"Just come along quietly and there won't be no trouble," Sheriff said in a stern tone. "Just until we clear things up."
Chick sat at the edge of the road on a fresh set of tires, clearly not in the mood for a lecture. Several out of towners drove past Luigi's storefront, eyeing the racecar and officer. Chick contemplated his options. He didn't like any of them.
"I swear, officer, come on," Chick decided to take the safer, albeit more embarrassing route by way of an unbelievable excuse that would at most buy him more time. "I don't know anything about any gunshots. I slipped off that poor excuse of a track and into the cactus. Shredded my tires like a moron. End of story. That was probably the noise you heard."
"We ain't as dumb as you think we are," Sheriff muttered with a glowering edge to his voice.
"If you're innocent, nothin' lost to you, right?" Doc asked, arriving and backing his longtime friend.
Chick muttered something under his breath. He looked around. If he gunned it back toward the interstate, he'd be home free in moments, or at least, out of the grasp of this stubborn old police cruiser. But he knew he'd never really make it that far. He knew he wasn't ever truly alone. One wrong move and he knew he'd lose the only thing he ever had control over – himself.
What if - ? He had an idea. He knew they'd never trust him, not when they had that hotshot rookie they cared so much about. But how much did they really care?
"Alright, you got me," Chick shrugged placidly. "Was just trying to do this little po-dunk town a favor."
"Is that so?" Sheriff wasn't having it.
Sally noticed the fuss before she turned the corner in front of the courthouse. She slowed and came to a hesitant halt next to Stanley's statue. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move.
Parked in the dark shadows of the depths of the courthouse, Red sat quivering. Sally turned to look at her quiet friend. For the first time since she'd rolled into town, she saw him express something other than his usual content joy or troubled sadness. Red looked furious.
"Red?" Sally asked, driving into the courthouse bay. "Red, what's wrong?"
His expression faltered into something more concerned for a moment as she approached him. Sally stopped. That wasn't just anger. That was a look of fear. If there was one thing about Red that she knew for a fact, it was that underneath his soft, loving surface he was absolutely fearless.
He pointed toward the crowd of cars in the middle of town. Sally looked closer. Doc and Sheriff had Hicks cornered in front of Luigi's store. The two Italians hovered watchfully in the doorway of their business, clearly bothered. Across the street, Ramone eyed the situation doubtfully. Ahead on down the street, Sarge paced up and down his lawn, openly armed and never letting his eyes drift from the scene. Everyone else simply looked worried.
"What'd I miss?" Sally asked Red again. "What's going on over there?"
Red just pointed toward Chick again.
"Hmm. Alright," she concluded. "I'm gonna go check it out."
Red lurched forward as though to block her from leaving. Startled, Sally stopped. Red shook himself and let out a small whimpering noise. Don't go. He clearly knew something she didn't.
"Look, Red," Sally gestured outside, "you could cut that tension with a knife. I gotta make sure the town stays a friendly, welcoming place for travelers. Right now? That stand-off's not very inviting."
Red looked past her and scowled again. Sally turned to go investigate. He followed her closely.
At first, she skirted the crowd and stopped off at Flo's. As a lawyer, Sally knew better than to enter into anything without information at her disposal. Once she had that, she could do anything.
"Hey there, Mater," she greeted the forlorn tow truck gently. "What's all the fuss?"
Mater looked up at her and bit his lip. His frazzled mind couldn't stop thinking about how rattled his best friend had been earlier. Usually quick to speak, Mater had to stop and think about his answer. He still wasn't sure what the deal was.
"McQueen's in trouble, Miss Sally," he said quietly.
"Okay," she replied cautiously, looking for any behavioral hints that would clue her into a deeper meaning. "That's not necessarily new. What kind of trouble?"
Mater opened his mouth to answer, but Flo came around from the V8's kitchen and interrupted. Sally had never seen Flo look so serious.
"Hey there, sugar, where you been?" she asked.
Sally furrowed her brow, anxious at the tension in Flo's voice. "Uh, just took a drive. Like usual. Went to check out Taillight Caverns this morning. Preparing for this year's – "
The familiar roar of a racing engine faded in across the desert, catching Sally's full attention. Hadn't her Stickers been out at the track earlier? What was he doing coming from out toward Wheel Well?
"There's been an incident," Flo whispered. "We all heard gunfire this mornin'. Lightnin' came drivin' into town like a maniac claimin' that poor excuse for a racer over there tried to kill him. Then he took off again."
"What?" Sally asked, alarmed. Surely she hadn't heard Flo right. Had she?
"Yeah, and on top of that," Mater added on, "there was this flyin' thing in the sky earlier that Sarge said was a fighter for that Detroit War a long time ago."
"Mm hm," Flo agreed. "We don't know anything except that Buick over there's actin' awful suspicious. Rolled into town a bit ago, no tires and burn marks all over him."
Sally turned to look at the cornered racer. The moment Chick rolled into town a red flag had started waving around her conscience. Even from across the intersection, she could see he was trying to talk his way out of something. Lucky for him, she knew exactly how to talk her way in to anything.
"Hmm," Sally frowned. "Alright then. Let's see how well he stands up to the law."
"Wait, hun, I don't think – "
She had already driven away.
In the air once again, Strip kept an eye on Lightning as he hurtled down the road toward the town. Watching the kid take those corners like he was, one would think he had a record to beat.
Static crackled to life. A long-lost radio connection solidified itself once more.
"Look who finally decided to show up," Strip said, turning toward the inbound flier.
"You could have told me! You know, a heads-up or something. Anything," Izzy replied. "How was I supposed to know you'd taken off on your own? You leave it to your wife to call me? You're a terrible husband."
"Lynda called you?"
"Of course she did! How else would I know you were out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"Is she alright?"
"Worried as heck, but yeah, I guess she's fine. You owe her an apology when we're done here, though. Taking off like you did."
"Wait, but she – "
Strip realized that his farewell pep talk hadn't been entirely as transparent as he'd thought. He'd been too preoccupied to see it at the time, but Lynda had told him what he needed to hear for his own sake, not what she really felt. He should have known better. He knew her too well.
"Yeah, alright," he sighed. "I'll add that to my list of things to make up for."
"So fill me in on what I missed," Izzy ordered as she joined him, circling wide, high above the town.
"Well, Hicks tried to kill the kid this mornin'," Strip informed her. "I got him out of that one. Told him what was goin' on. I think he's takin' it pretty well, all things considered. I told him he needs to lure Chick out of town so we can do somethin' about him. That's what he's doin' now."
"Hmm, alright," she approved, watching the red racer hurtle toward the meager town below. "Guess he's not as useless as I thought. When in doubt, use him as bait. Not bad."
"We need a plan, Izzy," Strip told her, feeling the urgency of the situation set in. "I only got as far as to how to get Hicks out of town. I don't know what to do after that."
"We kill him," she replied shortly, as though the answer were obvious. "We've waited over thirty years for this, Strip. We end this thing today."
Strip held his silence. Thirty-five years ago, he wouldn't have argued. Back then, that was all he knew. Winning meant freedom. Now? Now, all winning meant was that someone else had to lose.
"Come on," he said, beginning into a descent toward the town. "He's almost there. We need to be close enough to intervene if somethin' happens."
Izzy followed.
The steady stream of visitors parted, making way as Lightning rolled into town. He didn't pay them any mind. He couldn't. It took every last bit of mental bandwidth he had to keep himself together.
Just play it cool, Lightning. He doesn't know you know. Well, he might. He'll know the minute I approach him, oh for the love of –
"McQueen! There you are, I've been lookin' all over for you."
Chick's voice cut through the small crowd that had collected at the intersection. Everyone turned to look at Lightning. He hesitated as the townsfolk greeted him with a strange array of emotion. Some were scared, others suspicious, and yet others seemed angry. Right there in the middle of it all, Chick sat relaxed and smug. Sally glared at him, clearly annoyed.
"Stickers, what on earth is going on?" she prompted.
He felt a wave of relief wash over him. She was okay. It didn't matter how or why she'd eluded him earlier. She was fine.
But she was also parked the closest to Chick. Lightning pushed forward. If there was any one thing he loved more than his own life, it was hers. He refused to put that in danger.
"I was hoping to get some answers myself," he said in as confident of a voice as he could muster.
Chick observed as Lightning parked between him and that annoyingly clever Porsche. Oh, what he would have done to know McQueen's preference for her beforehand.
"Surprised you came back, kid," Chick sounded impressed.
"Is there something we should know?" Sally asked her boyfriend. "This guy keeps rambling on about conspiracy theories and how you're a danger to the town."
"Yeah, well, I think my friend Chick here's just a little disoriented from his big win," Lightning shrugged. "Thinks he's some hot shot legend now or something. Ain't that right, Chick?"
Chick looked as puzzled as those around him. What was McQueen up to? For once, he didn't have anything to say in return. Did Lightning really think he could beat him at his own game?
The townsfolk looked to McQueen for answers. It seemed like just minutes ago, he was falling all over himself, scared witless. Hadn't he just told them that Chick tried to murder him? Yet here he was, suave and composed as ever, insulting the Buick to his face.
Lightning continued. "But he knows he didn't win fair and square. And that bothers you, doesn't it, Chick? It burns you to know you're not good enough to beat me. If you can't beat the competition, eliminate it, right? Or at least everything they love."
Lightning what the heck are you doing? This is not you. You are not equipped to handle this. He is going to kill you in the middle of your hometown. You're an idiot. You should turn and run.
But you need to protect them. They trust you. You need that.
"Stickers, you're not making any sense," Sally added, feeling her faith in his competence decline. "Why make such a big fuss over a race? It's over. It's not a big deal. Certainly not big enough to kill over."
"Well, I guess that's part of it," Chick admitted. "Why not kill two birds with one stone?"
Chick looked around. This was not going according to plan. He should have been leaving, hightailing his way back to Detroit right then having successfully completed his mission, not surrounded by angry hillbillies. Did McQueen know who he was? Why else would he come back? Chick looked up at the sky. His confidence wavered.
"I'd be careful with that phrase, Chick," Lightning said as he, too, noticed his backup circling the sky above. "Because I have two birds to back me up, and it's gonna take a whole lot more than a stone to stop them."
He spoke so that only the nearby residents of Radiator Springs could hear him. The truth was out. This wasn't about that tiebreaker race. It couldn't have had less to do with it. This wasn't sport. This was war.
Lightning didn't care if the town knew the truth – or at least what he knew of the truth. He trusted them, but he decided it best that the travelers remain naïve. He didn't want the world to know that he was a key in the Detroit War, and he'd bet money that the King and Chick would agree with him. When it came down to it, all three of them had too much to lose.
Chick's reaction affirmed this. He frowned at the rookie as the others took in the sight of the Chryslers in the sky above them.
"So now you know," Chick deduced. "You know how helpless you are. You don't stand a chance."
Lightning shrugged. "Maybe not, but I don't think my friends up there will take too kindly to you if you decide to do something. And I also think you wouldn't dare do anything in public, either. We're both too high profile for that."
Chick growled in frustration. "They're using you, you know. You can't trust them. They're not of the same manufacture as you. This isn't something we can take sides in."
"Except that we have," Lightning corrected him. "You know about the alliance, plus I consider one of them a real friend. I may not have the weapons you do, but you're alone Chick. No one's gonna come to help you in the end."
A few seconds of silence settled over the crowd as the business of the day carried on behind them. Sally was the first to speak.
"Stickers, is this true?" she whispered to him. "You're talking about the Detroit War, right? You're a part of that? That's impossible. You can't fight."
Hearing the pain in her voice, he turned to address her solemnly.
"I didn't know, Sal," he explained. "Had no idea. They've been keeping me in the dark on purpose, apparently. But it makes sense – this whole situation. Chick's not a good sport by any means, but he wouldn't kill out of his own free will."
They both glanced at Chick. The Buick seemed to be having some sort of internal crisis. He'd look around spastically before settling his attention on himself, angrily baring his teeth. Then he'd do it again, increasingly angrily. Something was wrong.
Sally suddenly felt extremely overprotective of Lightning, and of her town. "I still don't understand how all this came to be. I need more information."
"I was out training this morning," Lightning briefly explained. "Chick came out and pulled a gun. One of the Chrysler guys intervened and got me out. He explained what was going on. GM built me as their stand in and basically hoped I'd stay out of the way until Chrysler and Ford finished each other, I think. But that didn't work. Chrysler's trying to help me."
"How do you know you can trust them?" she asked. "If this is war, you can't trust anyone. It could be a trap!"
Lightning looked up again. The King and his plus one were even closer to the ground than before.
"I can't tell you that, not right now," he said. "But I need you to trust me. I trust them."
Lightning looked to Doc and Sheriff while Chick continued to spaz out. He sighed.
"Look, I know this sounds crazy, but – "
"What can we do to help?" Doc interrupted. "We can't just sit here with you in the line of fire."
Doc hated it. He hated Chick and he hated seeing his mentee scared for his life. Most of all, he hated that the circumstances made sense.
In years past, he'd kept tabs on the scuffle in Detroit. He remembered the tragedy of that November night back in the eighties. He remembered Chrysler's statement, begging for Ford to let them be, and how pathetic it had sounded. What had been even more ludicrous was Ford's response, denying them the right to surrender.
All the while, General Motors had remained dormant. They never responded to the attack on the Renaissance Center. In fact, the first motion GM had made in the war had been the alliance with Chrysler, just earlier that year right before Lightning came onto the scene.
It all made perfect sense and Doc was angry.
Lightning looked at Chick. The green racer glared back at him as he regained whatever composure he'd lost moments before.
"Keep the town running, Doc," Lightning answered. "This isn't your fight."
"It ain't yours either, kid, I – "
"Come on, Chick," Lightning turned his back to his mentor. "You wanna get this over with? Let's go. Settle it like racers. If you can catch me, go ahead and do what you have to."
Chick scoffed, but followed it up with a good chuckle. "Your loss, man. Nice knowin' you."
"Lightning, wait, let's be reasonable and – "
The sound of his engine drowned out Sally's pleading voice as he spun around and headed toward the interstate. Before anyone else could react, Chick followed. Within seconds, they were gone.