The World Grand Prix Collateral Committee

Witness 113 (and HND)

Out of all the collateral damage caused by the World Grand Prix case, the disruption at Tokyo International Airport, also known as Haneda, was arguably the most significant. One of the runways obtained a massive crater near the terminal, rendering the strip unusable. Flights were delayed by days, if not canceled. Thousands of passengers were stranded and stressed.

By now, several weeks later, the airport had stabilized, though not back to full operations quite yet. The explosion had shocked all of Tokyo, and the airport employees were especially rattled. Residents, activists, and travelers demanded a thorough government investigation, which was already underway.

All of the other C.H.R.O.M.E. jets would give Sid judgmental looks while they gossiped about the disaster at Haneda. But he tried to ignore the whispers. He had saved Tow Mater, who had gone on to basically save the world. That had to negate any damages he'd caused, right?

Besides, Sid's boss held no grudges; he soon found himself on another mission. He would transport an agent from the C.H.R.O.M.E. base in London to Narita International Airport— he'd be recognized too easily at Tokyo International, and the agency's Tokyo station did not have a runway. It made him wonder why C.H.R.O.M.E. even put him on this job, with the extra effort involved to smuggle himself in and out of Japanese airspace.

Although Sid was grateful for the assignment, just to get away from the base gossip, his new passenger rubbed him the wrong way from the start. He could tell from the dark blue SUV's demeanor (shifty, looking Sid up and down, as if he didn't ride on planes a lot) that he was not a field agent. Sid could hear his passenger making himself comfortable, testing out the seat buttons, looking for refreshments— "Or at least a pillow," the SUV muttered. This car sounded like a bloke from administration, expecting all the luxuries of a charter jet.

Just great. The administrative division had arranged this flight just so this car could talk to Sid. He rocked on his tires while waiting for takeoff clearance. One jet sat at the holding point ahead of him.

"Agent Siddeley," the agent called from the cabin, presumably after finding a nice pillow. (Finn had put at least one in there, though Leland was more fond of those things.) "How many missions do you fly a year?"

After a few seconds, Sid finally thought to turn on the intercom system and respond. "Typically three or four a month, provided no repairs are needed."

"That's a rigorous workload. Only for top agents, yes? I hear you frequently collaborate with Finn McMissile."

His turbines skipped a beat. Any conversation that started with Finn never went in a good direction, especially not lately. "Y-Yes, all the time."

"What was your involvement in the World Grand Prix incident?"

Maker, help. "W-Well, I picked him up after he investigated the oil rig. He couldn't make it to shore from out there.... Then I took him to Tokyo. He asked, of course. For a mission. Then I stood by for a couple days while he did... some stuff, I don't really know, and then picked him up. Took him to Paris. Didn't hear from him until after the case was closed."

(And even after the case, the only message he got from Finn went something like, "Going off the grid for a few. No contact. Try not to die.")

The passenger hummed. "Tell me more about Tokyo."

"Er... I haven't done much there personally. It's not very accessible to jets my size—"

"No, no. Tell me about when you picked up McMissile. At the airport. Tokyo International, Haneda, HND, whatever you jets call it."

Sid's spy-sense went haywire. Who was this guy, really, what did he want, and— "Why?"

"You must have seen the massive crater."