either of you, but I can still recognize my son, and I know it's because of you. Thank you for protecting him."

Elena's responding nod was jerky, and her own eyes were full. "Always," she murmured, clasping her mother-in-law's hand in silent pledge. "I can't say it's not dangerous, but I'll keep your son safe if I possibly can."

"And yourself, too," Pops Racer put in, smiling at her. "I think I'm going to like having a daughter. We'd like to keep you."

It was a strange feeling. For a week she'd been on the fringes, almost like family but never quite comfortable however she pretended, her husband's identity a barrier between her and the welcoming Racers. Now it was gone, and she really was family.

It was a strange feeling, but she very much wanted the chance to get used to it.

Notes: Sorry it's taken longer than before, and I can't promise the next one will be any faster. Real life unfortunately interferes. Next part's about Sparky, though. Hope you like this--whether you do or not, please review!