"Yes, Mr. Quackenbush," Mike said to the receiver, "Micky's sick and we won't be able to come in for a few days. Thanks, Mr. Quackenbush. Goodbye." Mike hung up the phone and turned to Von Klutz. The former Baron was standing nearby, a gun pointed at Peter's head.
"Very good, Tex." Von Klutz sneered, lowering the gun. "Now nobody will suspect where you and your buddies are."
It was now the next morning. The Monkees had been chained up inside tires during the night and Mike and Peter had been brought up into the house so Mike could make his phone call. Now Mike just stared back at the German, hatred in his eyes. Von Klutz ignored the look and motioned for them to go back down into the garage. When they returned, Mike and Peter were chained up with Micky once again. Davy stood next to them, wearing clothes given him by the spies.
"Now the next part is up to you and Wolfgang, little Englishman." Von Klutz smiled, "The 'Super-mobile' has already been registered. Now you two will go to the speedway to drop off the car and register the driver. Also you two will stay for the orientation and all those boring speeches about rules and regulations."
"Which car will I take, Herr Baron?" Wolfgang asked.
"You can take the Volkswagen." Von Klutz answered, "Davy shall take the 'Super-mobile' and drive it to the speedway and park it where it is assigned to, right?"
"Yes." Davy replied sullenly.
"Then you two will return in the Volkswagen. I will keep these other Yankees entertained."
"We will do as you say, Mein Herr." Wolfgang replied.
"Just remember, English." Von Klutz said to Davy. "Any trickery on your part and your friends die."
Davy nodded and climbed into the 'Super-mobile' while Wolfgang climbed into the VW. Von Klutz opened the garage door and Wolfgang and then Davy drove away. The former Baron shut the garage door and pulled up a chair next to his prisoners.
"While we wait for them to return, let me tell you some stories about my service to the glorious third Reich." He said.
~~~~~~
Davy followed Wolfgang over to the Los Angeles Motor Speedway. He desperately wanted to do something to get the attention of a policeman, but knew Von Klutz would kill his friends in retaliation. Soon the Speedway came into view and Wolfgang and Davy drove over to the garages off to one side. Wolfgang told the attendant what car it was and Davy was instructed to drive the car to bay number thirteen. Davy did as he was told and Wolfgang waited for him to park the car and come out.
There must be fifty cars, Davy thought to himself as he looked at all the cars being pulled into their assigned spots. Then Wolfgang drove them over to the drivers' entrance and they went inside. There were other drivers and their crews doing the same thing.
Once inside, Davy and Wolfgang went over to the registration table.
"What is your name?" The man behind the table asked Davy.
"David Thomas." Davy replied, using the name he had been told to use.
"Are you the driver?"
"Yes sir."
"For which car?" The man asked, writing it all down.
"The 'Super-mobile', number thirteen for Mister Hans Schmidt."
"Your name, sir?" He asked Wolfgang.
"Steven Kaye." Wolfgang said, "I am part of the pit crew for Herr Schmidt's car. Two others will be with me tomorrow."
Davy looked sharply at Wolfgang. He didn't expect this.
"What are their names?" The man asked.
"Michael Smith and Peter Trane." Wolfgang replied.
The man behind the desk handed badges to Davy and Wolfgang. "Here are badges for you two and the other two. These ID badges must be worn at all times tomorrow." He said, "There will be foreign dignitaries viewing the race and security will be very tight."
"We'll do that." Wolfgang nodded.
"The room behind me is where orientation will be. You'll be told there what time to report tomorrow and have any of your questions answered." The man said.
"Thank you." Davy replied.
"Ok, good luck tomorrow."
You have no idea how much I need it, Davy thought to himself as he and Wolfgang left the table.