i am ashamed
Taejo did not demand a lot. He had given up recognition and success, autonomy. He had given up so much, and all he asked, the only thing, was that his dignity be left intact. Being forced to betray his natural skill- to deny himself the victory he deserved- was simply unacceptable. If he didn’t race well enough, it wasn’t just his pride that would suffer; his father’s business could be fractured. And they would lose everything. Cruncher Block was a cartoon, and Taejo Togokhan was not to be pushed around by a cartoon. It was... genuinely unfortunate that the cartoon was so well equipped. “You really seemed like such a nice guy,” Block sighed, fingers crossed in front of him. “So easy to work with. I just don’t get what the problem is.” He stood up from his fancy oak desk, tossing an apple in one of his thick, scar-covered hands. By his sides were two of his mobsters, and then the big one- the one with the arms that could easily dangle Taejo’s entire body over the edge of some half-finished building- stood just behind the chair they had Taejo tied to. Block straightened his tie. “I just don’t get how much times we have to teach you this lesson.” He set down his apple on the desk, and stooped in front of his bound prisoner’s face. “We told you to pull out of the race, so you’re going to pull out of the race. You understand?” Taejo bared his teeth. His mouth sort of tasted like blood, but that was okay. The entire cramped office kind of smelled like death already. “I do not take orders from apes like you,” he snarled, tugging at the ropes that held him solidly to the chair. Block shook his head. “See? This is what I don’t get.” At once, a meaty hand reached out to grab Taejo’s jaw, tilting it thoughtfully to the side so he could fit a long, silvery blade against the hook of his chin. “X is the only one who’s got your back on this. You know Racer is going to bow out. And no matter what X says he can do to me, I’ll tell you this- before he can even lay a finger, I’ll have cut off your hands and shipped them to your old man in a cardboard box. And I’ll ruin your sister’s pretty face, too- leave Togokhan with two cripple kids to look after and a dying company. I might get caught for it, but that can’t change what I’m going to do to you if you don’t pull out of the Casa Cristo now.“ Taejo squirmed, but the blade was so close to drawing blood that he didn’t get far. Plus, there was no way to deny how he got cold when Block started threatening Horuko- not to mention the fact that he was right. Speed was going to back out of the race. Speed wasn’t going to drive with him. And he needed Speed Racer to drive with him. “You understand me, Taejo?” Block repeated. “You want your family to be okay? Want to be able to hold a steering wheel next time you drive? Then you’re going to drop out. And I’m going to make sure that if you don’t, your life becomes hell.” He smiled and pulled his knife away, putting it to better use peeling the apple. Taejo watched him make each calculated slice. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Taejo. You’re a very smart man.” The tone, designed just to get under his skin, was irritatingly effective. “Now I’m going to have some fellows walk you to the registration office, and you’re going to withdraw your team from the running. Okay?” Taejo stared at him in muted anger, but he said nothing. He felt as if this man was trying to bridle his spirit and he was starting to see no choice but to take the bit. To force himself into submission. Giving up his dignity seemed to be the only way to protect his sister and keep his family alive, and he hated that, but he remained silent nonetheless. Not worth the risk. “Very good,” Blocker said, smiling his fake smile. “I knew we’d come to an understanding. I’ll be checking back in soon, yeah?” Taejo was hauled to his feet and dragged quickly and efficiently from the room.
The car ride was silent. An appointed watchman sat on either side of Taejo, leaving him stuck in the middle as the driver pushed them on through the velvet night. No one said much of anything, which was kind of a relief. Taejo didn’t want to hear their voices. They’d been driving along the silent highway for maybe half an hour when the driver took a glance in the rearview. “Headlights been following us three turns now,” she said, somewhat warily. “You think it’s him?” At once, Taejo’s heart sped up. Maybe it was X. Their last meeting hadn’t gone so well, but if it was X then he’d certainly be here to help, and he’d get Taejo out of this. “Nah,” one of the guards drawled. “He was at Thunderhead an hour ago. Ain’t no way he got here that quick.” And Taejo fell right back to disappointment. A couple minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness before the driver spoke again. “They’re still behind us. Getting closer.” “Ain’t him,” the same guard grunted again. “Just let em pass.” The driver slowed, and Taejo turned his head to the window. Behind him he could hear the sound of an engine that sounded far too beefy for a normal vehicle revving up and pulling alongside, and then he saw the streak of white and red and he realized immediately who was out there. Taejo leaned over and opened the driver’s side door. The wind came howling into the backseat, and both guards snapped their heads toward him in mechanical synchronization. “Racer!” Taejo shouted, as the rushing air swallowed his voice and blew his unkempt hair directly into his eyes. It would be a wonder if Speed heard him, but the car outside slowed down nonetheless until he could see through the Mach Five’s cockpit and look directly at the round, boyish face of Speed Racer. What he was doing out here Taejo did not know. Nor did he really have time to care. When one of the guards grabbed him, Taejo swung around and threw an elbow into his nose. In the same instant, the driver slammed on the brakes, and he went tumbling over the center console into the front seat. His nose kind of hurt right off the bat, maybe something to do with how he’d smashed his face into the dash. Maybe. The car swerved because he’d kicked the driver in the arm, and there was a shudder and a grind as the sleek black sedan rammed right into Speed. The guards were yelling and scrambling around in the backseat, and as soon as Taejo was somewhat facing upward, he had a hand on the driver’s throat. It didn’t take much. Part of the tutelage Taejo had received growing up, part of his elite schooling, had involved various forms of hand-to-hand combat. Karate was a natural choice, of course, but he preferred something gritty and American- Jailhouse Rock was his favored style. It was loose and adaptive enough to work both in tournament settings and, for instance, when one had to quickly disable the driver of a moving car before something truly catastrophic happened. It took three (very sloppy) punches to the face for the driver to relinquish her hold on the wheel long enough for Taejo to kick on the emergency brake and swing the car way to the right. The back end skidded and started to slide, spinning to an unhappy stop. Everything lurched. When things stopped moving Taejo went scrambling for the door handle. Speed was there. He’d drifted to an extraordinarily beautiful stop with his passenger door open and his face all full of panic watching as Taejo stumbled out of the violently purring car and started towards the Mach Five. The two guards were maybe an inch or two behind him when he dove into the red leather seats and Speed stomped on the accelerator. The scream that either behind them probably meant a dinner had been caught in the door, but Soeed didn’t slow. The Mach Five roared down the quiet country road at a downright irresponsible velocity. “Are you okay?” Speed demanded with all the usual intensity in his voice. Something inside Taejo went gooey, just like it normally did hearing Racer talk like that. “Fine,” he rasped, lighting himself in his seat. “Thank you.” “Who were those guys?” Speed went on, accelerating around a car that just wasn’t going fast enough. “Saw them grab you after dinner and I had no idea what was happening...” Taejo hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much Speed knew about his history with Blocker, and he wasn’t exactly keen on giving too much away if he didn’t have to. Still, though... this was Speed he was talking about. “Fixers,” he muttered darkly. “They were trying to get us to pull out of the Casa Cristo.” He glanced over at the driver, trying to gauge his reaction, and he saw only a slight tightening of the jaw. “Why?” “They’re afraid we might win.” Again, Speed said nothing. He wasn’t officially in for the race, and honestly Taejo had his doubts he ever would be, but it was worth a try.... “You’re serious about this?” Speed asked slowly. “Sticking it to Royalton?” “Of course,” Taejo said, despite the sudden pain in his lung. “Then you’ll have me on your side.” Speed glanced behind to make sure they were free of pursuit, and eased off on the gas. “As long as we can hurt that purple rat, I’m in.” “Excellent.” There was a constant, piercing pain now in his left lung and it was... very bothersome. “You’ll be coming to Casa Cristo alone, then.” “No. Trixie’s coming too.” The pain got very much worse. “I see.” Taejo honestly didn’t know if Speed and Trixie were really an item or if that was just an elaborate inside joke the Racers liked to share. It bothered him either way. Especially when he was so caught up thinking of ways he could pay Speed back for the help. “Hey,” Speed said, with slight hesitation. “Maybe sometime I can pay you back. For helping me get to Royalton.” Ah. This was getting very awkward indeed.
