Hot Wheels by William Arden Page B

to drive straight through the wall at the rear of the elevator shaft. Then it had rolled to the right in an enclosed area, and stopped. Torres and the other man had walked away. After that there had been another faint rumbling noise, then silence.
    Now, suddenly, clanging and hammering sounds sounded outside. Jupiter tapped on the trunk wall.
    “Ty?”
    Ty’s voice came faintly through the wall. “You okay?”
    “Yes. Where are we?”
    “Let me look around.”
    Inside the trunk Jupiter waited.
    “We’re in what looks like another garage floor,” Jupe finally heard Ty say. “It’s not as big as the other floors. We’re parked way off in a corner, but three guys are working on a Maserati across the room. One of them looks like Pete!”
    “Get me out of here,” Jupiter said.
    He heard the faint sound of Ty moving, and then the key in the trunk lock. The lid lifted. Jupiter quickly rolled out, then crouched behind the sleek car with Ty.
    Across the long, narrow room he saw three men working on what had once been a dark red Maserati. They were clearly taking it apart. They had almost everything off and spread around them. The chassis of the car sat like a skeleton with a bare engine block.
    One of them was Pete.
    “They put him to work pretty fast,” Ty said in a low voice.
    “Tiburon said he was okay, and they probably needed an extra man quickly,” Jupiter said. “Look! He’s still wearing his bolo tie. His walkie-talkie is in the clip. We can signal him. I don’t think he’s too close to the others.”
    The other two mechanics were working some distance from Pete. They talked low to each other and ignored their new co-worker. Both of them were short and skinny, with mean faces and sullen movements. Jupiter and Ty saw the butt of a pistol sticking out of the pocket of one of them.
    “They’re not paying any attention to Pete anyway,” Ty said.
    They were wrong. Jupiter activated the signal on his mini walkie-talkie. A small sound on Pete’s device would alert him that they were nearby. Pete showed no reaction. He went on working. But one of the other mechanics looked up. “What was that?”
    Pete raised his head. “My digital watch alarm. There’s a late-night show I like. I forgot to turn it off.”
    “What time is it anyway, kid?”
    “Almost twelve thirty,” Pete told them.
    “Hey, let’s speed this up, then. We got that Jag over there now, and Tiburon’s gonna show with a bunch more anytime.”
    “Gosh,” Pete said, “isn’t it late to bring in cars?” The other two laughed.
    “Hey, the boss got to buy these lemon rejects when he got the chance, right?”
    The two mechanics laughed harder. It was obvious to Jupiter and Ty that Pete had been told some big lie about what he was doing.
    “Well,” Pete said across the distance, “we’re almost finished here. Maybe I should go and get the Jag.”
    “Sure, kid, go ahead.”
    Pete laid down his tools and wiped his hands on a rag. Then he walked to the Jaguar in the dark corner. He glanced back once to make sure that the other two were at work.
    “Who’s here?” he said, leaning into the Jaguar as if testing something. “Where’s Kelly?”
    He’d recognized the Jaguar, heard the signal, and put two and two together.
    “Me and Ty,” Jupiter said. “Kelly’s with Bob. They should be outside waiting. They were supposed to follow us. What’s happening here?”
    “It’s a chop-shop, all right,” Pete said. “They gave me a phony story about the cars all having something really wrong with them. That makes them cheap buys and worth more as parts. But Tiburon made it pretty clear what’s going on.”
    “Are both those guys armed?” Ty asked.
    “Only one of them, I think.”
    “How come there’s only two working, and you?” Ty asked.
    Pete pretended to work on the Jag’s front door. “Tiburon told me they were short because three mechanics were out sick. He laughed, so I think they’re really in jail. I figure the rest of