Chapter 13

Baloo was having a wonderful dream. He was at Louie's, his favorite place in the world. Salsa music was blaring from the radio, and he was dancing to it. "Mmmm yeah," he sighed contentedly, swaying his hips. "I love this song. How about another burger, old pal?"

"You got it, my man!" Louie said from the behind the bar. "One Superincredible Burger, coming up!" He started throwing together ingredients, his long arms a blur. He worked incredibly fast, and the burger was done in less than a minute. A waiter appeared and presented it to Baloo on a silver platter. It was hot, juicy, and piled high with every topping one could ask for.

Baloo wolfed it down in a single bite. "Thanks," he said, "this is for you." He removed a huge stack of cash from his shirt pocket and placed it on the empty platter. "Man, this is the life," he purred, rubbing his belly. "Being retired is the greatest."

"No jive, Clive," Louie said, polishing the bar with a rag. "I gotta admit I'm a little jealous. Some of us still have to work for a livin'."

"Heh heh," Baloo chuckled. "You'll get there someday."

"I mean, life is happenin' for ya right now! You got it all. Money, freedom, a wife…"

Baloo froze like a statue. One of his feet was still in mid-air. "A what?" He looked down at his left hand and saw, to his dismay, the shiny ring on his finger.

The door of the restaurant flew open with a crash. A large, heavyset figure stood in the doorway, almost filling up the door frame.

Baloo's mouth fell open when he saw who it was. "B-B...B-B-Broadcast Sally?!"

The sultry hippopotamus gazed seductively at him. "I couldn't wait in the plane any longer, baby," she said. She noticed the music playing and started dancing awkwardly towards him, moving to the beat. "Mmmm. Why didn't you tell me this place was so…swingin'?" she said, winking at him.

Baloo turned to run, but his feet were frozen to the floor. He looked down and saw that shackles had somehow appeared around his ankles, binding him where he stood. Sally grabbed him by the shoulders. "Where do you think you're going...hubby?" She started pulling his face toward hers, puckering her lips.

"Uh...sweetheart, I think I'm comin' down with a headache," Baloo pleaded. "Or maybe the plague?" He tried to push Sally away, but she was built like a linebacker and simply ignored his feeble flailings. Her face got closer...and closer…

Death Valley

"Ugggghhhhhh."

Baloo woke up with a splitting headache. It felt like a gorillabird had kicked him in the face. He was also unbelievably thirsty, and his stomach felt like a bottomless pit.

"Where am I?" he moaned. It was dark. Night had fallen outside. There was barely enough starlight for him to see that he was in the cockpit of the Sea Duck. It was a disaster zone. Broken glass and pieces of trash cluttered every inch of the flight deck. He looked out the windshield. The plane's nose was almost completely buried in an enormous pile of sand.

Slowly, his memory came trickling back. There had been a race, an explosion.

A crash.

"Omigosh! Kit!" he cried.

He sprang to his feet. A massive pain shot through his side, but he forced himself to ignore it. Gritting his teeth, he ran into the cargo hold as fast as the pain would allow him to. "Kit!" he shouted. "Kit! Where are ya?!"

He couldn't see anything in the darkness. Blindly, he felt his way along the wall to the first-aid box and opened it. He kept an emergency flashlight in there at all times. His hands trembling, he flicked it on. A thin, reassuring beam of light shined across the cabin.

The back of the plane was an even bigger disaster area than the front. The large quantities of sporting equipment, airplane parts, souvenirs, and various knickknacks that Baloo stored in the cabin had been dispersed all over the floor. Trash was everywhere, several of the passenger seats had fallen over...and Kit was lying on the floor of the hold, unconscious.

Baloo frantically ran over to him. Setting the flashlight on the floor, he took hold of Kit's shoulders and gently shook him. "Speak to me, li'l britches!" he pleaded. "Are you all right?"

To Baloo's incredible relief, Kit stirred and started to open his eyes. He was bruised and battered...but breathing. "P-Papa Bear…?" Kit whispered.

"Oh...thank goodness you're alive, li'l britches!"

Kit immediately grabbed his forehead and winced. "Barely," he croaked.

"You hurt bad? Can ya move?"

Kit flexed his arm, testing its range of motion. "Nothing's broken, I don't think. I feel like I just got thrashed by the school bully, but I guess I'll be okay." He sat up and looked around. "How did we survive that crash, anyway?"

"Sand must have broken our fall," Baloo said, pointing out the window. "Lucky us, right?"

"Yeah," Kit said, nursing his massive headache. "Lucky us."

Baloo expression darkened. "That Jarrett! What a two-timin' little snake! I'd bet my last jackpot he's the one that messed with our engine!"

Kit picked up the flashlight from the floor. His memories were coming back to him, too. He recalled what he had seen just before the crash. "I'm not sure it was Jarrett. Take a look," he said. He pointed the light at the scratches on left wall of the cabin.

Baloo's eyes widened. He reached out and touched the serrated surface, feeling how deep the scratches were. He whistled. "No kiddin'. Pieces monkeys?"

"That's what it looks like to me."

Baloo nodded. "We'd better check the rest of the plane then. Who knows what else is broken?"

They opened the door of the cargo hold and stepped outside. Baloo swept the flashlight over the body of the plane, surveying the damage. The plane actually seemed to be in pretty decent condition for having just crashed. It was banged up, but there was no major structural damage - the sand had absorbed almost all of the impact. The engines, however, were a mess. Although the propellers were intact, both engine compartments had been reduced to charred metal.

Baloo grimaced as he remembered how much money he'd put into customizing those engines. "My poor, poor baby," Baloo moaned. "Well, we're definitely not flying anytime soon."

Kit stared at the vast desert surrounding them. It was even more unsettling up close. "So what do we do now?" he said quietly.

Baloo pointed to the horizon. The sky was still dark, but the first glow of morning sun was just starting to appear. "We need to find a way to get out of this desert. And soon, too. It might feel okay now, but once that sun comes up we're gonna feel like two pizzas in an oven."

"But how? We can't exactly walk out of here." Kit racked his brain, trying to think. "Wait a minute. What about Ignatz? He must know we never finished the race, right? He'll send out a search party for sure."

"No good. We can't depend on that. Even if he does send someone, could take days for them to find us. We're way off the racetrack, remember?"

Kit's shoulders slumped. "Right."

Baloo leaned against the fuselage and stroked his chin. Then he snapped his fingers. "Wait a sec...the radio! Maybe we can call for help!"

He and Kit went back into the plane and entered the cockpit. Baloo grabbed the transmitter, then flicked the power switch on the dashboard. Nothing happened. He tried working the switch back and forth a few times. His face fell. "Awww, man! It's busted. Must have broke in the crash." He dropped the transmitter back onto the dashboard in frustration.

"Can we fix it?"

"Hmm...maybe. We do have tools to do that. Should be in the back."

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" Kit said, tugging at Baloo's shoulder.

Together, they made their way back towards the cargo hold. Baloo sighed as he stared at the mess of stuff everywhere. "How are we supposed to find anything in here?"

Kit ran to the far corner of the cabin. He started digging through a giant pile of tiki masks and other bric-a-brac. "I'll start here. You start from where you are, and we'll meet in the middle. Sound good?"

Baloo nodded. He took a step towards the nearest pile of junk. "Good plan, li'l bri-whooaaaaaa!" he cried as he tripped over something boxy on the floor. The entire plane shook as he hit the deck.

Kit was back at his side instantly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Not like I hurt anything that wasn't busted up already." Baloo sat up gingerly. "I tripped over something…big." He pointed his flashlight at the object he had just come a cropper of. It was a black leather briefcase. It looked quite expensive, in contrast to the rest of plane's cheap décor. "Yours?"

Kit shook his head. "Not mine."

"Well, it's not mine, either."

Kit rolled his eyes. "I could have told you that. Weird...I don't remember seeing it here before."

"Maybe one of Becky's rich clients left it under a seat awhile ago. The crash musta moved it out into the open."

"Really? Maybe there's something in there that can help us." Kit approached the briefcase curiously.

"Like what? A new engine?" Baloo said sarcastically. But he had to admit, he was also curious about what was inside. He followed Kit and kneeled next to him on the floor as the duo leaned over the mysterious accessory.

Kit examined the briefcase. It lacked a name tag or any other sort of identifying information. Surprisingly, there didn't appear to be any sort of locking mechanism. The only thing that held it shut were two simple gold clasps in the front. Kit popped open the clasps. The top of the case swung open like a clamshell.

Baloo pointed the flashlight inside. It looked like any ordinary businessman's briefcase. In the main shell there were two stacks of papers positioned neatly next to each other. A collection of white business cards was stashed in the pockets of the lining.

Baloo picked up a card. It read:

YUL B. ALLWRIGHT

ALLWRIGHT INSURANCE COMPANY, L.L.P.

"Making Things Allwright for 20 Years"

"Allwright," he said. "Hmmm. Sounds familiar."

"That's the name of that insurance guy you wanted to talk to," Kit reminded him.

"Oh yeah. Now I remember." Baloo picked up some more business cards and leafed through them. "Huh...these are all his business cards. Weird."

"It must be his briefcase, then."

"But we've never even met the guy before! What would his briefcase be doing on our plane?" Baloo was flummoxed. He racked his brain, trying to make the connection.

As Baloo sat there deep in thought, Kit reached into the briefcase and picked up one of the papers from the bottom. And then something unexpected happened. There was a mechanical click, and the entire false bottom of the briefcase swung open, revealing a secret compartment underneath.

"What the!" Baloo dropped the business cards he was holding in surprise. He shined the flashlight inside the newly-revealed compartment. He and Kit almost bumped heads as they craned their necks to look.

Inside the compartment were some loose wires, and a strange object with a handle attached to some spikes. It looked like a gardening tool of some kind. These rested on top of what appeared to be a layer of bricks, neatly stacked against each other. Except they weren't bricks at all. Each of them was stamped with the same ominous warning:

DANGER - ACME EXPLOSIVES

HANDLE WITH EXTREME CAUTION!

They both gasped in shock.

Baloo jumped away from the briefcase so fast he fell over again. He swallowed nervously. "You know what, Kit? Somethin' tells me I don't want to meet this Allwright guy after all."

"This doesn't make any sense. Why would there be high explosives hidden in his briefcase?" Kit wondered aloud. Carefully, he started reaching into the case.

"Hey, watch it! You wanna blow us all up?"

Kit ignored Baloo's warning. Fearlessly, and gently, he picked up the strange object that resembled a miniature rake. He studied it thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands.

"What is that thing?" Baloo said.

"I dunno." Kit touched one of the tines on the head of the rake. It was extremely sharp. A look of inspiration slowly appeared on his face. "But I might have an idea." He walked over to the scratches on the wall, then placed the head of the rake on top of the area. "Bingo," he said proudly. The tines on the rake matched up perfectly with the gouges on the wall.

Baloo's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. "Holy moley," he whispered. "That doohickey...those explosives… Kit, are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"I'm thinking there aren't any pieces monkeys in Raceville at all."

Baloo's expression darkened. "No...just someone who wants a bunch of pilots to think there are."

"And make a lot of money doing it!" Kit added. His voice was shaking with excitement. "Baloo, we gotta tell the cops about this!"

"Yeah," Baloo agreed. "If we ever get out of here."

Kit's shoulders slumped as he remembered the gravity of their situation. Baloo walked over and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Come on, li'l britches. Let's keep looking for those tools." He started walking back towards the pile of junk.

Kit froze. He didn't move a muscle.

"Uh...li'l britches?"

Kit held up a finger and motioned for Baloo to be quiet. "Hold on a sec," he whispered. "Do you hear something?"

Baloo tilted his head upward and listened carefully. The only sound he heard was a slight breeze outside. "I don't hear nothin'."

"Shhhh," Kit whispered. "Listen."

Baloo moved closer to the window and strained his ears, trying to hear past the wind. And then he heard it: a steady, low-pitched mechanical buzzing. It was so far off in the distance that it was almost imperceptible. But it was getting louder.

They both recognized what it was at the same time. "A plane!" they shouted in unison.

Baloo bolted outside. Kit followed right behind him. They looked in the direction of the buzzing sound. There, in the sky, was a bright speck of light. It was still many miles away, but it was heading in their general direction. The buzzing got louder as the light grew brighter. As it neared, they saw that the light was actually a searchlight beam. It was shining down from the plane, sweeping the desert floor.

"That's gotta be Ignatz!" Kit yelled.

"We gotta get his attention!"

They started jumping around, hooting and hollering at the top of their lungs. Baloo waved the flashlight around and pointed the beam into the sky. Kit cupped his finger around his mouth and whistled as loud as he could.

"Help! Help! Down here!"

"Mayday! Mayday! We're over here, ya overgrown turkey!"

The plane was fast. In less than a minute, it soared over their heads, its engines blaring. They looked up, trying to tell what kind of kind of aircraft it was, but it was too dark to tell. As they were looking in the plane's direction, the searchlight beam swept over them. They clapped their hands to their eyes, unprepared for how powerful it was.

"Yeow!" Baloo cried. "Watch where you point that thing!"

The glare in their eyes quickly disappeared as the light moved past them and continued sweeping the desert. The plane flew on, showing no sign that it had spotted them.

"Down here, Ignatz! Look over here!"

"Heyyyyyy! Don't go! Stupid bird!"

They continued shouting for as long as they could, watching the light in the sky grow fainter and fainter. Finally, their vocal cords exhausted, they collapsed onto the sand.

"Do you think they saw us?" Kit said.

Baloo didn't answer. The light in the sky was very faint now, the sound of the engine barely audible. "Come on, baby. Turn around," he whispered. His heart sank as the the last hints of the plane disappeared entirely.

"Nope," he said sadly.

Then, suddenly, Baloo heard the sound of the engine again. He turned toward the horizon and saw that the light had reappeared. The plane was flying lower than before. And it was coming straight towards them.

"Well, I'll be a parakeet's uncle," he said. A wave of relief washed over him.

Kit pumped his fist. "Way to go, Ignatz! I knew he wouldn't let us down!"

The plane buzzed overhead once again, making a wide arc as it came in for a landing. The searchlight beam focused directly on them for a few seconds, then turned off. They were able to see the shape of the aircraft clearly in the dawn sky. She was a boxy, ugly, gray passenger plane. A large floodlight had been hastily attached to the underside of the right wing.

"Huh. That's weird," Kit said.

"What is it?"

"I didn't know Ignatz owned a plane like that. I haven't seen it before. He must keep it parked at the airfield or something."

A huge cloud of dust went up as the plane touched down onto the desert sands. She slowed down quickly and came to a stop, right in front of the Sea Duck. With open arms, Baloo and Kit started jogging towards the door of the passenger cabin.

"Iggy!" Baloo said gratefully. "Boy, I never thought I'd be so glad to see you!"

The door to the cabin swung open. Baloo and Kit gasped in surprise.

It wasn't Ignatz standing in the doorway. Instead, there was a tall, handsome jackal in a three-piece suit whom they didn't recognize. He had a revolver in his hand. Smiling at them, but not in a friendly way, he slowly leveled the weapon directly at Baloo's chest.