Need for Speed (18 page)

Read Need for Speed Online

Authors: Brian Kelleher

“Marshall's balls have been located!” Monarch roared. “And they are large!”

Tobey felt good about his move, too. The Saleen was right in front of him with the McLaren right behind. But the two police cars were still heading right at the racers, with a convergence speed of more than 250 miles an hour. And no one was giving up their position.

Suddenly the race transformed into a massive game of chicken, with the six supercars coming from one direction and the two speeding police cars coming from the other.

Luckily, the cops blinked first.

At the very last instant, both cruisers jammed on their brakes and skidded to the side of the road. Clouds of burnt rubber filled the air as they tailspun themselves onto the dirt shoulder.

The supercars went by them like six gunshots. But the cops were not out of it. Both spun their cars around, gained the pavement again, and, sirens still screaming, began a pursuit.

A short distance up the road, an unsuspecting civilian car was traveling in the same direction as the racers. Coming up on it at lightning speed was the Bugatti and Dino's Lamborghini. Dino was drafting off English Paul and trying to time the moment before they both overtook the civilian car. But his indecision got the best of him. He swung out to pass the Bugatti, but acted too late. English Paul matched his speed and then some, closing the door on Dino. Slamming his fist against his steering wheel, Dino was forced back into second place.

* * *

But then more police interference came into play. The police helicopter appeared again, this time swooping in very low over the tops of the cars before heading farther down the racecourse. Once it was about a half mile in front of them, it suddenly pulled up into a hover. Then its pilot brought his aircraft down very low and went into a crab maneuver, flying sideways just a few feet off the pavement, essentially blocking the road.

“The cops are trying everything possible to stop my race!” Monarch yelled into his microphone. “Get that bird out of here! People will die. Let's hope English Paul doesn't back down.”

The Bugatti was the first racer to come upon the copter—but English Paul showed no signs of slowing down. If anything, he started going faster. The helicopter pilot saw this and panicked. He jerked up on his controls and climbed a few feet just seconds before causing a devastating collision.

The Bugatti slid through the narrow space below the copter's landing skids. In rapid order, the other racers safely zoomed underneath the copter as well.

But the copter's crabbing maneuver had really just been a delaying tactic, a trick to throw off the racers. Because yet another police car was waiting up ahead. Its police officer was preparing to throw a spike strip across the road. Any tire hitting it would explode immediately. As the racers were traveling practically bumper to bumper and in excess of 150 mph at the moment, such a blowout would cause a catastrophic pileup.

The cop threw the spike strip out onto the asphalt nevertheless, just as the Bugatti was approaching. But again, English Paul was a real pro. Spying a narrow gap between the spikes and the cop who threw them, he expertly threaded the needle, zooming right through the tiny opening and scaring the cop half to death.

The rest of the cars followed the Bugatti's line and avoided the strip as well. Another police tactic had been foiled.

Throughout all this Tobey was able to maintain his strong position and stay in fourth place. The farmlands of Mendocino were blurring by him now as he roared along at close to 160 mph, accelerating all the time. He hoped the cops would realize the futility of their tactics and just let them be.

But no such luck.

First one, then two, slowly moving police cars now appeared on the roadway, again heading right at the racers. These two were zigzagging back and forth in what law enforcement called a rolling road block. All the racers saw them and knew timing their way past them would be crucial in preventing another potential disaster.

The Bugatti was on them in seconds. In another display of fantastic driving, English Paul perfectly split the two zigzagging police cars. Dino went right behind him, mimicking the Bugatti's maneuver but coming very close to clipping both police cars in the process.

The Saleen S7 came rocketing by next. Gooch expertly moved around the path of the first cruiser in a loud screeching drift that was a success. But the maneuver put the Saleen directly into the path of the second cruiser, which was now blocking its path.

Doomed, Gooch had no other choice. He put the slanted front grille of the Saleen right under the second cruiser's fender and launched the cop car as if it were going off a ski jump. The cruiser went completely airborne, spun around, and then came crashing to the ground. It skidded for a long time on its side before finally coming to a smoky, dusty halt, the cops inside mightily stunned.

The Saleen had taken a fatal blow, though. It bottomed out and ground to a halt in a shower of sparks and smoke.

Monarch came out of his seat.

“The Gooch has been taken out!” he roared. “He's completely gone! The Saleen is out because of police interference!”

Luckily Tobey saw the whole thing, again like it was happening in slow motion. He'd watched English Paul start his maneuver and how Dino followed him through. But then Gooch caught it—rather heroically, but abruptly ending his race. Tobey came up on the Saleen's crash just seconds after it happened but was able to rocket by the mayhem, bursting through the storm of smoke left by Gooch's demise.

When he could see daylight again, Tobey found himself in third place.

“British Paul still holds first,” Monarch reported. “Dino is still in second, but Tobey Marshall has moved into third. We're down to five cars, people!”

Monarch was not only following the action on his video monitors. He was also hacking into the highway patrol's communications as they tried to disrupt the race. Most of what he heard was typical Smokey stuff—locations and status, with some bitching about how none of their tactics had worked so far. But then he heard something that chilled him right to the bone. In among the static and chatter, someone spoke three words: “Deadly force authorized.”

Monarch thought to himself,
Are they going to start shooting at us?

* * *

The racers left the rolling hills of coastal Mendocino and entered the famous Redwoods Forest.

They were stacked up again. Bumper to bumper, there was only a second between the Bugatti in the lead and the GTA bringing up the rear.

The police copter was still overhead, but its pilots could no longer see the supercars because of the thick canopy of gigantic trees. But this did not mean the racers would have smooth sailing.

Just the opposite.

Tobey rocketed through the forest, still in third, stuck on Dino's bumper. Suddenly he saw a bus in the lane straight ahead. At the same moment, a fully-loaded logging truck appeared, coming at the racers from the other direction.

The truck driver saw the handful of racers approaching at 150 mph and blew his horn—but it was too late. He gave a few feet on the side of the road—and it was enough for English Paul, Dino, and Tobey to roar through. But the McLaren, the bus, and the truck all crossed paths at the same time.

The McLaren's side mirrors shattered in twin explosions of glass and carbon fiber. That's how closely Texas Mike had to thread the needle between the bus and the truck. The maneuver seemed to last an eternity for him, but then he saw daylight and a long straightaway ahead of him and knew he was safely clear.

The truck driver had no such luck. His rig jackknifed, its trailer swinging around and unleashing its load of freshly cut trees. Huge logs bounced down the road, one of them sideswiping Johnny V's GTA Spano, causing him to lose control.

Then, at the worst possible moment, another police car suddenly appeared on the racetrack. It had been driving behind the logging truck, but an instant after the truck driver skidded, the cruiser crashed head-on into the GTA Spano.

Monarch was livid.

“The Spano just took a cop car to the face!” he yelled into his microphone. “Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Johnny V! The winner's prize is getting smaller because we only have four cars left!”

* * *

The remaining supercars raced through the strobing Redwoods Forest. They were rocketing along, all in a line, over the two-lane blacktop, at 185 mph.

But up ahead, law enforcement had yet another obstacle waiting for them—the first after Monarch had intercepted the “deadly force authorized” message.

An empty cruiser had been hidden behind a huge redwood tree. Its engine was turned on and its accelerator was racing madly. The pack of racers, still flying along with just millimeters separating them, were unknowingly heading toward this hidden, empty cruiser, English Paul's Bugatti still in the lead.

Just an instant before the pack arrived, a cop standing nearby reached into the cruiser. His billy club had been keeping the gas pedal jammed to the floor. Now he put the car's transmission into drive and murderously launched the cruiser right into the path of the oncoming racers.

English Paul almost made it past the driverless cruiser; his car's tremendous speed almost came through. But his back end was clipped by the cruiser's front end, and the Bugatti simply exploded. The momentum from the blast sent the car spinning off the road and into the forest, where it pinballed off several of the ancient trees before finally coming to a fiery, smoky halt.

Monarch was incensed. Suddenly he knew what “deadly force” meant.

He told his listeners, “The Bugatti just got taken out by an empty police car. The cops are playing dirty and they're playing God. And it's not right, my children.”

But as so often happens in racing, one driver's tragedy was another driver's opportunity. And so it was for Tobey.

A moment before the Bugatti got wrecked, Dino had stood on his brakes and gone wide, avoiding becoming entangled in the carnage. It showed some outstanding driving on Dino's part, but it was exactly what Tobey had been waiting for.

Instead of hitting his brakes and mimicking Dino, Tobey stood on his accelerator instead and split the gap between the Elemento and the leftovers of the Bugatti wreck.

It all happened in a flash. It was so quick, Tobey actually closed his eyes in the last instant of this maneuver—it was that tight and dangerous.

But when he opened his eyes again, he was in first place.

And Monarch was excited again.

“Tobey Marshall is running first!” he yelled. “The blue-collar kid from Mount Kisco is very close to wearing Cinderella's slipper!”

An instant later, Tobey exited the Redwoods Forest. He was topping 175 mph and heading for the Pacific Coast Highway. Behind him was the McLaren, and behind the McLaren was a very pissed-off Dino.

The road split in two here—one direction went straight, and the other went to the left. Tobey drifted left at 160 mph, knowing that's where the finish line lay. Texas Mike and Dino did the same thing. But they also spotted four police cars coming straight at them before they turned.

These police cars joined the others, and now there was an all-out chase on the racecourse. A half-dozen cruisers were in pursuit of the remaining race cars.

But Monarch was on top of it.

“Most cop cars top out at one thirty, max,” he told his listeners angrily. “My racers go almost twice that. So good luck catching up, Smokey. We'll let you know who wins.”

* * *

Thousands of people all over the world were following the race via Monarch's broadcast.

Benny was one of them. He was in a military jail cell in Nevada, along with the rest of the crew of the purloined Super Stallion helicopter. They were all charged with misuse of government property. But they had all become great friends by this time, and Benny had made street racing fans out of all of them. Their guards had let them listen to Monarch's play-by-play on Benny's iPad, and the copter crew was cheering just as loudly as Benny anytime Tobey made a move.

Joe Peck and Finn were also listening in. They were in the Beast, parked in the hospital lot right outside Julia's hospital room, cheering on their friend while staying close to her, because they knew that's what Tobey would want them to do.

The huge audience also included Julia herself, who, though still in her hospital bed, was recovering at a rapid pace. She was listening to Monarch's broadcast on her laptop, and she was screaming like a banshee at every turn of the race, even more so than the Marshall Motors team.

“C'mon, Tobey!” she'd cried over and over. “Push it! Get there!
Push it!

She'd taken to steering the laptop as if it were the wheel of Tobey's car. She was even leaning right and left at all the curves, as if she was right there in the car with him.

Her screams got so loud, they eventually brought the floor nurse hurrying into her room, thinking something was wrong.

“Sorry about that,” Julia apologized to her. “It's just that a friend of mine—or, I should say, a
very
good friend of mine—is in a car race right now, and he's in the lead. It's very exciting.”

The nurse looked at her skeptically.

“Is it your boyfriend?” she asked.

Julia began to answer, but then stopped herself for a second.

“Well, at the moment,” she finally replied, “I think he considers me just a little bit more than a good right– seater.”

The nurse rolled her eyes, checked Julia's monitors, and then turned to go.

“Any girl who screams like that for a guy?” she said over her shoulder. “Honey, you better make sure he's your boyfriend.”

* * *

The three surviving race cars were now flying down the Pacific Coast Highway.

Their drivers weren't paying any attention to the beautiful scenery, though. Such things as pounding surf and the sparkling ocean tend to get lost at 170 mph.

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