Part 5-TROUBLE COMES KNOCKING
Later, at the Pops Motors test track, Speed was doing his laps and trying to still get over his pique at Trixie's apparent deception. He was wracking his brain to trying figure out who it was that she could have been having lunch with. She certainly hadn't led him to believe that she knew anybody else in town or maybe he was too naive or arrogant to believe she didn't. She certainly was pretty enough that guys would be pursuing her but she never spoke of anyone special to him. Granted, they had only gone out once but the way they shared everything yesterday, talking non-stop she hadn't said a thing about any other guys. Surely she knew he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with her or else what was that kiss last night all about? She sure didn't seem the type of girl to keep two guys on the line. So if she was already seeing someone else, why hadn't she said so? And if she weren't seeing anyone, who'd be double-crossing him? Speed brooded over these and other questions as he made his laps, a dark scowl on his face. Whoever he is, if he's bird-dogging me, when I find him, I'll knock him right on his ass Speed promised himself grimly as he gripped the wheel tighter.
He wasn't one to go looking for trouble but if provoked, he never backed down from a challenge and if some guy was trying to muscle in on Trixie, look out. Another legacy that Rex had left him was to teach him to be a superior fighter. Ever since Speed was out of his diapers, Rex had shown him to land punches to defend himself or to gain the upper edge and at that tender age, Speed quickly caught on, showing ability to fell the biggest antagonist on any playground with a wicked right cross. As a former professional wrestler, Pops had also taught his boys wrestling moves and blows. With all this early training as Speed matured, he built up his endurance, arms and upper body strength sufficiently for the sports he had been involved in. And as his interest in racing grew, his top physical condition also prepared him for the grueling hours behind the wheel and it served him well in any fight.
The Mach 5 roared up to the finish line where Sparky met him with the stopwatch and clipboard in hand and a dubious expression on his face. He shook his head.
"Your times were off by at least three tenths, Speed. Good thing Pops ain't here or he'd chew you out good. What gives?"
Speed hoisted himself up and swung his legs over the side of the car. "Just get off my back, willya, Spark," he said dourly as he turned and focused his attention on the airfield next door.
Sparky sighed and discarded the watch and clipboard. He clapped his best friend on the back.
"Look, pal, she probably had lunch with a girl friend and forgot to tell you. And she was running late so she split. That's all," he said reasonably.
"So why didn't she just come out and tell me, huh? Sorry, but I'm having a hard time buying that," Speed snapped, his hurt and anger evident.
Sparky got right in front of Speed to look at him eye to eye. "Look, Speed, maybe her brain's as scrambled about you as yours is about her and she forgot. C'mon now, admit it, you've got your head in the clouds over this girl and you aren't thinking straight but face it, you've only known her for two days and gone out with her once."
Speed glared at his friend, a retort forming on his lips then his expression softened as he grudgingly admitted, "You're right, Sparky, but I can't help it. I've never felt like this for any girl before and as you know, I've gone out with quite a few girls." He studied the cottage to the left of the hangar, the yellow convertible nowhere to be seen, and sighed heavily as he turned away.
Trixie pulled up the driveway of her cottage at about 4:30. After the strange lunch with the even stranger Mr. Wiley, she had decided to take a drive to mull over the preposition he had presented to her. It was unthinkable that this man wanted her to use her aircraft to give his drivers unfair and illegal advantages in the coming races. She couldn't, she wouldn't do anything that was against the rules of the racing association or against the law. Her father had told her, when they moved there, that if they agreed to charter out to any racers, that they would adhere strictly to the rules without any fail. She had agreed with him wholeheartedly at the time and that had not changed.
Outside in the dark sedan, Slyme Balle was continuing in his surveillance of Trixie's cottage when the radio squawked for his attention
"Home base to Slyme Balle, Come in."
Slyme picked up the mike. "Slyme here."
"Phase 1 has failed. On to Phase 2. Did she get home yet?"
"She just pulled in."
"You know what to do."
"Roger."
Slyme replaced the mike and checking his pocket reached for the door handle to open the door. He crept almost leisurely to the cottage, his lips curved in a nasty smile.
Over at the track, Speed and Sparky were puttering under the hood of the Mach 5, making adjustments. They came up from the engine simultaneously and closed the hood firmly.
"Well, Speed, she's about as good as she's gonna get," Sparky said, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag. He sighed in satisfaction as he patted the hood. He glanced at his friend who was staring off in the direction of the airfield next door.
"Hey Speed!" No response. "Earth to Speed, come in Speed!" Sparky called, Mission Control style.
Speed whirled around. "Huh? You talking to me, Sparky?"
Sparky retorted, "If only I could. You haven't heard a word I've said for the last hour." He drew up to Speed's side and said, "Why don't you give her a call, now that she's home."
Speed shook his head vigorously. "No, not now. I'll do some more laps. Try to better my time." He started over to get into the Mach 5 but Sparky detained him.
"Never mind the laps, Speed. Your head ain't into your driving now, not while you're all hot and bothered about Trixie. You need to get over to her and talk, get everything out."
"Yeah, Sparky, you're right. I need to prepare for that race in two weeks and I won't be worth a damn unless I know definitely where I stand with her." He clapped his hand on his buddy's shoulder in appreciation. "Thanks for everything and especially for putting up with me this afternoon."
"Hey man, what are friends for?"
At her home Trixie was in the kitchen, washing some leftover dishes from the day before when her doorbell rang. Curious as to who it could be, she hurriedly wiped her hands on a dishtowel and headed to the door to answer. A tall man with sandy colored hair and piercing gray eyes smiled politely.
"Yes?"
"Trixie Shimura?"
"Yes."
"I have something very important to discuss with you. May I come in?"
Trixie hesitated but something in his eyes made her decide differently. "Okay." She opened the door and the man stepped inside.
Trixie looked at him curiously. "And what can I do to help y--" she began but was cut off as she was suddenly grabbed from behind and a knife held to her side. She became terrified, her eyes wide sea green pools.
"Now you listen to me, little lady. You're gonna listen very carefully and when I'm finished you and me are gonna have an understanding, okay?" he hissed in a soft, dangerous tone. "Because if you don't, it'll take very little for me to cut you up in ribbons."
Trixie's heart pounded with fear as she frantically struggled, thinking of how she could escape. Her captor must have noticed because he twisted the edge of the knife against her side ever so slightly so that the razor edge broke skin and she could feel the warm trickle of blood.
Her tormenter laughed as he felt the blood and said, "My apologies. I hadn't meant to make you bleed, at least not yet." He pulled her to the sofa, tossing some cartons aside pushed her down then turned around to don a pair of gloves.
As he turned his back, ignoring her injury Trixie took her chance and reached for the closest thing to hurl at him which was the vase with Speed's roses. Slyme's reflexes were quicker and he intercepted the projectile then tossed it carelessly on the floor, smashing the roses and shattering the vase into a million pieces leaving an explosion of glass and ivory petals. Cursing, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gagged her then grabbed her by the shoulders and jumping on top of her, straddled her, holding her wrists above her head in an iron grip.
The phone began to ring but Slyme kept his grip, like he didn't even hear it. With the gag in her mouth, Trixie whimpered in pain, horrified, wondering what the man was going to do to her next.
Slyme gazed evilly into Trixie's frightened eyes. This was the part of his job he truly relished, making sure his victims knew that he had complete control over them...
At the garage, Speed had just exited the restroom, brushing his hair back and preening before picking up the phone and dialing Trixie's number. He listened as the phone rang and rang without an answer. Perplexed, he went to the garage opening and glanced at her cottage to make sure she was home. The yellow convertible was still parked in the driveway and he could see a light in her living room window making it clear that she was indeed home. Frowning, he reluctantly hung up the phone, an uneasy chill gripping his spine. Speed couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was very, very, wrong.
He sprinted to the Mach 5 as Sparky emerged from underneath and leaped in. He turned the key and revved the engine.
"Hey, Speed, what gives?" Sparky asked as he saw his buddy's frightened face.
"Sparky, I think Trixie's in trouble. I gotta go." He shifted gears.
"Well, let me go with you. If there's trouble, two pairs of fists are better than one." Sparky leaped into the passenger seat just as Speed gunned the Mach 5 out of the garage, tearing out to the road.
Slyme Balle had been enjoying tormenting Trixie, describing to her the vile things he planned to do if she didn't cooperate. With each description, he got more and more pleasure out of seeing her squirm, her eyes big as saucers.
"You know, you are a pretty little thing. I bet we could have a lot of fun." Slyme intimated, his hand stroking Trixie's cheek. "The boss wouldn't mind if I had some fun with you before convincing you to change your mind."
Trixie renewed her struggles frantically at his dire implications. She drove her knees up and made solid contact with Slyme's back, knocking him of balance. His eyes flashed with rage as he yanked her off the sofa and to her feet.
"Okay, gametime's over. Now you listen to me. Mr. Wiley has given you an opportunity to be a very wealthy young lady by joining our racing team. And you gave Mr. Wiley an answer that he's very, very unhappy with. Now, I'm sure you can rethink your answer and change your mind now, can't you?" Slyme was taunting Trixie, holding both hands now with one of his and caressing her cheek as she shuddered in revulsion. He chuckled, amused by her terror. He untied the gag and snarled, "You best not scream if you know what's good for you. Now, what's your answer?"
"No!"
"Wrong answer!" Slyme drew his free hand back and slapped Trixie across her face, causing her lip to bleed. She continued to try to break free but Slyme hauled off and slapped her again, causing her to cry out and sending her sprawling over some cartons. He laughed and went to lean over her...
Speed and Sparky pulled up to the side of Trixie's cottage, cutting the motor and jumping out. Sparky grabbed a hold of Speed's arm and whispered, "What if she's just in the shower and we've just jumped to the mother of all conclusions?"
Speed replied, "Then I'm gonna feel like a Class A jerk but at least I'll know she's okay. Let's move."
They crept stealthily along the side of the small dwelling. As they passed the open living room window, they halted when they heard a deep masculine voice, murmuring too low to discern what was being said.
Sparky exclaimed, "Hey, she's in there with some guy! Maybe busting in now isn't the best thing to do."
Scowling, Speed held his finger to his lips. "Pipe down, willya?" His stomach churned with a mixture of uncertainty and growing jealousy. Suppose Sparky was right? Then I'll really feel like a Class A jerk.
His brooding thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable report of a slap followed by a feminine shriek and the thump of a body making contact with the floor.
Mobilized and needing no further proof, Speed turned to Sparky and growled fiercely, "Let's go! Now!"
They raced up the stairs taking two at a time. Speed wrenched open the door and burst in on the ensuing struggle. Finding Slyme Balle crouched over the supine form of his helpless girlfriend, he became enveloped in a red haze of fury, his eyes narrowed to sapphire slits. He vaulted over an easy chair and pounced on Slyme, grabbing him and turning him in one action. Speed then slammed his right fist in Slyme's belly and countered with a vicious left that sent the man flying back and into an end table. His face contorted in rage, Speed picked up the would-be assailant and began squeezing his throat in a wrestling hold, slowly, inexorably ceasing the man's ability to live.
Sparky inserted himself between the two and pushed Speed away. "Easy, Speed, you're gonna kill him! You're killing him! Let's just tie him up and call the fuzz."
Speed paid no mind, the sound of Slyme striking Trixie and the vision of his crouching over her, drove him relentlessly to exterminate this insect and had him in a bizarre type of tunnel vision that made him oblivious to everything else. A small sobbing whimper from the back of the room snapped him back to the present and Speed tossed the now unconscious Slyme aside like a rag doll as he rushed to Trixie's side.
"Trixie! Are you okay, baby? What did that bastard do to you?"
Trixie's eyes filled with tears and she flung herself into Speed's arms. "Oh Speed, I'm so glad you're here!"
"Shhh. It's okay, baby, it's all over now," Speed crooned as he held her, both arms wrapped tightly around, against his chest. His fingers came in contact with the dried blood on her side where the knife had sliced and alarmed he asked. "Did he do this to you, Trix?"
"Uhh-huh. He threatened to do worse till you came. Oh Speed, I was so scared!"
"Who is he, honey?" Speed asked gently. Sparky, after he tied up the unconscious henchman, knelt beside her as well, eyes riveted to her.
"H-he works for a man named Wiley that wanted to hire me as a pilot. He's who I had the appointment with today when I left the track. He called me and insisted to meet me to discuss it."
"What'd he want to hire you for?" Speed wanted to know.
Trixie sniffled, "He wanted me to be part of his racing team by carrying out duties to sabotage other racers during races. He wanted me to fly ahead, change road directions, booby trap roads, you name it."
Speed nodded, "And you refused."
"Yes. He even tried to get me to agree using my father's hospital bills as a reason to force me. He knew that I'm in financial difficulties and am trying to make some major decisions so I can pay the bills."
Speed glanced at Sparky. "I think we'd better call Inspector Detector," he said grimly.
Sparky nodded in agreement. "I'll buzz him right now." He got up and went to the phone. After a short conversation, he informed Speed, "He's on his way with a squad car."
"Good."
"Speed?" Trixie asked in a small voice.
Speed turned his attention back to her. "What, baby?"
"I-I'm sorry I smashed your roses." She pointed to the shards of blue glass and white rose petals with bare stems that were splattered on the floor. "I tried to hit him with the vase and missed."
Speed smiled gently. "That's okay, Trix. I promise I'll bring you some more." His smile faded as he saw the swelling of her cheek and the blood seeping from her side. "C'mon, honey."
He got to his feet and helped Trixie up. "I think we'd better get you to the hospital and get your side looked at." He glared at Slyme who was coming to and groggy, trussed up on a hard-backed chair, courtesy of Sparky. He gently touched the growing bruise on her cheek. "He really used you like a punching bag, didn't he? I should've killed him," he muttered darkly.
"I'm okay, Speed, really. You don't have to fuss--" Trixie said but Speed cut her off.
"Nothing doing. I'm taking you to the hospital. Now." He firmly led her to the door and said to Sparky over his shoulder, "Spark, stick around here and wait for the Inspector, willya? He can meet me at National Hospital if he wants to talk to us. And call Pops and let him know what's going on." With his arm protectively around Trixie, Speed opened the door and led her out to the Mach 5.
Later, at the Pops Motors test track, Speed was doing his laps and trying to still get over his pique at Trixie's apparent deception. He was wracking his brain to trying figure out who it was that she could have been having lunch with. She certainly hadn't led him to believe that she knew anybody else in town or maybe he was too naive or arrogant to believe she didn't. She certainly was pretty enough that guys would be pursuing her but she never spoke of anyone special to him. Granted, they had only gone out once but the way they shared everything yesterday, talking non-stop she hadn't said a thing about any other guys. Surely she knew he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with her or else what was that kiss last night all about? She sure didn't seem the type of girl to keep two guys on the line. So if she was already seeing someone else, why hadn't she said so? And if she weren't seeing anyone, who'd be double-crossing him? Speed brooded over these and other questions as he made his laps, a dark scowl on his face. Whoever he is, if he's bird-dogging me, when I find him, I'll knock him right on his ass Speed promised himself grimly as he gripped the wheel tighter.
He wasn't one to go looking for trouble but if provoked, he never backed down from a challenge and if some guy was trying to muscle in on Trixie, look out. Another legacy that Rex had left him was to teach him to be a superior fighter. Ever since Speed was out of his diapers, Rex had shown him to land punches to defend himself or to gain the upper edge and at that tender age, Speed quickly caught on, showing ability to fell the biggest antagonist on any playground with a wicked right cross. As a former professional wrestler, Pops had also taught his boys wrestling moves and blows. With all this early training as Speed matured, he built up his endurance, arms and upper body strength sufficiently for the sports he had been involved in. And as his interest in racing grew, his top physical condition also prepared him for the grueling hours behind the wheel and it served him well in any fight.
The Mach 5 roared up to the finish line where Sparky met him with the stopwatch and clipboard in hand and a dubious expression on his face. He shook his head.
"Your times were off by at least three tenths, Speed. Good thing Pops ain't here or he'd chew you out good. What gives?"
Speed hoisted himself up and swung his legs over the side of the car. "Just get off my back, willya, Spark," he said dourly as he turned and focused his attention on the airfield next door.
Sparky sighed and discarded the watch and clipboard. He clapped his best friend on the back.
"Look, pal, she probably had lunch with a girl friend and forgot to tell you. And she was running late so she split. That's all," he said reasonably.
"So why didn't she just come out and tell me, huh? Sorry, but I'm having a hard time buying that," Speed snapped, his hurt and anger evident.
Sparky got right in front of Speed to look at him eye to eye. "Look, Speed, maybe her brain's as scrambled about you as yours is about her and she forgot. C'mon now, admit it, you've got your head in the clouds over this girl and you aren't thinking straight but face it, you've only known her for two days and gone out with her once."
Speed glared at his friend, a retort forming on his lips then his expression softened as he grudgingly admitted, "You're right, Sparky, but I can't help it. I've never felt like this for any girl before and as you know, I've gone out with quite a few girls." He studied the cottage to the left of the hangar, the yellow convertible nowhere to be seen, and sighed heavily as he turned away.
Trixie pulled up the driveway of her cottage at about 4:30. After the strange lunch with the even stranger Mr. Wiley, she had decided to take a drive to mull over the preposition he had presented to her. It was unthinkable that this man wanted her to use her aircraft to give his drivers unfair and illegal advantages in the coming races. She couldn't, she wouldn't do anything that was against the rules of the racing association or against the law. Her father had told her, when they moved there, that if they agreed to charter out to any racers, that they would adhere strictly to the rules without any fail. She had agreed with him wholeheartedly at the time and that had not changed.
Outside in the dark sedan, Slyme Balle was continuing in his surveillance of Trixie's cottage when the radio squawked for his attention
"Home base to Slyme Balle, Come in."
Slyme picked up the mike. "Slyme here."
"Phase 1 has failed. On to Phase 2. Did she get home yet?"
"She just pulled in."
"You know what to do."
"Roger."
Slyme replaced the mike and checking his pocket reached for the door handle to open the door. He crept almost leisurely to the cottage, his lips curved in a nasty smile.
Over at the track, Speed and Sparky were puttering under the hood of the Mach 5, making adjustments. They came up from the engine simultaneously and closed the hood firmly.
"Well, Speed, she's about as good as she's gonna get," Sparky said, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag. He sighed in satisfaction as he patted the hood. He glanced at his friend who was staring off in the direction of the airfield next door.
"Hey Speed!" No response. "Earth to Speed, come in Speed!" Sparky called, Mission Control style.
Speed whirled around. "Huh? You talking to me, Sparky?"
Sparky retorted, "If only I could. You haven't heard a word I've said for the last hour." He drew up to Speed's side and said, "Why don't you give her a call, now that she's home."
Speed shook his head vigorously. "No, not now. I'll do some more laps. Try to better my time." He started over to get into the Mach 5 but Sparky detained him.
"Never mind the laps, Speed. Your head ain't into your driving now, not while you're all hot and bothered about Trixie. You need to get over to her and talk, get everything out."
"Yeah, Sparky, you're right. I need to prepare for that race in two weeks and I won't be worth a damn unless I know definitely where I stand with her." He clapped his hand on his buddy's shoulder in appreciation. "Thanks for everything and especially for putting up with me this afternoon."
"Hey man, what are friends for?"
At her home Trixie was in the kitchen, washing some leftover dishes from the day before when her doorbell rang. Curious as to who it could be, she hurriedly wiped her hands on a dishtowel and headed to the door to answer. A tall man with sandy colored hair and piercing gray eyes smiled politely.
"Yes?"
"Trixie Shimura?"
"Yes."
"I have something very important to discuss with you. May I come in?"
Trixie hesitated but something in his eyes made her decide differently. "Okay." She opened the door and the man stepped inside.
Trixie looked at him curiously. "And what can I do to help y--" she began but was cut off as she was suddenly grabbed from behind and a knife held to her side. She became terrified, her eyes wide sea green pools.
"Now you listen to me, little lady. You're gonna listen very carefully and when I'm finished you and me are gonna have an understanding, okay?" he hissed in a soft, dangerous tone. "Because if you don't, it'll take very little for me to cut you up in ribbons."
Trixie's heart pounded with fear as she frantically struggled, thinking of how she could escape. Her captor must have noticed because he twisted the edge of the knife against her side ever so slightly so that the razor edge broke skin and she could feel the warm trickle of blood.
Her tormenter laughed as he felt the blood and said, "My apologies. I hadn't meant to make you bleed, at least not yet." He pulled her to the sofa, tossing some cartons aside pushed her down then turned around to don a pair of gloves.
As he turned his back, ignoring her injury Trixie took her chance and reached for the closest thing to hurl at him which was the vase with Speed's roses. Slyme's reflexes were quicker and he intercepted the projectile then tossed it carelessly on the floor, smashing the roses and shattering the vase into a million pieces leaving an explosion of glass and ivory petals. Cursing, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gagged her then grabbed her by the shoulders and jumping on top of her, straddled her, holding her wrists above her head in an iron grip.
The phone began to ring but Slyme kept his grip, like he didn't even hear it. With the gag in her mouth, Trixie whimpered in pain, horrified, wondering what the man was going to do to her next.
Slyme gazed evilly into Trixie's frightened eyes. This was the part of his job he truly relished, making sure his victims knew that he had complete control over them...
At the garage, Speed had just exited the restroom, brushing his hair back and preening before picking up the phone and dialing Trixie's number. He listened as the phone rang and rang without an answer. Perplexed, he went to the garage opening and glanced at her cottage to make sure she was home. The yellow convertible was still parked in the driveway and he could see a light in her living room window making it clear that she was indeed home. Frowning, he reluctantly hung up the phone, an uneasy chill gripping his spine. Speed couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was very, very, wrong.
He sprinted to the Mach 5 as Sparky emerged from underneath and leaped in. He turned the key and revved the engine.
"Hey, Speed, what gives?" Sparky asked as he saw his buddy's frightened face.
"Sparky, I think Trixie's in trouble. I gotta go." He shifted gears.
"Well, let me go with you. If there's trouble, two pairs of fists are better than one." Sparky leaped into the passenger seat just as Speed gunned the Mach 5 out of the garage, tearing out to the road.
Slyme Balle had been enjoying tormenting Trixie, describing to her the vile things he planned to do if she didn't cooperate. With each description, he got more and more pleasure out of seeing her squirm, her eyes big as saucers.
"You know, you are a pretty little thing. I bet we could have a lot of fun." Slyme intimated, his hand stroking Trixie's cheek. "The boss wouldn't mind if I had some fun with you before convincing you to change your mind."
Trixie renewed her struggles frantically at his dire implications. She drove her knees up and made solid contact with Slyme's back, knocking him of balance. His eyes flashed with rage as he yanked her off the sofa and to her feet.
"Okay, gametime's over. Now you listen to me. Mr. Wiley has given you an opportunity to be a very wealthy young lady by joining our racing team. And you gave Mr. Wiley an answer that he's very, very unhappy with. Now, I'm sure you can rethink your answer and change your mind now, can't you?" Slyme was taunting Trixie, holding both hands now with one of his and caressing her cheek as she shuddered in revulsion. He chuckled, amused by her terror. He untied the gag and snarled, "You best not scream if you know what's good for you. Now, what's your answer?"
"No!"
"Wrong answer!" Slyme drew his free hand back and slapped Trixie across her face, causing her lip to bleed. She continued to try to break free but Slyme hauled off and slapped her again, causing her to cry out and sending her sprawling over some cartons. He laughed and went to lean over her...
Speed and Sparky pulled up to the side of Trixie's cottage, cutting the motor and jumping out. Sparky grabbed a hold of Speed's arm and whispered, "What if she's just in the shower and we've just jumped to the mother of all conclusions?"
Speed replied, "Then I'm gonna feel like a Class A jerk but at least I'll know she's okay. Let's move."
They crept stealthily along the side of the small dwelling. As they passed the open living room window, they halted when they heard a deep masculine voice, murmuring too low to discern what was being said.
Sparky exclaimed, "Hey, she's in there with some guy! Maybe busting in now isn't the best thing to do."
Scowling, Speed held his finger to his lips. "Pipe down, willya?" His stomach churned with a mixture of uncertainty and growing jealousy. Suppose Sparky was right? Then I'll really feel like a Class A jerk.
His brooding thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable report of a slap followed by a feminine shriek and the thump of a body making contact with the floor.
Mobilized and needing no further proof, Speed turned to Sparky and growled fiercely, "Let's go! Now!"
They raced up the stairs taking two at a time. Speed wrenched open the door and burst in on the ensuing struggle. Finding Slyme Balle crouched over the supine form of his helpless girlfriend, he became enveloped in a red haze of fury, his eyes narrowed to sapphire slits. He vaulted over an easy chair and pounced on Slyme, grabbing him and turning him in one action. Speed then slammed his right fist in Slyme's belly and countered with a vicious left that sent the man flying back and into an end table. His face contorted in rage, Speed picked up the would-be assailant and began squeezing his throat in a wrestling hold, slowly, inexorably ceasing the man's ability to live.
Sparky inserted himself between the two and pushed Speed away. "Easy, Speed, you're gonna kill him! You're killing him! Let's just tie him up and call the fuzz."
Speed paid no mind, the sound of Slyme striking Trixie and the vision of his crouching over her, drove him relentlessly to exterminate this insect and had him in a bizarre type of tunnel vision that made him oblivious to everything else. A small sobbing whimper from the back of the room snapped him back to the present and Speed tossed the now unconscious Slyme aside like a rag doll as he rushed to Trixie's side.
"Trixie! Are you okay, baby? What did that bastard do to you?"
Trixie's eyes filled with tears and she flung herself into Speed's arms. "Oh Speed, I'm so glad you're here!"
"Shhh. It's okay, baby, it's all over now," Speed crooned as he held her, both arms wrapped tightly around, against his chest. His fingers came in contact with the dried blood on her side where the knife had sliced and alarmed he asked. "Did he do this to you, Trix?"
"Uhh-huh. He threatened to do worse till you came. Oh Speed, I was so scared!"
"Who is he, honey?" Speed asked gently. Sparky, after he tied up the unconscious henchman, knelt beside her as well, eyes riveted to her.
"H-he works for a man named Wiley that wanted to hire me as a pilot. He's who I had the appointment with today when I left the track. He called me and insisted to meet me to discuss it."
"What'd he want to hire you for?" Speed wanted to know.
Trixie sniffled, "He wanted me to be part of his racing team by carrying out duties to sabotage other racers during races. He wanted me to fly ahead, change road directions, booby trap roads, you name it."
Speed nodded, "And you refused."
"Yes. He even tried to get me to agree using my father's hospital bills as a reason to force me. He knew that I'm in financial difficulties and am trying to make some major decisions so I can pay the bills."
Speed glanced at Sparky. "I think we'd better call Inspector Detector," he said grimly.
Sparky nodded in agreement. "I'll buzz him right now." He got up and went to the phone. After a short conversation, he informed Speed, "He's on his way with a squad car."
"Good."
"Speed?" Trixie asked in a small voice.
Speed turned his attention back to her. "What, baby?"
"I-I'm sorry I smashed your roses." She pointed to the shards of blue glass and white rose petals with bare stems that were splattered on the floor. "I tried to hit him with the vase and missed."
Speed smiled gently. "That's okay, Trix. I promise I'll bring you some more." His smile faded as he saw the swelling of her cheek and the blood seeping from her side. "C'mon, honey."
He got to his feet and helped Trixie up. "I think we'd better get you to the hospital and get your side looked at." He glared at Slyme who was coming to and groggy, trussed up on a hard-backed chair, courtesy of Sparky. He gently touched the growing bruise on her cheek. "He really used you like a punching bag, didn't he? I should've killed him," he muttered darkly.
"I'm okay, Speed, really. You don't have to fuss--" Trixie said but Speed cut her off.
"Nothing doing. I'm taking you to the hospital. Now." He firmly led her to the door and said to Sparky over his shoulder, "Spark, stick around here and wait for the Inspector, willya? He can meet me at National Hospital if he wants to talk to us. And call Pops and let him know what's going on." With his arm protectively around Trixie, Speed opened the door and led her out to the Mach 5.