Radiator Springs was a decent vacation spot despite its size. It felt nice to spend a couple days at ease, exploring the shops in town, attending the drive-in at night, and milling around the scenic countryside in the daytime. Strip felt every bit as comfortable there as he did in his own hometown. The townsfolk were warm and welcoming, completely down to earth. McQueen had stumbled upon a true gem.
Strip and Lynda spent a few full days there, getting to know McQueen and his newfound friends better. In some ways, it was an excellent start to an extended retirement vacation, but Strip couldn't help but feel his ulterior motive for being there eating away at his conscience. A week and a half had passed since the tiebreaker race and Chick still hadn't shown.
It had taken but half a day for him to say what he needed to say to Lightning, and that hadn't been much. His visit to the town showed his appreciation for Lightning's actions more than words could say. There was little need to mention it further.
The rest of the time Strip kept an eye out for anything suspicious or out of place. There was nothing. The tourists flowed in and out of the town at their leisure. Aside from their quirks, the residents of the town seemed normal, interacting with anyone and everyone freely. There wasn't anything in that town that hinted at the prospects of war in the least, save the surplus shop.
"Maybe you're just lookin' in the wrong place," Lynda told him one night as he voiced his concern. "You never know what Ford's got planned."
"I know. Maybe," Strip sighed. "I just really thought things were gonna start movin', you know? I wanna get this over with so we can enjoy ourselves again. I'm tired of life bein' interrupted."
"Yeah," she agreed quietly, pausing as she thought a little more. "Strip? I have a question."
He looked up at her and found her frowning, deep in thought. "Alright. You know you can ask me anythin', Lyn."
"I believe that you're gonna live through the end of this war, no matter how it turns out," she began, picking her words carefully. "You've survived too much for me to believe otherwise. But it has to end. Rick said it himself – someone has to die. I know you better than anyone does. When it comes down to it, are you gonna do the job? Because I don't think you will."
Strip took a deep breath and faced the facts. He knew himself. He knew the situation. As much as he wanted to end this war – not even win it, just end it – he never saw himself pulling the trigger. Where Izzy wouldn't hesitate to take Chick out, he just couldn't do it, no matter how much he resented the Buick. There'd been enough death already.
Lynda saw the look in his eyes. "Mm-hm. I thought so. What's your plan, then?"
"Protect the kid. I'll do what I have to if it means he stays safe, but no more than that," Strip admitted. "Guess that's not a good way to end this thing, is it?"
"No, but that's what separates you from the others and keeps you from becomin' somethin' you ain't," she said, softening her tone. "I want you to promise me one thing, Strip."
"What is it?"
"You need to protect yourself, too," she reminded him. "When it comes down to it, I need you. Izzy needs you. Heck, I believe Rick does too. And don't get me started on the race fans."
"Okay," he promised. "I don't intend on goin' anywhere, Lyn, I love you. You know that. I'll find a way out."
They left the next evening having called the Dinoco haulers for a lift back home. Driving through the night suited everyone better. There was less traffic for the semis to weave through, and Strip and Lynda got to sleep peacefully while making good time. The sun began to rise as they passed through eastern Oklahoma.
"Stopping off for fuel," Gray announced as they pulled off the interstate toward a truck stop.
Strip yawned and looked out the window. The gas station looked mostly desolate with only a few sleeping trucks parked off in the rest area. It would be a good opportunity to get out and move around a little without being mobbed by lurking fans.
The haulers parked both trailers in the far corner of an isolated lot before driving off to the fuel pumps. Strip lowered the ramp and rolled out into the gray, foggy morning air. It was cool and refreshing.
"Wake up, Lyn," he knocked on the ramp of her trailer. "It's mornin' time."
He heard her shuffle around a little, muttering indistinctly. Somewhere in there, he was certain he heard a "no", but the ramp started to lower regardless. He moved out of the way.
"Want a coffee?" he asked, noticing the diner attached to the station.
Lynda looked at him with a disheveled look and blinked a couple times. She must have been sound asleep.
"Give me a second to wake up," she muttered as she drove down the ramp onto the pavement.
Strip drove around beside her trailer to get a good look at their surroundings. Six commercial haulers were passed out at the other end of the lot, not far from the interstate on ramp. Aside from the occasional early morning traveler passing by, all was silent except for the wind blowing across the flat landscape.
"Brr," Lynda shivered, driving up beside him and leaning against his side. "It's cold out here. Where are we?"
"Almost to Arkansas, I think," he answered absentmindedly. "Makin' good time."
"Come on, let's go get somethin' hot to drink," she gave him a little nudge in the direction of the café.
He started to roll in that direction when a familiar block of color emerged on the horizon, heading their way. He braked and quickly backed into the shadow between the trailers. Alarmed as his sudden movement, Lynda got out of sight as well.
"What is it?" she asked quietly, driving around behind him and looking back toward the road.
"Tell me if I'm seein' things," he responded, gesturing down the road.
Despite his prior wishes for things to start happening, he hoped that it was anything else, like a commercial carrier for a company that advertised heavily in the color green. Even in the dim light and hazy atmosphere, he knew better. A racer's trailer was easy to spot.
"Here's your sign," Lynda commented as Hick's trailer passed the rest stop and continued out west.
Strip grew quiet as he considered what to do. Having the haulers turn around and go back in the direction they'd come would be too suspicious, and not to mention would raise questions he couldn't answer. He couldn't just take off on his own and follow, he stood out like a flashy advertisement on a billboard and his crew would wonder where he went. The current situation made it impossible to disappear.
"Hey, listen," Lynda grabbed his attention, driving around him again to face him straight on. "You know what you need to do."
He looked at her, expecting to find some sort of excuse not to pursue. The last time he'd left her, she'd been a mess. He saw no semblance of that now. She looked every bit as determined and fearless as he knew he should be.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked her, conscious of her past reactions.
"Strip, you promised me the other night you'd be alright," she reminded him. "You've never once broken a promise to me. Except that one time you promised me dinner and a movie and the drive-in was closed when we got there. But that wasn't your fault."
He smiled at the memory. That whole date had been a disaster, and yet some thirty years later they were still together, closer than ever. He had every intention of spending that much longer with her.
"Look, you can get out of here before the fog evaporates," Lynda pointed to the field behind them. "Just go out there until you can't see the road anymore and take off. It'll be fine. I'll be fine."
"Gray's gonna lose his mind if he finds out what's goin' on," Strip said, looking back toward the fuel pumps. "I can't just disappear."
"Yes, you can," Lynda protested. "I'll cover for you. They'll be confused, but they won't find out anythin'. I just want you to get this over with so we can live our lives the way we want. I know you want that, too."
Strip nodded. "Alright. Thanks, Lynda, really."
She rolled her eyes and reached out with her tire to tap him on the fender. "I'm puttin' a lot of faith in this new bulletproof stuff they put in you. Just stay away from any big buildin's this time, will you?"
"Okay."
Lynda placed a gentle kiss on his lips before he turned to leave. It was a language that he understood well, and said more than she could have put into words. As he drove off into the fog, he felt determined that this was it. This was the last time he'd ever have to leave. He'd come back from this and finally, finally get to live a life of peace. Well, as peaceful as a retired racing legend's life could be.
Lynda reentered her trailer as she heard him take to the air in the distance and started sobbing.
Strip circled overhead, high enough to be out of sight, but low enough to make out the cars on the road below. The second the green car carrier took the exit to Route 66, he made a beeline for Radiator Springs. Chick wouldn't ever just stop by and have a friendly visit with the rival that had effectively ruined his image and potentially even his career. Strip had to get there first.
The afternoon burned hot against the desert as Strip touched down on an outcrop, facing east off Cadillac Range. The town bustled below him, active and happy as ever. As far as he could see, hundreds of cars cruised the mother road. Hundreds of cars and a lime green box slowly snaking its way toward civilization.
Out of habit, Strip backed into the shadow of a rock bluff to continue observing. The matte black paint of the bulletproof flight panels was excellent at keeping him hidden in the dark and concealing his identity, but it stood out in high contrast against the light colored stone around him. It was unlikely anyone down below would look up and see him, but he couldn't afford to be careless.
To the left of the town, Lightning and Doc were taking a few laps around the dirt track again. Even from so far away, Strip saw and analyzed every move the legend taught the rookie. He wondered how different his career would have been had he had a mentor like that. He wondered if Lightning knew how lucky he was.
The Hostile Takeover Bank hauler parked right on the edge of town, pulling off the road before passing the racing museum. Chick exited the trailer quickly and came around to say a few words to the semi. Strangely, the truck didn't stick around. He turned the rig around and headed right back the direction they'd come, leaving Hicks sitting alone in the dust.
Suspicious didn't even begin to cover the way Chick acted. He sat in the same place for several long moments – possibly a couple minutes, as tourists of all sorts passed him by. It seemed almost as though he didn't want to be there. Eventually, he drove into town and stopped by Flo's. Strip pulled out his long-range rifle and peered through the scope, ready to intervene in an emergency.
It wasn't needed. Chick sat at the far end of the café alone, ordered a drink, and drank it in silence. The townsfolk eyed him suspiciously, and he glared at them in return. He knew he wasn't welcome.