#74 Midnight

A/N: My apologies, but I will get onto your suggestions right after this! I just couldn't ignore the idea that came to me here.

Cars and its characters belong to Pixar. I only own the plot.

Designation: Faraman Leland Turbo

Current Residency: Classified

C.H.R.O.M.E. Level: First Class-Field (Deadly)

Expertise: 20+ Years

Academy Attended: C.A.G (C.H.R.O.M.E. Academy of Glasgow)

Current Age: 46

Model: Jaguar

Birth Date: March 14, 1966

Affiliations: C.H.R.O.M.E., CIA, DGSE, MI6

Familiars: Classified

Colleagues: Classified

Cover Occupation: Classified

Aliases: Classified

Current Location: Agent Leland Turbo has been declared Killed in Action since June 24, 2011

Finn's gaze didn't falter from the bright lettered list on the computer screen in front of him—his aqua eyes hadn't strayed for the past ten minutes now. The spacious communications room was surprisingly empty, but the Aston Martin supposed that it would because of the training exhibition several stories down. Two students from the Academy, proving their worth in front of a crowd of C.H.R.O.M.E. heads and several dozen agents themselves. He recollected himself in such a position once, so many years ago. But he hadn't been alone then, either.

The old spy car's gaze remained fixated on the variety of typed words, as if he concentrated enough on his friend's biography then the Jaguar would magically appear of out thin air. The vainest of wishes, of course.

A faint chime echoed through the facility, and Finn finally tore his gaze away. It was the Great Clock of Westminster, or Big Ben, as it was more commonly known, and its echoing gong signaled the change of the hour. The Aston Martin glanced up at the nondescript timepiece against the silver wall out of habit, and found the clock had struck twelve. A new day, and a new dawn.

His aqua eyes flickered towards the computer consol once more. A tremor of uncertainly passed through his gaze, before something hardened behind it. It was time to let go.

With the flick of a switch, the monitor instantly powered off. It felt as if something had faded with it for a moment, before Finn brushed off the feeling, and gave the saddest, chastest of smiles, as decade's worth of memories flashed before his eyes.

"Happy birthday, old friend."

A/N: For those who do not know, today is Michael Cain's 79th birthday. I wrote this in his honor, as well as Leland's, and I thought it would be ironic if both of their birthdays were on the same day. So...enjoy, and review I guess :)