Chapter Ten
The Final Showdown
Aboard the helicopter, Wilson was fast running out of patience. "Where are you, Forty-One?"
"Just coming up to the airport turnoff."
"Oh, yeah. I see you. You've got him. He's just over the next rise."
"We've got him." Wilson smiled confidently at Gray next to him.
The other man took out a pump action shotgun from its rack and handed it to Wilson. "Here. Just in case he gets by."
Wilson shook his head. "No one survives a head-on collision with a semi." He pushed a button and pointed a powerful spotlight down on the car.
Kitt continued to barrel down the highway toward the airport. "We should be seeing him any minute," Michael commented.
"Mr Knight. This is foolhardy. I really must insist on assuming control. You could be killed." The light on the dashboard went from manual to automatic.
"Negative!" Michael responded drowsily. "I'm still driving this machine." Michael pushed the manual button back in again. The light reverts to manual control.
Kitt appealed to a higher power. "Devon! Michael is in no condition to be making decisions."
Devon sighed. "Kitt. I'm afraid as long as he's conscious and in the driver's seat, we have no choice. He is in charge."
"An absurd set of circumstances," the car replied. "How can I preserve his life when he will not allow me?"
"Give it up, Kitt," Michael advised. "It's too bad that the guy who designed you believed in the strength of the individual. We're going to put that to the test."
Coming from the other direction, the truck driver got on his radio. "I got him in sight! He's comin' over the rise now."
On the helicopter, Wilson gloated as he glared down along the beam of the powerful light. "Remember, twenty-five thousand big ones if you nail him."
The driver chuckled. "Consider him nailed."
Wilson looked down. "He isn't stopping. He isn't even slowing down."
"The man's nuts!" Gray commented, looking down.
"I hope so…" Wilson worried.
Inside the Trans Am, Michael grinned. "Any last thoughts, Kitt?"
"I could wish that you hadn't put it quite that way. I have only just begun to live…"
Michael began to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "It's not like a man gets to take on a semi-truck every day. Now I'm about to do it again…"
"We are about to do it again," Kitt replied stiffly. "And I suspect we are both about to regret it…"
The Trans Am was quickly advancing from the left. The truck was barrelling in from the right. Closer... closer... and closer...
"He's heading right for it," Wilson commented, staring down into the impending collision. "He's got guts, I'll give him that."
"You'll soon need magnifying glasses and some tweezers to find him," Gray commented with satisfaction.
"Or a blotter," Wilson added grimly.
The powerful spotlight revealed an intersection with a left turn toward the airport. It was even money which vehicle would make it first.
At the last possible moment. Michael pressed the button marked "TURBO BOOST" and Kitt became airborne once more. He flew right over the top of the truck, leaving the trucker speechless. The cigar dropped from his slack lips as the truck hurtled beneath the flying car. He screwed around to look back behind him.
Gray stared down, marvelling. "That car just jumped clean over the truck! It ain't possible! If I didn't see it with my own eyes…"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Wilson snapped.
Michael turned in his seat from staring behind him. "Now that's about as close as you can get."
"Tell me about it," Kitt commented drily.
He'd felt something give deep inside him. He kept the information to himself. Devon was out of reach and Kitt didn't wish to give Michael any more excuses with which he could finally end his insane quest.
Wilson growled at his pilot. "Take her down. It's up to us now to nail him."
Framed in the beam of the powerful spotlight, Kitt was a sitting duck as the helicopter descended to intercept it. Wilson poked the shotgun out the window and fired at the car.
Michael looked up as the shot bounced harmlessly off Kitt's bodywork as he continued down the road. He continued trying to hold himself together as the car drove towards the airport.
The helicopter dropped to run parallel and very close to the car as Wilson lifted the shotgun again and fired point-blank at Michael's head through the open side of the copter. The myriads of lethal pellets ricocheted back into the helicopter's undercarriage.
"He hit us!" Wilson shouted.
"No, you hit us!" Gray replied.
"Shut up and make another pass," Wilson ordered.
"You want to make another pass; you can jump out!" Gray replied. "We'll be lucky to make the airport." Without waiting for orders, he took the helicopter back up and away from danger as they trailed fuel and sparks from a ruptured tank.
Kitt continued to drive down the highway. The sign for Millston Airport loomed on the left. Michael took the turnoff without hesitation.
Wilson and Gray made it to the tarmac. They landed behind Tanya's jet plane, which was parked, waiting to take to the air.
Tanya's car was stopped next to the jet. She grabbed her cases from the car and ran up to Wilson as he got out of the helicopter.
"Did you get him?" she demanded to know.
"Does it look like it?" Wilson replied, indicating the oncoming Trans Am. "Let's get that aircraft rolling."
"Not until I've finished off Knight," Tanya complained.
Wilson seized her by the upper arms. "Forget it! Let's go!" He hustled her toward the plane with Gray close behind.
"Let's get out of here fast!" Tanya shouted to the pilot over the roar of the plane's engines.
Kitt veered to the right and ran toward the runway. "Better let me take over," he advised. "Your reflexes probably can't handle any more stress."
"It's two out in the bottom of the ninth, Kitt," Michael replied as the plane began to taxi to ready for take-off. "I'll finish the game myself."
"I'll bet nobody talks that way to Tommy Lasorda," the car complained as they swerved onto the runway and began to chase down the plane.
The jet reached the end of the runway and turned around for take-off. Michael swung the car toward the plane and aimed toward it. They are both now running at each other from opposite ends of the field.
As they drew closer, Michael held his nerve, even though he flinched sideways as the plane's wing went over the top of Kitt and the end blew off in a shower of sparks and flames.
As Kitt turned off, the plane did a turn and came to a stop with its burning wing. The door opened and Tanya, Wilson, Gray and the pilot stumbled out and ran for their lives. Behind them, the plane blew up in a ball of flames. All four fell to the tarmac, pushed over by the force of the explosion.
They all sat up and looked back in shock. Wilson recovered quickly. "Run for the hangar. We gotta find another way out!"
Tanya stood up. "I'll get you a way out of here that nothing can stop." She turned and ran for Kitt. She pulled a gun from the pocket of her luxurious fur coat.
"Tanya!" Wilson called. "Come back here! Let's get out of here!"
Inside the car, Michael was barely hanging on. "It's done, Kitt. And now it's all yours."
"Thank you, Michael," the car replied as it shifted from manual to automatic. "I can only hope your stubbornness has not cost you your life."
Tanya ran up to the driver's window and pointed her gun at the recumbent figure in the driver's seat. "You lose, Michael. I always come out on top. It's time for you to die, again."
Michael gathered himself enough to shout, "No, Tanya! Don't!"
But the woman wasn't listening as she pulled the trigger. The bullet ricocheted off Kitt's bodywork and struck her in the heart. She collapsed in a heap, dead before she hit the ground. Michael stared down at her and shook his head.
Three police cars, sirens screaming and red lights flashing, poured onto the runway, followed by government vehicles. Officers and FBI agents surrounded the two henchmen. Wilson and Gray knew they now had nowhere to run and gave up easily.
In the distance, the pilot of a jet marked with the Knight Industries logo demanded that the tower give him immediate permission to make an emergency landing. It was quickly granted by a startled controller. The jet descended and readied to land.
In the Trans Am, Michael leaned back against the headrest of his seat. "Now it's finally over, Kitt…" He sighed, as he frowned at the chaotic scene before his eyes closed.
"And not before time," Kitt replied. "Now I'm going to get you to a hospital as soon as possible," the car replied as he changed from "NORMAL CRUISE" to "AUTO CRUISE" and drove away from the airport at top speed, leaving the authorities to clean up the mess.
Descending from the steps of his jet, Devon paused to watch the car lights vanish into the distance. He knew there was no point in trying to go after Kitt. His was the singular mission to ensure Michael's ultimate survival. No one could do any more for the severely wounded man.
"Be safe…" he muttered grimly.
He turned back to take immediate control of the chaos around him. It was time to finally settle the score with Tanya Walker and her henchmen. He barked orders and got the attention of the law enforcement officers who were arguing over which of them had jurisdiction. The media attention for catching such world-class villains would be huge and none of them wanted to share the glory.
"You'll all get a mention in the papers," Devon said grimly. "But you will take your orders from me."
His lips compressed as he walked over to the fur-coated body on the ground. In life, Tanya Walker had been a nasty, manipulative woman who would go to any lengths to win, including cold-blooded murder. In death, she looked as if she was simply asleep. Her blond hair blew around her beautiful face in the cool night breeze.
"Some are born to sweet are born to endless night…" Devon softly quoted further lines from Wilton's favourite William Blake poem.
He shook his head as he turned away from the sight of all that wasted beauty. He walked across to Wilson and Gray who standing in handcuffs awaiting their fate. Neither man looked willing to talk, but Devon didn't care. He knew where to press to make the maximum impact in the quickest time.
"Now…" he said in a harsh tone, looking from one to the other. "Which of you two miscreants wants to be the first to confess your many sins and cut yourself a break on your sentencing? Or do you both want to end up like your boss over there?"
He waved a hand back at Tanya's lifeless body. "I'm easy in my mind, either way. You two need to remember that Nevada state law carries the death penalty for murder. You both caused or were accessories to, the brutal murders of two police detectives. Michael Long and Albert Muntzy. And Nevada has a especial dislike of cop killers…" He smiled grimly as he allowed his comment to sink in.
※※※※※
Once they reached the centre of town again, Kitt pulled to a tyre-screeching stop before the front of a large, multi-storied medical building. He honked the horn and opened his driver's door.
Michael stirred and came to slightly. "Where are we?"
Kitt quickly ran another series of diagnostics on him. His findings were not good, but at least they hadn't fallen any further. The brief rest on the way back from the airport had done Michael some good.
"We've arrived at the emergency hospital," he said. "They should be able to take care of you. You need to get out and wait for someone to come for you."
"Thanks…" Michael muttered. "For everything…"
"While you're in there, see if they've got a room for me," Kitt replied a little tartly.
Michael rolled his eyes at the screen. "What's your problem now? I allowed you to take control, didn't I?"
"My issue is acute exhaustion…" the car groaned as he honked again insistently.
Two medical attendants came running out to Michael as he got out and tottered away from the car. They loaded him onto a nearby gurney and rushed him inside. Kitt watched and waited until the doors closed behind them. Then he moved off slowly, searching for a quiet corner of the carpark where he could hide out and rest.
He was well aware there was something wrong with him, deep inside. That last crazy stunt of leaping over the semi had torn something loose. Kitt knew he must put through a call to Miss Barstow. He hoped she was still working at Knight HQ. He needed a second opinion.
Once he was safely hidden, he would run his diagnostics as he waited for Devon to arrive to take charge. And for Michael to recover and return.
Then they all needed to have a very long and serious talk about their future together. One thing Kitt was intending to recount to his mercurial pilot was the literal meaning of the word 'team...'
※※※※※
Early the next morning, Devon found Kitt in the hospital carpark. Bonnie Barstow had directed him to the car's location, using the comms link Devon had brought with him. He unlocked the driver's door and got in.
"Good morning, Devon," the car greeted him formally. "It's good to see you again. It is such a relief to no longer feel so alone."
Devon nodded. "Good morning. It's good to see you are still in one piece. How are you, Kitt? Or shouldn't I ask? Dr Barstow said you have been consulting with her throughout the night. She's very worried about you."
"Yes. I have used the time to isolate the internal issues which now preclude me from being able to function under my own power. I barely made it here before I finally broke down," Kitt replied in a deeply dissatisfied tone.
He sighed. "I am afraid Mr Knight was far too reckless with me. I might be a unique, state-of-the-art, one-of-a-kind, fully computerised, well-oiled machine, but I am not completely indestructible. He seems to have forgotten that single, salient point."
"But he did finish the task he set for himself," Devon replied slowly. "He has eliminated Tanya Walker, and her henchmen will all go to jail. And we now have real-time proof of the scope of your higher capabilities."
"But at what cost?" Kitt demanded to know.
"That we will not discover until we have returned you to Knight Headquarters for Dr Barstow to begin working on you. She has already made her feelings known about young Mr Knight. I suspect theirs will be a thorny relationship."
"You saw the good sense in asking her to stay?" Kitt asked. "Thank you. I am most grateful. That is the high point of this very sorry day. Apart from you, she is the only other human being I can truly count on, now Wilton Knight has gone."
"Thank you, Kitt," Devon replied solemnly.
He sighed. "Right now, I have demanded a meeting with a clueless billionaire about his total lack of decent security measures. It will be a very uncomfortable meeting for him. Then I will go and see Michael. He too needs to eat a good serving of humble pie. He has lost a great deal of blood, but his doctors tell me he is going to live. Thanks to your prompt actions."
"I am pleased Michael will survive. That is one meeting I would like to sit in on," Kitt replied enviously. "He does need to understand the literal meaning of the word, team. Used as a verb, it means to act together to achieve something."
"Well, together as a team, you did achieve the end of Miss Walker and her men…" Devon held up his left wrist and pulled down his cuff-linked shirt sleeve to expose the comms link he was wearing. "And with this, you can sit in on our meeting. I have already ordered a Knight Industries semi to drive up here and collect you as soon as Michael is well enough to travel. We shall all go to the airport together."
"Thank you, Devon," Kitt said with satisfaction. "I shall look forward to seeing Dr Barstow again. Her soft touch is both deft and sure. I will be happy to place myself entirely in her hands. I do feel the need for a short sabbatical from an over-surfeit of dangerous men and violent, reckless behaviour."
"I agree." Devon smiled. "You're very welcome, Kitt. I know Dr Barstow is looking forward to having you back under her care. Take very good care of yourself in the meantime. I'll return to check back on you later," he replied as he got out of the car and locked the door again before he walked slowly away toward the hospital.
"Meanwhile, I shall sit here and wait. I may play a little Vivaldi to soothe my ragged nerves…" Kitt commented with a sigh.
※※※※※
"How's Kitt?" Michael asked as soon as Devon walked into his hospital room. "Have you seen him? Is he all right?"
"Yes, I have seen him," Devon replied, closing the door behind him. "I am afraid you have pushed his limits far beyond what was workable or even feasible. He is now incapable of driving himself anywhere. I did try to warn you that not all his functions have been fully road-tested. You took some very foolhardy and dangerous risks."
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry for that," Michael said as he moved uncomfortably in his bed. "But Tanya and her henchmen needed to be stopped."
Devon drew up a chair beside the bed and sat down. "They did and you achieved that. But at what cost?"
"You can fix Kitt," Michael countered. "You made him into what he is now. But he's still just a car. All you need is time and a good mechanic. You did want me to test his limits. I'm happy I did that."
Devon sighed. "I was afraid you still do not get it. Kitt is much more than 'just a car' as you so plainly put it. If you'd given him half a chance to prove himself, he may have surprised you."
"I don't like surprises," Michael complained. "How soon can I get out of here? I'm already sick of lying in this bed staring up at the ceiling. It's worse than being in jail."
"Then let this be a salient lesson in not trying to over-reach your limits in future. Know when it is time to quit and allow someone else to be in charge."
"Thanks…" Michael scowled at him. "I think!"
"As soon as you are declared fit enough to travel, then we shall return to Knight HQ together in the jet. Kitt will have to be ferried back aboard a semi-truck. His dignity will suffer, but there it is."
"Geez…" Michael frowned as he settled back against his pillows and looked suitably sheepish. "I guess I really do owe him an apology. I didn't think –"
"Precisely!" Devon interrupted, well satisfied that he had finally gotten through to Wilton's impulsive young protégé. "Now, let us discuss the next few days of your recovery and how you may put them to good use…" He sat back in his chair and smiled at Michael as he began to lay out his plans.
※※※※※
Two days later, William Benjamin opened the door and walked into Michael's hospital room. The billionaire microchip developer was looking very put out and angry. He shut the door behind him with a snap and turned to frown at the man watching him calmly from the bed.
"Good morning," Michael said cordially.
"Yes, well…" Benjamin grumbled. "Good morning, young man."
"What can I do for you, Mr Benjamin?" Michael asked as if he didn't already know.
The other man frowned at him. "I was told you're the one who put an end to Tanya and her schemes to rob me blind. So, I decided to come and see you about it."
He advanced into the room. "Yesterday, I was forced to endure a very tense meeting with someone called Devon Miles," he continued gruffly. "He chewed me right out about my levels of security and personnel screening. He demanded I change everything. I didn't enjoy meeting with him. Not one bit. I'm not used to being spoken to in that dismissive way."
His frown deepened and he looked uncomfortable. "The man had the gall to demand that I think with the God-given brain above my waist from now on!" His cheeks reddened.
"Sorry about that," Michael replied, not looking sorry at all. "Devon certainly does have a way with words. And he doesn't mince them to make them go down any easier."
"Yes, well…" Benjamin folded his arms as he walked to the bedside. "I have accepted that I may have been more than a little blinded by Tanya's beauty and, ah… experience."
His face hardened. "But then there's you. You show up, uninvited, at my demolition rally and carry all before you with a fabulous car. Then you vanished as quickly as you appeared. Just who are you people, and what's all this about Tanya being an industrial spy? I didn't want to believe it. Not my Tanya. She really cared about me. I'm sure of that."
"The only thing you could be sure was real about Tanya was her name." Michael lifted his uninjured shoulder. "What did Devon tell you?"
"That she's spent quite some time swindling millions out of other rich men like me," Benjamin replied grimly. "He showed me the proof and put through a call to some guy called Charles Acton. He told me Tanya was nothing more than a two-timing cheat and he was glad she was dead. He said she took him for millions."
He dropped his belligerent stance and passed a weary hand over his eyes. "Miles refused to tell me exactly how she died."
He scanned Michael's closed expression. "Do you know how she died?"
"It was an unfortunate accident," Michael replied evenly. "She finally walked into the path of something she couldn't avoid."
"That's a bald statement," Benjamin complained. "Miles demanded that I allow him to do all the work on my security protocols. He said he specialises in that area and he will bring everything right up to date so something like this doesn't happen again."
"Good to know." Michael nodded. "There's no one better at it."
"And your car?" Benjamin asked. "What about that? Is it still for sale? I'll give you a good price. My technicians can't stop talking about it. They're saying it's indestructible and impenetrable."
"Maybe, but it never was for sale," Michael replied. "It was a means to an end to catch Tanya and make her pay for her crimes."
"Whatever you were asking, I'll double it," Benjamin offered. "Triple it, even."
"The car is still not for sale," Michael replied firmly. "Not at any price. Not now. Not ever."
"Why not?" Benjamin grouched. "Everything has a price. It's just a car. You can't be that attached to it. You almost destroyed it."
"Yeah, and I already regret that part." Michael shook his head slowly. "But he's not for sale because he's my friend," he finally admitted. "And a man doesn't sell his friends. No matter what the price."
"Well…" Benjamin stared at him. "That's a rather odd way of putting it. A car for a friend, I see…" His look said he wondered if Michael had sustained some kind of traumatic brain injury.
He shook his head. "I guess you can't blame me for trying. But I am grateful to you for stopping Tanya before she could steal all my new designs. If there's anything I can do for you in return before you leave town…"
Michael stared hard at the older man. "Well, now that you mention it. There is one thing you can do that would mean a lot to me…"
※※※※※
The next morning, Michael put a phone call through to Maggie to ask her to come and see him. She soon arrived, full of curiosity and questions.
"I've just dropped Buddy off at school," she said. "I didn't think a hospital room was a good place for him. But he begged me to let him come with me. He was so excited that you haven't forgotten about him."
"He's a neat kid," Michael replied, as he pushed himself up in the bed. "A visit would've been fine by me. I'm going stir-crazy in this place with nothing to do but count the cracks in the ceiling plaster."
He shook his head. "But I wanted to talk to you alone. I… have some news for you. Good news, not bad," he added hastily.
"What is it?" Maggie hurried to sit in the chair beside the bed. "I could do with some good news. I've been back to the bar, but that stingy manager has refused to give me my old job back. So, I've got to find a new one, and soon."
Michael reached out to take her hand in his. "Remember I asked you to let me help change your luck. I knew I could. All you needed to do was give me a chance to prove it to you."
Maggie frowned. "Yes, but I don't understand…"
"I've had a visit from a very foolish man who has finally seen the error of his ways by trusting Tanya Walker to run things for him. He allowed her to fire all the good people and keep the bad."
"I heard she was dead," Maggie replied. "But I didn't really believe it. Is it true? Is she dead?"
"She managed to shoot herself, out at the airport a couple of nights ago," Michael hedged with the truth. "So, it is true. You don't have to worry about her and her kind anymore. Things are going back to the way they used to be before she came to town."
He squeezed her hand. "And Wilson has already thrown Gray under the bus for murdering your husband and my old partner, Muntzy. He wanted to get the better deal before Gray ratted him out for his crimes. No honour among thieves, I guess. Without Tanya to tell them what to do, they turned on each other."
"Oh, thank you…" Maggie sighed with tears on her lashes. "That's wonderful news. I knew I was right all along. Tony wouldn't have left us like that. He was never that kind of guy."
"There's more…" Michael released her hand. "You said Com Tron was a relatively happy family back then. It can be again. And Mr Benjamin has agreed to give you your old job back with a substantial raise and all the fringe benefits like full medical and life insurance. And he's started up a college fund for Buddy."
Maggie's hand crept up to her mouth. "You didn't… You couldn't… I mean, how?"
Michael grinned. "Let's just say I know people in some pretty high places. Bigger and a whole lot meaner than Benjamin. I just pulled in a favour or two…"
"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" Maggie jumped up to hug him tightly. "Luce was so right! You are my silver bullet and my fairy godmother!"
"Hey… Less of the mother talk…" Michael chuckled as he returned her hug, despite the pain it caused him in his damaged shoulder.
He pulled back to look down into her smiling face. "And the next time you come to see me, bring Buddy with you. He's a cool kid."
"I'll do that," Maggie promised with tears in her eyes. "He's longing to see you again. He can't stop talking about your car. He said, when he grows up, he's going to get himself one just like it."
"Great ambition," Michael replied. "But I'll have to tell him there's only one car like mine, and I'm keeping him…"
※※※※※
Three days later, Maggie hovered anxiously at the foot of the bed. "Michael. Are you sure you're all right? I mean, you're barely out of bed."
Michael sat on the side of the bed as the nurse finished dressing his wound. "Yeah. I'm a little shaky still and a bit sore. But the doc says I'm okay to be mobile as long as I take it slow. I gotta get out of here before I go mad."
"That's okay," Maggie replied as she walked around the end of the bed. "I don't know what I'm going to do with Buddy now that you're leaving."
Michael smiled. "Aw, I'd keep him. He's a real good kid."
"You know what I mean. He needs a man. I can see that. I thought I could just go on not caring..."
"...and not looking?" Michael completed her sentence softly.
"Stupid, huh?" Maggie grimaced. "Here I had a prime candidate right under my nose and I chased him away because I was stupid."
Michael shook his head. "Well, don't consider it a permanent condition."
Maggie brightened. "You mean that? I mean, you might come back to see us?"
"You and Buddy can both count on it. Tell him it's a promise." Michael reached out and hugged her close.
As Maggie drew back, she said, "You know he… Um, he was hoping you would take him for one last ride before you finally leave. All he can talk about, besides you, is your fabulous Trans Am that can do things no other car can."
"Yeah, well, that might be one small problem…" Michael looked sheepish.
※※※※※
A few hours later, he was seated on the passenger side of Kitt. Devon was in the driver's seat, looking none too pleased with Wilton's overly impulsive protégé.
"Only you could have dented this unique car," he commented grimly, as they were being towed into the grounds of the airport by a truck emblazoned with the Knight Industries logo. "You put everything in jeopardy with your recklessness."
"Hey, look. I've already said I'm sorry," Michael apologised. "Nothing's perfect. Not even Kitt."
"I was perfect until you got your hands on me," Kitt replied tartly. "I cannot stress too firmly my desire to mould you into a pilot I can have faith in and trust."
"Aw, give it up, Buddy," Michael complained. "We both know you got more than a little thrill out of taking on the bad guys and winning. Admit it, you sneakily liked it."
"I will do no such thing!" Kitt replied in an offended tone.
"Suit yourself." Michael shrugged as he turned to Devon. "When do I get it back?"
Devon exhaled roughly. "Who said anything about getting it back?"
"Devon. It's my car," Michael explained patiently. "I have the registration."
"Don't remind me."
"You know, now that I'm recovered, I'd like to be getting on with my work soon."
Devon's lips thinned. "I would assume that having disposed of Tanya and her friends; you'd be on your way to getting on with whatever passes for your life."
Michael stared at him. "Is that a fact? Well, never assume anything about me because I'll prove you wrong every time."
"Well, one can only hope for the best, you know. I'd hoped you'd had quite enough adventure for now."
Michael smiled. "Well, I hate to ruin your day, and rain on your parade, but..."
"Yes?" Devon questioned with resignation, frowning at the younger man.
"While I was laid up in that blasted hospital bed, I had time to think. I have plans for my future that include my car. Plans you'll wanna hear."
"Plans. I see…" Devon mused.
"Devon…" Kitt said in a deeply distrustful tone. "Surely you cannot be considering such a proposal?"
"I doubt I will be given a choice," Devon replied.
"Now you're finally getting it!" Michael grinned. "You might find I'm not such a primitive, after all."
Devon sighed. "Somehow, I doubt that."
"I have no doubt at all!" Kitt added for good measure. "And you may have my registration, Michael. But you do not own me!" The car subsided into a grim silence.
Michael patted the super dash. "Don't worry," he said to Devon. "He'll come around. He likes a little time to sulk to make you feel bad enough that you end up apologising to him."
"I do not sulk!" Kitt shot back. "My silences are a means to underscore my disapproval."
"Same thing, Buddy!" Michael told him.
"It is not!" Kitt fumed.
"I am surrounded by unruly children…" Devon sighed.
The tow truck pulled up next to the Knight Industries jet. Both men got out of the car.
"Very well," Devon replied with resignation. "Since you are insisting on claiming ownership of our car, step aboard my jet and we'll discuss our options."
"Fine with me." Michael nodded. "But you ain't changing my mind."
They walked to the jet as workers, wearing overalls with the Knight Industries logo, began preparing the car to be winched up into the waiting semi. Soft strains of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' began to float on the warm morning air from Kitt's open windows.
Once aboard the jet, Michael settled into the luxurious seating with a sigh. "I could get used to this," he commented, looking all around. "Do you always travel like this?"
"Don't get too comfortable," Devon advised, as he walked back from giving his orders to the pilot. "You might not be staying that long with Knight Industries." He settled into the seat opposite to Michael's.
The jet taxied smoothly and then took off, leaving Millston and all its bad memories below and soon far behind. Michael wasn't sorry to see the back of the place, apart from one pretty lady and her sweet little boy.
He sighed as he faced Devon. "Now then… about my car." He wasn't about to back down from the fight to come.
"Well, simply stated, Wilton Knight was my friend as well as my employer," Devon replied seriously.
"You really don't like the whole idea of this project, do you?"
"No, I don't. But my legacy will be that his final dream will be pursued, like it or not. Faithfully pursued."
He sat forward earnestly. "Of course, your options are still open. You don't have to –"
"Devon…" Michael raised a denying hand. "Forget it. The old man wanted me, and he got me. It was his dying request. And now you're stuck with me. You could say that I've seen the light."
"Yes, I was afraid of that. But your mission was to rid the world of Tanya and her friends. The rest of his dream would bore you to tears."
Devon began to lay out the facts. "The majority of our work here involves legal research, class action suits. Strictly bureaucratic stuff." He was pleased to note that Michael had rolled his eyes and was now staring up at the ceiling.
"What else?" Michael finally asked.
"What else?" Devon repeated with resignation.
"Yeah, the part he wanted me for."
"Well…" Devon hedged. "Mr Knight also believed that under certain circumstances direct action might be the only feasible solution. That's what the Knight 2000 was designed for."
Devon compressed his lips. "The pilot programme consists of one man and one car." He laughed quickly. "Absurd, really. My friend had often pictured himself in that role, but his years and state of health counted against him. Then he saw you…"
"Only a fool would want to take on such a thing," Devon added when Michael didn't reply.
Michael stared ahead for several moments and then said, "I was supposed to be that man, wasn't I?"
"Well, he seemed to think that you were singularly well qualified," Devon conceded. "To go it alone, as he put it."
Devon stared at him. "But who could expect it of you? I mean, you barely came through this misadventure with your life. Not to mention the damage to the Knight 2000. Kitt was most informative about every one of your rash and impulsive actions."
"Yeah, but I got the job done." Michael shook his head. "I've spent years of my life fighting criminals of one type or another. I've been banging my head against bureaucracy, red tape and indifference. I've spent more time and energy fighting to try and do my job than actually doing it."
He sighed. "I guess if I were totally sane, I'd have quit years ago. But now this. It's a loner's dream. I've had it all handed to me on a silver platter. A completely free hand and the world's most fantastic car. All the money and resources of the Knight Foundation, and most of all, the best chance I'll ever get to prove that one man really can make a difference."
"Such fine words and dedication," Devon commented drily as he removed the stopper from the neck of a whiskey decanter at his elbow. "I was afraid that would be your new attitude…" He poured two glasses of the amber liquid.
Michael stared at him. "I don't think we're ever going to get along too well, Devon. But you're straight and you're honest. And you know I'm what Wilton Knight wanted. So you've got no choice about me. Not until I decide to leave. And that may be a long time coming."
He smiled. "But, if or when I do, I'm taking my car with me. That's a given."
Devon nodded in resignation as he handed Michael a glass. "Well, shall we drink to what could be the start of..."
"Of what?" Michael asked suspiciously as he took the glass.
"One man's dream…"
"Then to our future. However, it may turn out and no matter who it may take us up against. Or where…"
Devon smiled as he clinked glasses with the man Wilton Knight saw such promise in. "I can drink to that…"
He nodded. For once, they were in complete agreement. He doubted such mutual accord would last for very long…
※※※※※
The next day dawned clear and warm with a soft breeze from the distant ocean. It played and rustled through the impressive stand of English oak trees that stood as mute sentinels over a small collection of neatly kept graves enclosed by a wrought iron fence. In accordance with his wishes, a very small number of people stood in attendance at Wilton Knight's funeral.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, amen…" the minister standing at the head of the newly dug grave intoned solemnly.
Then he leaned over and pushed a button that activated the straps holding the coffin aloft on a cradle. Wheels turned silently and the coffin began to sink out of sight. Michael and Devon stood side by side, looking down at the plain, cedar wood coffin as it was lowered slowly into its final resting place.
"Slán, mo chara. Téigh le Dia... Go with God…" Devon murmured as he dropped a blood red rose into the grave. "You will never be forgotten…"
Michael watched him with sympathy. "I figure the old man was really loaded, but his tastes were real simple, weren't they?" He indicated the plain wood coffin as it disappeared.
"Yes…" Devon looked up and around at the view. "Wilton loved this peaceful corner of his property. Its eternal serenity appealed to him." He shook his head. "The graves were already here when he bought the place as his base of operations and his home."
He turned to stare at the house in the distance. "He bought it for a song because the property came with a rather tragic past. It had been built as a wedding gift for an extremely wealthy young couple whose sad lives ended all too soon. The place was said to have been haunted by their wretched ghosts and had been abandoned for years."
He raised his shoulders. "Wilton told me he never saw or heard anything. He was determined to change the house's future for the better and he succeeded."
"And you, Devon?" Michael asked as they turned from the grave. "How did you end up here? I figure no one shot you in the face to get you here."
"That is another long story for another time," Devon replied as he shook his head. "Suffice it to say, I also found my place and home here. As you will for as long as you stay with us."
"Look, I ain't making any promises…" Michael held up one hand. "I mean, living with you full time is gonna take some getting used to…" He grinned.
Devon returned his smile as they walked down the hill back to the real world. "Just so you're aware, I've hired Dr Barstow to serve as Kitt's full-time personal mechanic," he said. "I have a distinct feeling we are going to need such skills in the future."
"Dr Barstow?" Michael queried with a frown. "Don't think I've met him. Who's he?"
"Dr Bonnie Barstow is a very highly qualified young woman," Devon replied as they neared the house. "You would do well to remember that and accord her skills the respect they are due."
His lips thinned. "After the recent damage you caused to Kitt, I do think you are going to need to take full advantage of them. She is not very pleased with you."
"Ah, I see…" Michael grinned as they entered the house. "The chick with the long dark hair. The one who always looked at me like she was ready to kill me for touching her car. My car."
"Our car," Devon corrected as he led the way into his office. "But yes, that is Dr Barstow. She's waiting for you out in the warehouse. She wants to go over the Knight 2000 with you. She has a few grievances she wishes to air."
He sat down behind the desk and opened the bottom drawer to extract the bottle of Irish whiskey and the two crystal gasses. "But first, a toast to Wilton is in order."
He poured two measures and passed one to Michael as he came to hitch one hip onto the corner of the oak desk. Devon raised his tumbler. "Sláinte…"
"What?" Michael asked as they clinked glasses. "What was that?"
"A little taste of my past…" Devon replied as he settled back in his chair. "You asked how I ended up here." He stared down into his whiskey. "Well, that's quite a story, if you've a mind to listen…"
"Well, we got nothing but time, right now…" Michael replied as he hooked forward a nearby chair and sat down. "I can't go anywhere, or fight any crime until my car gets fixed. Dr Bonnie Barstow can wait a little longer to chew me out."
He grinned. "No doubt, Kitt will have a few choice words for me too. So, I'm not in any hurry to go out there…"
He held up his glass and settled back. "Go on, Devon. Tell me more…"
"It was all a very long time ago…" Devon shook his head slowly. "I first met Wilton Knight on one cold, dark night when we were both serving in France, just before the end of the Second World War."
He huffed an ironic laugh as he settled into his tale. "Wilton often said, 'One man can make a difference.' And he set out to prove it."
He raised his shoulders. "I thought he was completely mad, but he drew me in with his ideals and inexhaustible drive to succeed. You see, Wilton had this crazy idea of making a great deal of money once the war was over, so he could then set up his dream project. Something he'd decided to call, The Foundation for Law and Government. We came to know it as FLAG…"
※※※※※
Sláinte mhaith, mo chara!
THE END - AN DEIREADH
"The timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness.
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory.
And tomorrow is today's dream…"
Khalil Gibran