Spy Racers: World Tour

Chapter 25: The Escape

Tony definitely had a concussion. He'd thrown up twice already as he and Shashi made their way through the maze of tunnels in the creepy, underground base. Shashi had whisper-yelled at him the first time for being way too loud, so when the second wave of nausea hit, Tony forced himself to silently wretch in the corner. To add to the "suffering in silence," his hands and lower arms felt like they were constantly being pressed on a hot stovetop, so that was fun. They were also having zero luck at finding a door or a stairway that led anywhere but another endless hallway. There was no other word for it at this point- the whole situation was shit.

Finally, Tony heard voices coming from behind them. He and Shashi ducked through an open door and into a small room that looked like the employee lounges he used to see at school. There was a small counter with a microwave and cabinets underneath, plus a small fridge in the corner. It wasn't much, considering this base supposedly belonged to a bunch of super criminals who stole priceless things. Tony imagined they would've had a full-on kitchen with gourmet snacks and drinks ready 24/7, not a crusty room with appliances from the 60s. Maybe this was just the break room for first-time employees or something.

Tony and Shashi flattened themselves against the wall by the doorway as a man and a woman passed by in the hall, speaking in low voices. When they got a bit farther away, Shashi turned to Tony.

"We've gotta follow them, come on."

Tony nodded, immediately regretting it when his head started pounding again. Shashi was right. This was the first time they'd come across anyone else (which was a little strange), and there was a good chance these people could lead them to another part of the base or unlock a door that they couldn't get through before. Cautiously, Shashi pushed open the door again and slipped out into the hall. Tony followed, grimacing as one of his hands brushed against the wall. Damn, he thought. I really should've thought through that escape plan more. The burns on his arms and hands needed serious medical attention, and that wasn't something he was likely to get anytime soon. Using his bracelet to burn through the ropes had been the kind of plan Miss Nowhere would put him on probation for- the kind that involved "not thinking." Tony had gotten hurt plenty of times during missions, so he'd figured the potential of getting a few burns wasn't so bad if it meant he and Shashi could escape. But the bracelet had burned a lot hotter and for a lot longer than he'd expected, and the burns hurt like nothing he'd ever experienced. Maybe Miss Nowhere would give him a little sympathy at first, but Tony knew he should start preparing himself for a lecture on the "consequences of his actions." If he hadn't gone after the bad guys alone in the first place, there would have been no need for an escape plan.

Tony wondered what the crew was doing now. Surely there would be questions about the race coinciding with the robbery, as well as two of the Grand Prix's participants somehow disappearing at the same time. His friends were probably undergoing questioning and having to add more lies onto their already complicated cover identities. All because of his incompetence. Well...it wasn't really his fault- obviously Okada or whoever was behind the thefts was the real one to blame- but Tony couldn't help feeling responsible if the crew was now under more scrutiny because of his kidnapping. Layla especially. She should've been enjoying her win tonight, but now she was at the mercy of Miss Nowhere's stress and a police investigation.

Tony shook his head, trying to switch his focus back to the situation at hand. The workers he and Shashi were following had just turned a corner up ahead. They slowed up, peeking around the wall cautiously, ready to run should someone be coming down the hall the opposite way. To their relief, it was still just the same two workers. They stood in front of a door, one punching numbers into a passcode lock. Tony squinted, trying to see the numbers, but his concussion was making his vision subpar. They'd just have to hope they could get to the door before it closed all the way.

There was a beep, and the lock clicked open. Thankfully, the door opened forward, so Shashi was able to sprint forward and keep it from locking without making too much noise after the workers had passed through. Tony joined him and they pushed the door open ever so slightly, listening for any clues as to what they were about to walk into.

"People," Tony whispered. "That's a room full of people."

"It might not be full," Shashi replied, his sarcastic hopefulness falling flat. "We've got no choice. It's either this or keep wandering around blank hallways."

"I know. Let's just hope we can run and not fight," Tony said grimly, glancing at his charred hands.
With that, they pushed the door open and stepped through, stopping for a moment to take in the room in front of them. It was a workshop, with all kinds of different tools and weapons and vehicles. There were roughly fifteen workers, some hunched over tables and others scattered around the room working on their projects. As they began to look up and notice they had some unwelcome visitors, Tony saw a garage door on the other side of the room.

"Run," he told Shashi, and then took off, praying adrenaline would kick in and mask his pounding head and aching hands for even just a few minutes.

The work tables proved worthy obstacles as the boys tore across the room, chaos erupting all around them. They were forced to either jump over the workspaces or run around, and the workers had caught on and were now trying to stop them as well. Tony slid across a table as he dodged a woman trying to tackle him, causing the project that had been on top of it to fly everywhere. He recognized one of the pieces as a grappling hook and snatched it from the floor as he continued to run. To his right, Shashi had been forced to double back around the room as two men chased him with tasers, straight into the path of more workers. Some had now picked up other weapons they'd been working on, including pistols that they were frantically trying to load bullets into. Shashi was basically a sitting duck and Tony would be too if he didn't think of something fast. In the corner of the room, he spotted a collection of motorcycles- of course, it had to be motorcycles. Layla had been trying to teach him how to ride, but for whatever reason he couldn;t master it. Right now, though, it would have to do.

He changed course, sprinting towards the bikes and using the grappling hook to sling a slew of unfinished projects off a table and into the path of his pursuers. He reached the motorcycles and hopped on the nearest one, saying a silent prayer of thanks that the keys happened to already be in the ignition. With a rumble, the bike came to life and Tony flew forward, trying to gain control as he sped towards Shashi, who was now backed up against a wall with two guns pointed at him.

The workers turned in surprise and jumped out of the way with a collective scream as Tony's motorcycle barreled towards them, showing no signs of slowing down. Even Shashi looked terrified. Somehow, at the last second, Tony was able to turn the bike sharply to the right and slam the brakes, skidding to a halt. At least some part of Layla's training had paid off. Shashi didn't waste any time, jumping on the back of the motorcycle as the workers began to regain their composure, yelling all sorts of things at each other. As he turned the bike again and sped towards the garage door, Tony heard an alarm go off and a voice over the loudspeakers announced that the base was going into lockdown. The control pad on the wall next to the garage flashed red, meaning there was only way they were going to get through.

"What are you doing?!" Shashi yelled from behind him.

Tony didn't answer. As he bared down on the accelerator, his hands screaming in pain, he felt his mind fading, falling into one of his flashbacks. No, he thought. Not this time. I'm getting back to my crew. He had 2nd degree burns, a concussion, probably a sprained ankle- heck he was riding a motorcycle- there was no way he was letting some stupid flashbacks stop him now. Tony grit his teeth, the haziness fading from his mind and giving way to only determination (and a little bit of crazy). And then he drove straight through the garage door.