In a nondescripit looking warehouse west of the Arkansas river in Tulsa, operation headquarters had been set up. Past rows of tables neatly laid out with weapons, explosives, and electronics, a man in black shivered involuntarily as he picked up the phone. His bosses were on the line, and would call for his report shortly. He was keenly aware they were not used to failure. They paid excellent money, expected thorough coverage, and were used to getting results the first time. He didn't understand what had happened himself. The operation had had layers of backups, and was meticulously planned. It should have worked. The elimination of a simple vehicle was something that should have been easy. He didn’t believe he had become complacent, but still could not understand what had gone wrong. He only hoped he would get another chance. His predecessor had once had a small slip-up during a relatively simple operation, the securing of a patent. Unfortunately, the process was not secure, and news of the product leaked out during the operation. It was widely recognized as an urban legend that the invention had existed, and the inventor had died under mysterious circumstances, but the news had been leaked, spurring some serious investigations into the subject. The object of the operation had been only 90% accomplished. His predecessor had vanished shortly after that.

A time zone away, a deep voice boomed across the darkened table, its source shrouded in shadow. The task lighting at each seat provided only enough light for each of the 6 in attendance to see a small computer screen and write notes. All that any could see of the others was a silhouette fading into black at the neck. The effect was amplified by the black furniture and the black clothing each wore, including the mask covering each attendees face. It was standard uniform for a meeting. None of the attendees knew what any of the others looked like.

The automated conference system made the connection. There was no delay or salutation. Only the voice booming out "How could even the backup plan fail? It was foolproof! What did the sentries see?"

The voice from the warehouse came over the speakerphone. It wavered at first, but steadied quickly. "At first, our operatives seemed to have him cold. They were confirmed on target. Then, according to the eyewitness accounts, the vehicle accelerated almost instantaneously, to the point they would have missed. The operatives on the bridge overhead promptly activated the backup plan. It should have worked perfectly. The concussion destroyed seven other cars and killed 13 people around the area, as well as rendering the bridge supports structurally unsafe, according to the news. He was right next to the explosion, and should have been caught. The vehicle should have been destroyed by all accounts. Our experts theorize that there must have been some abnormality in how the explosives detonated that caused the concussion to be weaker on that side. We did do substantial damage to the vehicle."

"But he got away!" The voice thundered. The man behind the voice pounded his fist on the table and shouted "The generator must be destroyed! If this device is ever released to the public, we are ruined. And if our attempts to destroy it are discovered, then we will also be at substantial risk that our past activities will be discovered. This cannot be allowed!"

Everyone around the table gave a collective shudder at the thought. This group had not been known for their kindness.

"We've got our best on it, sir. We're just waiting for a moment when the agency isn't so close. It will come soon, sir, I promise. We all know the consequences if we rush in."

"Very well," the voice responded, somewhat less abrasive this time, "but if you botch an opportunity like this again, your life is forfeit."

The man on the other end of the phone gulped audibly. He obviously remembered how his predecessor had vanished. "I'm well aware of the importance of this mission, sir. We will be successful."

"You had better hope so," the voice replied, and terminated the call.

"Now that our operatives have been reminded how important this is," thunder-voice said, "let us hear the report on the surveillance afterwards. Number two?"

The man on the opposite side of the table from thunder-voice began his report. "Yes, Number One. The car sustained severe cosmetic damage and was not legal to drive without repairs. It also sustained severe heat and seems to have almost caught on fire. After the subjects replaced the body panels, glass, and lights, the car was fit to drive again, and the engineer has been using it as his commuter car.

"The agency arrived later that day. We couldn't listen in because of the intense agency countermeasures they took when they became interested, but it appeared to really shake up the subjects. The subjects haven't made any moves at all towards going public, though they met on a regular basis for some time after that."

"What was the trip to Washington about?" Number One asked. "I know we can’t listen in there, but we do have sources that should have reported in."

"The agency was also there," the second voice responded. "so all we have is the reports from our operatives in the catering service, which are basically worthless. From the way they came out, though, it would seem they were shaken up thoroughly at that meeting, too."

"So it seems they are keeping a low profile," the first voice said. "Very wise. They may yet survive this." There was a pause. Afterwards, Number One had composed himself, and continued on what seemed to be a lightened note. "Now then, let's hear the report from our operatives in the competitors to our cover business. Number Three?"

"First up, we have secured all the patents for the latest efficiency improvement at Kyocera, via an expenditure of only three million dollars." Number Three began

"Always the economically minded, aren’t you, number three?" Number One asked, chuckling. "Continue, please…"

Dave had joined the EV discussion list back when he learned the Fiero was electric and about the fusion drive. They had greatly assisted both he and Dick during the build. Dick had joined at that time, too. The electric drag racing they frequently discussed (and cussed) on the list had intrigued both of them. Now, they had joined NEDRA, the National Electric Drag Racing Association, as full members, and were looking forward to their first race, the "Power of DC" race in Maryland. This would be their first time meeting many of the personalities from the list.

"Here's the turn," Dave said. He was navigating at the moment, while Dick was driving the Fiero. "I bet we're some of the few that drove their EV to the race, besides Chris Zach, that is, in his NiCad powered truck."

"That's probably true," Dick replied. "But I know we're the only ones to drive from Oklahoma, and with a trailer, too! You know, this car is comfortable, but I don't like being cooped up in it for two days of driving. I'm starting to get claustrophobic."

"Me, too," Dave replied. "Good thing we're almost there. And it's a good thing I put on that hitch. Who knew we'd need to take so much stuff along with us? On a different note, I haven't seen any signs of being followed. Spencer has done a good job keeping his agents low-key."

"I think it kind of got to him, having something like that happen right under his nose." Dick replied. "So he's more determined then ever to get this done right."

"Probably true," Dave said. "Do you think our being in this race is enough to get the attention of whoever is after us?"

"We'll have to wait and see," Dick said. "But they are surely watching this car as closely as the agency, so are inevitably lurking on the list. We were pretty clear about participating. They have to come out of the woodwork sometime. And this car is so well done that there’s no reason not to show this car and race it. You know, I can't believe it's already June. Seems like we just started building this thing the other day."

"There's the entrance," Dave said.

After paying their track fees at the gate, they were directed to the pit area for the electrics, where charging was set up, and began to unpack and go through a checklist to make the car race ready, while they waited for the other competitors to arrive.

"Rear tire pressure reduced."

"Check!"

"All 'Baggage' removed,"

With only Dave's feet visible from the driver's side, things started to fly out of the vehicle. "Old french fry, check. Fast food wrapper, check. Broken piece of shoelace, check. Used cups, check."

After disposing of the trash, they unhitched and unloaded the trailer. "Folding chair, check. Extension cords, check. High voltage toolbox, check. Fiero toolbox, check. Another folding chair, check. Multimeter, check. Cooler, ice, water sodas, and snacks, check"

By this time, several other electrics were arriving and unloading. "Time to meet the crowd, I guess," Dave said. "Oh, I guess we’d better plug in. We'd arouse suspicion if we didn't at least pretend to be charging."

"Oh, right!" Dick said as he plugged into the AC line. "Hope no one saw that," he muttered under his breath.

The next hour was spent getting acquainted with east coast personalities from the EV list and helping get them set up to race. A large number of high schools were fielding cars, and there was considerable interest in their vehicles. Dick busied himself getting familiar with the various schools and their sponsors and participants. "Never can tell when you need another sponsor or partner for a research project," he said.

By that time, there was a considerable crowd gathering around most of the cars, and the new fiero they had talked about on the list so much was no exception, so it was time for Dave to enter show-and-tell mode for the next few minutes. When Dick came back, an hour had passed, and it was time to race!

The tech inspectors seemed pretty informed, and were obviously ready for the event. They passed each EV after a rapid but thorough inspection.

Dave and Dick took turns driving, with a token few minutes spent in between runs at their charging area. Each managed to get in four runs. While no records were broken (their best was a 14.012 at 90.302 MPH), they had no disasters, learned about NEDRA racing, learned how to drag race, and got a little better each time. When the last run of the day was over for them, they were busily discussing ideas on how to improve their times.

The opportunity for anyone to get at the car was during charging. They purposely left the covers open during that time, and gave 'show and tell's' to anyone interested, affording ample opportunity for nefarious doings while their backs were turned.

The inevitable question was first asked by the EVDL guys. "What's that odd looking sphere with all the wires going into it?" One asked.

With a casual response that was almost too practiced, Dave replied, "that's a fusion generator to keep the batteries charged."

After the laughter subsided, Dave tried again. "OK, would you believe it's a battery management system?" That seemed to go over better. No one seemed to catch on that they ran 8 times and only charged for about 10 minutes in between runs.

The excitement came just before Dave's fourth run. He was next in line, and was set up to run against a custom mustang which had been turning in especially good times for it's class, but had been beat a couple of times by the EV's. Dave suspected the owner had turned up his turbo boost level during his last pit stop to make a better showing, as his friends were ribbing him mercilessly about getting beat by electric cars.

A track official came out to the car for a moment, said he was checking what appeared to be a loose panel or a stick dragging under the car. He examined the passenger quarter panel, then said everything was OK, and that Dave could continue on when signaled. He even came up with a stick and showed it to Dave. Suspicious, Dave keyed the transmitter Spencer had given him for the event.

"You saw?" He asked.

"We're on him. But he left a package stuck to the underside of the car."

Instead of getting out and pulling it off, Dave used the computer to verify the content - C4. The field generators were then used to destroy the detonator electronics.

By that time the car was staged. Dave went ahead and made the run. A man they recognized as one of Spencer's men came out after wards and retrieved the bomb before Dave reached the charging area.

"Did you get him?" Dave asked the agent.

"Yes. We're moving him away from the area now."

"Any idea who he is?" Dave asked.

"No, but we'll find out. This is only the first attempt - we're pretty sure there will be more, so stay on your toes." The agent replied.

"Will do," Dave replied.

Later on, as the day was winding down, Dave's cell phone rang.

"Hello," Dave answered.

"Spencer here," came the reply. "A dead end on this front, I'm afraid. The guy planting the explosive is a local strongarm type, used for various petty purposes by a variety of criminals, but nothing big til now, and he didn’t even know how big it was. He was hired over the phone and paid in advance, in cash. Thought it was some other racer who wanted an advantage. He said it was someone who he hasn't worked with before."

"Are you sure about that?" Dave asked.

"We’re sure." Spencer replied with certainty.

"So we continue," Dave replied.

"That's correct," Spencer replied. "See you in two weeks at the next race."

Dave hung up the phone without fanfare. "We're still on," he told Dick.

The next few months were a whirlwind of car shows and races across the country. The little car proved it's mettle not only on the strip, but in the heavy use from driving it cross country on multiple occasions.

Three more attempts occurred over the summer. At a car show in Kansas City, a large billboard fell towards the EV (but strangely veered away at the last moment). At a NEDRA race in Texas that Dave and Dick had organized, a fire broke out in the charging area, very close to the fiero, and threatened to destroy several vehicles. It suddenly burned itself out rather quickly. Lastly, at another car show in Tulsa, a wall collapsed onto the alternative vehicles display, but narrowly missed the fiero. Each time, the 'muscle' was caught by the watchful employees of the agency. Each time, unfortunately, the muscle proved to be just that, and to have no connection with the brains of whatever devious organization was behind the attempts to destroy the generator.

At their monthly strategy meeting, Dick expressed his frustration. "Spencer, do you think this is going to continue? I mean, we've been at this for around six months now, and have gotten nowhere. We've caught all kinds of ne'er do wells, but none of them have a concrete link back to the source."

"Patience, Dr. Lowery," Spencer answered. "Logic dictates that the source will eventually become so frustrated with the ineptitude of his hired hands, that he will take matters into his own hands. That is when we most need to be there, and indeed it means that now we need to be more watchful then ever. We need to stick to the plan."

"It’s only been a little over a year yet since we even discovered the car, Dick," Dave added, thoughtfully. "Neither of us would lose patience that quickly. If this organization is headed by anyone intelligent, they won't be easily frustrated, either."

Indeed, half a continent away, The masked figure of Number One turned from a smoldering pit of acid to the man next to him, and said "Congratulations, Mr. Turner. A vacancy has just emerged in your branch of the organization, and I believe you are next in line for advancement."

The man shivered. He couldn't take his eyes off of the now still liquid in the cauldron.

"As the new head of the, shall we say more action oriented branch of our organization," the voice continued, "I think you know what operation I would like you to plan."

Turner knew that would be coming. Just as it had for the three before him. He briefly considered jumping into the steaming liquid now.

"This time, however, there will be a difference," the voice announced. "Largely due to the incompetence demonstrated by your predecessors, it has become necessary for us to intervene directly. I want multiple layers of backups, and a unique and foolproof plan, as usual, but... You personally will conduct the operation, and members of the board, including myself, will assist, observe, and serve as backup operators."

This was new, Turner noted. With these provisions, the masterminds would share responsibility for any results. With that going for it, he just might have a chance. An electrical engineer by training, and a judo master, he knew the best way to defeat an opponent was to use your opponent's strength against himself. And he thought he knew an excellent way for that to happen with an electric car. Something he had read while doing research on famous EV drag racers had jumped out at him. With the right provisions, a way existed to make an EV destroy itself, with no possibility of determining anything from what was left, and it would serve the double purpose of discrediting EV's as unsafe in the public eye. Turner began to smile. It was just possible he could not only survive, but come out of this a very wealthy man.

The activity started early at Portland International raceway. This year's "Wayland Invitational" promised to be the biggest ever, with an anonymous donor contributing to the transportation costs to bring many EV's from all over the country. This was to be the last race here this year, as the summer was winding down to a close. Weather was perfect, with clear skies and calm winds predicted for the entire day.

The event was well organized. A huge display grounds was set up, with alternative transportation choices of all sorts drawing large crowds. A new company selling the "Freedom" EV was taking orders and giving test drives, and business was brisk. Off to the side of this area was the charging area for the electric racers.

Dick and Dave had just set up their area, when they got to meet the local EV racing celebrity that the event was named after, John Wayland himself. Also in the charging area was 'madman' Rich Rudman, who manufactured the charger that the fiero used.

"So you're the guys who have that 'secret' BMS that has been such a hot topic on the list lately," Rich said after introducing himself. "Mind if I have a look?"

This caught Dave and Dick by surprise. They glanced at each other. "We really haven't had time to keep up with the email traffic lately," Dave said. "What's been going on?"

"Well, it seems like one of the listers saw your EV back at the 'Power of DC' race, and noticed it. He since mentioned it on the list without any response from you guys, and a whole bunch of wild rumors have sprouted since then. I was curious…oh, but just professionally," he quickly added. "I have a little experience with these things, you know."

That was an understatement. Rich had more battery management experience with more chemistries than anyone else in the country, individual or company.

"Sure, you can take a look," Dave said. "We just hadn't a clue that anything like that was going on."

"I know what you're getting at, Rich, and we have no intention of marketing a BMS," Dick said. "besides, It's still a prototype at best."

Peering into the open decklid, Rich whistled. "That's a mighty clean install. That it right there?" He pointed at the generator.

"That's the object of all the attention," Dave replied.

"Care to talk about how it works?" Rich ventured.

"Not yet," Dick replied. "We're still trying to find the best way for it to work." "Well, at least neither statement is a lie…" He thought

Wayland and a group of onlookers came by at that time. "Hey, John!" Rich shouted. "Come see the 'mystery machine' firsthand." Soon the car was surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, poking and prodding. They had no way of knowing that any destructive device would be immediately detected by the onboard sensors and isolated. The high voltage terminals were also insulated with a forcefield just above the metal for safety, in addition to the clear plastic covers over the assembly. However, all the cabling was left exposed. This was both to encourage those planning mayhem to make their move, and to accommodate the multitudes of fellow EV'rs who naturally tended to be hands-on about this sort of thing. Keeping the whole area closed off from inspection would raise suspicion.

Distracted by the questions and the crowd, neither Dick nor Dave noticed a small device being clamped across the traction pack battery cables. The fellow next to him did, however, and promptly sent the other agency operatives a signal using his cell phone. A few moments later, the fellow was in custody.

Dick and Dave, however, having been distracted by the rush of people, did not notice. Then the announcement came that racing was about to begin, and there was a sudden rush of people and vehicles in the pit area.

It was Dave's turn to drive. Dick stuck his head in the window. "OK, you're all ready to go. Now you know we've been getting our times near record territory, but there's still one person faster…"

"Wayland" they repeated together. Despite honing their driving techniques and pushing the generator and batteries to limits everybody agreed was 'safe', they had failed to defeat the current record holder at their 240V voltage class.

"Then we just have to go into 'unsafe' territory," Dave said. "I'm turning up the generator to maximum, and increasing the motor and battery allowable currents on the controller. At least he isn't still at this voltage, so we have a static target."

"For now," Dick said. "Go get’em!"

Dave drove towards the tech inspection area with the other racers.

As Dave was approaching the racing lanes, Dick was contemplating whether the last brush timing change they made would be enough, in combination with Dave’s increase in current, to get them into the record books. Then Dick’s cell phone rang. It was Spencer.

"We got him."

"Got who?" Dave replied.

"You mean you didn’t see? We caught a guy that clamped some device onto the battery cables leading to the main contactor. He had a cell phone trigger, and he didn’t seem too upset about getting caught."

"Is it an explosive?" Dick asked. "Then we don’t have to worry."

"Don’t think so," Spencer said. "Haven’t gotten too much detail out of him yet, haven’t had time. But he did say something about wanting to watch the fireworks. Oh, and what’s a ‘plasma fire’ anyway? Dick? You there? Hello?"

Dick hadn’t sprinted that fast since he set the record in the 100 yard dash in high school. He thought that, had anyone been timing him, he would have bettered his time. The cell phone hadn’t even hit the ground before he was 20 feet away.

Dave was preparing to move from the burnout pit to the lane when Dick reached the window. "Stop! Spencer caught…new type of device…didn’t think of it…no explosives." He stammered as he tried to catch his breath.

"What? What’s going on?" Dave asked. "What are you trying to say?"

By this time, a couple of other racers and a track official had come to see what the delay and the fuss was about. Dick took another deep breath, then replied, "It’s been sabotaged. Spencer got the guy, but it’s not an explosive. He mentioned a plasma fire. It can only be something to short the pack. It’s a cell phone trigger., and probably something to sense tampering. And there’s bound to be a backup trigger man."

The official, Dick, Dave, Rich Rudman, and Wayland gathered around the engine bay as it was opened. Wayland spotted it immediately. "There!" he said, pointing. There was what looked like a rectangular metal bar clamped around the battery cables. "Looks like they’ll short it when triggered for sure, and it’s upstream of the main fuse! There’ll be no stopping it!"

Wayland had first-hand experience, and those present trusted his word. Dick and Rich dove under the car to get a closer look. "What’s the verdict?" Dave asked. "No good, no good," Rich said. "It’ll take quite a while to cut this thing out, things are so tight in there, but we’ll try."

"Bring us the high voltage toolkit, quick," Dick said. Dave ran towards the pits to get the equipment

"We’ll need a couple of those," Rich added. A nearby racer ran off to the pit area to recover his.

Wayland instructed the track official to quietly get a fire crew over here and to reroute traffic, clearing the area around the car. Shortly, the tools were available, and the work had begun. Rich soon had his toolkit as well.

"Bad news," Dick reported, "it’s tamper resistant, and has got a sophisticated motion sensor. Probably designed to arm when you staged, and go off when you accelerated. We can cut it out and splice around it if we’re careful, but it’ll take time."

"Time we don’t have if there’s a backup trigger man," Dave said. He turned away from the mounting chaos for a moment and called Spencer on his cell phone."

"Spencer!" Dave began, "When will the backup activate his trigger?"

"Just got that information," Spencer replied. "he should be entering the stands any minute. Can you get that thing off?"

"Working on it," Dave replied. "But it’s going to take time. Can we use the field generators to jam cell communications?"

"That’s a negative. You’ve got to find something else." Came the reply.

Number One turned into the stands at that moment. He was unhappy with the excessive concession prices, but smiled inwardly knowing that satisfaction would soon be his. The time would soon be here. All the others were in place. He checked the holster again to confirm the phone was still there.

As he sat down, he shook his head as a pair of EV racers rocketed off towards the traps. "These things just aren’t right without chocking fumes and deafening roars," he thought.

Then an announcement came over the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing a delay in the staging lanes. The next racers will be up in a few minutes."

Number One immediately turned his binoculars towards the staging area, capturing the view of traffic giving a certain fiero a wide berth.

"No!" He muttered. He reached for the cell phone like a gunfighter in the wild west. He had TWO numbers to dial.

Dave turned to Wayland and asked "What could effectively jam a cell phone trigger signal?"

A thoughtful look came over Wayland’s face, then, suddenly, he broke into a grin. "I’ve got it!" He cried, and ran off towards his car.

Number One decided to dial the most satisfying number last. First, the newly promoted operative must be disciplined…

Wayland returned to the fiero with a handful of test leads and a few small components, and quickly began to attach things to the pack.

"That goes to 12V+, quick! Hurry, hook this there and this, there." The orders flew and one by one, the wires were quickly connected.

At one point, they were all distracted by a blood-curdling scream, then the panic resumed again.

"One more…"

Number One dialed the second number.

"It doesn’t reach, give me another lead!"

Number One’s thumb pressed the call button.

"And There!"

John held up the strange object, that seemed to have to have several other devices to support it. It was an E-Meter.

Number One lost it. "No!!!" He screamed. "It’s GOT to work! It HAS to!!! They must be destroyed!!!!" He almost dropped the phone while typing a text message.

A program vendor placed a hand on his shoulder. "Excuse me sir, but Dr. spencer has just sent your medication. This way, please."

Seeing the agency operatives surrounding him, Number One became nearly manic, and started laughing hysterically.

"You’re too late!," he said, as they led him away, "they’ll get him, they have too…"

"That’s it?" One of the bystanders said. "You expect a meter to jam a cell phone signal?"

John looked at him sideways. "This particular meter jams pretty much everything within about 2 feet."

A few minutes later, Rich and Dick had the device cut free and the cables spliced. "Good ting that thing blocked the trigger signal," Dave said.

"We don’t even know that a signal was being sent," Rich said. If there was a "trigger man" in the crowd, we’ll never know about it. Are you sure," he asked Wayland," that that thing has so much interference it can really block a signal?

At that moment, Dick removed the power leads from the E-Meter. The clamp device proptly made a loud "Thunk" in Wayland’s hand, as it drove copper blades halfway into the cables.

That was followed, to the relief of the track officials, by trying to clear the area to permit racing to continue. Those racers who had stopped to help recovered and stowed their equipment, and the cable splice integrity was checked. While the cleanup continued, a shadowy figure snuck behind the wall next to the fiero. No one was looking. The text message from Number One made what had happened clear. His boss had failed, trying a unique solution. He preferred the simple approach, and reached into his pocket, retrieving a small charge of plastic explosives. Now was the time. No one was watching. He took a step towards the car.

Dave had just closed the hood, and Wayland was untangling the last of his test leads. Each was engrossed in what they were doing until a sharp ‘crack’ sounded across the distance, and a man fell down, out cold. Rich Rudman stepped out from behind him with a 2X4. "I knew this would come in handy," he said.

At last, Dave was able to make his run. With the new settings, it felt faster than the rest. He came around to get his timeslip. "YES!" He yelled. 11.998 seconds at 105.23 MPH! A new record. Of course now he had to back it up woth a similar run…

Dave pulled into the pit area to a small cheering crowd. Rudman was there with a charger, all set to top off the batteries. Amid the congratulations from the crowd, he said "Hey, this is funny, it’s almost like you never take your batteries below 80% DOD. What’s going on?"

Both Dick and Dave shrugged, but couldn’t help the grins on their faces.

During checkout for the next run, they noticed that Wayland had gathered some of his team, and opened his race car’s hatch. Another in the seemingly unending series of changes? It didn’t seem like his vehicle needed it, it was still doing well, with better times each run. He had been chasing higher voltage records for some time.

Soon, the batteries were at approximately the same charge level as they had been before the previous run. That was the point they sought to back up the record. Everything needed to be as close as possible. Of course, the batteries were warmer, so they should perform a bit better.

Dave pulled into the lane to stage, just as Wayland closed up his vehicle, gave them a quick thumbs up, and drove off on his own. At that time, an announcement came over the loudspeakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a challenge! The previous record holder, in the white car, has removed batteries from his vehicle in order to attempt to recover his record. He will be racing head-to-head against this new challenger, who is now attempting his back-up run."

The crowd went wild. Dave knew what Wayland had in mind. The interest in EV’s would increase more rapidly if the crowd really saw a good race. Besides, it was a lot more fun.

Of course, he would probably lose…

"OK," Dave thought. "Can’t cheat be using the field generators, can’t zap anything, what can I do?"

Then he glanced at the palm pilot attached to the motor controller.

He was in valet mode.

He had 100 more amps available. Only 100. But it might just be enough…

Both vehicles delivered an astonishing burnout that brought the crowd to their feet. Shrouded in tire smoke, they advanced simultaneously towards the staging lines.

The track officials signaled when each was properly staged, and one last butterfly flew through Dave’s stomach. From then on, he was in automatic.

The run seemed to go in slow motion. He never saw Wayland blast past him, and for that he was grateful, but he knew he needed to continue to pull out all the stops all the way to the end. When they circled around to the timing shack, they had to compare slips to find out who had won.

Wayland had bettered his old record, breaking into the 11’s and tying Dave’s earlier 11.998, which was exceptional at the lower voltage. But Dave had bettered his, too, turning in an 11.952 at 106.30 MPH.

Two more runs were made that night, but none were so exciting. The final 240V record rested with Dave, with a final value of 11.950 at 106.50 MPH.

At the end of the day, they pulled out of the racetrack, heading to a late-night dinner at a local restaurant. Shortly, however, they noticed that a large vehicle had pulled quite close behind them. Dave sped up a bit, but the vehicle came up closer, and bumped them!

"What’s he doing?" Dick shouted.

"Unless I miss my guess, he’s trying to kill us." Dave calmly replied. He floored it, and broke out of the line of EV’s.

"I hope you’re calling Spencer," Dave said.

"Quiet, I’m on the phone," Dick replied.

They were hit again while Dick was on the phone with Spencer. "He’s got his teams on us, one is maintaining a visual, and others are trying to intercept, but they can’t keep up. We’re both moving too fast. It may be a while."

"We don’t have a while," Dave replied.

The vehicle behind them was huge, probably a hummer. Souped up, too from the deafening roar it emanated.

The Fiero was more nimble, and gained ground in turns. Dave got a workout deftly maneuvering around vehicles that came screeching to a stop to avoid the spectacle. They weren’t so lucky when the hummer cam through. It merely smashed vehicles out of the way.

They picked up several of Spencer’s vehicles as tails, but they couldn’t maintain as high an average speed. The Fiero by sheer power, the Hummer by brute force.

They rounded a turn and headed for an interstate on ramp. "At least there’ll be fewer people that could get hurt," Dave said.

The fiero held tightly to the on ramp at almost 100 MPH. The hummer couldn’t maintain the tight turn, so it went through the grass between the ramp and the interstate.

As the chase continued, fewer vehicles besides the chase vehicles and the agency vehicles were visible. "They must have shut it down ahead of us," Dave said.

Then came the straightaway. The hummer floored it. The deafening roar filled their ears.

"Get ready for an impact," Dick yelled. Dave braced himself.

Instead, the roar slowly diminished, and the hummer slowly sank back from the fiero. He thought he could see the driver beating the steering wheel.

Dave slowed as well. The hummer came to a stop, and was immediately surrounded by agency vehicles. Dave pulled around, and drove to the lead agency vehicle.

Spencer was standing there and flagged them over. He started before either could say anything. "The one from the stands with the cell phone trigger was Mr. Big. And you’ll never guess who he is." He didn’t wait for the inevitable question. "He’s the chairman of the board for General Motors." He revealed.

"How do you like that," Dave said. "There really was an auto company conspiracy!"

"These guys were all at the track and were in on the plot," Spencer continued. "This should be the end of these attempts, and you know what that means."

"We can go ahead with the release plan!" Dave exclaimed. "Finally!" Dick replied. "I was running out of vacation time."

"Just one thing I don’t understand," Dave said. "Why did they stop?"

A wry grin came over Spencer’s face. "You’re gonna love this," he said. "They ran out of gas."

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