Chapter Eight

Make It Count

Kitt cruised back across town to the carpark where Michael was waiting for him to return. The car drew up beside him.

"Of all the irresponsible behaviour. To leave me with my keys in the ignition and my doors open," Kitt fumed. "Those men had been stalking us, looking for an opportunity to breach my defences, and you gave it to them!"

Michael opened the driver's door. "Okay, I'm sorry…" he said as he got back in. "It won't happen again. I got distracted."

"I have already guessed the distraction," Kitt replied snippily. "Complaining about me to Devon is no excuse for your lack of consideration." His screen went blank and silent.

Michael sighed as he slammed the door shut behind him. He sat and waited for more complaints. But the small red screen remained stubbornly quiet. It was starting to get on his nerves.

"All right, Kitt…" he said finally. Still no response.

"Kitt…" Michael sighed. "Look, I said I was sorry. And I meant it."

But the car's voice screen remained stubbornly silent and blank. Michael sat back in his seat. "Look, I said I was sorry."

More silence. "Look, what more do you want from me?" Michael demanded finally.

"A little consideration would be a beginning," Kitt replied. "A care for my safety. After all, without me, you would be lost. You cannot battle Tanya Walker alone."

Michael shrugged. "I have a lot on my mind, and we've got a lot of work to do."

"If it were not for my expertise, you would be walking back to Los Angeles," Kitt replied.

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, I guess, if it weren't for you, I would be missing out on an important rendezvous. The whole point of this mission we're on."

He sighed. "But okay, I am very, very grateful to you."

"Our mission," Kitt replied shortly. "We are supposed to be a team. There is no I in team."

"Our mission," Michael accepted the correction. "Forgiven?"

"I suppose so," Kitt conceded. "After all, we're only human, right?"

Michael raised his brows at that. "Don't press your luck."

"It was just a thought…"

Michael didn't answer as he started the car and rolled quickly out of the carpark. They travelled down the highway until they reached the turnoff for the Rising Sun bar. Michael pulled into an angle park outside the front door.

"Do you think this is wise, Michael?" Kitt worried. "I cannot protect you once you go inside. Unless I crash through the walls of the building to rescue you."

The Trans Am sighed. "I would have preferred for you to have brought the comms link with you. Miss Barstow made it specifically for you. It is an unfortunate oversight on your part."

"Don't you worry about me," Michael replied. "If I need you, I'll holler."

"Very well," Kitt conceded grudgingly. "Be careful. Tanya Walker is not a woman to be trifled with. I suspect she has planned an unpleasant surprise for you. And no doubt it involves physical violence."

"Yeah, I surely know all about that," Michael replied as he opened the driver's door and got out. "But she won't sucker me a second time."

"Please be careful, all the same," Kitt counselled. "I suspect a trap."

"Thanks, Buddy…" Michael replied as he turned away.

Inside the bar, the jukebox was playing a plaintive Western tune. The place was crowded with people having a very good time. No one paid Michael much attention as he sauntered in, looking all around for any sign of Tanya.

He didn't expect to find her there, waiting for him. She wasn't that big a fool. Shooting him in the face was the closest she'd even come to doing her own dirty work.

Michael ignored all the patrons as he walked through the tables and right up to the bar area. He turned to stare at the four truck drivers who had raced against him. They were a hard-looking bunch who didn't seem at all welcoming to the man who'd beaten them at their own game.

Michael turned to them and smiled. "Hi, fellas. Nice race, huh." He waited for their reaction as he looked around the bar.

Dolan, the leader of the group, rose from his stool. "Well, let's talk about it outside. We don't want to make a mess of your pretty face in here." He grinned.

"Well, I'm sorry." Michael's smile widened. "But I'm here to meet a young lady. And you don't look like her."

Carney, another of the beaten men, smirked at him. "Miss Walker got the message. She sent us to pick you up."

Michael looked him over. "Tanya did that? You guys work for her, too?"

Dolan glared at him. "She suggested we show you what we think of outsiders coming into our little town and taking away our prize money. She wants us to teach you a few manners."

Michael shook his head. "Oh, didn't Tanya tell you, I'm donating my share of the prize money to the charity."

The driver got up, looking none too happy with Michael's attitude. "Yeah, well each one of us has got a little donation for you, too."

Dolan laughed as he turned to put aside his glass of beer. But the driver next to him put a hand to his shoulder. "No, no. I'm first."

Michael stood his ground. "Well, listen guys. I hate to mention this, but ah… I'm heavily trained in martial arts."

The rough men started laughing. Dolan pointed to him. "Martial arts! Now that is funny!"

All four of them lunged at their intended victim. The ensuing fight was short but brutal. The truckers soon found themselves outnumbered by one man and totally bemused as to how it all happened so fast and so violently. The local police rolled up to break up the aftermath of the fight as the bodies of the four truckers tumbled out into the street.

None of the dazed combatants noticed the tow truck that rolled into the parking lot. Certainly not Michael, who was still involved inside the bar, arguing with the irate manager who accused him of being bad for business. The tow truck driver got out and quietly hooked up the Trans Am he'd been ordered to remove from the parking lot and deliver to Tanya Walker.

※※※※※

Wilson and Tanya walked from the main Com Tron building as the tow truck went by, taking Kitt to a nearby factory building. They looked after it.

Wilson nodded to the guard beside him. "I want that car examined from top to bottom. Inside and out. Leave no bolt undone or screw not removed. I don't care how many pieces it ends up in."

"Yes, Sir!" The guard saluted before he hurried away.

"What's that going to tell us?" Tanya demanded to know crossly.

"Who Michael Knight is working for," Wilson replied shortly.

Tanya looked entirely unconvinced. "The car is going to tell us that? It can't talk."

Wilson sighed. "Well, even cars that are specially engineered and designed require stock parts and they have serial numbers. Benjamin's engineers should be able to give us a pretty good idea of where the work was done and by whom. It should prove quite informative. I suspect Mr Knight is only the front man for someone far bigger."

"If you say so…" Tanya shrugged. "Whoever they are, they're already short one smart and expensive car. We'll make sure Knight is next. I hate loose ends and things that make no sense."

They both smiled as they turned and walked away. They were well satisfied with their evening's work.

※※※※※

Devon sat behind his desk in his office. His disbelief and displeasure were almost palpable in equal measures. He could not tolerate what he had just heard.

"You're where?" he demanded to know down the telephone receiver he held to his ear.

He already knew the answer. But his chagrin at Michael's careless behaviour and rash disregard for all Devon's hard work made him want to reach through the phone and fasten his hands around the younger man's neck and squeeze.

"I'm in jail," Michael repeated with a sigh. "But don't worry about me. They let me have my one phone call. It's a trumped-up charge. Some guys set on me in the bar. I was only defending myself."

"It always was going to be a trumped-up charge where Tanya and her henchmen were concerned," Devon replied tightly. "You walked into her trap."

"Yeah, but it gets worse…" Michael looked around to be sure he wasn't being overheard. "Look, I'm dead serious. These people we're after are practically running the town. The cops are all in her back pocket. They only arrested me and one of the trucker guys I was fighting with. I figure he's just window dressing to make them look like they're doing their jobs."

Devon's tone became clipped. "Michael. Where is the Knight 2000?"

Michael had the grace to sound a little sheepish "I… I'm not sure. I was inside the bar. When the cops hauled me out, he was gone."

Devon's hand flexed tight on the receiver. "What do you mean you're not sure? Mr Knight practically went to his grave creating that marvellous machine. How can you call me long distance and tell me you've misplaced it."

"I didn't misplace it. The cops said they impounded it. The trouble is, I think Com Tron talked the sheriff into letting them check the car out."

"Congratulations," Devon sneered. "You've managed to live up to my every expectation regarding your careless behaviour."

"Hey! This is no time to be trading insults, Devon. What are we going to do?"

Devon rolled his eyes. "We? That's wonderful. Now that you're in a jam, it's we. A couple of days ago you practically drove over my foot to be on your own."

Michael raised one hand. "All right, all right. I'm sorry. I was a little bit hasty. But I—"

The cell door slammed open, and Deke walked in. "Your time's up, boy. Let's get back to the cell. I want my dinner."

Michael ignored him as he turned away. "Devon, I'm telling you that I'm counting on you. We've got 'em right where we want 'em if you come through."

Devon nodded. "It'll take me a while to get there. We may have to resort to other... means, temporarily."

"What do you mean by that?" Michael demanded to know. "Devon? Devon!' He turned on the waiting Deke who was watching him impatiently. "Hey, did you guys cut me off? Get him back! I demand another phone call."

Deke held the cell door open. "I'll give one to the coroner if you don't move it right now! I'm hungry!"

Michael glared at him. But he could see it was useless to make any more demands right now. He acquiesced to the cop's demands with ill grace and left the room. Deke slammed the door closed behind him.

※※※※※

Inside the Com Tron workshop, nothing was being accomplished beyond a mounting tide of frustration. It had been hours since the Trans Am had been towed in and they were no closer to any answers than they had been when they started.

An overly qualified team of auto experts buzzed around the machine like a swarm of ants. A man on the door had tried to drive a crowbar into metalwork without success. A second man, assisted by a third was now attempting to penetrate the hood with a diamond bit drill. Two more crewmen with acetylene torches are trying to burn their way into the car through the windows and trunk.

Tanya Walker stood nearby, impatiently watching everything unfold. She had been waiting for any kind of answer. But none of the highly paid men were having any kind of success.

Gray walked over to her with disgust on his face. "We've gone through three diamond bit drills. We haven't even put so much as a scratch on the thing."

Tanya planted her hands on her hips. "It's impossible. Just plain impossible. Michael Knight drove this car. There has to be a way in."

Wilson arrived hurriedly. "Perhaps I can explain it…" He held out a wire to Tanya.

She opened it and read the contents. "I don't understand what this means…"

Wilson shrugged. "The sheriff fingerprinted Knight when he was arrested. These are the results."

Tanya frowned at the wire. "What does this mean, no identification possible."

"Keep reading..." Wilson replied impatiently.

Tanya nodded then frowned. "Altered? I still don't understand."

"It means they were expertly done. But still not the man's own prints. I told you already. The man's a ghost."

Tanya stared at her henchman. "It's all unravelling. I can feel someone from a high level is breathing down our necks. It's time to get out. Take what we already have and leave."

Wilson looked incredulous. "A few days out from penetrating all of Com Tron's secrets? We stand to lose millions."

"We can go for the main one. The breakthrough chip. I have the access code for the bubble memory chip from Benjamin. It's worth more than all their other patents combined. We'll get it out of the engineering computer and fly out tonight. There are plenty more big fish like Benjamin for us to go after."

Wilson sighed. "Tanya... You're panicking over nothing. If he had any proof of anything, he wouldn't be wasting time in demolition derbies. Or letting himself get locked up. He'd tell the sheriff why he was here and what he's after."

His boss shook her head. "Trust me, I could feel it when I looked into his eyes. He's not an ordinary guy. He's far more dangerous. He's a man on a mission. They never stop unless they are stopped."

Her beautiful face hardened. "Now he has to be eliminated so he can't follow us. Send these people home and then you go get that Michael Knight out of jail while I start clearing out the records. Then I'll get that microchip design out of the computer."

Wilson still looked dissatisfied. "All right. If that's what you want. But I'm saying you're making a big mistake. But you're the boss." He shrugged as he turned away.

※※※※※

Back in the jail, Carney stared through the bars at the man in the cell next to his. "Hey, cowboy…"

Michael ignored him as he lay on his bunk, kicking his legs as he waited. He wasn't very good at it. He never had been.

He stared up at the ceiling and worried about Kitt and what was happening to him right now. He didn't realise the car was slowly taking on a human aspect in his mind. He could no longer view the Trans Am as an 'it' as he had first asserted to Devon.

It needled him he'd been too careless with Kitt's safety in his own need to see Tanya again and beat her at her own game. His hands curled into impotent fists. He hoped Kitt was all right and managing to hold his own against whatever they were throwing at him about now.

"Be cool, Buddy…" he whispered. "We're both gonna get out of this mess somehow. I just wish Devon would hurry up and get here!"

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Carney insisted as he got up and walked to the bars.

He looked sideways and then inched closer. "They all wanna know what that machine of yours is made of. We didn't even scratch it in the race."

Michael lifted his head and stared at him. Then he went back to staring at the ceiling. "Sit and spin," he replied crudely.

But the inaction was still chewing on him. He couldn't relax or rest. He sat up and jumped down from his bunk to pace the floor restlessly. He kept wondering what was happening to Kitt and where the heck was Devon?

Carney was still standing at the bars watching him. "You're just making it worse. Say, is this your first time in the can?"

Michael frowned at him. Obviously, the man was now going for sympathy and fake camaraderie to try and worm his secrets from him. He had a moment of grudging admiration for Tanya over the perverted loyalty of those who worked for her.

His lips twisted. "No," he replied. "I used to nose around for Army Intelligence back in 'Nam. I got caught once by the Cong."

Carney looked mildly impressed. "Yeah? What happened to you?"

"I had to punish them," Michael replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh, yeah…" Carney looked surprised, then did a double take, looking at his cellmate with a new kind of respect. "Look, I hope you didn't take what we did to you tonight, personally."

Michael put one hand on his forehead. "No, man. You look like you've already paid a pretty good price."

"You got any friends on the outside, at all? I mean, you did make the one call, but no one seems to have shown up for you."

Michael leaned on the bars of the cell door. "Yeah, well, I've got one friend."

"Hey, that's good to hear."

Michael sighed. "But we're not on the best of terms right now. I think I've pissed him off."

"Then, that's bad for you."

"Yeah…" Michael turned and rested back against the bars. "Just maybe I have two friends. I just gotta figure out if I need to get out of here to rescue that one or wait until the first one shows up."

"Choices, man…" Carney leaned his arms through the bars. "They can be a right bitch."

"They sure can…" Michael sighed as he went back to staring up at the ceiling of his cell and worrying about how Kitt was getting on and where the heck had they taken him?

※※※※※

Inside the Com Tron factory garage, Kitt sat quiet and watchful. He'd finally been left alone by the men who had tried everything to break into him. Even Tanya Walker and her henchmen had abandoned their pursuit of his secrets. Kitt couldn't help but feel rather proud of himself for holding off the assault on his most sensitive and secret parts.

"Michael is not the only one who can hold his own in a bar fight," he murmured as the anamorphic equalizer in his prow winked on.

He'd overheard everything Tanya had said and her desire to get Michael out of jail so she could eliminate him. "Not on my watch," he muttered.

Inside the car, the dash also burst into life and converted to Super. Then the microprocessor shifted from "NORMAL" to "PURSUIT." The brake lights went on as the powerful engine turned over and the transmission light shifted to low gear.

The headlights popped up as the car changed his mode to "AUTO CRUISE" and the gear stick moved into second gear itself. The accelerator slowly depressed and the car suddenly began to burn rubber as Kitt shot forward and headed for the garage doors which were closed and locked.

The doors shattered as if they were made of paper and fell all around in the wake of the Trans Am which disappeared quickly into the night. Anyone who had been around to see it leave would have been shocked to see a driverless car as it passed them and gathered speed.

※※※※※

Back in the jail, Michael moved from the window to lie on his cot again. Carney was still standing at the bars watching him. The man had gone from belligerent to deeply curious about his cell companion.

Michael settled himself on the lumpy mattress. "The other drivers. The ones that beat me up. They local boys?"

"Naw…" Carney looked disgusted. "We all got hired by Wilson, the new security chief. I heard about it in stir as I was getting my parole. They pay good and you don't have to break too many laws." He smirked. "Just a few heads now and then."

Michael pursed his lips. "Sounds great for a guy like you. But did you ever wonder why a nice polite electronics company needed to hire some strong-arm bully boys?"

"Hey!" Carney looked offended. "They had to dump a lot of people with big seniority to hire us. It helped that we could take care of ourselves. Keep everything nice and peaceful. No questions asked."

"Makes sense, I guess."

Carney shrugged as he ambled back to his bunk and lay down. "But I don't ask too many questions. It might get you answers you don't want. Pay's good and I do as I'm told."

"That makes even better sense," Michael admitted, as he went back to staring up at the ceiling.

The waiting was beginning to wear out his small store of patience. If something didn't happen, and soon, then he would be forced to make it happen.

※※※※※

Kitt cruised quickly down the main street. He scanned constantly, seeking places for clues and possible exits he could exploit. From his onboard map of the town, he knew exactly where Michael was being held. He just had to create the access to reach him.

"It's not as if I can walk in through the front doors and ask them to hand him over," he muttered.

Out in front of the police station, a Com Tron security car pulled up driven by Gray. Wilson got out of the passenger seat, leaving Gray behind to keep watch. Wilson hurried up the steps and entered the building.

Inside the cells, Carney was sitting up and reading a magazine while Michael appeared to be asleep. He figured closing his eyes would help him escape any more conversation with the other man. He wasn't interested in the felon's life story or his reasons for teaming up with the likes of Tanya Walker.

He didn't doubt that Maggie's husband had met his unfortunate fate at the hands of this man and his rough friends. A little murder wouldn't worry them. But he knew Tanya wouldn't hesitate to leave them behind to take the rap for that, and her other crimes when she split town.

At the front desk in the sheriff's office, Wilson pulled a document from his coat pocket. "Deputy, I have a court order for Mr Knight's release."

Deke accepted it. "Okay. I guess he's all yours." He sat up in his chair and signed the form. "I can't say I'm not glad to see the back of him. He's a very odd fish."

Outside the station, Kitt made his calculations and had arrived at the only solution. His lights changed and the Trans Am swerved to the left and gunned his engine. He hauled for all he was worth toward the side of the brick building.

Inside the cells, Michael gave up feigning sleep and rolled over. In the next moment, his eyes opened as he heard the screaming whine of an engine growing louder and closer.

Suddenly, the brick wall in front of his startled gaze exploded inwards, showering bricks everywhere. The sleek, black Trans Am filled the hole Kitt had just made as he roared forward to demolish the bars of Michael's cell as if they were nothing but soft cardboard.

"What the hell?" In his cell, Carney jumped up and cowered back into the corner.

In the sheriff's office, Deke leapt to his feet. "What the hell's going on back there?" He ran for the cell door and wrenched it open. Wilson followed him into the cell block.

Michael stumbled and fell over the debris of the jailbreak to land on Kitt's dusty hood. He clung to the upper edge as he stared in disbelief. "I don't believe it…"

Carney crowded up to his side of the bars. "Must be a drunk. See if he hurt himself."

"I won't ask how you did this…" Michael scrambled off his perch and made it to the driver's door. "But I'm sure glad to see you, Kitt. I was going stir crazy."

"You're welcome," Kitt replied tartly as he flung open the door.

"Who you talking to, man?" Carney demanded to know. "There's nobody in there…"

Deke rushed down the corridor and tried to insert his key into the locked cell door. "Hey, where you goin'? What in the..."

Wilson didn't bother to ask as he pulled his handgun and began to fire at the car he recognised as the one he'd left behind in the Com Tron warehouse. How it got here, he had no idea but he didn't have any time for useless questions.

He began firing random shots at Michael, hoping to slow him down. Michael ducked and scrambled into the machine and threw it in reverse, roaring back into the outside world.

"Them bullets are just bouncing off that windshield!" Carney shouted over the noise of ricocheting bullets. "Hey, man, watch out! You almost got me with that one!"

The Trans Am barrelled backwards out onto the main street and flashed past the Com Tron security car as Wilson rushed out the front and jumped into his car. "Knight's escaped! Let's go! Follow that Trans Am and step on it!" he ordered a startled Gray.

The man spun the car into a fast U-turn and took off in pursuit of the fleeing vehicle. But it was as if the other car had grown wings.

"It isn't any use trying to catch up with that machine," Wilson complained.

Gray glanced at him. "Then how do we stop him? He's got to be heading out of town. There's nothing else out this way."

"Oh, yes there is…" Wilson growled hardly, staring through the windscreen.

※※※※※