Chapter 10. Racer X Steps In

About the same time that Speed was waking up at the Wiley mansion, a nondescript battered green car was just pulling up into the garage area of the race course that was the site of the Trans-Country Race. The front passenger door swung open, and out scrambled Spritle Racer, tugging his three bags of promised candy with him. The envelope containing Alpha Team's ransom demand jutted out the front of the child's overalls. "Remember, kiddo. Get that note to your father, if you value your brother Speed's life!" Mr. Fixer called out after him. "And remember, I'll be watchin' you!"

Spritle didn't pay any attention to him. Determined, he started off away from the car, struggling with his three bags of loot he'd conned out of Fixer. He didn't like the idea of being used as a messenger boy between the kidnappers and Pops, one bit. On the other hand, though, he'd do anything to have Speed back, safe and unharmed. Accordingly, the little fellow was determined to carry out his big brother's instructions. I know I gotta give that note to Pops. But I won't let Speed down! I won't, I won't! Spritle thought nervously to himself. He's counting on me to find the Masked Racer, and tell 'em what's really going on. And then maybe—maybe he and Pops can go rescue Speed, and Speed can still be in the race!

There was a slight hitch to Spritle's plan. All that candy he was lugging, was slowing him down! "Unnngghhhh!!!" Spritle groaned, trying to carry three bags at once. "Not...a...good...idea!!! I'd better stash this candy somewhere—but where?"

He paused, and looked around him. The garage area was a pretty busy place, with all the pit crews readying the cars for the race. Spritle shrugged, and bravely moved on with his precious loot. He passed by the drivers' lounge; already drivers were gathering, and most were in their racing attire. A few of them—including Alpha Team's braggart of a lead driver, Zoomer Slick–were conversing cordially. Others were sitting around, reading magazines and such...No one even noticed the pint-sized candy fiend slip by, carrying three huge brown paper bags in his arms, barely able to see over them. He wobbled along awkwardly, hoping to find a suitable place to stash his candy...

Just as Spritle wobbled his way directly into the work area where the various vehicles were being prepped and inspected, the youngster heard a very ominous "riiipppp" coming from one of the bags. One of the paper bags was beginning to split at the very bottom. Still, Spritle bravely plodded on, every so often looking back behind him to see where that Fixer fellow was. It was as he turned a corner, not looking ahead of him, that Spritle suddenly crashed into a tall, familiar masked figure in a white racing suit with a big red "M' on the front: the legendary Racer X.

The force of impact with the man caused the ripped bag in Spritle's arms to finally break open. The contents spilled to the ground in a steady stream. "Oh, no! My candy!" Spritle cried out, alarmed. Frantically he tried to stop up the break, but it only caused him to lose control of the other two bags. "Come back, candy--!!!"

The Masked Racer chuckled heartily, and smiled at Spritle. "All right, Spritle. What do we have here---did you make Speed raid the local candy shop again?" Racer X joked kindly, seeing the boy's distress. "That's an awfully big load, you're carrying."

Spritle blushed. "Nooo..."

Still chuckling, Racer X stooped to help the little guy recapture his runaway candy. "Hmmm! Root beer barrels—my favorite," he commented, spying a bag of the hard candies lying among the trail of sweets.

Spritle was caught by surprise. He didn't know, the Masked Racer liked root beer barrels! The only person he knew of who could stomach the things was Pops. "Yeah. Pops likes 'em, too," the lad said enthusiastically. "A lot!"

Suddenly, he looked up, and gasped loudly. Now Spritle realized, who he'd been talking to---and it seemed like a load just lifted off his young shoulders. "Racer X!!! Racer X, it's really you!" Spritle cried out, in sheer delight. He was so relieved to see a familiar face, he grabbed onto the man's legs and hugged him for dear life. "Boy, am I ever glad to see you! Please, Racer X, you gotta help us. Speed's in really big trouble...!"

Instinctively, Racer X sensed the boy's fear. "Whoa, whoa! Slow down, Spritle! What's the matter?" he asked, seeing the boy's distress. "What's wrong? And what are you doing here all by yourself?"

"It's Speed. Speed's in big trouble!" Spritle comically looked around and behind him. He saw that Wiley's buffoonish right-hand man, Fixer, was still lurking about the garage, and the thought frightened him even more. He motioned for Racer X to bend down, then whispered nervously in his ear, "Uh—can we go somewhere private, and talk? It's real important, and I'm being followed..." Spritle pointed out Fixer in the distance. He was now talking to other members of Alpha Team, minus Zoomer Slick. "Thar's Mr. Fixer, from the Alpha Team. He brought me here," Spritle whispered.

Racer X nodded silently. He'd seen Fixer once before—with team owner (and race committee member) Jack Wiley. He'd also raced many a time against the Alpha Team, and knew all their dirty tricks. He now watched the gathering intently, noting how often a nervous Fixer would look towards the Shooting Star then back to the other Alpha Team members. Eventually, Fixer moved off in another direction. "The Alpha Team, huh? I know all about that crew," X said, not truly understanding why Spritle was acting so strangely.

He began to help Spritle pick up the rest of the candy, putting it into the remaining good bags. He then carried them for Spritle. "Come on. I know just the place, where we can talk. Without being spied upon," Racer X said, smiling at Spritle.

Spritle stood up. "OK!"

The taller man eyed Spritle's loot with wry amusement. "And perhaps, we can also find a spot for your candy. Where'd you get all this, anyways?"

Spritle was feeling much better now. For some odd reason, he felt safe being around Racer X, and he quickly returned to his cheerful ways. " From the candy shop up the street. The kidnappers were bribing me, into being real good...We just bought 'em, so don't worry, the candy's not poisoned." Spritle held out the bag of root beer barrels that had been dropped earlier. "You can have a bag of these, if you want."

Racer X laughed, and took the bag. "Why, thank you, Spritle. I think I will."

Spritle followed his brother's idol through the crowded garage area. Already the Masked Racer's car, the Shooting Star, was being prepped for racing. Next to the black and yellow race car was Speed's Mach 5, still hidden from public view by that oversized white tarp.

Racer X led his little visitor to a small back room and opened the door. He ushered Spritle inside, and while Spritle proceeded to flop down into a small armchair the racer-turned-Interpol agent set the bags of candy on the floor, next to a small desk. Then he quietly closed the door. "All right. I think it's safe to talk here. I doubt anyone'll be able to overhear our conversation," Racer X said softly.

He leaned his tall, muscular frame against the edge of the desk, and spoke to a worried Spritle in a kindly, soothing tone of voice. "Now, Spritle. Start from the beginning, and tell me what's going on. I want to know everything, that's happened so far," X gently urged the boy. "What did you mean when you said, Speed was in big trouble?"

A wide-eyed Spritle nodded. "Just that. I—well, let me start from the top." Quickly, Spritle told Racer X about Pops being visited at his office by Alpha Team's Mr. Fixer and another representative from a rival racing team. Both men were prepared to offer the Racer family patriarch, big bucks if Speed would drive for either team. "...And well, I guess Pops had had enough of both of 'em 'cause he turned both those guys down flat."

Even as the little boy described Pops' reaction, a small wisp of a smile curved at the corners of the Masked Racer's mouth. Despite the strained relationship between him and his father, Rex Racer couldn't help but recall with great fondness, how many times Pops could send people packing with just one loud explosive outburst. Pops hadn't changed at all in that respect, he supposed. "I see. Then what, Spritle?"

Spritle relaxed. "Well, Mr. Fixer's boss sure wasn't very happy about that. He also wanted to get rid of you, too, so you couldn't be in the big race. That's when his men grabbed Speed, thinking it was you," he replied.

That set Racer X to thinking. It would explain the commotion at his house that morning, all right. Already, his lawman's instincts were coming into play. "So that's why, one of my masks was missing this morning!" he mused quietly. "Speed must've tried one on, didn't he?"

Spritle nodded. "Y-Yeah. That's what Speed said..." Speed and Rex's younger brother began to tremble slightly. "Now they're gonna make Pops pay for turning 'em down, by holding Speed for ransom!"

He remembered the note stuck in his overalls, and hastily pulled the envelope out. He handed it shakily to Racer X. "Here. I know this is addressed to Pops, but I thought you oughta see it, too." Spritle began to cry then. He was scared—scared of what might happen to his beloved older brother. "Th-they sa-said if I di-didn't do what th-they t-told me to, I might never see Speed again!!! I don't want them to hurt my big brother---!!!"

A very concerned Racer X hurried to his little brother's side and quickly put a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Hush, Spritle! It'll be all right, if I have anything to say about this," he whispered, hugging the frightened youngster. "No one is going to hurt Speed. Not on my watch!" He paused. "Now, let's see that note."

Without a word, the man carefully opened the letter. He removed its contents, and began to scrutinize the piece of paper. A few minutes later he frowned, and sighed heavily. "I don't like this. This is definitely serious," X muttered, very displeased.

He reread the note a second time. While he was occupied with his analysis of the ransom note, he did not see Spritle get up from his chair and move about. A few minutes later, the sound of rustling paper bags behind him caused the Masked Racer to look up and spin around—then chuckle, as he caught sight of Spritle sitting on the floor, rummaging through the bags for the Hershey bars! "What??" Spritle exclaimed sheepishly, unwrapped candy bar in hand, "I'm upset! I thought, a candy bar would cheer me up--"

A bemused grin broke across Racer X's face. "You know something, Spritle? You're so much like your mother," he said, thinking back to the time when he himself had been at home. "Whenever she got upset, she'd often have a piece or two of chocolate too."

Spritle suddenly looked at him, startled. "Hey! How'd you know, Mom likes chocolate?" he demanded suspiciously. "Have you been spying on us?? Or has Speed been telling you things?"

For a moment, Racer X didn't respond. He drew a deep breath, then softly, with a tinge of regret in his voice answered, "There's not that much of a trick to knowing that. Don't most women like chocolate when they're upset?" The man helped Spritle to his feet. "Now, come on. Right now we have a more important problem to deal with--"

Spritle's chubby little face lit up. Now, they were getting somewhere. "Yeah! Like, rescuing Speed!"

For some time, Racer X continued to listen as Spritle anxiously went into greater detail about the boys' kidnapping. From time to time the eldest Racer nodded, mentally noting everything his little brother was saying. "There's one thing I still have to ask you, Spritle," Racer X said, when Spritle had finished, "how is it that you know so much about Speed's predicament?"

Spritle giggled. "Aw, that's easy. Me, Trixie, and Chim Chim went to your house early this morning, thinking you might've seen Speed before you headed to the track," the little boy replied, a little less anxious now. "When we got there, we saw three guys in a white convertible leaving with who we thought was you but it wasn't you, it was really Speed looking like you..." The comic rapid-fire chatter of his last sentence forced Spritle to stop, and take a very big breath. "...Anyways, to make a long story short. Chim Chim and I got into their trunk, and rode to this huge mansion in the woods. We snuck up to a window, and saw those jerks pull your mask off, and...Well, they got Speed, instead of you! I told Chim Chim we had to find Trixie to show her the way, but the big guy Fixer, he caught us. Then Chim Chim bit him on the arm...He got away, but Fixer had too good a grip on me and I couldn't get away..." Spritle winced at the memory.

While the lad explained his story, Racer X thought back to the events of the past twelve hours. The disastrous 2 AM race in the rain...X bringing an unconscious Speed back to his place for the night...The missing mask, and a missing Speed come morning light, and evidence of a break-in near the front door, etc. Speed's worst mistake yet! His curiosity really got the best of him this time, was Rex Racer's worried thought. Well, if that boy isn't careful, curiosity WILL kill the Racer! And Pops won't be very pleased when he sees this. (Meaning, the ransom note.)

He quickly knelt beside Spritle, and gently squeezed the youngster's shoulder. "Spritle, listen. I'm going to do all I can, to help Speed," Racer X began, his voice quiet and even in tone. "But your father HAS to know about the ransom demand, I'm afraid."

A very nervous Spritle nodded. "He's not gonna like it--"

"I know, but he has every right to know what happened to your brother."

"But what about the Trans-Country Race?" Spritle insisted. "It starts in less than two hours, and both you and Speed are supposed to be in it--!"

"Don't worry about the race, I can always catch up. Although I wouldn't count on Speed making it there, even if we do get to him in time," Racer X replied, gently but firmly. "We don't know the scope of his situation right now, or the condition he'll be in when we find him. He may be unable to drive. Although Pops will be pleased to hear, the Mach 5 is safe and sound—it's right there next to the Shooting Star, under that big white tarp we passed by earlier."

At that, Spritle comically grimaced and wiped his brow with the back of one chubby little hand. "Whew! Yeah, that is good news! At least Pops can't blame Speed for messin' up the paint job this time..."

"Now I think, it's time to call your parents. I'll bet they're really worried," Racer X said, reaching for the phone on the desk and lifting the receiver up. He dialed "0", then waited a few minutes before speaking.. "Operator? The number for the Racer house, please..."

Over at the Racer home, Pops had just finished speaking with Inspector Detector about his missing sons. The air hung heavy with anxiety, as the long wait continued. "Well?" Mrs. Racer asked, as her husband got off the phone.

Pops dejectedly shook his head. The arduous wait had by this time taken a toll on the former pro wrestler, and he looked completely drained. "He said, he'll put his men on the case immediately."

Despite her outwardly calm exterior, deep down Mrs. Racer was worried about her boys. She could only hope that wherever Speed and Spritle were, they were all right. "If only Speed would call us. Or something!" She daubed at her moist eyes with a handkerchief.

Suddenly, the phone in the hallway rang. "Hey, I'll get that!" Sparky called out. He was the closest to the phone, and he quickly answered it. "Hello, Racer residence..."

Suddenly, Sparky's face lit up in a broad grin. "Racer X! Boy, do you ever have good timing...Uh, huh. Uh, huh...Whaaat!!! You've got Spritle---???!"

He nearly dropped the phone, shocked. Sparky looked like he'd just been run over with the Mach 5. "No way!!! Hold on, I'll get Pops.---POPS!!!!" the young mechanic yelled out. "Better get over here. Racer X is on the phone, and he's got Spritle with 'em! He's calling from the racetrack garage!"

The Racer living room erupted into a mass of shocked disbelief and excitement. Both Trixie and Mrs. Racer closed their eyes momentarily, breathing huge sighs of relief that one of the boys had been found. Chim Chim was literally jumping head over heels, overjoyed that his young master was ok. But Pops---well, he was another story. "Whaaat!!!??? Spritle's where????" he bellowed, unable to believe his ears. "At the track??? Give me that!!!"

He snatched the phone from a quaking Sparky's hand. The look on Pops' face said it all—thank goodness, at least one of his rascally sons was safe! "Racer X? Pops Racer here. Is Spritle really there with you?"

At the track garage, Racer X chuckled. Spritle was relaxing in the same armchair he'd been sitting in for the past half-hour or so, enjoying a huge bag of M&M's. "He certainly is, Pops. I found the little fellow wandering the garage area by himself---or rather he found me, working on my car," the racer-turned-secret agent replied, watching his young visitor with a bemused look on his face.

Pops was overjoyed. "Well, don't you let that boy run off, you hear me? I'm coming down right now to get him!" he practically shouted into the receiver.

A quiet chuckle went up on the other end of the line. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that, sir. Spritle's too scared of the possibility of bumping into the person who was following him, to leave this room."

Pops was mystified. "Huh?? Who was following Spritle?? And what about...Where's Speed?" he demanded loudly.

"I'm afraid, I can't tell you much more than that over the phone. But I'm glad you're coming to pick up Spritle." There was a distinct edge to Racer X's voice now, as he steeled himself to relay the next part of his call. "Pops, I'm sorry I have to be the one to break this, but you and I have to talk. And yes, this unfortunately does concern Speed and his whereabouts..."

Can somebody say, ultimate nightmare???