A/N: A follow-up to the 1964 movie "The Great Race".
Fate Accompli
"Are you sure you won't go with us?" Maggie Galant asked the bald, mustachioed man who stood beside the car.
Hezekiah Sturdy shook his head vigorously. "No way. You were hard enough to get along with when you were just Maggie Dubois, roving reporter for the New York Sentinel" he said good-naturedly. "Now that you've married Leslie, I don't want to be anywhere near your honeymoon squabbles." Maggie giggled and kissed him on the cheek goodbye.
Leslie Galant III, known by most as simply "The Great Leslie", leaned over from where he was standing behind the wheel of the special motorcar built by the Webber Motor Car Company. "Nonsense! Maggie is an emancipated woman and I am an emancipated man; we share a common appreciation of our positions with each other and with life. Any arguments we have will be of a minor nature. I really would like to have you along, Hezekiah."
The colored streamers were still floating through the air, festooning the man's bald head. "I'll check in with you from time to time to make sure you're doing okay along the route back to New York; we know the car can do it, as long as Professor Fate doesn't sabotage you."
Next to the Leslie Special sat a black, six-wheeled vehicle called the Hannibal Twin-8. At the controls was the aforementioned Professor Phineas Fate. Having heard his name, he turned and gave his best sneer at his rival. "I only won the last race because you LET me" he growled, too low to be heard over the crowd. "This time I'll win MY way. Won't I, Max?" he asked as he turned to the seat beside him.
His assistant Maximillian Meen, who had been polishing a few control knobs, looked at his boss. "You talking to me?"
"WHO ELSE WOULD I BE TALKING TO?" Fate yelled.
"You always yell in the morning" Max commented. "Don't worry, I won't take it personal. With our special modifications we can't lose." The car had already proven that the smoke screen, scissor lift, fog heater and cannon had all worked - any snafu that occurred had to do with timing, not the actual engineering. In the time between the finish of the first race from New York to Paris and the rematch from Paris back to New York, Fate had added a few new inventions to his automobile. Max continued "Besides, you said Leslie would lose thanks to that woman and you were right. Now that she's with him from the start he's gonna lose again."
"He will most definitely lose, Max. Before, he had to devote all of his energy using his charms to overcome her charms. Now that they are a couple, the distraction will be exponentially greater - because now it will be a partnership, and all partners have to have meetings and discussions and debate to choose a course of action while the dictatorship of the Hannibal will provide clear, genus-inspired decisions that will lead to victory."
"Yeah, genus. And if that's not enough, we'll sabotage him and then we can be as stupid as we want. Yeah" Max gloated, basking in the thought.
Fate considered starting the sabotage early by leaving Max behind, but thought better of it only because even a genus had to sleep sometimes. And Max HAD helped rescue him from Baron Rolfe von Stuppe's plan to use him to replace his spitting image, the Crown Prince Friedrich Hapnick of the Kingdom of Carpania. Well, Max AND Leslie that is. Oh how it galled him to admit that he owed at least a part of his freedom to a do-gooder like Leslie. He glanced over again and caught just a glint of sunlight reflected off the man's smile. Disgusted, he turned away.
The crowd cleared a way in front of them and the starter raised his gun in anticipation of the start. Both contestants fired up their vehicles and sat poised; at the report of the starter's gunshot Leslie and Maggie roared off down the road to the cheering of the crowd. Fate waited, and attempted to twirl his mustache only to find that it was still shortened from when Max had broken off the frozen ends in Alaska. He growled momentarily, but the growl turned into a laugh as he watched the Leslie Special speed ahead with a 'Just Married' sign mounted on the rear spare wheel. Max implored the Professor to go, but the Fate waited. When he gauged the time was right, he pulled a lever and spoke.
"Push the button, Max!"
Max pushed the button, and the cannon in the front of the vehicle boomed at the same instant a distant Leslie swerved to the left to avoid a pothole. The cannonball shot past his vehicle and into the base of the Eiffel Tower. The structure started to collapse after Leslie sped past unaware of the calamity behind him.
"Boss! You missed!" Max called out as Fate jammed the car into gear and sped off.
"What do you mean me? You pushed the button" the professor said in rebuttal, shifting the blame away from himself as he hurried to outrun the angry mob that was forming at the starting line. Soon they were on the straight road out of Paris and heading toward the kingdom of Carpania; Fate pushed his vehicle to the limit to overtake Leslie, who set a more conservative pace for the long journey ahead. Honking his horn, the Hannibal Twin-8 squeezed by the Leslie Special and opened up some distance over its rival.
"Max, it's time to nail down our lead" Fate cackled.
"Right Professor!" Max reached for one of the many levers and pulled it down. A box on the front bumper slid open, and a mound of nails and industrial tacks tumbled out and onto the road. There was an immediate double "Pop" and both right rear wheels immediately went flat, shaking the car.
Fate jabbed the brakes and ground the vehicle to a halt before glaring at Max. "Max?" he asked with a voice that resonated thickly like bitter syrup.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Where did you put the box of nails?"
"Well, there wasn't room on the back with the spares so I...uh...put it on the front."
"As in front of our wheels too?"
"Well...yeah...now that you mention it." Max grimaced as Fate took off his top hat and hit him, crushing his Fedora. Grumbling, he got out of the car and went about changing the flat tires while Leslie sped past once again. The professor remained in his sour mood until he regained the lead while Leslie was stopped so that Maggie could set up and take a picture of a road marker with her new camera.
"You see Max? Once again a woman is a secret weapon against one's opponent; neither one realizes that she is slowing him down."
"Yeah, ha ha" Max agreed, "ain't it the truth Professor. Where do you think she gets her film developed?"
...
As the Hannibal Twin-8 neared Potsdorf, Fate made out some disturbance ahead on the tree-lined road. As he got closer, he slowed as several men waved their arms as they stood in the middle of the thoroughfare. A tree trunk lay across the road where it had apparently fallen, and several workmen and carriages were off to the side. The professor pulled to a halt as one of the men came to his window.
"I'm sorry sir, there will be a slight delay while we clear the road" the man informed them.
"That's okay, I'll just go around" Fate said, not wanting to squander the lead he had.
Outside the other window, another man produced a long rifle and shoved it into the cab of the vehicle, the bayonet just inches from Max's nose as it was pointed straight at Fate. With a sigh he resigned himself to the situation. "I, ah, guess we'll wait." The man with rifle motioned for the two to get out of the car by order of the crown; Fate considered activating his new ejector seat timer but decided against it; he didn't know if his life was in jeopardy or not. He watched as another man jumped into the vehicle, backed up, and drove off around the tree. He and Max were ordered into a carriage and with little explanation followed behind his car as it continued down the road.
The carriage entered the town and immediately turned down a side street before pulling up in front of a low building. With a wave of the rifle Fate and Max got out of the carriage and entered through the heavy door. Inside, the room was sparsely furnished with at least a third in shadow due to a lack of windows. A resounding 'thunk' indicated that the door was closed behind them, with their escorts staying outside.
"You'll forgive the less than lavish reception," a voice spoke from the shadows "I would have welcomed you in much more style if my plan had worked out the first time." With a creak Baron Rolfe von Stuppe rolled out of the dark in a wheeled chair. "You'll also forgive me from rising to great you - I suffered a little accident during my getaway from the Great Leslie. I'm stuck in this infernal chair now whenever I need to get around." Despite his opinion of the appliance, he maneuvered it expertly across the room to come closer to the new arrivals.
"I didn't have any part it that" Fate said, pointing a finger. "I kept my part of the bargain until YOU failed."
"Come now professor, let's not cast blame on something that is clearly in the past. And since you are forcibly my guest here, you would do best to listen."
"I take it you have another plan to replace the King with me again? Then have me abdicate to leave you as regent while I continue on my merry way. I imagine he has a lot more protection around him now."
"He may have," Rolfe said as he shrugged "or he might not. Quite frankly, no one seems to have seen him in the last three days."
"Three days? You just don't lose a King, Baron. Maybe he's gone on a trip or something."
"His coach is still here, and there have been no travelling parties leaving the castle in the last week. Something is up, but I don't know what" Rolfe said as he rolled his chair back and forward a few times.
"You've got a man in the castle, don't you?" Max asked.
"A few, actually. But they don't know anything either. The King's physician says he's 'resting'; I could understand if he was passed out from drinking, but even he wouldn't be able to be that way for three days. I must find out what is going on before I can form a successful plan. In the meantime, you two will be my guest while I work out something. News of your return race has already spread through the kingdom, so if someone spots you or your car it wouldn't be suspicious."
"What about Leslie?"
The Baron glowered. "What about him?" he asked, fingering a fresh pink scar on his right cheek.
"He's behind us. He'll catch on and alert the authorities" Max boasted, hating to admit that the man might save the day again.
"Oh, he'll get caught the same way you did. I imagine he'll be joining us soon enough" Rolfe said as he wheeled over to the door and gave a knock. Two burly guards came in and hustled over to a large chest on the floor. With a grunt they managed to slide it to one side, revealing a door in the floor. "In the meantime, you can rest in my guest suite. I'm afraid we're out of fresh towels, but just think of the service you're doing for MY country."
With a wave of his hand Rolfe indicated that he wanted the two to descend through the opening; Max started to lead the way but Fate held him back and took the lead himself without a word. Together they walked down the dark flight of stairs to the cellar below.