The park was doomed from the start.

It was too beautiful. Too big. Too many vehicles whose livelihoods relied on caring for the park— and too many tourists. Too enigmatic a plot to unravel in time.

Still, Holley couldn't help but hope for the best. Missions never went to plan, but they almost always limited the damage from the scheme of the week. On her first few missions, the unpredictability made her engine palpitate; she had sobbed for about three hours straight after the World Grand Prix. But now, with over a hundred missions under her belt in the past three years, she found herself excited even in the face of certain doom.

They had been at 35,000 feet over the American Midwest for about two hours when Siddeley's voice crackled from the overhead intercom. "Coming up on Piston Peak National Park now. It's set to be a lovely evening, about 24 degrees Celsius, not many clouds around… 19:04 local time."

"Thank you, Siddeley." Holley jabbed the buttons on her seat, moving it from the computer screens to the windows. She watched a mountain fall behind them, and a tree-filled valley came into view. The whole area was washed in the pink sunset. A real gem of nature.

Also very romantic.

Shut up.

She shook her hood and sighed wistfully. "It really is a shame that we always go on missions where we could be on holiday."

"And we always go on holiday where we'd be for work!" Sid chuckled.

At the back end of the cabin, Finn stirred awake. Or maybe he'd been awake for a while, eavesdropping on them, and he'd just decided to stop now; she could never really tell with him. "Well, if you two want a break, I'm certain Smith and Mandi would be happy to take this assignment."

"We can't let them take it that easily," Holley joked. She would never complain about a break, but she loved her job. The challenges, the intellectual energy, even escaping captivity gave her a thrill. The work was long and hard, but meaningful. And if they were lucky, they may get a token of gratitude. One time they got a lifetime supply of toffee (from a going-out-of-business sale, granted, but it was a nice gesture).

"Personally, I don't mind the flight hours," Sid said. "Although, it would be nice if I were informed on what the assignment is. For example, how long will we be here? Will I make it back in time for the Air Agent Union vote? How many cars might try to kill us?"

"All in due time, Sid." Finn finished stretching, then moved his seat to the middle of the cabin. "Let's see if we've gotten over our jet lag. Lights, please."

All the windows closed. Holley's chair moved opposite of Finn's, and a green holographic screen appeared between them. It displayed all the information they had for this mission, in the style of an old-fashioned red-string board. One photo of a smug-faced white SUV was especially large. He was parked in front of a massive wooden building. The blueprints for said building were displayed next to the photo.

Finn scanned the board. "Holley, remind me of that SUV's name."

He might as well have said Pop quiz, hotshot. "Cad Spinner. Park superintendent. He's been wiring a lot of money in and out of his account as of late, which he claims is for renovation of his resort, the Fusel Lodge."

Sid scoffed. "The Fusel Lodge… That's like if I founded a lodge and called it 'the Carcass.' I'm assuming it's not plane-accessible."

"It is, but not for jets your size." Holley looked over the blueprints, just to double check. "You could try the front door when we get there, it's the largest by far. Anyway, outside of airplanes, Spinner is known for accommodating any bloke with money. But even with those connections, we suspect he may be involved in some shady business to pay for the renovations. He's already pulled funding from the park budget. In the past ten months, he has also accepted weekly electronic transfers from private bank accounts."

"So? There's plenty of government corruption C.H.R.O.M.E. should care about before the dealings of a park superintendent."

"That's a fair point," Finn said. "Frankly, I'd rather work on one of those cases. However, Spinner's situation is interesting for a different reason. Most of the personal accounts he's exchanged with are completely untraceable— and the few we could identify are based in Switzerland and Michigan. C.H.R.O.M.E. believes the superintendent is either taking bribes or being blackmailed."

"Or maybe both," Holley chimed in.

The very thought seemed to inject an extra spark of life to Finn's eyes. "Probably both. And with some of our Lemonhead friends on the loose again, we must be vigilant for any hints in the States. So our objective is to find out who those accounts belong to, and what they're paying Spinner for. National security could be at stake. Meanwhile, Siddeley, perhaps you could enjoy the re-opening festivities."

Sid didn't respond, except for a grumble regarding "appropriation."

"So what's our cover?" Holley asked. It was odd that the matter hadn't come up already.

Finn switched to another screen. "We are attending the event as a newly married couple—"

"Please, not that again."

The intercom clicked off, but they could still hear Sid laughing his tail off.

"That's what our handler gave us."

"I know, but doesn't it always feel awkward? You've been reconnecting with your family, and Mater and I are—"

"I thought you put that on hold."

"Yes, but—" She froze. "I never told you that. Did you follow us?"

"No comment."

"Finn!"

His expression softened in concern. "Yes, I did follow you. I was in the tumbleweed. You really didn't notice?"

She vaguely remembered a particularly large, thick tumbleweed trailing her and Mater for twenty miles down Route 66 on their last meeting. And she definitely remembered that Finn had looked slightly more old and dusty when she returned that night, and he had a persistent sneeze that he blamed on "allergies." Signs she hadn't thought much of at the time, since she was still processing… it wasn't heartbreak, per se, but certainly a disappointment.

She'd seen it coming, at least. The long-distance, low-contact relationship had been tough on both of them. Mater stressed out about her safety when they were apart, while Holley was always on edge that they'd be ambushed when together. So, that day, they had agreed to settle in the "friendzone," at least until Professor Zundapp and his gang had been put back in prison.

It was a good thing, really, yet she still felt guilty about it. And now she was irritated that Finn felt comfortable intruding on their privacy. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You didn't bring it up. And you know me, I'm not one to pry."

"Except you apparently are. And why do you care so much? You're not my father."

Sid cackled, and the intercom switched on again. "He's old enough to be!"

"We don't have to go with that cover," Finn said, ignoring Sid, "if it would be too distracting. HQ won't mind a little improvisation. Any suggestions?"

Oh, dear. She hadn't thought this far. So she said the first thing that came to mind: "Software developers."

The top of Finn's windshield quirked up. "It could work. The CIA uses that one all the time. But I don't know nearly as much about computers as you do."

"I could teach you. Or you could be my butler."

Once again, the cabin shook with Sid's cackles. Finn glared at the ceiling, as if he could silence the jet with a look, then returned his attention to Holley. "Is this revenge? For following you? Or— Or when I set off your security system?"

She pursed her lips. "No comment."

"Well, I'm up to the challenge." Finn pressed the button on his tirerest, and the green screen vanished. The windows opened, and pink light flooded the cabin. With another tap, his chair moved toward the computers. "I'll need to edit my disguise a bit. Hopefully nothing major. What does a software developer look like…?"

"Coming up on the, um, 'Fusel Lodge' now." Sid nearly choked over the name. "To your left, you will see lots of trees. To the right, there's… It looks like a small airstrip? Smokey out here, too, they must have a lot of cook-outs."

"To the right would be the Piston Peak Air Attack base," Holley said. She had spent the first hour out of Chicago memorizing a map of the park. "They're firefighters. And it smells like smoke because there was just a fire today, in this area. Nothing damaging, it's quite routine to have smaller fires in this area."

"Oh." The intercom clicked off.

Holley exhaled, leaning back in her seat. So far, things seemed to be going well. She didn't expect things to keep going well, but she felt prepared for anything.

(She wasn't.)

Hi.

The 10th anniversary of Planes: Fire & Rescue is upon us, and dang I feel old. It's an underrated movie… just like Cars 2. Put 'em together, it just makes sense. Good news is, this story is almost entirely written— I have the first draft, I just have to modify it to fit with the others in this series. So I'm gonna attempt weekly updates.