Cars 2 by Irene Trimble Page A

good,” he said with a thick German accent. “This is valuable equipment. Make sure it is properly secured for the voyage.”
    Gremlins and Pacers surrounded the crate and began closing it up. Apparently, they were sending it away with the cargo boat. Finn made a note to himself to find out where that cargo boat was headed.
    As the secret agent snapped photos, something else caught his attention. A crane lowered another large crate to the deck for Professor Z’s inspection.
    â€œHey, Professor Z!” a Gremlin, aptly named Grem, shouted. “This is one of those British spies we told you about.”
    Professor Z knew exactly who it was: “Agent Leland Turbo.”
    Finn got ready to come out of hiding and fight.

F inn McMissile’s eyes widened when he finally saw Turbo: the agent was already crushed and cubed.
    A blast of flame from the oil derrick suddenly cast Finn’s shadow onto Professor Z. The Professor made eye contact with his nemesis.
    â€œIt’s Finn McMissile!” Professor Z shouted to his thugs, ordering them to chase down the spy.
    Gremlins, Pacers, and other shoddy cars swarmed onto the catwalk closest to Finn. But Finn was faster and more agile. He shot out his cables, latching on to the crane standing tall above the deck. Nimbly, he swung out and drove straight up the crane’s arm, away from the chase. The agent used every trick he could think of to escape. First he released some oil, causing his pursuers to spin out behind him; then he knocked over a stack of oil drums, blocking their path. But when Finn reached the helipad on the top deck of the oil derrick, there was nowhere left to go. The enemy cars surrounded him, their tinny engines whining like a swarm of mosquitoes.
    Finn slammed into reverse…and flung himself off the side of the oil derrick. He hit the water hundreds of feet below.
    Gremlins and Pacers raced to stare down into the turbulent ocean. In a burst of splashing water, Finn surfaced and transformed into a sleek hydrofoil. He sped away from the oil derrick.
    â€œHe’s getting away!” Acer the Pacer shouted.
    â€œNot for long,” a combat ship replied as he released two missiles. The cars on the derrick watched as the missiles exploded. Finn’s motionless silhouette drifted under the surface of the ocean. Shortly afterward, all four of his tires floated to the surface. Professor Z smiled and called off the chase. It had been a wonderful night. Both Finn McMissile and Leland Turbo had been eliminated.
    â€œNow no one can stop us,” Professor Z told his grinning crew.
    But he was wrong: Finn McMissile had transformed into submarine mode and purposely released his tires. As his enemies on the oil derrick turned away, Finn was speeding underwater to return to agency headquarters.

    At the crack of dawn on the following day, halfway around the world, a rusty, dented tow truck named Mater had his eyes fixed on Route 66, smack in the middle of the U.S.A. Lightning McQueen was returning to Radiator Springs fresh from winning the Hudson Hornet Memorial Piston Cup race. Mater couldn’t wait to see him.
    Things had improved mightily since racing champion Lightning McQueen had made Radiator Springs his permanent home. Tourists visited regularly, and the whole dusty town had taken on a shine like a new coat of chrome. And no one enjoyed the reflected glory of Lightning McQueen’s success more than his buddy Mater.
    â€œI’m gonna stay right here in this spot until my best friend, Lightning McQueen, comes home,” Mater said, bleary-eyed and exhausted.
    Lightning’s girlfriend, Sally, was worried. She and Mater were the only two cars in town who were awake.
    â€œMater,” Sally said with a weary sigh, “you’ve been sitting here for seven days.”
    â€œThat’s ’cause I got a special surprise for him, Miss Sally,” Mater replied. “To celebrate his fourth Piston Cup win. And I