Chapter 14. Hot Wheels, Hot Tempers

The rescue posse pushed on through town, then onto the open highway. Time was running short—it was well after noon. Engines roared, tires squealed as the drivers endeavored to pick up Speed's trail.

About fifteen minutes into the arduous ride, the Mach 5's radio crackled to life. Trixie was checking in. "Calling the Mach 5! Sparky? Pops? This is Trixie. Do you read, come in."

Sparky quickly grabbed the mike. "Sparky here. What's up, Trixie?"

"Have you located Speed yet?"

"Uh-uh, not yet. We're still following Racer X and Spritle," Sparky replied. Pops was holding the Mach 5 to a reasonable 55 mph. "We'll let you know when we get there, over."

"Roger that, Sparky. Trixie, out."

Up ahead, Spritle was enjoying his very first ride in the Shooting Star, the horrible events of the past five or six hours temporarily pushed aside from his mind. At the same time, he kept a sharp eye out for the turnoff that would lead everyone to the Wiley estate—and, his brother. "Gee, Racer X. Your car runs as smooth as the Mach 5!" the youngster gushed, enjoying himself.

His older companion chuckled, smiling. "Why, thank you, Spritle. I designed this car myself," Racer X replied. He was pleased to see his little brother's mind on something other than Speed and all that candy, for the moment. "She was built for racing, just like your brother's car."

"Ahhh!!" was Spritle's awed response.

Suddenly, the little boy leaned to his left and craned his neck forward. "I see it!" Spritle cried out excitedly. "Racer X, I see the turnoff! There's the sign—Stanton Road. Just like I told ya!" He pointed eagerly to the street sign up ahead.

Racer X was very pleased. "Good work, Spritle! I'll notify the others," he said, clapping a hand on the little boy's shoulder. Then in a silent aside to his kidnapped brother, the man who was really Rex Racer thought, Hang in there, Speed. It won't be long now!

He reached for the CB mike. "Pops, Inspector? Racer X here. I'm turning left at Stanton Road. Repeat---left on Stanton Road. Follow me!"

Pops responded quickly. "X? I'm right behind ya! Just let me at those madmen who have Speed, I'll show 'em a wrestling move or two. On their heads!" he huffed, his face twisting into a furious scowl.

Then he growled, when he heard over the CB Spritle in the background, laughing. "What's so funny?" Pops suddenly demanded, the scowl on his face deepening. "Spritle!! I can hear you! I want to know, what's so darn funny--!"

Just then, Racer X's voice crackled over the radio. "I believe it's the way you put that, Pops. Spritle can't stop laughing now."

Poor Pops! Even when he was participating in something as dangerous as helping the police in their work, he couldn't help but blow up at someone. "Why, you...SPRITLE!!!!!" he yelled, in comic exasperation. "You just wait, until this is over...!!!" Huffing, puffing, and very red-faced, the head of the Go Team paused, momentarily collected himself, then added in a feisty tone of voice, "And, X? You tell that rascally son of mine, I'll deal with him later!"

Racer X's reply? He merely gunned his engine, took the turn, and disappeared in a cloud of dust , leaving the Mach 5 in its wake, trying to catch up to the Shooting Star. . The other vehicles followed the two race cars down a twisting, winding dirt road, which led deep into the woods. The police vehicles, however, lagged considerably behind both the Mach 5 and Racer X's vehicle.

Suddenly, Spritle got all excited. He pointed to an odd-shaped building off in the distance. "There! That's the place!" the youngster cried out. "That's where they've got Speed!"

Racer X looked up, and glanced in the direction that Spritle was pointing. He caught a glimpse of the A-shaped rooftop, and smiled tautly. The Alpha Team was about to run its last race, if he had anything to say about it. It'll be over soon enough, Speed. We're almost there, Speed's elder brother thought to himself. Just hang tight!

He waved for Pops to pull over, off road. Pops nodded, and expertly pulled the Mach 5 off to the right. "What's the game plan, Racer X?" Sparky called out, as the Shooting Star slowed to a stop behind the glistening white vehicle.

Racer X hopped out of his vehicle and walked over to the Mach 5. "There's the Wiley mansion, straight ahead," he told Pops and Sparky as they got out of the car. He pointed to the building in the distance. "Our best bet would to be to get as close to the grounds as possible, hide the cars nearby, then proceed on foot.--We can't take many chances, since we don't know who's in there with Speed, or how many of them there are."

Spritle made a face. "I can tell you that," he volunteered. "Mr. Wiley was calling in three of his backup drivers, to help this other fellow watch Speed. He's probably already at the racetrack now, with Mr. Fixer and three other guys."

Pops comically rolled up his sleeves. He was ready for a fight. "Four of 'em, eh? Those are my kind of odds!" he exclaimed. "Let's go get 'em!"

Racer X turned to Spritle. "Spritle, you've been inside Mr. Wiley's house. Where are they holding your brother?" the Masked Racer gently inquired, laying a hand on Spritle's shoulder.

Spritle thought a moment. "Well, if they haven't moved Speed back to the basement...he should still be in the parlor. It's on the first floor," he replied, matter-of-factly.

Pops growled menacingly. "Then let's go get Speed!"

Sparky, however, looked doubtful. "Ahhh...shouldn't we wait for the Inspector to get here?" the lanky mechanic cut in, looking around uneasily. "I thought, he was following us---"

Spritle gave his brother's friend an annoyed look. He pouted, then put both of his chubby little hands on his hips, looking more than a little impatient. "He was! But the way Pops and Racer X were driving, I bet the Inspector was eating their dust! Now, let's go rescue my big brother already!!!"

Pops, Racer X, and Sparky all chuckled quietly. There was definitely no arguing with this little Racer---sometimes Spritle could be just as protective of Speed as much as (if not more than!) Pops could! Although on the other hand...Somebody had to rein in Speed's little brother's unbridled enthusiasm for detective work. "Now, Spritle. I know you're eager to save your brother from the bad guys. But Sparky's right, we have to do things according to the law," Racer X said kindly, lightly patting the small boy on the shoulder. "We can't just enter someone's house to search it, unless we have a search warrant." He smiled warmly at Spritle.

Still, Spritle pouted even more. He hated any kind of delay—especially when he knew, Speed was running out of time. "OK, we'll wait for the Inspector before we go in the house.---But can we still look in the window, to make sure Speed's okay??" he pleaded plaintively.

Pops nervously glanced over at X. "Well?" he asked. "How about it, Racer X? Can we get away with that?"

Racer X nodded. "It wouldn't hurt."

From that point on, the rescue took on the appearance of a huge undercover operation. One of the main problems facing the Masked Racer and his companions was how to get the two race cars onto the grounds of the Wiley estate, without being spotted. But he and Pops managed it so effectively, that none of mansion's security systems even picked them up...After the cars were hidden out of sight Spritle led his father, Sparky, and Racer X over to the house, straight to a window that looked in on the first-floor parlor. Kneeling under the window, the foursome peered in...

What they saw, was more than Pops Racer could take. He caught sight of Speed lying on the sofa, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and looking absolutely miserable. One of the Alpha Team backup drivers stood over him, grinning maliciously. He appeared to be taunting the squirming, helpless teenager. Naturally, Speed's dad was infuriated. "Why, those dirty rotten...Scoundrels!!!" he suddenly exploded, clenching his fists tightly and shaking with anger. "Look what they've done to my boy!!! Why, I ought to just...N-unnggghhh!!! Oh,I don't know what I'll do!!!""

An alarmed Sparky suddenly hissed at him. "Pops!!!! Calm down, will ya?? C'mon, you're gonna give us all away!!!" he exclaimed anxiously.

"But that's my boy, they've got in there!!!" Pops protested.

"Do you really want them to harm Speed? Who knows what they'll do, if they know we're here?" was Sparky's comebacker, and a drained Pops had to concede the point.

He still couldn't tear himself away from the scene in Wiley's parlor, however. A very worried Pops watched as the thugs inside continued to torment poor Speed; the man felt completely helpless at that moment, knowing that he couldn't help his son—not just yet, anyways. It was a parent's worst nightmare come true, and the head of the Go Team hated the idea of not being able to take immediate action. Speed needed his help...now.

Suddenly, he brought a huge fist crashing down on the wooden windowsill—hard. "OWWWWWWW!!!!" the burly race car designer screamed in pain, and comically clutched at his hand. "That hurt!"

Nice going, Pops. That sure isn't going to help your son any.

Inside the mansion, the sudden yelling outside caught the attention of the men guarding Speed. "Hey!! Did you guys hear that?" one of the Alpha drivers said, glancing around suspiciously. "Somebody's out there!"

"Yeah! No doubt, someone's come around snooping for the kid," another one chimed in. "And you wanna know something? There's only one person I know of, that can holler like that. Pops Racer!" He gave poor Speed a dirty look.

Moody scowled. This was something, Mr. Wiley hadn't planned for. "Well, let's not just stand around here, let's do something about 'em!" he snapped. "You two, take care of Racer's old man. Jock and I'll take the kid downstairs and stash 'em. We'll put 'em under the stairs, that way nobody 'll see him with all those old oil drums and such in front."

The Alpha drivers nodded. "Right!"

Moody went over to the sofa and roughly picked Speed up, flinging the captive youth over his right shoulder in a very undignified manner. The other driver followed behind, gun in hand. Speed winced painfully, then tried to yell through his gag for his captor to "put me down!!!"

"Shut up!!" Moody snapped, irritated. "Unless you want a knock upside of the head, kid, you'll learn to keep quiet. And stop yer blasted squirming!"

Speed's eyes widened in shock. No way, did he want to get knocked out---especially since he now knew Pops was here! He shook his head. "N-no!! Um-umm!!!" He tried to calm himself as his guard descended down the rickety wooden stairs to the basement, but he was finding it increasingly difficult; the entire ordeal was starting to wear Speed down, both physically and mentally. "Pops...," he moaned weakly against his gag.

After what seemed like almost eternity, his guards brought him to the basement, where he was unceremoniously dumped on the cold, damp cement floor beneath the stairs. "OK. You just sit there, and be quiet. I don't want to hear a sound outta you. Or else!" Moody threatened a squirming Speed. "And no funny business, either. Got that?"

Poor Speed swallowed hard, closed his eyes, then turned his head away. He was sweating profusely now, and shaking badly. The longer his ordeal continued, the harder it was becoming for him to keep a positive front. Even knowing that his father was close by didn't help his growing anxiety much. He could only hope, that someone would be able to set him free---soon. Pops, Racer X? Obviously, Spritle DID get to you. I hope you guys get in here soon,, I don't know how much more of this I can take! Never again will I go out in the rain at 2 in the morning, just to make a practice run with the Mach 5---if, I make it out of this mess alive!

It didn't look very good at all...

Eventually, everything seemed to go quiet once again. Still, the earlier commotion was enough for Alpha Backup Driver #2 to go to the door, to investigate. He opened the front door, stuck his head out, but saw no one. "Huh?? I could've sworn, I heard the kid's old man out here---" Puzzled, the red-suited man stepped out and took a few steps forward.

There was a slight rustling sound coming from the nearby bushes. Then suddenly, a voice emanated from behind the driver. "Going somewhere??"

The man spun around---and walked right smack into the gloved fist of the incognito form of Rex Racer, aka Racer X. He didn't have to do much more---the driver dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap, out cold. "You know? You Alpha Team boys really need to smarten up," Racer X said, chuckling heartily. "You certainly didn't see that one coming, did you? Either that, or maybe you need glasses...Most likely, you need both. Smarts, and glasses!"

He dragged the unconscious man back to where Pops, Sparky, and Spritle were. "One down, three to go," he announced, dropping the thug down on the ground behind the cars. "Sparky, you and Spritle stay here and guard this fellow. Pops and I'll go after Speed."

Spritle, who was feeling a little hesitant about even being on the site of his capture again, decided to beat a hasty retreat. "Uhh...If you don't mind I think I'll just stay in the car," the little boy said, backing up to the Mach 5. "I think I had enough excitement, for one day."

He quickly climbed inside the Mach 5's trunk, much to his dad's dismay. "Spritle!!" Pops exclaimed, surprised by his son's retreat. "You get out here, right this minute! There's no need for you to hide, son, I'm right here---"

Sparky grimaced. He should have seen this coming. "Hey, easy, Pops! He's probably safer in the trunk right now, anyways," he pointed out. "What if the rest of those thugs, have guns?"

At that, Pops paused, and thought about that a moment. He had to admit, Sparky did have a good point. "I suppose you're right, Sparky. And after everything Spritle went through, to get to us," he murmured, breathing heavily and trying to collect himself. He was getting too old for these...'Cops and robbers' type misadventures, with his youngest boys.

But then a new, even more worrisome thought entered his mind. What if those hoodlums decided to turn their weapons on Speed? "Well, they'd better not try to use 'em on my son!" Pops snapped, his eyes blazing with anger. "Or they'll have ME to deal with!!!"

"They won't. Not if we get to Speed first," Racer X answered, grim-faced. "From what I could see, it looks like two didn't have weapons—this fellow, and the one standing over Speed. The fellow in the trenchcoat and sunglasses was clearly armed. But I don't know about the fourth man—I couldn't tell for sure."

While Racer X was still speaking, a fuming Pops mused over the information that had just been presented. ''So two of 'em might be armed, eh?" he muttered out loud to himself. "Then guns or no guns, I'm going in, and taking my son out!!!"

He charged towards the mansion, much to the dismay of both Sparky and Racer X. "Pops, no!!! Come back!!!" an alarmed Sparky yelled.

"Pops! Wait! We're supposed to wait for the inspector and his search warrant!" Racer X shouted worriedly. "You can't go in there by yourself, you'd be endangering both yourself and Speed!"

"Well, the Inspector and his warrant can catch up! I'm going in there, and getting my boy out. RIGHT NOW!!!" Pops was determined to take down Speed's kidnappers---by himself, if necessary.

Just then, the captured driver stirred, and groaned. He was starting to come to. "Uh-oh! He's waking up!" Sparky exclaimed nervously. "What'll I do?"

Spritle had an answer for every situation, it seemed. Digging around in the trunk of the Mach 5, the pudgy little youngster rummaged around until his hand made contact with some tools. Moments later, he triumphantly held up a monkey wrench. "Will this do?"

Sparky grinned. "Perfect! Toss it over, Spritle."

"With pleasure!" Spritle threw him the wrench.

The very groggy Alpha Team driver was struggling to his feet. "Ohhh, no you don't!" Sparky hollered, brandishing the wrench. "We're not ready to have you wake up yet, pal!" He clunked the man over the head with the tool. Stunned, the thug collapsed with a loud groan, then lay sprawled out on the ground.

Spritle giggled. "Boy! That really threw a monkey wrench into his day. Didn't it?" he hooted gleefully, enjoying the action.

Sparky laughed. "Yeah, it sure did."

The Racer boys' elder brother shot both Spritle and Sparky a wry look. "I hope you didn't hit him too hard, Sparky," Racer X said, bemused. "We'll need to question him, when the police arrive."

Sparky grinned. "Nah, I just stunned 'em." He paused, looked at his watch, then made a face. "I wonder how much longer it'll be, 'til Inspector Detector gets here. I told Pops, he shouldn't have been driving so fast---"

Spritle sat back down in the Mach 5's trunk. "Well, he was only trying to keep up with Racer X---"

"Well, then, maybe Racer X shouldn't have been driving that fast, either----"

X winced. Ouchh!!! I left myself wide open for that one! "Please! Can we leave the speed of my driving out of this?" he joked. "Besides, Spritle. You were the one who told me to go faster." Rex had his back turned, so he didn't see that his baby brother was sticking his tongue out at him!

Suddenly, Spritle caught sight of his dad trying to sneak off towards the mansion once again. The commotion with the captured Alpha Team member had initially stopped Pops Racer from charging the house, but having seen that both Sparky and Racer X were now occupied the burly race car designer saw his chance to strike out yet again and find his captive son. "Hey! Where's Pops going?" Spritle exclaimed, pointing excitedly in his dad's direction.

Rex Racer looked towards the house. "Oh, no. Please tell me, he's not---!" he groaned loudly, the small semblance of a frown appearing under the mask. "He is!"

He tried to get his father's attention. "Pops! I told you, to wait!" Racer X shouted, concerned about the potential fallout of Pops' actions. And the Masked Racer thought, Speed was a stubborn one--! Now I know where Speed gets his stubborness. Definitely from Pops!

Pops, of course, wouldn't listen. He continued to run as fast as he could towards the Wiley mansion, like a man possessed. Racer X sighed, then turned to Sparky and Spritle. "All right, I'm going to follow Pops. When Inspector Detector arrives, you two tell him, I had to go in. To keep Pops out of trouble!" he instructed them, then broke into a fast jog himself after the Racer family patriarch.

After Racer X left, Spritle looked at Sparky. "Well? I guess it's you, me, and 'Sleeping Ugly' here," the little boy quipped.

Sparky made a wry face at him. "Very cute, Spritle. I just hope you don't expect ME, to kiss him awake," the mechanic retorted with a tired grin.

Spritle giggled. "Who'd want to kiss a toad like him, anyways?"

Then, just in time to stop Pops from charging into the Wiley house, three dark-colored sedans pulled up onto the estate grounds and parked. Inspector Detector and his men had finally arrived, armed with the search warrant that Racer X had requested earlier. "Racer X!" the detective called out, getting out of his car. He was accompanied by two uniformed officers. "Sorry, but you fellows lost us in your dust back there. Here's the warrant you wanted." Detector handed an official-looking document to Racer X for inspection.

"Thanks, Inspector." Racer X turned, and saw Pops still trying to slink away—again. "Pops, relax! The inspector's here. Will you please wait a moment!" he called out. "That way, we can all go in together!"

Finally, Pops gave in. He was still pretty mad but common sense finally prevailed—if he had gone in willy-nilly and tried to single-handedly free Speed, it could have been total disaster. A personal disaster for both the Racer family, and in a court of law; any confessions and/or evidence the police might get, could be construed in court as tainted evidence and grounds for a possible mistrial. "Oh, all right, I'll wait," a red-faced Pops grumbled, leaning one hand on a nearby tree. "But hurry it up!"

Racer X nodded. "Good! Now that's been all settled...Oh, and Inspector? You might want to question this fellow." He pointed to the still-dazed man in the red racing suit. "I recognize him, he's one of Jack Wiley's backup drivers. I've raced against him, many times before."

Inspector Detector nodded. "Gladly!" He called to two of his men, who immediately put the dazed man under arrest. "All right, you. Start talking," the inspector demanded, staring hard at the prisoner. "Where's Speed Racer?"

The man glared, defiant as ever. "Go in, and search for yourself!" he snapped. "I dunno anything about where they took the kid."

That was enough for Pops. Gritting his teeth, his face turning an angry red, he rolled up a sleeve. Forget the jail cell; he was ready to deck this piece of trash and toss him in the nearest dumpster. "Yeah? You don't remember, eh?" the former pro wrestler exclaimed sarcastically. "Oh, you'll remember quick enough—once I introduce YOU, to MY fist!" He cocked his right arm back, intent on throwing a punch at the thug.

Suddenly, a gloved hand reached out and stopped him before he could even throw the punch. "Pops, settle down!" Racer X shouted, concern echoing in his voice. "This isn't a wrestling match. We're trying to find Speed, and we don't have a lot of time! So please, leave the questioning to the Inspector!"

A red-faced Pops huffed. "Well, I'm doing my part! I'm trying to get this goon to tell us where his buddies are hiding him," he shot back. " I'm just giving 'em a friendly little reminder, that's all."

Uhhh...Pops? You call that, a friendly little reminder...??? I'd hate to see, unfriendly!

Racer X turned to Inspector Detector. "Inspector, I think you'd better come in with us. We know how many are inside and that at least one of the guards is armed, but we don't know for sure about the others," he said quietly. "We may need your men to cover us."

The inspector agreed. "I'll have one of my men join us, then."

Racer X nodded somberly. "Then let's get this done!"

Leaving Sparky behind to keep an eye on both the Mach Five and the Shooting Star (not to mention Spritle, who was watching the unfolding drama from the safety of his favorite spot—the trunk of the Mach 5) and to make contact with Trixie at the race course, Racer X, Pops, Inspector Detector and a few of his uniformed officers cautiously approached the front of the mansion. The inspector walked up to the front door, and knocked. "Police! Open up, we have a search warrant---!"

They waited patiently for several long minutes for a reply. None came. Inspector Detector then decided they should enter the house, and carefully pushed open the door. "So this is what that scum Wiley's place looks like," Pops sarcastically said, looking around the stately-looking home. "Well, I've seen automotive junkyards, that looked better than this."

Racer X shook his head in warning. "Better keep your voice down, Pops. Wiley's muscle men are most likely still here."

The police began searching every room of the mansion, with little success. As they came into the parlor, however, another one of Wiley's backup drivers was attempting to make a break—and he definitely had a guilty look on his face. "Hold it right there!" one of the officers barked, drawing his weapon.

The Alpha Team driver bolted. Pops Racer was even quicker, with all that adrenalin rushing through him. Seeing the fellow attempting to flee, he grabbed the panicky driver and held him high above his head—then body slammed the man hard, to the sofa that had just been recently vacated by the captive Speed. "Where's my son???" Pops bellowed, grabbing the quaking Alpha driver by the front of his racing jacket and pulling him close to his face. Right now, Pops had all the charm of a ferocious mother grizzly bear, defending her cubs.

OK. Maybe the charm of an angry mother grizzly, combined with the charisma of Hulk Hogan... Not the best description of Speed's dad, but a pretty accurate one anyways!

Pops shook the man hard. "Where is Speed??? Answer me!!! Or I'll throttle you so hard, your whole body'll be spinning. Not just your head!" he yelled. "And it's too bad your boss isn't here, I'd do the same thing to him, too!"

"Mr. Racer, please! Calm down! Or I may have to arrest you, too!" Inspector Detector worriedly exclaimed, stepping in before Pops did something he'd later regret.. "You won't get any answers from the suspect, that way--!"

He stepped over to where two beefy officers had just handcuffed the prisoner. "All right. You can make things a lot easier for yourself, if you cooperate," Inspector Detector said, gazing directly at the shaken soon-to-be ex-race car driver. "What did Wiley and his men do with young Speed?"

The ex-driver cringed. One thing was certain, he was terrified of Speed's father—well, especially when Pops was standing practically next to him, arms folded across his broad chest and glaring at him like he was still ready to beat the crap out of him. "I-I don't know!!" the fellow stammered, sweating considerably. "I think th-they...I think, they took the kid downstairs. Yeah, that's it, to the basement...B-but I'd be careful, goin' down there. There's plenty of old oil drums and gas cans...And Jock and Moody both have guns!"