Lightning was on a side stage, doing a slow burn. Then he spotted Mater. The dented tow truck was looking around, confused.
“Oh, hey, Lightning! What happened?” he asked. “Is the race over? You won, right?”
“Mater, why were you yelling those things at me while I was racing?” Lightning sputtered.
Mater shrugged. “Yelling? Oh, you thought I was talkin’ to you? That’s funny right there. No, see that’s ’cause I saw these two fellers doing some kind of karate street performance! It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower!”
“A flamethrower!” Lightning exclaimed. “Mater, I don’t understand. Where were you?”
“Going to meet my date,” Mater said, still not understanding what he’d done—until he saw the look on Lightning’s face.
“I lost the race because of you!” Lightning shouted angrily at his friend. “This is exactly why I don’t bring you along to these things!”
Mater was stunned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Maybe if I—I dunno—talked to somebody and explained what happened, it could help.”
“I don’t need your help!” Lightning snapped as the media began to pull him away for interviews. “I don’t want your help!”
Mater was pushed backward as the reporters swarmed Lightning. He hovered for a few minutes while he listened to Lightning talking to them.
“I made a mistake,” Lightning said, “but I can assure you, it won’t happen again in the next race.”
Mater was sure he was the mistake Lightning was talking about. He decided there was only one thing to do. He would go back to Radiator Springs and let Lightning race his own way. He didn’t want to hurt his friend’s chances of winning the next two races.
On Lightning’s pit monitor, the postrace commentary continued.
“To recap,” Brent Mustangburger said, “Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli. And three, count ’em, three cars flamed out, leading some to suggest that their fuel, Allinol, might be to blame.”
The cameras switched live to Sir Miles Axlerod. He was trying to defend his new fuel to the media.
“Allinol is safe!” he insisted.
The announcer, Darrell Cartrip, looked doubtful. “Well, the jury may still be out on whether Allinol caused these accidents, but one thing’s for sure: Lightning McQueen blew this race.”
Mater saw the postrace show from a monitor at the Tokyo airport. Sadly, he headed toward the gates, knowing he’d let his best buddy down.
Mater never noticed Grem and Acer following him. A security guard suddenly approached Mater.
“Come with me, please, sir,” the security guard said, escorting Mater around a corner. “But I’m gonna miss my plane!” Mater protested. The security guard dropped his disguise. He was Finn McMissile. “Hey, I know you!” Mater said excitedly. “You’re that fella from the karate demonstration!”
They entered a private lounge. “I never properly introduced myself,” Finn said. “Finn McMissile. British intelligence.”
Mater grinned. He didn’t understand Finn’s phrase. “Tow Mater,” he said. “Average intelligence.”
“Who are you with?” Finn asked. “FBI? CIA?”
“Let’s just say I’m Triple-A-affiliated,” Mater said.
Finn eyed Mater for a moment. Then Mater took a karate stance. “Don’t wanna brag or nothin’, but I’ve got me a black fan belt. You wanna see some moves I made up?”
As Mater clumsily kicked and chopped at the air,
Finn noticed Grem and Acer right outside the lounge. “There he is!” Grem shouted, pointing at Mater. Quickly, Finn cut a perfect circle in the window that overlooked the tarmac. Then he hooked Mater. “Hang on!”
Finn leaped straight through the glass, taking Mater with him. The fallen piece of glass created a smooth ramp to the airport runway. Finn pulled Mater down hard when they reached the tarmac and zipped him away from the terminal building.
“Whoa!” a delighted Mater shouted at the top of his lungs. “This is first-class service! You don’t even have to go through the terminal!”
But Acer and Grem were right behind them. “Drive forward,” Finn told Mater sharply. “Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
Finn skidded around so that now Mater was towing him. Finn faced Grem, ready for the attack. Before he hit the tarmac, Grem managed to fire a rocket. Finn intercepted it with a rocket of his own.
Ka-blam!
“Everything okay back there?” Mater asked.
Just then, Siddeley, a British spy jet, appeared overhead, engines roaring.
“Finn,” the jet radioed, “It’s Sid. I’m on approach.”
“Roger that,” Finn replied.
Up ahead, Acer appeared on the tarmac. He was dragging a long row of luggage carts. Mater and Finn were going to run right into the baggage train!
Siddeley the jet swept down and blew the luggage carts apart.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Mater howled as the luggage exploded. “I knew I should’ve done carry-on!”
And in one swift move, Finn drove toward the jet, pulling Mater after him.
“Thanks, old boy!” Finn said to Siddeley.
“You got it, mate!” Siddeley replied. He pulled his rear cargo door down for Mater and Finn to board. Holley was waiting inside.
Mater smiled. “Hey! Doggone it, look! It’s my imaginary girlfriend!”
At that same moment, in his suite at a Tokyo hotel, Lightning McQueen was looking at the goodbye note Mater had left behind. Guido, Luigi, Sarge, and Fillmore were at Lightning’s side as he tried to read Mater’s handwriting:
I don’t want to be the cause of you losing any more races. I want you to prove to the world what I already know—that you are the greatest race car in the whole wide world. Your best friend, Mater.
Lightning handed the note to Luigi and turned away for a moment.
“I didn’t really want him to leave,” Lightning said to himself with mixed emotions. “Well, at least I know he’s at home and he’ll be okay.”
But Mater wasn’t on a commercial jet heading for home. High above them, Mater was gaining altitude on board Siddeley, the high-speed, high-tech, tough-as-nails British spy jet.
“Hey, do you guys know if this is a nonstop to Radiator Springs?” Mater asked Finn and Holley.
Holley used her electronic scanner on Mater and located the device the American agent had planted on him. A robotic arm shot out of her computer and yanked the device from under Mater’s rear bumper.
“Yow!” Mater shouted. “I gotta go to a doctor. I keep getting these sharp pains in my undercarriage!”
Then Mater remembered his manners. “Lemme introduce you two. This here is Finn McSomething-orother. He’s a first-class airport watchamacallit. And Finn, this here’s my date.” Mater turned to Holley. “I never did get your name.”
Holley hardly looked up from her work as she replied, “Shiftwell. Holley Shiftwell.”
Mater turned back to Finn to finish the introductions. “It’s Shiftwell. Holley—”
Suddenly, Holley drew up an image on her computer monitor.
“Finally,” Finn said, eager to see the information from the American agent’s recording device. “Time to see who’s behind all this.”
The computer suddenly projected a holographic image between Mater and Holley. It showed the details of a car engine.
“What is this, Mater?” Finn asked.
Mater looked at the image and shrugged. “That? That’s easy. That’s one of the worst engines ever made. It’s an old aluminum V-8 engine with a Lucas electrical system and Whitworth bolts!” Mater explained that Whitworth bolts were a pain to get off. Every good mechanic knew that.
“Whose engine is this, Mater?” Finn asked.
“It’s kinda hard to tell from this picture, ain’t it?” Mater answered.
Holley stared at Mater. “But you’re the one who took it!” Then she looked at Finn. “Oh, of course,” she added. “A good spy gets what he
can, then gets out before he’s killed.”
“You guys is spies?” Mater was dumbfounded.
Finn turned and looked at Holley. “This was supposed to be a photo of the car behind everything—not just his engine!”
Holley searched for more information, but there was only that single image.
“An engine like this could be in any number of cars,” Finn said, thinking aloud. “This doesn’t help us at all. It’s a dead end. I am not happy about this.”
“You might not be, but he’s gotta be,” Mater commented.
Finn was getting increasingly frustrated. “Who are you talking about?”
“This clunker here,” Mater said simply as he looked more closely at the engine in the image. “See how he’s had most of his parts replaced? Those are original parts. They aren’t easy to come by.”
“Rare parts,” Holley said to Finn. “That’s something we can track.”
“Well done, Mater!” Finn exclaimed. “I never would have seen that. I know a black-market parts dealer in Paris. He’s a treacherous lowlife, but he’s the only car in the world who can tell us whose engine this is. Mater, what would you say to forming an informal task force on this one?”
“Well,” Mater answered hesitantly, “okay. But you know I’m just a tow truck, right?”
“Right. And I’m just in the import-export business!” Finn winked at Mater and Holley. Then he called to Siddeley: “Paris, toute suite!”
“Yeah, two of them sweets for me, too, Sid!” Mater shouted. “You know, I always wanted to be a spy.”
As Siddeley reached cruising altitude, he asked Finn, “Afterburners, sir?”
“Is there any other way?” Finn replied.
The jet suddenly jolted forward, and in a few short hours they were looking down at Paris.
Once they’d landed, Mater carefully followed Finn and Holley through backstreets and along alleys toward Finn’s “contact.” Mater was excited to see the sights, but he tried extra hard to follow Finn and Holley’s lead. This was serious business!
They soon reached a marketplace where cars swarmed them, speaking in French. It seemed that every car had something to sell!
Just then a wobbly three-wheeled car turned in their direction and spotted Finn.
Tomber was a parts dealer who drove a hard bargain. He also was Finn’s informant. But Tomber didn’t like strangers or his customers to know he had a relationship with the law. So when he saw Finn with a tow truck, he took off like a shot.
Finn finally caught up with him. “Mater! This chap’s double-parked. You know what to do.”
Mater’s tow hook shot out like a whip. Moments later, Mater was towing Tomber into a dark garage. Holly followed as Finn quickly pulled the door shut, so the four cars could speak in private.
It was all part of the game. Tomber could not afford to let the crowd outside see him talking with strange cars. Finn was pretending to kidnap him while he actually gathered information.
Holley whipped out the holographic photo of the bad engine identified by Mater.
“All right, informant,” Holley said. “Inform us.”
“What a bucket of bolts!” Tomber exclaimed. “Wait. The parts: original from the manufacturer.”
“Any idea who this might be?” Finn probed.
“I haven’t seen parts like this in years. They’re very rare and very expensive,” Tomber said, confirming Mater’s previous remarks. He paused and added, “I’m sorry, Finn. I can’t help you.”
“Mater, is there anything else you can tell us about this engine?” Holley asked desperately.
“Sorry.” Mater frowned. “I told you everything I know about this Lemon.”
Everyone in the room paused.
“Lemon?” Holley asked.
“Yeah, you know—cars that don’t work right,” Mater replied. “Lemons are a tow truck’s bread and butter. Like those Pacers and Gremlins at the party and race and airport and such? They’re Lemons, too.”
“Holley,” Finn blurted. “Pull up the pictures I took on the oil platform. I want to know what other types of cars were out there.”
Holley pulled up the photos and started naming the cars. “There were some Hugos.”
“Mater, is a Hugo considered a Lemon?” Finn asked. He was detecting a trend!
Mater chuckled. A Hugo was definitely a Lemon. And so were the Trunkovs Holley identified in the photos from the oil derrick. Even the genius mastermind Professor Z was a Lemon!
“Finn,” Holley commented, “every car involved in this plot is one of history’s biggest loser cars. And they’re all taking their orders from whoever this is.” Once again she brought up the image of the mysterious and poorly constructed engine.
“Life made him a Lemon,” Finn said, musing aloud. “So he made Lemons his aid.”
Tomber’s eyes grew wide. This was familiar! “This explains it!” he announced. “There’ve been rumors of a secret meeting of these so-called Lemon cars in Porto Corsa in two days.”
“Then there’s a good chance he’ll be there, too.” Finn smiled as an idea formed in his mind. Quickly, he told Holley to contact their bullet train. They were heading to Porto Corsa!
Mater’s eyes lit up. “Hey, if we’re gonna be near the next race, maybe we could swing by the pits, and you could tell Lightning how much I’m helping!”
“Tell Lightning what?” Holley looked confused.
But Finn was focused on the Lemons and their upcoming meeting. Now he had a plan: the secret agents would travel to Italy and infiltrate that meeting. Perhaps that would be where they would find out who was behind this plot—and why.
Meanwhile, the race cars and their teams were on their way to the same place as Mater and the two agents, but with different plans and expectations. In Porto Corsa, the small town on the sunny coast of Italy, everyone was excitedly preparing for the second race of the WGP. Lightning and his crew—Luigi, Guido, Sarge, and Fillmore—had just arrived in their WGP transport vehicle.
Porto Corsa also happened to be near the hometown of Luigi and Guido. The cousins couldn’t have been more delighted.
“Guido!” Luigi said as they rolled into the town’s piazza. “Your eyes do not deceive you. We are home!”
Fillmore got out of the transport and looked around. “Luigi, which way to the hotel?”
“What?” Luigi said quickly. “No friends of mine will stay in a hotel in my country. You will stay with my Uncle Topolino!”
As Team Lightning McQueen approached the Maserati fountain in the center of town, a 1937 Fiat rolled into the piazza. It was Uncle Topolino! The piazza soon filled with all of Guido and Luigi’s Fiat family. Tears of joy were flowing as fast as the water in the fountain.
Everyone was smiling. But Uncle Topolino noticed Lightning out of the corner of his eye.
“Race car,” the wise older car said to Lightning. “You look so down. So low. It’s like you have flat tires.”
“He’s clearly starving,” Mamma Topolino said. “I’ma gonna make him a big meal right now, fatten him up.” Lightning tried to stop her, but Mamma rolled away toward the kitchen.
Uncle Topolino took Lightning aside. “I understand,” he said. “Is a problem, yes? Between you and a friend?”
“How’d you know that?” Lightning asked, impressed.
Uncle Topolino shrugged and replied simply: “A wise car hears one word and understands two. That, and Luigi told me. While Mamma cooks, come and take a stroll with me.”
It was hard for Lightning to talk about, but finally he said, “Mater made me lose the race, we had a huge fight, and he ended up going home.” Lightning paused and added: “It’s for the best, though.”
“Best for him? Or for you?” the older car asked.
Lightning was startled. “What do you mean?”
“This Mater is a close friend?”
“He’s my best friend,” Lightning replied.
Uncle Topolino rolled slowly forward. “Then why would you want h
im to be someone else?”
Lightning considered this for a moment. Lightning now understood that he needed to accept Mater for exactly who he was. Mater was his best friend!
Uncle Topolino gazed into the piazza. Party lights were twinkling, and the sound of music was everywhere. “You know, back when Guido and Luigi worked for me, they would fight over everything.”
Lightning could see Luigi dancing with a lady Fiat—and then he saw Guido suddenly cut in.
Uncle Topolino continued. “So I tell them: ‘Va bene.’ It’s okay to fight. Everybody fights now and then, especially best friends.”
They watched Luigi cut back in on Guido. Finally Guido and Luigi danced together with the lady and her girlfriend.
“But you gotta make up fast,” Uncle Topolino added. “No fight is more important than a friendship. Whoever finds a friend, finds a treasure.”
Lightning sighed. He knew it was good advice.
Mamma Topolino returned with a huge platter and scolded, “Now eat!”
Lightning didn’t know that at that moment Mater was traveling in a supersleek spy train on his way to Porto Corsa. Along with Finn and Holley, Mater was looking at surveillance photos of traffic in the little Italian town.
Finn was very impressed with Mater’s knowledge of car makes and models.
“That one’s a Gremlin. There’s another Lemon right there,” Mater was saying as he scanned the photos of Porto Corsa. “That three-wheeled feller had to be right about a big meeting. You never see this many Lemons in one town.”
They took a look at a perfectly maintained Hugo being towed by an Eastern European tow truck.
“Must be one of the heads of the Lemon families,” Finn said. “That’s why he’s in such pristine condition. We’ve got to find a way to infiltrate that meeting and find out who’s behind all this.”
“Hold on,” Holley said as she snapped a photo of Mater. She turned back to her computer and superimposed an image of the European tow truck over Mater. It would be the perfect disguise. Mater could be the one to infiltrate the meeting!
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