Need for Speed (8 page)

Six

A GOOD EXAMPLE
of just how affluent some residents of the Mount Kisco area were could be found about ten miles east of town.

It was called the Shepperton Motor Club, but essentially it was a private racetrack. While its owners were always quick to point out that it was more than just a place for the mega-rich to race their mega-expensive cars—that it was also a resort, a training ground, and a retreat—the truth was, in these things, size mattered. And Shepperton was nearly twice the size of the Mount Kisco country club, that rattrap closer to town.

In addition to all those other amenities, Shepperton boasted a 4.2-mile track that snaked its way through 175 acres of strategically placed woods, finely mowed lawns, and low grassy shoulders. It featured many grand corners, built with the great European tracks in mind, and had more than a mile and a half of straightaways, four hundred feet of elevation changes, and twenty-two turns, including three hairpins.

Membership there was ultra-exclusive; only about 1 percent of the 1 percent could get in, and the dues ran into the high six figures. Anyone owning what would be considered less than a typical supercar would be best off trying to get their kicks somewhere else.

This was why Tobey, despite his love for all things cars and racing, had never been past its gates. Until now.

* * *

The day had dawned bright and fiery, covering the private racetrack with bloodred colors. Tobey and Little Pete were the first to arrive. Passing through the security check as invited members of Dino Brewster, they drove slowly up the winding road leading to the main field.

“I've died and gone to heaven,” Little Pete whispered on seeing the facilities, which included rows of well-maintained private garages, equipment buildings, and fuel houses. “I've always wondered what this place looked like up close.”

“Me, too,” Tobey sighed.

They rolled the Mustang off the flatbed truck, handling it with the utmost care. Once done, they both took a good look around.

“Where is everybody?” Pete asked, checking the time.

“I guess we're early,” Tobey said.

He was glad for this—he wanted some time to think about what would come next.

He walked over to the Mustang and ran his hand along its roofline. He knew every inch of the supercar—every part, every gasket, every nut, screw, and bolt. The Super Mustang really
was
a work of art. He was proud of it, and proud of the Marshall team for doing such a great job.

Then he looked out onto the track. It was untouched so far for the day. Glistening. Inviting. Dewdrop perfect.

Little Pete knew Tobey well. He studied his friend as Tobey took turns admiring the car and then glancing out on the empty racetrack. Pete could almost hear the wheels spinning in Tobey's head. He knew what he was thinking.

“Tobey?” he said to him. “Tobey . . .”

But Tobey didn't reply.

So Little Pete walked up beside him and looked out on the track as well.

Then he said, “You've got to do it, bro.”

* * *

Not a minute later, Tobey was behind the wheel of the Shelby Mustang, tearing around the racetrack.

He went through the first big turn at 180 mph—but that was just the beginning. He and his car were just warming up.

He shifted up to sixth gear, came out of the turn, and stomped on the accelerator. The speedometer began climbing.

 . . .190 . . . 200 . . . 210 . . .

A moment later he was rocketing down the first straightaway at an ungodly speed—exactly what the supercar had been designed to do.

Now it was up to him to prove his claims were true.

He went into the next turn high on the bank. That it cost him a few extra moments to take the longer line didn't bother him. This was all about building speed. Coming off the high bank, he would achieve a slingshot effect—or so he hoped. He needed all the velocity he could get so he could crank the Mustang up to the magic 230 mph on the next straightaway, before he ran out of road again.

Little Pete was standing alone back in the pits near the high turn. Tobey caught a glimpse of him in the microsecond it took to go by. He just barely saw that Pete had his hands up to his ears, trying to block out the noise of the Super Mustang's super engine.

That's a good sign,
he thought.

Then Tobey hit the straightaway and put one eye on his speedometer.

It began to creep above 220 . . . 222 . . . 223 . . .

* * *

Back in the pits, Little Pete had taken his hands away from his ears, only to hear someone screaming. He turned to see Dino running toward him like a madman. He was pointing wildly at the Mustang as it rocketed around the next turn.

“
Stop him!
” Dino was screaming at Pete. “Goddammit!
Stop him!
”

* * *

Two minutes later, Tobey pulled into the pit area and climbed out of the Mustang. He was smiling broadly, a rarity.

But then Dino appeared, and the smile was gone.

“What
the fuck
are you doing, Marshall?” Dino screamed at him. “You don't own this car! You don't get to joyride in it!”

Tobey kept his cool. He just walked away from him.

“Top speed's a little over two thirty,” he called over his shoulder to Dino. “We did it.”

But Dino wasn't really listening. He grabbed Tobey, his fist reared back ready to punch him. But Tobey was much quicker. He caught Dino's arm and held it firm, making any punch impossible. Still, they were just seconds away from a major brawl.

Suddenly, a female voice rose above the fray.

“According to this . . .” the voice said.

It was enough to freeze Dino and Tobey in place. They looked up to see Julia, as beautiful as ever, holding up a radar gun.

“According to this,” she said again, “it's true . . . Tobey hit two thirty . . .”

A man in an expensive suit was standing next to her. He had binoculars around his neck.

He was Mark Ingram, filthy rich, playboy-ish, a ranking member at Shepperton, and the owner of many high-performance cars.

“That was some driving, son,” Ingram said to Tobey. “And that's one hell of a car.”

He looked at the Super Mustang again and then back at the small group in the pits.

“And it's gonna cost me three million?” he asked.

Dino looked over at Julia and then back at Ingram.

“Yes, sir,” Dino said. “It is.”

“Two point seven . . .” Julia piped up.

Dino looked back at her with dark eyes. But she had no problem staring him down.

Ingram broke the stalemate. “If Julia says it's worth two point seven,” he said. “I'll pay two point seven . . . take it or leave it.”

* * *

It was official just a few minutes later.

Ingram wrote Dino a check for $2.7 million without blinking an eye. Then, to celebrate his purchase, he put on a racing helmet, got behind the wheel of the Mustang and roared away.

This should have been a special moment for all involved, but Dino ruined that. He was still ready to kill Tobey.

“What
the hell
were you thinking?” he half screamed at him again. “If you had wrecked that car—or blown the engine, or anything, this whole deal would have been fucked.”

Tobey remained cool. “But none of that happened,” he replied casually. “And we sold the car, didn't we? I thought that was the whole point.”

But then Little Pete butted in. “You never could have gotten that car to two thirty. Even on a track. Only Tobey could do that—and that's why the guy bought it.”

But Dino was still glaring at Tobey. This wasn't about money. This was about ego—and Dino's was supersized.

“You think you're a better driver than me, Marshall?” he hissed at Tobey.

But before Tobey could reply, Little Pete butted in again.

“I
know
he's a better driver than you,” he told Dino.

Dino suddenly turned on Little Pete.

“You know, I'm about done with you,” he said angrily, taking a step in Pete's direction.

Tobey was immediately in Dino's face.

“Back off, Dino,” he warned him.

But Dino would not relent. He was fuming.

“I'll beat you on a road,” he seethed at Tobey. “On a track, on the dirt, or anywhere else you want to race. You name it, Marshall.”

But Little Pete laughed in Dino's face.

“Last time I checked,” he said, “Tobey beat you every time you raced in high school.”

“Well, a lot's happened since high school, little man,” Dino spit back at him.

Little Pete straightened himself up to his full diminutive height—but Tobey interceded once again. He was trying hard to play peacemaker.

“You're the man,” he told Dino. “You're the pro. Okay? You got nothing to prove to me. Let's just move on.”

But Dino was just not buying it. The veins in his head looked like they were all going to pop.

“No,” he said. “Let's race. If you win, I give you my seventy-five-percent cut of the Mustang deal. You lose, you give me your twenty-five percent.”

Tobey froze. The prospect of such big money gave him pause—and stopped him from thinking clearly, at least for the moment. He couldn't help it—$2.7 million? That kind of money could change everything for him.

“Well,” he said, “that would make it interesting.”

Before he could say another word, Dino told him, “I'll pick you guys up at your shop, four o'clock . . . Just be ready.”

With that, Dino stormed away.

But Tobey was confused.

“What are we racing?” he called after Dino. “And where?”

But Dino never replied.

Seven

THE MOST EXPENSIVE
house inside the Mount Kisco city limits was an enormous Tudor-style mansion located in an east side gated community known as Guard Hill.

It was late afternoon when the black Mercedes sedan sped past this mansion's wrought iron gates and roared up the long driveway that led to the grand home.

No sooner had the Mercedes stopped at the front door than Little Pete excitedly jumped out of the backseat. Dino and Tobey climbed out of the front seats with somewhat less enthusiasm and joined him.

“That's the biggest house I've ever seen,” Little Pete exclaimed.

“It's my uncle's place,” Dino said. “He's in Monaco or someplace.”

Tobey and Pete continued to gape at the mansion. As with the Shepperton Motor Club, they had heard of this place, but had never gotten any closer to it than driving by its front gate.

Dino noted their fascination and was ready to take advantage of it. He put on a pair of leather driving gloves he'd taken from his pocket, then pushed them along.

“C'mon,” he told them. “I want to show you something.”

Dino had been virtually silent since picking them up; Tobey didn't know what he was up to, exactly. They followed him around the side of the mansion and up to a pristine parking garage. It was almost as impressive as the main house.

“Get ready to piss your pants,” Dino told them. He dramatically pushed a button on the side of the building, and three garage doors opened automatically.

Inside, sitting in separate bays, were three of the most fantastic cars Tobey had ever seen.

They were Koenigsegg Ageras. Designed and built in Sweden, they were aptly known as “hypercars.” Ultra sleek and very low to the ground, they looked like they'd been conceived by someone one hundred years in the future, or perhaps an ET. A wealthy ET. Extremely rare and extremely expensive, their tires alone cost tens of thousands of dollars. With modifications, a complete racing car could run more than $4 million.

The mansion was past history to Tobey and Little Pete now. They had only heard of these incredible cars, and seen photographs. To be in their presence was almost overwhelming.

“These aren't even legal in the United States,” Dino told them. “They've got no registration, no plates—so technically, they don't exist.”

Tobey didn't want to believe what he thought was happening.

“Why are you showing these to us?” he asked Dino. “Just to prove your family has money?”

Dino just laughed at him. “No, you hick,” he said. “This is what we're going to race in. Winner takes the two point seven million.”

“And there's three of them,” Pete said, still awestruck.

“This is what the real pros drive,” Dino went on. “Zero to one twenty in eight seconds. Top speed—well, who knows? Are you afraid of that much power, Marshall?”

Pete laughed at the comment. “But Dino,” he said. “I thought you didn't go faster than one eighty?”

Dino finally snapped. He grabbed Little Pete by the jacket and roughly pulled him over.

“You got a big mouth for someone who's just a fan,” he growled at Pete.

“Then let me race,” Pete spit right back at him.

Once again, Tobey had to step in. He pulled the two combatants apart.

“Okay, happy to have you, Petey,” Dino said. “Like you said, we've got three cars. So one of them is for you.”

Little Pete couldn't believe it. “Awesome!” he shouted. “I'm in.”

But Tobey didn't like this. These cars were way out of their league, Dino included. And while he knew he'd have to go up against his rival, if not for the $2.7 million, then only to shut him up, involving Pete in the race sounded a little too dangerous.

“It's better if you sit this one out,” Tobey told his friend. “The other guys would never believe you did it anyway.”

But Dino laughed darkly. “Let him be a big boy, to match his big mouth,” he told Tobey, pointing to the three cars. “We've got three identical Ageras. It's an even playing field. So, let's do it.”

Tobey was still trying to process just what kind of insanity was taking place. He'd had no idea this was what Dino had in mind.

Dino held out a hat. It contained three sets of keys.

“Finish line is the end of the bridge over Route 684,” he told them. “It should be lit up by the time we get there.”

Little Pete reached into the hat and pulled out a key. Dino drew next, then Tobey.

Pete excitedly pointed his key toward the Koenigseggs and the one on the end lit up. He hustled over to it; Tobey was right on his heels.

He said to Pete, “Listen to me . . . Don't mess with him. Let me race him. You stay out of it and just go for a nice ride.”

But Pete just shook his head.

“Relax, Tobey,” he said. “You know I'm a good driver. I got this.”

But Tobey was still concerned for his friend.

“You've got to go easy,” he warned him. “Your Camaro has what—480 horse? This thing has like 950 . . .”

Dino interrupted.

“More like 1140 . . .” he said.

Tobey shook his head again. Even though the idea of racing a car with that much horsepower excited him to no end, he was getting a bad feeling about this.

But then Pete turned back to him.

“This is my vision, bro,” he said. “This is how I saw you winning the De Leon. You beat Dino. You take his car and win. Plus, if we both beat him, he'll have to move out of the country or something . . .”

Tobey smiled. He really loved his “little brother.” And it was hard to argue with him.

“Okay, but just play it smart,” he told Pete.

Pete gave him a thumbs-up and then jumped into the hypercar.

“Time to rock and roll!” he yelled.

* * *

The intersection of Routes 76 and 184 was about a mile outside downtown Mount Kisco. It was the crossing of two little-used roads and one of many approaches the locals could use to get on Interstate 684.

It was late afternoon now and quiet. A car was stopped at the intersection, waiting for the light to change. Meanwhile another car was approaching from Route 184, traveling in the slow lane.

Suddenly a loud roar shattered the peaceful scene. A second later Dino's Koenigsegg appeared out of nowhere. It squealed into the intersection, causing a storm of dust and exhaust, violently drifting sideways and perfectly splitting the two civilian cars.

His sudden appearance caused one of the civilian cars to nearly clip his rear end. At the same moment, and for the same reason, the second car slammed into the first, spinning it like a child's top and throwing it onto the median.

Dino was able to avoid being caught up in the collision. He regained control of the Koenigsegg hypercar and pushed his accelerator to the floor. His engine screaming, he rocketed away with just minimal damage to his left rear taillight.

A split second later, Little Pete roared into the intersection. Seeing the melee Dino had caused, he was forced to drift way out to avoid colliding with the two hapless civilian cars. His maneuver successful, he took off after Dino.

Both Koenigseggs now accelerated to 130 mph and roared through a bending stretch of roadway with lakes on either side.

Pete was barely able to contain himself. He was pressing the gas harder and harder, all the while shouting at the top of his lungs. He'd never driven anything even close to the Koenigsegg. For him, this was something from one of his visions.

They flew by a civilian car doing the 55 mph speed limit. It was as if it was standing still. Pete zoomed right up on Dino's bumper and was enjoying every second of it. Tobey was following close behind. He'd fallen back intentionally so he could keep his eyes on Little Pete. As a result, he still had some ground to make up. But at the same time, he was only a few seconds behind both of them.

His eyes were glued on Little Pete as the three hypercars approached a turn. He saw his friend go wide, so Tobey started his own turn early, sliding inside, half on, half off the roadway's shoulder. Accelerating at exactly the right moment, Tobey came out of the turn just a little ahead of Pete, putting him just five car lengths behind Dino.

The three hypercars were now on a long, rolling part of the roadway, passing civilian vehicles like they were frozen in place. Zooming inside and outside, on the shoulder one moment, skirting the median the next, the trio of Koenigseggs were now doing 180 mph.

Suddenly, up ahead, a Chevy pickup truck came into view. Its elderly driver was barely going the speed limit, and was listening to his radio at high volume.

But when he glanced into his rearview mirror, he did a double take. An instant later, Dino's Koenigsegg blew past him.

The driver couldn't believe his eyes. The hypercar went by him in a flash. He looked at his own speed—just under 65 mph. When he looked up again, Tobey and Pete had roared by him as well.

The three hypercars entered a dead straightaway. Dino was still in the lead, but Tobey was right behind him, with Little Pete right on Tobey's bumper.

They flew over a crown in the highway, each Koenigsegg going airborne for a moment before coming back to earth. In front of them now, just a quarter mile away, was another intersection. At that moment, a large truck, pulling a horse trailer, was crossing through.

The three Koenigseggs were traveling in excess of 200 mph now. At that speed, all three would hit the truck in five seconds.

The truck driver saw them coming. Not quite believing what was happening, he panicked and slammed on the brakes, blocking the intersection.

Dino was the first to hit his own brakes, his Koenigsegg fishtailing wildly from side to side. Tobey saw Dino's brake lights and reacted instantly. But he didn't hit his brakes. Rather, he laid on the accelerator and made an aggressive move around the truck. The maneuver avoided a collision, but an instant later, he found himself on the other side of the highway's median, going the wrong way, and heading right into oncoming traffic.

Meanwhile, Dino was trying to get around the back end of the horse trailer, but Little Pete was too close on his tail. They made their move at the same time, Dino's nose almost clipping Little Pete's rear end. Little Pete reacted immediately, swerving wide. He avoided colliding with Dino, but he was suddenly sent spinning onto the grass.

For that one long moment, Pete came very close to losing it. But with another sharp turn of the wheel and a boot of the gas, he was quickly back on the pavement and running straight again.

All this bizarre high-speed maneuvering had put Tobey in the lead—the only problem being he was traveling on the wrong side of the highway. He was madly weaving back and forth, getting out of the way of oncoming trucks, cars, and vans, all while still going nearly 200 mph.

All the while, he was desperately searching for an opening in the median, a spot where he could get back on the right side of the road. But the median strip was lined with trees, rocks, and bushes—and no openings. He had no choice but to press on in the wrong direction.

Over on the right side of the road, and with very little traffic ahead of them, Dino and Little Pete had accelerated up to 210 mph. This allowed both cars to gain serious ground on Tobey. Realizing what was happening, Tobey buried his gas pedal as well. But then he saw another car coming straight at him.

The driver swerved before Tobey could, crashing over the median strip. Immediately losing control in the high grass, the civilian slid through a clump of trees . . . and right into the path of Dino and Little Pete.

Luckily, their instincts took over. Little Pete swerved inside the careening car while Dino went to the outside. It was close, but their driving skills got them by the hapless driver in a flash.

Tobey was watching all this from the other side of the highway. Finally, he spotted an opening in the median strip ahead. With a quick jerk of his steering wheel, he slid through the gap and was suddenly back on the right side of the road.

But another civilian car that had swerved to avoid Tobey was now right in Little Pete's path. Little Pete went left and got around the car, but then it moved over and went right into Dino's path. Dino hit his brakes again, swerving wildly to the right. He avoided a collision, but when the smoke cleared, he found himself in last place, looking at the butt ends of Tobey's and Little Pete's hypercars.

The three Koenigseggs roared up to another intersection. This one was clear. With incredible precision, all three drifted onto Freedom Parkway. They were now in the final stretch of their race.

The parkway was conveniently devoid of traffic. Up ahead, all three drivers could see a bridge all lit up.

They were roaring along now at their fastest speeds yet. Tobey was in front, Little Pete right on his bumper, with Dino riding Pete's bumper in turn. Maintaining this tight bunch, all three accelerated to an incredible 250 mph.

Little Pete looked up to his rearview mirror to see Dino drafting off him. This told him Dino was about to make one last desperate move before the race was over and he lost $2 million. But Pete was ready for him.