Chick's weapon fell to the ground harmlessly, sheared from its base with a single well-aimed shot. Izzy shoved it away and fired another shot to detonate the loaded ammunition. The ground tremored as the fireball dissipated to reveal the shattered remnants of the launcher. For a moment, the only sound was the echoes of the explosion off the canyon wall and the hills in the distance.

Then Chick tried to move. Flustered, Izzy snapped her attention back to him. Before the Buick – or whoever was controlling him – could make sense of what happened she whipped out an instrument that looked like a tuning fork and pressed it against his side. He yelled as arcs of electricity passed from the device to his body, but quickly fell silent and still.

Lightning, having taken shelter, peered out from behind Strip's wing. The scent of fresh ozone wafted through the air, reminiscent of an electrical fire.

"Is he dead?" McQueen asked timidly.

"Unfortunately, no," Izzy grumbled, putting the tool away. "But he's not waking up any time soon either."

"Is he really wired?" Strip asked his sister, though he was confident of the answer.

"Hmm." She poked around underneath Chick's exposed paneling with the barrel of her gun. "Yep. Same as what we've seen before. They must have upped the range on their remote guidance system, though. For someone to have control over him way out here? I gotta say, that's impressive."

"So he's not trying to kill me?" Lightning asked. "It's someone else?"

"Well, that time, anyway," Strip answered. "Stephen must have been listening in, figured out he wasn't gonna fight back anymore."

Lightning sat silently for a moment, considering it. Chick's actions finally made sense to him, to a sickening degree. In order to protect himself and prevent being controlled by the Ford CEO, Chick was willing to kill. He didn't necessarily want to, but that seemed the lesser of two evils from his perspective. Chick held a resentment toward Stephen unlike anything he could imagine. Combine that with selfish ambition and anything would be better than handing himself over to the likes of a lunatic again.

"Alright, yeah, so what now?" Izzy asked, turning toward her brother. "You convinced me not to kill him. What do we do with him now?"

Strip shrugged. "Call up one of the corporate jets. Get someone down here to pick us up and take us back. Then we'll see if Rick can't unwire him. We'll figure it out from there."

Izzy sighed and looked at Chick's motionless form with disgust. "I never thought I'd see the day when I didn't pull the trigger. All this time and…"

She looked back to Strip. "Why? Why do you care what happens to him? After everything he's done?"

"I don't," he answered as honestly as he could. "If I'm bein' truthful here, I'd care less how he lives his life. That ain't none of my business. But this, this is bigger than all of us. Whether we like it or not, we're the only ones that can do somethin' about it. I'm just tryin' to do the right thing. That's all."

Izzy looked down at the ground and gave an unconvincing half smile. "You know, sometimes I miss the good ol' days. Everything seemed so black and white back then."

"It'll be over soon," Strip said calmly. "We'll find our way out."

She nodded and looked at Lightning. "You did good, kiddo. Thanks for the help."

"Ah, well," Lightning shrugged it off. "I didn't really do anything."

"You led him out of town and then stayed out of the way," she told him. "That's more than I was hoping for, at least on such short notice. You've had a heck of a day."

"Yeah, but…" he hesitated. "Well, I guess it's not over yet, is it?"

Lightning watched as the Chryslers shared a glance, and second-guessed himself.

"I'm coming too, right? To Detroit?"

Izzy looked to Strip. "Is he?"

Strip thought about it. "I don't know. I don't like the idea of draggin' you up there. We don't know what we're gonna have to deal with. But if we leave you here, we can't keep an eye on you, and that opens up too much room for somethin' bad to happen. What do you wanna do, kid?"

"I want to help," he answered without hesitation. "I have to do something. I won't feel right just staying here while you guys go do all the work."

Lightning looked to his former competitor. "Come on, King, you saved my life. Twice! I owe you."

Strip shook himself. "You don't owe me anythin', Lightnin'. I think we're even now."

While he begged to differ, Lightning didn't argue. He instead tried to think of a better reason to convince them to let him go. But what could he do? He felt like a burden already. Of what more use would he be in Detroit?

"Alright," Izzy said, taking it upon herself to make the executive decision. "You can come. Just do what we tell you, okay? If we get caught up in another fight, we won't have room for error."

"Yes, ma'am," Lightning replied dutifully.

"Well, I guess I'll go see if I can find a signal out here," she stated, backing up to get a better view of their surroundings. "I'll call for a plane. Hopefully there's one relatively close. Keep an eye on this guy, will you? Radio me if he starts to wake up. He shouldn't, but I'm not gonna risk it."

She turned, spooled her engines, and took off for higher elevation. As she faded out of sight, Lightning looked to his elder for guidance.

"So, can I get some answers now?" McQueen asked.

"Yeah," Strip responded, taking a deep breath to try to relax. For the moment, they were safe. "But first, you might wanna go let your friends know you're alright. Let 'em know where you're goin'. We got a long flight back to Michigan. I'll answer your questions then."

Lightning gazed past his company back toward the town. He'd just ran off and left them with half an explanation – the only half of an explanation he still had.

"Yeah, I should do that," he agreed absentmindedly. "But what will I tell them?"

"Tell 'em the truth if you have to," Strip told him. "Just do me a favor and don't mention any names."

Lightning nodded and slowly started to make his way back toward the Mother Road, leaving Strip to silently brood next to Chick's unconscious form.

"Look!" Mater pointed down the road. "There he is!"

Those around him at the café snapped around to look. Sure enough, heading right back into town was their dearest friend.

"He's okay," Sally breathed in relief, rolling forward in anticipation of greeting him.

"Sure doesn't look very happy," Flo commented, squinting.

"He's alive," Doc grunted as he passed them all to go meet the kid. "Count your lucky stars."

Lightning saw his welcoming committee as he rolled into town, led by Doc. They met in front of the medical clinic.

"Well?" Doc asked, driving straight to the point. "That was fast."

Sally pushed her way in front of Doc and scanned the racer for any injuries. Right away, she noticed the scratches on his fenders and down his sides.

"Were you hurt?" she asked, making no effort to conceal her worry.

Lightning glanced around, knowing his presence commanded attention. Travelers were staring at him as they drove past, pointing him out to others who hadn't yet noticed.

"Come on." Lightning nodded toward Doc's garage. "Let's go talk over there. Not so public."

Doc, Sally, Mater, and Sheriff followed him silently behind the garage and out of sight of the road. When he turned to face them again, he couldn't help but feel guilty for driving off like he did earlier. Sally looked worried to death, Mater seemed too scared to say anything, and Doc and Sheriff both seemed borderline cross with concern.

"Well, bud?" Mater asked when Lightning didn't speak immediately.

"Um, well," Lightning looked down at his hood and tried to gather his thoughts. They made sense to him, but he wasn't quite sure how to put it into words. "I guess first of all, I'm fine."

"Awful scratched up there, Stickers," Sally pointed out. "We could hear everything. Didn't sound very 'fine' to me."

"We've been tellin' visitors that there's a war reenactment goin' on over there," Sheriff said. "Tryin' to keep curiosity at bay. Kinda hard to do when the ground's shakin'."

Lightning nodded. "Thanks. Thanks for covering. No, really, I'm okay. I'm not hurt, it was just…"

He tried to think of the words to explain the fight. It had all happened so quickly. It had been so completely real and dangerous. He'd only gotten scratches. It wasn't fair. Not too far away the King was burnt, dented, and probably damaged worse than he realized. Chick was lying on the ground unconscious.

And he only got scratched.

"It wasn't pretty," he finally managed to say.

"Hicks? What happened to him?" Doc asked.

"They knocked him out," Lightning answered. "They… they didn't kill him. One wanted to. The other talked them out of it. It's kind of hard to explain. But no one died."

"They want someone to go do the job for them?" Doc mumbled, looking out toward where he last heard the fighting.

"No, no, it's fine. It's gonna be fine." Lightning said, subconsciously consoling himself. "He, uh, well, let's just say he wasn't operating under his own will, necessarily. We're gonna try to fix it."

"'We'?" Sheriff asked.

"Me and the Chryslers," Lightning explained. "We're gonna try to figure out how to end this thing without anyone… you know…"

"Them ain't the rules, kid," Doc warned. "Listen, us older cars remember what happened, before you were ever made. Everyone knows what the stakes are. Last car standin' wins. That's all there is to it. I wouldn't be so trusting."

"Yeah, that sounds pretty fishy to me, too," Sally offered. "From a legal perspective, they're bound to that contract. That's the only reason it didn't end years ago."

"I…" Lightning wanted so bad to tell him why he trusted them – why he trusted the King. But he couldn't. "I need you guys to believe me here. If they wanted to, they could have killed me in an instant. But they didn't. They could have easily killed Chick, too, but they didn't. They don't want to fight, guys. None of them. And we're all that's left. We can fix it."

They met his pleas with silence. They could see the conviction in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He genuinely believed he was operating under truth and trust, and they weren't about to change his mind.

"How you gonna fix it?" Mater asked. "Y'can't just stop a war."

"We're going to Detroit," Lightning responded with renewed determination. "We're confronting the CEOs."

"Whoa, wait," Sally jumped in. "Detroit? The CEOs? Stickers, no! Those guys are more powerful than the government. You can't sway them. They won't listen. They'll just… they'll just get rid of you if you pose a threat. I can't let you do that."

"It's alright, Sal, I promise." He spoke to her in a soft, calming tone. "The Chryslers saved me more than once. I wouldn't be here without them. I gotta go help 'em."

"But – "

Doc reached out and stopped her before she could protest further. There was a thoughtful look in his eyes. They waited patiently for him to say what was on his mind.

"Do you realize what this could mean for you?" Doc asked, not in a threatening way, but in a collected, inquisitive way. "Have you considered all the possible outcomes?"

Lightning stared at Doc, and opened his mouth to reply a simple 'yes'. However, before he could vocalize the confirmation, he took the opportunity to go over them again. It was all too possible he could die. He was unarmed, unarmored, and the only one with no experience dealing with the manufacturers. They could dispose of him without so much as lifting a tire. And what did he have to offer in return? Moral support for his friends?

Friends that had taken bullets for him. Friends that didn't end the war on their own just so they could say they did the right thing.

"Yeah, Doc, I know," he choked out. "I know what could happen. And can I be honest? I'm scared to death. I can't put up a fight. I know that. But you know what else? I can't sit back and do nothing, not after what's been done for me."

"Okay," Doc said, backing up a little. "I respect your decision, much as I don't like it."

"What?" Sheriff and Sally asked simultaneously, looking to Doc in disbelief.

"Doc, what're you sayin'?" Sheriff inquired further. He didn't understand. Doc always stood for what he knew was right, what was safe.

"The kid knows more about the situation than we do," Doc said. "And though I have plenty of evidence that says otherwise, I know he's got good judgement. Call it racer's intuition."

Lightning cracked a small smile. He hadn't expected the old grump to understand in the least, let alone support him.

"Thanks, Doc."

"Just don't do anything stupid, you hear?" Sheriff said, his tone strict and intimidating only to hide a slight waver as he pulled away.

"Sure thing, Sheriff."

"Welp, bud," Mater addressed him, forcing a smile as he went to follow Sheriff, "you think when you get back we can go see if we can tip all the tractors in one go?"

"Mater, we can do whatever you want," Lightning responded with a chuckle. "Promise."

"Alright!" Mater seemed instantly cheered. "See you later, mater."

Lightning laughed a little more as his best friend disappeared around the corner of the building. His humor faded as he looked back to Doc and Sally, who remained seated in place. One look at the Porsche's expression and he faltered.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to her either. Why, when they'd just found happiness the week before, was it in danger of being taken away from them?

"Sally, I – " he tried to think of the right thing to say, something personal or meaningful. His stressed mind couldn't think of anything. "I'm sorry."

Sally couldn't decide how to react. She wanted to yell at him and force him to stay. She wanted to cry, but she had to be strong. He'd made up his mind. Against everything she'd ever wanted, he'd made up his mind. She tried to quell the half of her that wanted to calculate the odds of his return.

"Doc's right," she lied to her inner compulsions. "I trust you, Stickers. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

Without regard to Doc's watchful presence, Sally rolled forward and placed a quick, soft kiss on the red racecar's lips. He was so stunned he couldn't react before she pulled away.

"I love you," she whispered.

She tore her gaze away from him and rushed around the corner before he could see the tears flow down her fenders. As she disappeared, he rolled forward and stuttered a string of incoherent syllables. That wasn't at all how he'd envisioned a first kiss, let alone an 'I love you'. What had he done? What had he committed to?

Doc shook himself and let out a dismal sigh. Lightning's attention snapped back to the Hornet.

"It ain't just you anymore, hotrod," Doc told him. "I know you're tryin' to be noble and all, but you've got cars dependin' on you now. Don't let 'em down."

Lightning saw him start to pull back into town and came to his senses again. He motioned for Doc to stop. The older car obliged.

"Why do you trust my judgement? Do you think this is the right thing to do?" he asked.

Doc looked at him, surprised at the sudden inquiry, but settled back into a more serious stance. He looked the racer up and down once, taking the time to think about his next words.

"I think this is the dumbest thing you'll probably ever do," Doc told him. "But you know what? You've made your decision, and you're well aware of the consequences. You ain't as dumb as I thought you were a week ago, kid. I gotta give you some credit. But I think more than anything, I trust your company."

"Huh?" Lightning didn't understand. "But you don't even know them. And I can't tell you because – "

"It's that Weathers guy, ain't it?" Doc interrupted. "The one that was here a few days ago?"

Lightning flinched and rolled backwards in surprise. He hadn't given the King's identity away, had he? He didn't remember saying anything.

"Don't look so surprised, kid, it wasn't hard to figure out," Doc continued. "It should have taken months to recover from a rollover crash like his, even with a team of physicians working around the clock. I'm a doctor. I thought about it. It didn't make sense for him to show up a few days later looking like new. Only a manufacturer can do that much work that quickly."

Lightning's gaze fell as he considered it. He wondered if the King knew how obvious his recovery was in the eyes of a trained medical professional.

"And I won't even go into the coincidence of the Chrysler fighter showing up right after he left, or the fact that he's the same make and model and how scarce they are nowadays" Doc carried on. "Point is, Lightnin', as weird as it sounds, I trust him. He's fought real battles. I remember the one in the eighties. Saw it on TV. He's lost brothers in arms, kid, Chrysler's fighters were fallin' from the skies like rain. I'm gonna venture that he's seen things that would scar a normal car for life. Somehow, despite all that, he's a genuine car at heart. You made a heck of an ally when you helped him finish his last race, kiddo."

Lightning sighed. "Don't tell anybody, Doc. He doesn't want anyone to know."

Doc nodded in understanding. "Won't say a word. But I expect you back here in a week. You've got a grand re-opening to facilitate."

"Yeah, sure thing," he agreed. "I'll be there."

Doc grunted in approval and went to drive away again. "Go do what you gotta do, kid. Stay safe."

"Will do," Lightning reaffirmed as the Hornet turned toward the road.

Something still bugged him. Before Doc got too far away, the rookie called out once more, to appease his guilty conscious.

"Hey Doc? Take care of Sally, will you?"

"Always have, son. Always will."