Soon enough, the racers have been refuelled and prepped for the next leg from Iceland to Germany. Braedey, Annie, and Dusty were keeping up with the pack now, their agility and control coming into play.
"And remember, it's not speed that wins races, it's skill." Skipper's voice spoke out in their heads.
"You remember the run in Nebraska, don't you, Dusty: horizontal at the blue, vertical at the red." Braedey advised to Dusty.
"Copy that." Dusty acknowledged.
"By the way, congratulations on your run during those trials." Annie said to the two.
"Much obliged." Braedey replied. He then looked ahead. "We've got Bulldog in our sights. Let's keep on his rail."
The planes all kept passing through the blue pylons so they entered it on the horizontal, then the red pylons came up and they now entered it on the vertical knife-edge. It was a crazy G-turn, Braedey now feeling the strength of that turn. He groaned, then he levelled out and carried on alongside Dusty.
Bulldog was up ahead of them, keeping his eye on the course. But then, his left engine suddenly broke down with a shower of sparks coming from his propellor and gearbox mechanism, which jammed and the propeller stopped. Then, a splash of oil sprayed into Bulldog's eyes. He didn't have any windscreen wipers on him, and without anything to clear away the oil, he was effectively blind!!
"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" Bulldog exclaimed, as he now began to lose altitude in a dive and was rolling out of control. "I'm blinded. I can't see!"
Braedey looked to Dusty, the two of them nodding in agreement, knowing what they're going to do, and they dive down towards the injured British aircraft, much to the surprise of Annie.
"What are you two doing?" Annie called out to them.
"Saving a plane's life." Braedey called back.
"We're receiving breaking news of an incident in the skies over Germany involving one of the racers." Brent announced on the TV. "Let's check in with Skycam 1 for more information."
"Bulldog, the legendary flyer from the UK, is in tremendous danger." A red helicopter announced, cameras locked on Bulldog, who was flying half upside down. "It looks like he's flying blind, losing speed, losing altitude... Wait! It's racers number 7 and 95, Cropphopper and McQueen, pulling up beside him." He informed, seeing both Braedey and Dusty diving down to Bulldog.
Dusty and Braedey now pulled up alongside the falling British plane. "Bulldog, apply your left aileron." Dusty guided.
"Okay." Bulldog agreed and flipped back to a proper nose dive.
"Stop roll." Braedey added; Bulldog complied. "Now, quick, pull up."
"Got it." Bulldog said, as the three all pulled upward away from diving into the river below.
"Harder, harder!" Dusty continued on his guidance, as they come up to a bridge. "Slight roll right." Bulldog flew sideways through a gap under the bridge, as they levelled out. "Good! Whoa!"
"Big castle!" Braedey called out. "Pull up!" Braedey, Bulldog, and Dusty all pulled up over to get over the castle.
"Hard roll right!" Dusty calls. Bulldog flew between two pillars of the castle sideways. "Stop roll." Dusty called; Bulldog followed his command, then ran right into a flag that was on the castle.
"Are you two still there?" Bulldog asked, as Dusty and Braedey flew back alongside Bulldog.
"We're right here." Dusty assured. "We'll fly alongside you."
"Just keep focus on our voices, and we'll make it." Braedey reassured over to Bulldog.
All the racers meanwhile came in for the landing, just as an alarm spoke out. "Achtung! We have a mayday! Clear the runway!" A PA announcer ordered, as medics and other vehicles pulled up onto the runway to get ready for Bulldog. "Achtung! Clear the runway!"
Annie, meanwhile, she and El Chupacabra were waiting patiently and concerned for Braedey, Dusty, and Bulldog to land. Everyone had their eyes locked onto the skies above.
"Come on, you guys." Annie muttered hopefully.
"Add power." Dusty advised.
"Okay." Bulldog complied.
"Easy, now." Braedey said. "We're on final approach now. Stay level and focus on our voices."
"Yes." Bulldog complied.
"Good." Dusty said. "Flaps down, lock them." The runway was now in view, and they were closing in.
"Landing gear down." Braedey said.
"Down, and locked." Bulldog said, as his gear came down and locked into place.
"Begin your flare." Dusty said; Bulldog lowering his altitude for landing. "Power back a little." With that, Bulldog landed safely on the runway. "Touchdown!" Dusty exclaimed.
"Great job, Bulldog." Braedey called, landing alongside Dusty as they came to a stop, people cheering out for the three racers. "Good job out there."
An ambulance raced up with its siren wailing loudly. A medical forklift ran up as well, and he began to spray some water over Bulldog's eyes to quickly get rid of the oil off of Bulldog's eyes.
"Thanks for your help, mateys." Bulldog thanked to them. "I couldn't have done it without..." He paused when he noticed Dusty and Braedey as the oil was cleared from his eyes. "You?" Bulldog was rather surprised. "You both saved me? What did I tell you, the both of you?" He questioned them both. "Every plane for himself, right?"
"A good racing machine doesn't leave another behind." Braedey pointed out firmly.
"Where I come from, if you see someone falling from the sky..." Dusty answered but got interrupted.
"Yes, but this is a competition." Bulldog reminded to them. "Now, you're both dead last." He then paused for some seconds, looking down a second. "And I owe both of you my life." His lips quivered and he started to cry, maybe crying for gratitude.
"It's alright." Braedey reassured.
"Are you crying?" Dusty asked.
"I don't cry." Bulldog retorted. "I'm British." He then sighed. "Thanks, maties." Bulldog thanked again.
"Sure thing, Bulldog." Dusty replied.
"Of course. You're welcome, Bulldog." Braedey nodded, just as reporters approached Bulldog to ask him about his frightening ordeal and what had happened just then.
"Well, I gotta say, crop duster, you are a nice guy." Ripslinger complimented, rolling up with Ned and Zed alongside.
"Hey, thanks, Rip." Dusty thanked.
"And we all know where nice guys finish." Ripslinger said. Ned and Zed, both laughed. "Yeah." One of the twins said, as they left.
Braedey snarled, his engine now roaring angrily, and his teeth clenched. He never got this angry with anyone unless it's someone who has really pushed him right off the edge. Ripslinger and his goons turned to look back, and they could see the blue racecar with anger, and he charged at them! The three were about to try something, only for Braedey's to stop right before them, his engine now idling. He kept his stern expression on the three planes.
"You'd best be ready when you least expect it Rip, or I'm gonna break you down to spare parts, and toss them to the sea." Braedey threatened, then he rolled away, spitting smoke from his exhaust pipes at Ripslinger.
~*~*~
At the bar, the music was loud. There were different planes and cars there; apart from the racers. In a corner of the bar, Ishani and Ripslinger were talking. Not audible, though, so nobody would be able to hear what they were saying.
Dusty, Annie, El Chu, and Braedey, with his wingpack retracted, were over by the bar, all of them thinking about what happened. Dusty sighed. "Dead Last."
A German female forklift swirled around with a red canister and Beerstein. "You sad." She said as she pushed the two to Dusty. "You drink." She then drove away to attend other bar members.
"Thanks." Dusty sighed. "Great advice."
"These women aren't really friendly." Braedey said to himself.
El Chupacabra was unhappy. Most likely about something else than being in his current place in the race. "At least you are not last in the race for love." He sniffled.
"Rochelle?" Dusty asked.
"The Canadian air-racer?" Annie asked next.
"Her passion is, sadly, not for me." El Chupacabra sobbed.
"Tough break, El Chu." Dusty said.
"Maybe another time, Buddy." Annie shrugged with her prop.
Then, a little car horn honked and everyone turned to take a look at who blow the horn. Dusty looked to see a small little car before them. The car is a 1954 Taylor Aerocar. He is painted light green, with tan lining. He seems to be pulling something behind him.
"May we help you, sir?" Braedey asked curiously.
"Excuse me." The little car greeted with a German accent. "My name is Franz, and I am a huge fan." He introduced himself to Dusty.
"I have fans?" Dusty was shocked by this.
"Oh, no, no, no." Franz corrected. "Just me." He then noticed Braedey next to Dusty. "And are you Braedey 'Bolt McQueen' Martin?" He asked.
"That's me." Braedey nodded. "What do you wish to say, Franz?"
"I would like to say danke for you two representing all us little planes." Franz said to the two racers.
"Uh..." Dusty thought for a second. "You're a car." He pointed out. Braedey raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Franz agreed. "But I am what you call a Flugzeugauto, one of only six flying cars ever build!" He quickly brought up what he was towing behind him, which happened to be a set of wings and an engine, the wings locking into place on either side of him; transforming the little car into a miniature plane.
"Whoa!" Dusty exclaimed.
"Cool!" Braedey smiled. "It's kinda like my flightpack, only a bit more... bigger."
"Guten Tag, Herr Dusty und Braedey." Franz greeted. "I am Von Fliegenhozen." He now spoke in a deeper German voice.
"Didn't you just say your name was Franz?" Dusty asked in confusion. Annie, El Chu, and Braedey were also confused.
"Nein, nein, nein." Von Fliegenhozen corrected. "Franz is a guy with no spine who is in charge when we putter about the cobblestones." He rolled his eyes. "In the air, I am in charge."
"This guy needs to get his head gasket checked." El Chu whispered to Dusty. "Serious identity issues."
"This from the one wearing a mask?" Von Fliegenhozen retorted.
"Touché." El Chu said.
The little car put the wings away, becoming Franz again. "We are both pulling for you, Herr Dusty und Braedey."
"Thanks for the support." Dusty thanked to the little car. "I need all the help I can get."
"I have a humble suggestion." Franz kindly thought. "Would you not be much faster without the pipes and tank and whatnot weighing you down?" He suggested to Dusty, gesturing to the sprayer under Dusty's wings.
"My sprayer." Dusty realised and sighed. "Again?"
"Why carry around extra weight?" Franz asked.
"He's right, you know." Annie acknowledged. "Even I had my sprayer removed to be able to race."
"The little crazy car and your little sister is right." El Chu spoke his opinion. "Perhaps you need to start thinking like a racer."
"I agree with them. Franz does have a point." Braedey agreed. Dusty thought about what he had just heard.
~*~*~
The next morning, down at a hangar, Dusty was inside getting his pipe and tank off. El Chu, Annie, Braedey, and Franz were all waiting patiently
"This is reversible, right?" Dusty asked inside the hangar. "Oh! Oh. Hey, you're being careful down there, right?" Annie snickered to herself, while Braedey did feel a little uncertain. "Yep, that's cold."
The hangar doors now opened and out came Dusty. "So?" Dusty began in a high-pitched voice. He quickly cleared his voice. "So, what do you think?"
Dusty looked different now: his black stripes are replaced with different-shaped blue stripes, and a black-outlined white circle with the number 7 on his sides and right wing. His name is also inscribed on the sides. His tailplane is also changed from orange to blue.
"I think it is perfect. You look like a normal plane now." Annie said in praise to her big brother.
"She is right. Wunderbar, Dusty." Franz complimented to Dusty.
"You now look like a true racing airplane." Braedey agreed.
"Fantastico." El Chu then laughed. "It is freeing, yes?"
"Yeah, you took the words right out of my mouth." Dusty agreed.
Dusty took a lap around the airport. "Bye-bye, sprayer!" He laughed, then did a quick loop-de-loop before flying level again. Von Fliegenhozen flew next to Dusty. Braedey also flew up with Dusty.
"You look like a whole new plane, Dusty." Braedey announced happily.
"Thanks for everything, Franz..." Dusty re-corrected himself. "Er, Von Fliegenhozen." El Chu then flew up to Dusty as well.
"Guten luck, Herr Dusty und Braedey." Von Fliegenhozen called, then flew back to the airport as the planes and Braedey headed back to the race.
"Much obliged." Braedey called back.