Chapter Six

The Return Of A Ghost

The next morning, Michael packed up and vacated his motel room early. He had a few things he wanted to get off his chest. He'd made the first of his phone calls last night from his room.

Now he needed to make the second one to a very private number. He wanted to be more discreet for that one. He drove down the road until he saw a convenient payphone that was somewhat isolated from his being overheard.

"What is going on?" Kitt asked as Michael coasted to a halt in a nearby carpark. "Why are we here? I thought we were going to pick up Maggie and her son."

"None of your business," Michael replied shortly. "This is personal. Just mind your mouth and do as you're told. I won't be long." He opened the door and got out, slamming it shut behind him.

"If you say so," Kitt replied miffily.

He watched his pilot walk away. "You seem to forget you are my business, Mr Knight. It seems I must be on constant guard to save you from yourself. It's just as well I do not need to sleep to recharge my batteries, like you humans."

Michael strolled casually up to the payphone. He glanced all around, but none of the customers of a local café, who were seated at the outside tables, appeared to notice him. No one seemed to be watching him.

He eased a sigh of relief. He'd memorised Devon's phone number from the couple of times he'd been into the office. It was time to air a few of the grievances he'd saved up for Mr Miles. He knew he would certainly be demanding a progress report.

He didn't see the sky-blue Pontiac that cruised by behind him. It drew up beside Kitt. The two car thieves checked where Michael was going as they climbed out.

Then their greedy eyes fastened on the Trans Am. They had come this time with the intention of acquiring the car. Even if they were intending to steal it in broad daylight.

"It sure is a real beauty…" Jackson crooned as he ambled closer. "Be almost a cryin' shame to break it down for the parts."

"A real shame…" his companion in crime concurred. "But you know we can't sell it as is. Too many questions. Too much heat. We gotta be smart about this."

Kitt locked his doors while he watched and waited. He was completely aware of the position of all the players in this little game of cat and mouse. Of course, he could set off his alarm the moment the car thieves touched him. It would bring Michael running to his rescue.

'But where would the fun be in that?'

He didn't need rescuing. He was quite capable of repelling the car thieves on his own.

Besides, Kitt didn't doubt that Michael was currently bending Devon's ear and giving him all his complaints and criticisms. He wondered if Devon would inform him that Michael could make any verbal communication through his onboard comms. Of course, Kitt figured his pilot wanted to be private with his grievances.

Kitt didn't mind. He had a few of his own that he would share with Devon at a later date. Right now, he had two very small players who were about to be forced to eat a very large dose of humble pie.

He hummed quietly to himself. That was another appropriate colloquialism he'd discovered in his data banks. He felt he was quickly becoming quite adept at them.

The two thieves wandered closer, trying to appear casual as they scanned the area to be sure they were not being observed. But no one appeared to be interested in their doings. The buzz of conversation went on, unabated, around them.

Brown hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans. "What, ah…" He looked around again. "What do ya think? Do we take it now?"

Jackson hitched the slim metal rod from his jeans pocket. "I think, here's the gig…" He folded out a lock pick. "We got the key right here…"

With his back to the ensuing situation with Kitt, Michael fished in his pocket for coins and inserted a few into the slot as he picked up the phone. He punched in the numbers and leaned closer to the booth so he wouldn't be overheard. He didn't have long to wait.

His call was soon answered. "Devon Miles!"

"Hey, Devon." Michael's lips twisted at his sharp tone. "You don't sound too good."

"Michael! Where on earth are you?" Devon demanded in a harassed tone. "And where's my car? You should have been back here by now with the information on Tanya Walker."

"Aw, come on," Michael replied. "You act as if you don't know exactly where I am."

"I'm not clairvoyant," Devon replied tightly. "How would I know unless you tell me?"

"We both know you've got a spy," Michael accused.

"Kitt? Don't be ridiculous. I told you that he answers only to you. Unless, of course, you're incapacitated or leave him. Then he is free to make his own decisions."

"It…" Michael replied in a disgusted tone.

"Huh?" Devon asked.

"It is an 'it'," Michael replied. "Not a 'he.' Don't ever forget that. That car is not human and never will be. No matter what it thinks."

"I don't see what difference that makes," Devon protested.

"That's because I'm the one out here all by his lonesome," Michael reminded him. "I'm a 'he.' I could get my face shot off, but not it. You and Wilton made sure of that."

"Kitt is a lot more than simply an 'it'," Devon replied tersely. "You need to give him a chance to prove himself."

"Oh, I will. Believe me, I will," Michael replied grimly.

While Michael was airing his grievances, Kitt sat quietly waiting as Jackson tried to jemmy his door lock with the pick. But no matter which way the car thief turned his tool, the door stubbornly remained locked. Kitt worked on snaring the implement and rendering it useless.

Brown looked around, scanning for any sign of the car's driver returning. Jackson kept twisting his pick and trying the door handle. Nothing seemed to be working.

"What's happening?" his companion asked as he leaned against the car to shield what they were trying to do.

"Don't know…" Jackson frowned. "Can't seem to open it. It won't budge. Maybe the lock's broken."

"Well, try harder!" Brown encouraged in a low tone. "Before that tall hombre comes back and catches us trying to lift his car! Or someone sees us! We ain't exactly hiding out here, ya know."

Back at the phone booth, Michael wasn't having much better luck at explaining himself. "I might have a lead on Tanya. I found someone who knows all about her."

"What are you talking about? What's happened, Michael?" Devon asked impatiently.

"Nothing so far," Michael reassured him. "But I made contact. Now I've just got to reel her in."

"Marvellous!" Devon replied. "That's what you went up there for."

"Well, let's hope so…" Michael cautioned. "I'll know more in a couple of hours. I've got a date."

Devon's tone sharpened. "What happens in two hours? Do not do anything unwise." He sighed. "Look who I'm talking to. The ultimate risk taker and maker."

"Yeah, well, there's gonna be a demolition derby," Michael supplied quickly.

"Splendid! A demolition derby…" Devon paused and a frown entered his tone. "What's a demolition derby? That sounds fatal."

"Well, it's where people enter their cars," Michael paused. "It's sort of a competition. See who comes out on top as a winner."

Behind him, the two, would-be car thieves were having no success at all. Kitt was enjoying himself making them suffer. He gave the man's lock pick a final twist for good measure.

Jackson yanked it out and stared at it in consternation. "It bent my pick!"

"Come on…" Brown encouraged, not wanting to stay any longer. "It's gettin' way too hot around here. We'd better get outta here while we still can. Someone could've called the cops already."

"No, hang on a minute…" Jackson was now thoroughly riled. It had become a matter of personal honour that he lifted the Trans Am.

"Sensational! We can't lose," Devon enthused. "We have the best car on earth. Now, what happens next?"

Michael waited a beat then he decided not to sugarcoat it. "All the cars get demolished. Turned into a heap of metal and broken glass. But it is for charity."

"That's not very funny, Michael," Devon chided him. "Now, what really happens? What, exactly, are you up to?"

"That's it. That's what really happens. You really do need to get out more, Devon. Check out the real world sometime. It might surprise you."

"I doubt it," Devon replied sourly. "I've seen enough of the world to satisfy me. Besides, someone has to hold the fort while you go galivanting off around the countryside looking for revenge. If you have found Tanya, then you need to uncover the proof against her so the authorities can properly deal with her."

"You and I both know that bird won't fly," Michael replied. "Besides, I've got a personal beef with that woman. She shot me and left me for dead. I told you I ain't waiting around for her to die of old age."

Behind Michael, Jackson's temper finally boiled over. He raised one foot and kicked out at the door he'd been trying to pry open. But his kick bounced off Kitt's bullet-proof window.

"Owww!" Jackson staggered backwards, jumping around on his damaged leg.

"Hey! You idiot!" Brown chastised him roundly. "What did ya do that for? Don't be using your foot, man. You gotta use somethin' that ain't gonna get you hurt."

He waved the brick he'd picked out of a nearby garden. "You gotta use somethin' like this…"

He threw back his arm and hurled the missile at Kitt's window. It promptly bounced off the glass and hit his injured partner in the forehead. Jackson fell into him, taking them both to the ground.

"Hey, hey!" Brown went down beneath his partner's dead weight. "Hey, Jackson! Jackson!" He began to slap his partner in the face. "Talk to me, man! Wake up!"

"Look, Devon…" Michael counselled. "If the car is everything we think it is, it can't get hurt. We'll sail through and grab Tanya's full attention."

Devon huffed. "But much of what we've designed has yet to be proven in the field. I do wish you would reconsider. Putting yourself in harm's way achieves nothing but your imminent demise. Find the proof on Miss Walker and come back here. I'll take care of the rest through the proper channels."

"Giving her time to get away again. No, Devon. I think it's safe to say that, by the end of the day, everything will be tested." Michael grinned. "For better or for worse…"

"Michael… Michael?" Devon tried again to remonstrate with him. "I do wish you would see reason. Michael!"

But Michael was no longer listening. He shrugged as he hung up the receiver and returned to Kitt. He started the engine and pulled away from the parking spot, leaving the two would-be car thieves behind on the pavement.

Jackson staggered to his feet. "I'm getting' mad, man!" he complained. "You understand? Mad!"

"Yes, Jackson…" Brown soothed. "Well, I can understand that. You've just been beaten by that fancy car."

Jackson held his head as he walked away back to his car. "That smart car will be mine! Mine, ya hear?"

He felt his head. "I'll enjoy taking it to bits, piece by piece…"

Brown didn't bother answering as they both got back into the Pontiac. He'd always found his partner was better left alone until he'd cooled down some.

Privately, he didn't hold out much hope of their acquiring the Trans Am any time soon. He'd already decided it would be easier to try and break into Fort Knox!

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Kitt didn't bother to inform Michael about the hapless car thieves. He had enjoyed foiling their futile attempts to lift him. He knew they would never succeed unless Michael did something foolish like leaving his door open in a moment of inattention.

Kitt consoled himself with the fact that, so far, his pilot had not been so careless as to leave the most expensive car in the world unattended and exposed. That would require a whole new level of thoughtlessness.

"Here we go…" Michael pulled up outside Maggie's apartment building right on time.

The pair of them were already standing expectantly outside on the pavement. Buddy jumped up and down and waved as soon as Kitt appeared around the corner.

Michael got out to circle the hood and open the passenger door. He pushed the back of the seat forward and ushered the boy inside. Buddy's eyes sparkled as he climbed into the back seat.

"Cool car…" he said enviously. "Waaayy cool. Wish I had one just like this."

"Well, you've got his stamp of approval," Maggie said as she got into the front seat. "He wouldn't go to sleep after you left last night. And he's talked of nothing but this outing since he got up. He's barely eaten any breakfast, he was so excited."

Michael got back behind the wheel. "Then I'm glad I suggested it. You two deserve a day out."

"Thank you," Maggie said simply. "It really is very kind of you. To take an interest in us, like this. We hardly know you."

"No problem…" Michael grinned as he pulled away from the curb. "I remember when I was his age. I wasn't interested in girls, just cars."

"Girls…" Buddy pulled a face. "Yuk!"

Both adults looked at each other and began to laugh. The sun was shining, and the day was heating up. It looked like it was going to be a great time to spend some time demolishing a few cars.

Forced to remain silent because of their passengers, Kitt ran his calculations and waited for events to unfold. He didn't doubt that Michael had every intention of putting him in harm's way once more. The lesson he'd already learned about his mercurial pilot was that Kitt needed to be prepared for every eventuality.

When they reached the auto racing track on the outskirts of the town, it sparkled in the hot sunshine. Flags and banners hung everywhere. Crowds and cars took up every available space. The stands were already filling up with eager spectators.

Over the loudspeakers, the commentator declared, "Hi, everybody! And haven't we been graced with a beautiful day here at the Millston Speedway for the first running of what we hope will become an annual event! Thanks to Mr Benjamin!"

A carnival of activity bustled everywhere as beautiful new cars from various electronic manufacturers situated in the famous valley, proudly carried their company logos. They were being serviced by teams utilizing the same semi-truck and trailer rigs furnished by Com Tron with each bearing its logo and stripes.

The announcer continued with his introduction. "The Com Tron Demolition Derby! We've got a full field of beautiful, brand-new vehicles, right off the showroom floor! You'll probably going to get to see them, all turned out into a body shop bonanza before the end of this day. In a few minutes, before the cars go to the track, we'll be introducing you to our field of drivers and…"

The announcer droned on as Kitt cruised into the pit lane where all the other cars were being lined up and being gone over by their various crews. Michael drove slowly down to the end of the line and pulled up.

Kitt's dashboard was set to normal. The car seethed quietly with the enforced inaction and his inability to communicate with Michael. He had questions to which he required answers and fast! He wanted to know why they were here and what Michael had planned for the day.

Buddy leaned forward from the back seat. His young face was a picture of barely contained excitement. "Wow! It's better than an auto show!"

Maggie smiled. "Well, you'd better take 'em all in while you can, Buddy. There won't be much left of them after the race."

Michael frowned at the gathered semis. "Maggie? Why all the trucks from Com Tron? They're everywhere."

Maggie sighed. "Because, like I told you, they're sponsoring the race. They're providing the drivers and all the gear too. Mr Benjamin wanted to win at all costs. He's using the same tough guys who testified against my husband."

She stared at him in horror. "Oh, you're not really thinking of entering your beautiful car. It's too lovely to end up smashed to bits." She ran one hand over the dashboard. "Those guys play for keeps."

Deep within, Kitt listened. 'Smashed to bits?'

He knew such an outcome would be impossible to achieve, but it didn't make him feel any easier. He continued to listen and make his calculations. He urgently needed to get Michael alone.

"It's for charity, isn't it?" Michael shrugged, knowing they were being closely listened to by the car's AI. "Maybe Benjamin won't win."

Maggie looked aghast. "Yeah, but it's also for people who can afford it. You know, I can't figure out just why you're doing this. What do you have to gain?"

"I have my reasons," he replied shortly.

"You're a strange man." Maggie smiled to soften her words. "Nice... but strange."

"Thanks…" Michael grinned as he shook his head. "I think…"

He turned to the excited boy behind him. "Now, let's at least get you two some good seats in the owner's row, huh? You've gotta have a front row seat to see all the action."

Maggie stared at him. "Me? In the owner's row? Oh, that'll frost 'em for sure!" She turned to her son and smiled happily as Michael got out of the car.

He left them behind as he walked slowly over to the credential's booth. He concentrated on the unmistakable figure of Tanya Walker, who was checking off a clipboard in her hands. She was still beautiful.

He felt a twist of hate clench in his guts as he walked up to her. He saw once again the tortured vision of her callously shooting him out in the desert. He had to stop himself from reaching for her pretty throat and strangling the life from her. He knew her beauty was barely skin deep.

Instead, he managed to remain standing nonchalantly, as if he had all the time in the world and they were complete strangers. "I understand this is where I check in, Tanya."

She looked him over in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm Michael Knight." He stared at her, trying not to allow his hatred to show.

"Oh, you're the one who called up last night," she replied sweetly, looking him over again with interest and more than a little puzzlement. "Then you were serious about entering your car? You weren't joking?"

Michael nodded. "Dead serious…" He allowed the insinuation to flow over her head.

"I see…" Tanya frowned at him as if she was trying to remember if she'd seen him somewhere before. "Well, your car serves as the entry fee. But you'd better not plan on getting much of it back. There is a nice trophy to the winning car and the driver walks away with five thousand dollars in cash."

She paused as she looked him over critically. Michael could almost see her devious mind working, calculating the odds. He figured she was deciding if he was worth getting to know better, or not. But there was no flicker of recognition in her cold eyes.

Michael could thank Dr Wesley for doing his job well. Maybe too well, at times. Now and then, he still forgot when he looked in the mirror and was surprised by the stranger staring back at him.

He smiled easily at the woman he'd come to find. "Oh, that's real nice. But I'll be giving the prize money to the charity. I don't need it. I already have enough for my needs."

"I see…" Tanya's calculated interest in him grew. "You're very confident. You know, I should warn you that most of these Com Tron drivers are professionals and a little too eager for the driver's money. It could get dangerous out there for an amateur."

Michael shrugged. "These days, what isn't dangerous? We all take risks that don't always pay off."

Tanya shook her head. "Okay. I guess it's your funeral."

Michael stared at her as her politely interested mask slipped a little. He decided to push her further. "By the way, did anyone mention the fact that I was in town looking for you?"

Her look hardened. "As a matter of fact, yes. Lonnie told me you'd met outside that bar across town. But I didn't understand the message and I don't deal with salesmen."

Michael smirked at her. "You don't know what I'm selling."

Tanya managed to stick to her line of cool dismissal. "It wouldn't matter. I don't work down at your level."

Michael eased his stance. "Wanna bet? After the race, you'll be looking for me. I guarantee it. You'll be looking for me all over 'cause I got something you'll want. Real bad."

Tanya's tone turned frosty. "Mr Knight. I'm not sure I can accept your entrance into this race without proper credentials. Who are you? Where are you from? And why are you here looking for me?"

As she dismissed Michael, William Benjamin walked up, looking somewhat worse for wear. He held a half-full glass of champagne in his hand.

"Come on, Tanya... Let's go, let's go... The crowd's waiting." He staggered slightly and smiled foolishly. "I gotta show them all a good time. Make them want more."

Michael extended his hand and assumed his slightly bemused, down home, country boy style. "You must be Mr Benjamin. I sure do admire your charity work here, and I'm sure glad to do my little part in making this event memorable."

Benjamin stared at him in confusion. "Doing your part?" He shook his head. "How and with what?"

"Yes, sir. You see, I'm the only independent driver in the race. But it's still an honour." He stood back confidently.

"Oh…" The other man glanced at Tanya. "We don't use jalopies in this race. Um, Mister…"

"Knight..." Michael supplied quickly. "And my car's no jalopy. You can see for yourself. He's brand spanking new." He turned to indicate Kitt with Maggie and Buddy standing beside him, both looking excited.

A team of Com Tron's technicians were quickly going over Kitt. They seemed impressed with what they found.

Michael saw Tanya stare past him and her expression hardened further. He could sense she was longing to say something about Maggie's unexpected presence. She obviously didn't like it.

"I see…" Benjamin said thoughtfully. "Well, you are a very generous man." He turned to his executive assistant. "You make darn sure the crowd appreciates his gesture, Tanya. It's not too often we get a real knight riding in on a dark horse." He chuckled at his quip and staggered slightly.

"Very well…" Tanya eyed Michael coldly.

"Thank you, Mr Benjamin," Michael approved. "Oh…" He pointed to Tanya. "And I'll need a couple of seats in the owner's stand. I think it's only fair they have a front row seat to see me win the race."

Tanya turned to her co-worker who was among a group standing behind her. "Lonnie? Would you give Mr Knight some owner's passes please." She looked as if the words were choking her.

"I'd be glad to…" Lonnie smiled at Michael as she handed over the tickets.

She obviously liked what she saw. Michael accepted the tickets with a smile and a nod. Lonnie took a few moments more before she looked away and went back to her friends.

Tanya stared at Michael. "Goodbye, Mr Knight. I do hope all your dreams of glory don't come crashing down around your ears." She gave Maggie and her young son a final, extra hard stare.

"Thanks…" Michael nodded as he turned and walked away.

Benjamin leaned closer to her. "Why are you so hostile?" He grasped her by the shoulders and gave her a small, affectionate shake. "Come on. You seem to think there's a kidnapper behind every tree. This is my event. I paid for it. I'm perfectly safe here. I'll prove it to you. You'll see."

He smiled. "Come on…" He turned her and took her with him back into the crowd of well-wishers and patrons gathered behind them.

Michael smiled as he walked back to Maggie with the tickets. "Here ya go. Take your place with the valley's finest and hold your head up high. You've earned these."

"Thanks…" Maggie accepted the tickets with a broad smile. "Oh, you're a doll." Her smile faded as she looked around with a worried frown. "But I can't find Buddy. He was here a moment ago. I don't where that kid's slipped off to." She shook her head.

"Oh, don't worry about him," Michael advised. "There're a lot of cars to see. He'll turn up when he's good and ready to come back to you. The kid loves cars."

"If you think so…" Maggie sighed. "Michael… Good luck. Okay? Don't go breaking a leg or anything else important. Like your head."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Piece of cake," he assured her as he opened the driver's door and got in.

Maggie watched him, her expression saying she didn't believe a word he said. She put a hand to her lips.

"Please be safe…" she whispered, as she turned away and headed for her seat in the stands.

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