STORM ON THE HORIZON-Part 4
In his estate, seated at his desk in his study, Racer X alias Rex Racer was pouring through a document, part of a packet that all Formula 1 racers received from IRC prior to the Mont Royale Grand Prix. It was the course map and summary of various road signs and landmarks that would assist the drivers and their crews. Rex had a map of Mont Royale and the surrounding area and was making quick notations when there was a knock on his study door.
"Yeah, come in, Joe," Rex called and his crew chief and valet entered carrying a large envelope.
"This just came for you by special courier from IPF." He handed the envelope to his employer.
Rex regarded the envelope with a mixture of relief and regret. He knew the information it contained would tell him his next move in the Rubicon I disappearance case however, with Speed's wedding on his mind he really looked upon the assignment as a nuisance, yet a necessary evil. He sighed as he held the envelope in his hands.
"You should open it and find out what our next move is," Joe prompted.
"You know, Joe, sometimes you have an annoying grasp of the obvious." Rex ran a finger under the flap and tore the envelope open. He pulled a sheaf of papers out and an official missive from the chief of IPF. He read the note:
Agent 9-
The latest information concerning the move of the Rubicon I to Sylvania is included in the enclosed documentation. Intelligence sources believe that HISS intends that the gem shall be transported to the commonwealth of Mont Royale in the next three weeks and then moved over the border on June, 15th, the day of the Mont Royale Grand Prix. Your entry in the race is paramount in the recovery of the Rubicon I.
Chief Pettit.
Rex regarded Joe with a dubious expression. "Well, it looks like this assignment will be no piece of cake." He leafed through the accompanying dossier at the Interpol case report, the initial investigation, report, and the undercover operative report, handing the documents to Grimes as he finished reading them. He then referred to the course map on his desk and spoke.
"It looks like the jewel will be carried over the border right about here." Rex pointed at the border checkpoint.
Joe studied the map. "Yeah, but what about the border guards? Anything going over the border has to have customs papers and if they see the stolen gem, they won't let it past."
"Yeah," Rex said absently as he continued to read. He then perked up. "Jackpot! The report says that there's belief by the intelligence operatives that an attempt to assassinate President Gabriele will take place soon. It makes sense that the attempt would coincide with the race according to the intelligence report."
Joe let out a long whistle. "Quite a clambake gonna go down, huh. Leave it to our friends at HISS." He turned and spotted the daily local newspaper, engagement announcements and saw the picture of Speed and Trixie with the caption: Local Racing Champion To Tie The Knot – Speed Racer to Wed Longtime Love. Changing the subject, Joe remarked, "That's a nice picture of your brother and his intended."
Rex took the paper from Grimes. "Yeah." He studied the photo and even though it was typically grainy he could still see the sparkle in the couple's eyes as they gazed lovingly at each other. Rex couldn't help but grin as he nodded and remarked, "And I can't think of anyone who deserves it more."
"They've been going together long, haven't they?"
"Uh-huh. About just over three years. Trixie's been his spotter and on occasion his navigator. I wondered when he was finally going to make it official with her." Rex informed him.
Joe took hold of the paper and perused the story. "Hey, it says here that Speed's wedding is gonna be the day after the Grand Prix race, right at the Presidential Palace at Gabriele's invitation. That's quite an honor."
"Yeah, according to this, Gabriele's a huge racing fan and he offered the use of his formal garden for the ceremony. If Speed wins the race it'll be a great way to start off his nuptials."
"But we're gonna try to win the Grand Prix aren't we?" Joe wanted to know.
Rex continued his intense regard of the article. "Yeah, we are." He smiled in anticipation of locking horns once again in a race with his little brother.
Later that evening, Rex took a stroll about the grounds of his home and came to his favorite place to reflect, a secluded area surrounded by dogwood trees and flanked by white rose bushes as a tribute to his mother. The bench he placed there overlooked the western horizon and afforded him quite the view of the city limits. It was a place he was free to be Rex Racer, with no other encumbrances to force the moniker of Racer X upon him.
Rex sat down with a sigh and watched as the sinking sun painted the evening sky in hues of orange, pink, blue, and purple. He closed his midnight eyes and let his memories take him back . . .
Flashback: ten years ago . . .Leadfoot 400
He had just made the final lap, down the back straightaway and headed towards the turns. He felt the adrenaline rush throughout his body and his heart pounded like a triphammer in his chest as he made the corners. Rex took note of a bit of shimmying of the rear end but paid it no heed as he headed down the home stretch, the flagman in his sights. Then as he came within half a football field to the checkered flag, the rear end fishtailed, and he went into a spin and crashed into the infield wall.
Rex shook his head from the jarring impact and the stench of the vehicle burning filled his nostrils. Checking his body for broken bones and finding none, he hoisted himself up and vaulted over the side of the car. Then Pops craggy face appeared with several Go Team members to check on him.
"Rex! Rex, son are you all right?" Pops pleaded as he grasped him by the shoulders.
Rex reassured, "Yeah, Pops I'm okay. And I almost won!" If not for the crash he would have won was going through his head. What Pops said next shocked him, like getting a bucket of icy water thrown in his face
"No you didn't! I saw and your driving technique was very bad, you haven't the experience to win any race and you destroyed my car!"
"But I can be a champion, Pops!" he began but Pops brusquely cut him off.
"No you won't, I don't want you to get behind the wheel of a racecar again!"
Rex became incensed as he realized the meaning of his father's words. He had no right to order him never to get in a racecar again! "Well, then I'll just have to do it on my own. I'm leaving home, so good bye Pops." He then took off, his eyes burning with hot tears of disappointment, last vestiges of the little boy he had once been left behind.
He had no clue as to where he would go next until a clipped, refined voice stopped him. "Rex Racer, would you come with me, please?"
Rex looked and saw through the watery veneer a large Middle Eastern man, head covered in a turban, expression stoically taciturn. Rex quickly brushed the moisture from his eyes as he asked, "Do I know you?"
"No sir, but my master wishes to speak with you for a moment. If you'll be so kind as to follow me." He headed to a long black limousine and climbed in the back with Rex following.
As they rode along, Rex was filled to bursting with curiosity as to why this man's "master" would want an audience with him. This situation had all the makings of a royal summons, complete with chauffeur and silent consort.
He was surprised to see that they had pulled up to the area just behind the winner's circle. The post race hubbub was dying down and the chauffeur turned off the engine as they waited. It wasn't too long before the limousine door opened and a man slipped in. He was clad in deep blue and had raven black hair and intense umber eyes. He smiled at Rex, exposing even white teeth.
"Rex Racer, how kind of you to accept my invitation. Would you care for a drink?"
Rex shook his head. "No, thank you Kabala. I'm just curious as to why you'd like to speak to me."
"Well, then I'll just, as you Americans say, cut to the chase. I see the talent in your racing but your driving skills need a bit of polish. I'd like you to consider coming back to Kapetapek with me so I can give you the training and experience you need."
Rex eyed the man in a mixture of surprise and suspicion. "You raced me neck and neck and if I hadn't crashed I'd have won. Why all the interest in a competitor, Kabala?"
Kabala grinned, "Because I see some potential for greatness buried under all that bravado and I'd like to help you bring it out. I also heard that you told your father that you intend to achieve this without his help."
"Nothing gets by you does it?" Rex retorted disdainfully.
Kabala threw his head back and chuckled. "You are pretty arrogant considering that you have no place to go. I'm offering you a place so what is your answer?"
Rex sighed as he realized the man was speaking the truth. His anger at Pops had driven him right out of his home so he nodded. "Okay, Kabala. I'm taking your offer."
"Splendid. There's a plane ready to take off from a private airfield in about an hour. Do you need to retrieve anything from your home?"
Rex thought about how difficult it would be facing his family again after the huge blow-up with Pops but he wanted to see his mother and Speed again to explain. He decided to take the chance and have Kabala drop him at the Racer house.
Once there, Rex noticed that the family vehicle was not around so he ascertained that Pops, Mom and Speed were either still at the track or out somewhere. He felt relieved so he used his key and went to his room to pack some basic belongings. He then jotted down a quick note and once that was done, he stopped to gaze at the picture on his dresser. It was a snapshot of him and the Mach 1, with young Speed looking up to him with naked adoration in his cobalt blue eyes. He took the frame and spoke to the picture of his kid brother.
"I'm sorry, Speedy but I have to do this. Pops can't forbid me to race so I'm gonna do it on my own. Maybe one day I'll be back but for now, I'm gonna go out and make Pops eat his words. Good-bye little brother, I love you." He wiped a stray tear away and replaced the photo back on the dresser just as the limousine horn sounded. Carrying his suitcase, he descended the stairs, took one last look around the living room, opened the door and exited. He taped the note to the front door and sprinted to the waiting limousine.
Rex entered with his bag and Kabala asked, "Is everything all set?"
Rex nodded woodenly as Kabala tapped on the partition to inform the chauffeur. Rex watched with a heavy heart as they pulled away and the home that he had grown up in so happily and with so much love faded from view.
Rex opened his eyes and sighed deeply, the recollection bringing a dull ache to his heart as it always did when he would brood about his departure from home. The memories were not finished with him, however, as the evening shadows advanced and the horizon darkened . . .
Flashback—three years later
In the island country of Kapetapek, the palatial estate of Kabala stood just to the outskirts of the main city limits of the capital. Kabala's estate had every creature comfort including a regulation size racing oval, complete with 33 degree banking for the turns. It was here that two sleek racing machines, one deep blue and one yellow and black were thundering around the track. The yellow and black car, however held the advantage and pulled ahead to cross a makeshift finish line first. Both vehicles screeched to a halt and the drivers climbed from their respective cockpits, doffing their helmets and gloves.
Kabala grinned as he leaned against his car. "Well, Rex, you have indeed surpassed my greatest expectations. Well done."
Rex returned the grin as he took a deep breath. "Thanks Kabala. But if it weren't for you, I could've very easily ended up in Skid Row."
Kabala tossed his head back with a chuckle. "Oh no, my friend. You have too much genius and skills for that to have happened. I just saw the potential." It was just as he said, Rex being what the design genius Pops Racer's first born son only could be, had built his racecar, aptly named the Shooting Star from the ground up, from power plant to chassis.
Modestly, he pointed out, "That may be true but potential that doesn't parley into skills can very quickly disappear. And as far genius, that is no guarantee for an assured life. Just ask Chopin, Mozart, and Van Goh."
"Point well made, Rex," Kabala said.
"I think I'm ready to enter into the Formula 1 circuit." Rex stated matter-of-factly. The official start of the Formula 1 season was a month away, with the Grand Prix at Le Mans.
Kabala nodded, "Yes, I believe you are. But before you do I want you to meet someone."
Both men's attentions were then drawn to a dark suited man with a powerful presence who was striding over to them. He drew up to the two men and Kabala's attitude became one of utmost respect, like one afforded to a figure of immense authority.
"I'm so glad you could make it, sir." Kabala said reverently as Rex smirked at the man's departure from his usual imperious manner. Kabala shot a look at Rex while he provided the introductions.
"Chief Charles Pettit I'd like you to meet my protégé, Rex Racer."
Chief Pettit offered his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Kabala speaks quite highly of you."
Rex took the chief's hand and marveled at the strong grip the man had. It appeared that his handshake was like the rest of him, a presence that demanded and received respect.
"I'm afraid that you have it over me, sir for he's never spoken to me of you," Rex responded a touch glibly.
The chief gave Rex a rare smile. "I'm afraid that's my fault. I've told him not to tell anyone of my organization or me. However, I will tell you. I am the commander of the International Police Force, a world-wide organization dedicated to the mission of keeping law and order that transcends countries' borders."
"I see," Rex said as he digested the news. "And what, pray tell, does that have to do with me?"
Kabala came forward. "I suggest we retire to the house for refreshment and to discuss the proposition we have for you." He led them up the path to the house.
Later that afternoon after the chief had long departed Rex approached his mentor.
"Kabala, what was that all about? The man had a complete presentation for me, I felt like he was trying to recruit me. Why would he think I'd be interested in the way his organization works? And what was that preposition you mentioned?" Rex bombarded his host with questions as they stood in Kabala's study.
Kabala leaned back and examined the impatient young man before him. He gestured to a leather chair before the desk and leaned on the latter, with arms crossed.
"Rex, I contacted Chief Pettit because I wanted him to meet you for himself. And as I knew, he was deeply impressed with you.
"And your point is?"
Kabala leaned closer. "He would like if you would consider joining us. Your outstanding acumen with machines and engineering talent would serve us well."
Rex looked at his mentor in utter amazement. He had always pictured himself to only race, that was all he wanted to do since he was out of diapers. The chief's presentation had him believing that they wanted him to consider becoming an undercover agent and now Kabala's words had confirmed it. He let out a long, low whistle.
"And what is the reason that you'd want to recruit me to be an agent? When exactly did you come up with this?" Rex wanted to know.
"I saw in you a mixture of courage and aggressiveness the first time we raced against each other, you were virtually fearless. But you were barely a man, just in your teens. You needed to learn discipline and to control your temper both on and off the racetrack. It was your temper that performed an act of rash and impulsive anger that drove a wedge between you and your family."
Rex nodded silently as Kabala went on. "But I knew that if I could channel that anger and aggression into a safe and responsible racing style, that you'd be unbeatable. And I was right, as your many amateur wins attest to. So I figured that you may bring those same attributes into a position with IPF. And you did tell me of your many black belts in martial arts."
"Uh-huh," Rex answered as he frowned thoughtfully. He had never considered any other vocation than racing but he was admittedly intrigued by the notion of working undercover as an agent for IPF. And he could still race, after all Kabala was one of the top racers on the circuit.
"Okay, Kabala. I'll give it a try."
Kabala smiled and offered his hand. "Welcome, my friend. You will find it as rewarding as it is challenging. But it is important to keep your life as clandestine as possible to remain successful."
"Okay." And so the alias of Racer X had its seeds sown.
End Flashback
Rex sighed as he noted the complete darkness and the evening chill that had descended. He then began recalling the landslide that was the cause of Kabala's demise . . .
Flashback: four years later
The Race In The Mountains was one of the most harrowing and grueling races Rex had ever run. To add to the difficulty of the course the day prior to the race, the mountain course had been hit with a cloudburst, making the terrain especially unstable. In addition at the time of the race both he and his mentor Kabala had built their own reputations in the Formula 1 circuit as being aggressive to the point of being adversarial toward their competitors, causing crashes as they advanced to win. It was an unfair assumption made theory by the jealousy of other racing teams but unfortunately the reputation stuck to both men and due to their undercover work with IPF, they did nothing to quell the rumors. In the seven years Rex had been living and working with Kabala, the enigmatic man had trained him in every aspect of racing on every terrain, especially the mountains.
In this particular race, Rex in his newly acquired racing alter ego of Racer X was running, keeping stride for stride with Kabala as they raced the treacherous mountain course. Since Rex began running in the Formula 1 races, he and his mentor and friend often became competitors, vying for the checkered flag. As they rounded the curve at the halfway point up the mountain, Racer X was on Kabala's quarter panel just as a landslide came roaring down the mountainside, the momentum of the mud and rocks sending Kabala's car over the ledge.
Rex stopped the Shooting Star and bolted out of the car to the ledge to assist but it was too late, the landslide had buried Kabala and his car beneath tons of mud and rock.
Rex stood there staring at the sight, completely numb and disbelieving. His mentor, rescuer, and friend was in the morass below and he could do nothing to save him. Tears stung his midnight blue eyes as he spoke.
"Kabala, I'm so sorry this happened to you. And I'm sorrier that I can't do anything except stand here and watch as you go to your Maker. I will always be grateful for what you did for me those many years ago when my life fell apart. I will never forget you, good-bye my friend." He then sat on a rock and sobbed like he was a small boy again.
A few months later, he felt impelled out of loyalty to run in the Fire Race and win it to open the borders of Kapetapek disguised as Kabala but toward the end, he confided in and revealed his identity to Speed.
End Flashback
Rex shook his head and noticed that night had completely fallen. The full moon was high in the sky like a newly minted silver dollar, with lacy clouds framing it among the starry clime. Yawning, he got to his feet and stretched, shaking the cobwebs from his head. He peered out at the view of the city lights below him and idly wondered what his brother Speed was doing on a beautiful night like this. Probably out with Trixie having a good time together, talking about their future. He realized that he was thrilled deep down about being in Speed and Trixie's wedding . . .
About 25 miles away in the northwestern section of the city, there was a dinner club called The Blue Light, a small, cozy spot complete with soft music, mood lighting and a terrace that looked over a sparkling pond. The Mach 5 rumbled into the parking lot and pulled into a parking place. Speed cut the motor and the lights then turned to his fiancée.
"Well, here we are. Are you sure that Sparky and Janine wanted to meet us here?"
Trixie nodded, "Uh-huh. I would've thought that they would want to be alone for a first date but Janine told me that they both wanted to meet us here for dinner and dancing."
Speed grunted, "Hmm. You think they'd know that maybe we'd like to be alone."
Trixie patted his arm. "Now, now there. This is a real groovy place, don't be a wet blanket. Besides, I'm trying to cheer you up, you've been in a blue funk since we were looking at the photo albums the other day. "
"I don't need cheering up," Speed pouted. "And I'm not being a wet blanket, I just want to be alone with you, not play chaperone."
Trixie sighed and then leaned over and nuzzled his cheek. "C'mon now, the way this place is set up we'll be alone together on the dance floor. And there's always the terrace."
Speed's eyes lit up as he thought about getting Trixie in a secluded corner on the terrace. "Okay, baby," he acquiesced. "Let's roll." He got out of the car and came over to take Trixie's arm to escort her inside.
Just before they got to the door, Trixie spotted Sparky and Janine pulling in the parking lot in Sparky's GTO. She waved at them and then tapped Speed's shoulder to get his attention. "Oh Speed, they just got here, let's wait for them."
"Sure." He stopped and turned toward the parking lot just as Sparky and Janine Trotter walked around the corner and joined them.
"Hi Speed, hi Trixie," Sparky greeted his friends as Janine smiled and waved.
"Thanks for waiting for us."
"Oh, don't mention it. We just got here ourselves, didn't we, Speed?" Trixie said cheerfully.
"Uh-huh. Let's head in, okay?" Speed said taking Trixie's elbow and leading the group into the club. Trixie turned and glanced at the other couple shrugging her slender shoulders as she followed him in.
Once inside and seated the two couples were side by side and shared easy conversation that lightened Speed's mood, especially when the dance floor opened and the soft dance music filled the air. As they made their dinner orders and were waiting for the food, both couples ventured onto the dance floor.
Speed put his arms around Trixie's waist and led her in a slow dance to Barbara Mason's "Are You Ready?" His eyes closed as he laid his head on her perfumed shoulder and allowed himself to be drawn into the music. Speed was filled with the warm feeling of his future wife in his arms, momentarily putting his brooding about his missing brother aside. He felt the heat in his body slowly rise as he savored the feel of Trixie's silky skin and the satin smoothness of her pale yellow dinner dress beneath his hands.
"Oh, Speed, look!" Trixie whispered.
"Huh?" Speed felt as if someone yanked him out of a pleasant dream.
"Over there." She gestured with a toss of her head. "Looks like Sparky and Janine are getting along quite well."
Speed lifted his head from her shoulder and glanced in the direction she was speaking of. Sparky and Janine were swaying slowly in each other's arms, as if they had been together for years.
"Yeah, how about that," he remarked as he resumed his previous position, trying to regain the feelings but the spell had been broken. The dark thoughts about Rex came back with a vengeance and he felt annoyance toward his fiancée begin to form.
Trixie sighed dreamily. "Well, I think it's just terrific. Sparky's such a great guy and Janine's a real doll, I knew they would be happy together."
"Gee Trix, it's only their first date, for crying out loud. Don't have them married yet," Speed said in a slightly impatient tone.
Trixie pulled away and regarded Speed with a puzzled frown on her pretty face. "What is your problem tonight, Speed Racer? You've been acting really strange from the moment you picked me up."
Speed sighed and apologized. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm just not up to this tonight." He took her hand and led her off the dance floor and back to the table. They sat in strained silence for several minutes, both staring ahead with their arms crossed as the atmosphere between them became more uncomfortable. Finally Speed broke the silence.
"Look, I need some air. I'll be back in a few, okay?" He took off before Trixie could say any thing in protest.
"Well excuse me!" Trixie huffed as the music ended and Sparky and Janine joined her at the table.
Sparky glanced about. "So where's the happy groom-to-be?"
Trixie sniffed, "I don't know and frankly at the moment, I don't care." She got to her feet and grabbed her evening bag. "C'mon Janine, let's go to the ladies room."
"Hey, I didn't do anything!" Sparky protested but Janine just shrugged and followed Trixie.
"I'll be right back," she assured him.
Sparky sighed and wondered what exactly was causing the trouble in paradise between Speed and Trixie. He saw the waiter bringing the food orders to the table with a peculiar look on his face. "Search me, pal," he said in response to the unspoken question.
In the ladies room, Trixie was agitatedly brushing her chestnut locks while saying angrily, "I just hate it when he gets like this. He takes me out then goes off into some of the far reaches of his mind and totally forgets that I'm even with him. Then he gets sore at me for something and puts me in the deep freeze! Ohh!"
Janine patted her on the shoulder comfortingly. "Take it easy, Trixie. I'm sure that Speed'll tell you whatever's bugging him when he's ready. You know how men are."
Trixie sighed, "You're right, Janine but I wish he'd just feel like he can talk to me. I'm gonna be his wife, for goodness sake, and we've been together for three years. It hurts when he shuts me out like he does."
"Have you told him how you feel?"
Trixie nodded, "Uh-huh. And believe it or not, he's gotten better about it recently since we've gotten engaged. But there still are times when he just closes himself off from me and especially when he starts brooding about his brother Rex."
"Rex left his home when Speed was just a kid, huh?" Janine asked.
"Yeah. Speed was devastated by it and never really got over it. The other night I was at the house and Mom Racer brought out all the family photo albums. When she was showing me the pictures of the boys Speed went off into another world and after she told me the story of Rex leaving, he broke down and cried on my shoulder. My poor, poor baby," Trixie lamented as tears flowed from her sea green eyes.
Janine smiled and she commented, "Speaking of which, I'm sure he's back at the table now and wondering where you are. Why don't we head back there?"
Trixie sniffled, "You go on ahead. I have some repair work to do." She fished a tissue from her bag with a tube of lipstick and her compact.
"Okay. See you at the table."
Back there, Speed had yet to return so Sparky went in search of his friend. He was about to give up when he saw Speed leaning on the far part of the terrace, staring out at the moonlight reflecting on the mirror surface of the pond. He strolled over to him.
"So here you are. I was about to get a posse together to find you."
Speed grunted, "Humph. So did you ditch the girls?"
"Now why would I ditch a girl I was on a first date with? And a living doll like Janine to boot? Actually, the girls ditched me."
Speed's eyes widened with concern and he whirled around. "Did Trixie cut out on me? Not that I would blame her if she did." He glanced back into the club but Sparky laid a restraining arm on him.
"Relax, Speed. She and Janine just went to the ladies room."
Speed eased up and turned his attention back to the pond. Slamming his hand on the rail he muttered, "I'm really making a mess out of this evening aren't I?"
Sparky smirked, "Well, I have had better first dates. So fess up, pal, what's eating you?"
Speed sighed, "I just can't get Rex out of my mind, Spark. I'm getting married in about a month and my big brother isn't gonna be there. It's bugging the hell out of me."
"Rex has been gone a long time, Speed," Sparky pointed out
"Yeah, I know. But when Mom showed Trixie all of the family pictures the other night, it all came back to me. Rex was my hero when I was a kid and I can't help wanting him to be with me when I marry the girl of my dreams."
"Speaking of the girl of your dreams, you'd better find a way to make it up to her."
Speed bit his lips. "She's really pissed at me, huh?"
Sparky nodded, "She definitely was hot under the collar when she corralled my date into going to the ladies room with her."
Speed turned quickly. "Then I better get over there to smooth things over." He started to leave but Sparky stopped him as they heard the soft dance music again commence.
"Wait out here, I have an idea." He headed into the club with Speed gazing after him quizzically.
Sparky made his way back into the club and ran into Janine coming out of the ladies room alone. "Hi, Janine. Where's Trixie?"
"She's still in there." She gestured to the ladies room just as the door opened and Trixie appeared looking a bit forlorn. She pasted an apologetic smile on her face as she came over to Sparky and Janine.
"I'm so sorry, guys. Between me and Speed we've kind of put a damper on the evening," she admitted sheepishly. She glanced at the empty table with the four untouched dinners and sighed.
"Don't worry about it, Trix," Sparky reassured her. "Speed's out on the terrace so why don't you go out there?" He turned to Janine and made a courtier's bow and offered his hand. "May I have this dance?"
She giggled and took it. "Lead the way, kind sir." They headed for the crowded dance floor.
Trixie watched them with a smile and then her smile faded as she contemplated her next move. She sighed and squared her shoulders, then headed to the terrace.
Out there Speed had resumed his musings only now he was trying to figure a way to talk to Trixie. One thing he knew was when she was mad she could freeze him out quicker than a winter cold front. He sighed again as he watched the moon peek in and out of the clouds Well, Speedy this is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into.
He then picked up the soft scent of familiar floral perfume wafting to his nostrils on the breeze. He turned around and saw the lovely piquant face and luminous green eyes that had held his thoughts and dreams captive for the last three years.
"Hi Speed," Trixie's husky dulcet voice whispered.
Speed smiled slowly. "Hi, Trix," he answered softly.
She joined him as he leaned on the rail of the terrace. "It's really a pretty night, isn't it?"
He gazed over at her. "Uh-huh. But it pales beside you, you look breathtaking."
Trixie smiled, "You're very sweet. So," she added, "Penny for your thoughts."
"You'd be overpaying me, they're not worth that much," Speed countered. He reached for Trixie's left hand and laced his fingers with hers, gazing at the diamond of her ring winking at him.
Trixie took a deep breath. "I wish that you'd trust me, Speed," she said shyly lowering her head.
"I do trust you, Trix. There isn't anybody else I trust more." Speed said fervently.
"Then why haven't you talked to me about what's bothering you? Don't you know that when you're hurting, I hurt too?" her voice was pleading with him.
Speed sighed, "It's just the same thing again."
Trixie nodded, "Rex." Speed nodded back, staring off into the distance. She began, "I knew that what your mom did the other night had upset you but I didn't realize how much."
"Maybe I'm just making a big thing out of it. But, Trixie, I can't help it. Rex was like an idol to me and I can't help wanting him by my side when I make you my wife. It's gonna be the greatest moment of my life."
Trixie smiled lovingly at him. "It's going to be the greatest moment of mine too."
Speed took Trixie's left hand that he was holding and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. "Thank you, baby. For always being here for me." He held her hand to his cheek, rubbing the back of her hand over and over it.
She tittered as she felt the scraping of his beard stubble against her hand. "You forgot to shave before you came out to get me, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess. Sorry."
Trixie smiled seductively. "That's okay. I like my men rugged." She reached and planted a butterfly kiss on his cheek. But like setting a tiny flame to dry tinder, that small action kindled the fires in his body as passion rushed through him like a blaze.
With a soft groan Speed released Trixie's hand and cupped her face to gently tease her lips with his. His mouth became warm and insistent as he savored her sweet surrender, her arms snaking under his arms and her hands kneading his back.
After several minutes of breathless passion between them, they drew apart, both pairs of sea green and sapphire blue eyes glazed with emotion.
The Delfonics "La La Means I Love You" was drifting out to the terrace from the club inside. Speed spoke first in a hoarse voice. "I believe I owe you a dance." He took Trixie and wrapped his arms around her slender waist and leaned down, burying his head in her silky shoulder as they moved sinuously with the music.
Back in the club at the door both Janine and Sparky observed the tender interlude between Speed and Trixie and exchanged knowing glances. Sparky took Janine's hand and went back to the table where the waiter stood dumbfounded at the four cold uneaten plates. He handed the check to Sparky.
Sparky reached in his back pocket for his wallet. He took out two twenty-dollar bills and gave them to the speechless man. "Here you go, buddy. Keep the change and wrap these all up into doggie bags, will ya."
"Yes, sir," the waiter answered as he left.
Janine looked at Sparky and asked, "What should we do, Sparky?"
Sparky smirked, "Wait till the doggie bags get here then split."
"But what about Speed and Trixie?"
Sparky grinned, "Oh they'll be just fine, trust me." The waiter returned with the doggie bags and Sparky handed one to Janine and he took one. The remaining two were left on the table and Sparky borrowed a pen from the waiter to scribble a short note.
Speed & Trixie,
Me and Janine decided to continue our date alone. We
figured you wouldn't mind if we split. We'll see you.
Later--S
About 3000 miles across the Atlantic Ocean in a bleak field somewhere in the Bavarian hills, in an abandoned WWII era AXIS underground bunker, a meeting was taking place that would set the stage for the completion of the greatest jewel theft in the annals of modern history. The Hidden International Spies Syndicate or HISS as they were commonly known were hard at work making plans to smuggle the Rubicon I, the largest natural pink diamond out of Europe and to the U.S. for sale to the highest bidder at a private auction in Beverly Hills at the end of June.
The leader of HISS, Sergei Badenov was seated at the front of a small chamber resembling a classroom, with a chalkboard. He had his minions surrounding him, like an international rogues' gallery, a who's who of the underworld. There was Sandpaper Fingers, the top safecracker in the western world, Houdini Masque, a master in disguises, Felina Leone, cat burglar extrordinaire, and Eval Harte, a smuggler so renown that he had the nickname "Oil" because he had smuggled opium over the Turkish border so many times without getting caught and thrown in prison the tough border guards felt he was as slippery as an oil slick. And last but not least, there was Pace Jordan who was known as one of the fastest Formula 1 drivers and when he wasn't racing, a top-notch runner of stolen goods.
Badenov stood and addressed the group before him. "My friends, I want to commend you. Through the concentrated efforts of your …talents we have possession of one of the greatest treasures that the earth has given us…the Rubicon I!" As a flourish to his announcement, he held up the gem before the criminals seated in the room.
"Magnificent!" Harte gushed obsequiously, his beady rodent eyes focused on the jewel.
"Oh indeed," Masque added, licking his lips in anticipation of the cash that sale of the jewel will net them all. Each share promised to be a king's ransom for each member of the unholy alliance.
"Exquisite. I can imagine how it will look polished and set. Absolutely breathtaking," Felina purred, her amber cats eyes sparkling in feral glee.
"Yes, my dear. And may I say that the work you did in acquiring this was the coupe de gras. A job very well done." Badenov simpered as he took her hand and kissed it. Felina tittered like a schoolgirl.
Badenov continued, "Now that I have bestowed the just accolades for the acquisition of this treasure, we must move to the next phase, the ditching of it." He stopped before Pace who was sitting there with a somewhat bored expression on his face. "Pace you are entered in the Mont Royale Grand Prix, yes?"
Jordan nodded, "Yes."
"Good. That is the time that we will move the jewel across the border of Sylvania and then across the pond to the States in time for the auction. With what we shall get for the jewel we should be able to retire to whatever lavish country villa of our choice."
"I have a question," Sandpaper Fingers spoke up.
"Good to see you're still among us. You were awfully quiet sitting there, I thought you were sleeping," Harte remarked scoffingly.
Sandpaper's icy blue eyes narrowed. "I happen to be a firm believer in the axiom 'silence is golden'. A rule that others would be well served to emulate." He eyed Harte meaningfully.
"That's enough quibbling! Sandpaper, your question?"
Sandpaper continued, "I can't help but wonder what you intend to do about the border guards. Unless you plan to murder them in cold blood, they shall be a problem."
Badenov smiled onerously. "I plan to redirect them. The day of the Grand Prix is the final cap off of a week celebrating the re-election of Rudolph Gabriele, the President of Mont Royale. Since the race and celebrations will distract the entire military of the commonwealth, it will be an ideal time. But just to make sure, His Excellency will meet with a very tragic accident. Due to the limited manpower that will open the border because the guards will be called to the palace immediately."
Everyone nodded and murmured as they digested the plan. Badenov's smile faded as his explanation continued, "But, there is one fly in the ointment, a very persistent and troublesome fly, the IPF and especially Agent 9."
At the mention of Agent 9, the room became hushed. Each criminal had had their dealings with Agent 9 in the past and they all were reluctant for a repeat performance. The man was tireless and relentless in his work and they all had borne the brunt of his tenacity at one time or another.
Badenov again pasted an evil smile on his sharp features. "My friends, as with all pests, this fly will be exterminated. Pace, he will be entered in the Grand Prix with you. He is known in racing circles as Racer X." He passed out a document to all in the room with a very brief summary on Racer X. He examined Jordan carefully. "I'm trusting that you'll take care of our dear friend, Agent 9?"
Jordan studied the document. Everybody knew that Racer X was one of the best and most elusive drivers in Formula 1 next to the wonderkid Speed Racer and it had become a challenge for any racer worth his salt to try to beat them. To eliminate Racer X would be a pinnacle in his career. And accidents in racing, especially fatal ones are commonplace. A slow malevolent smile spread on his features.
"Leave it to me," he assured Badenov.TO BE CONTINUED—THE DATES FOR THE RACE AND THE JOYFUL EVENT ARRIVE—BUT THE QUESTIONS CONCERNING REX CONTINUE AS SPEED PREPARES FOR BOTH
NEXT . . .WHEN EVENTS COLLIDE