“Ha. My car will kick your car’s ass any day of the week.” Wolf revved the engine again for good measure.
“Are you ever going to grow up, Wolf?” Cooper asked, though he could feel the adrenaline racing through his veins at his friend’s obvious challenge. Damn . . .
“I sure as hell hope not,” Wolf shouted. “I’m racing. Let’s see if you can keep up.” And his window began to go up, though only partway.
To his great frustration, Cooper felt his ego taking over his decision-making processes. Just as his friend knew would happen. And though Cooper hated that his reactions were so predictable, he couldn’t seem to stop his next words.
“Fine, you want to find out what this grandma’s car can do, Wolf? You’d better prepare yourself for defeat.” Cooper shut his window. He could picture the excitement on Wolf’s face, and heard Wolf gun the motor in anticipation of starting.
The two men watched as the traffic on both sides of the street began to slow, indicating their light was about to change. Both cars surged forward, only held back by their feet on the brakes, as they prepared for the first sign of a green light. Time seemed to stand still, then the light finally changed.
In an almost simultaneous motion, Cooper and Wolf dumped their clutches and stomped on the gas pedals. With a roar, their cars leapt from the white line. The sound of squealing tires and the smell of smoke filled the air as both cars sped off.
Cooper glanced at his speedometer, which was climbing quickly to 65 miles per hour as they barreled down the city streets. Their cars darted in and out of midmorning traffic, getting everything from the middle finger to honking horns. Cooper knew in the back of his mind that he’d seen police officers on this road, but his boyish arrogance would never allow him to slow down.
Wolf made a sudden attempt at a pass, while Cooper responded with a sharp maneuver to block him. The sound of Wolf’s engine downshifting could be heard as Cooper watched him in the rearview mirror. His lead grew as he pushed his Porsche even harder.
Cooper knew that Wolf would do anything to win. He’d raced the guy before and had learned a few of Wolf’s tricks and strategies. Come on, Wolf, make your next move, Cooper silently taunted as they approached the on-ramp to the freeway.
Although the traffic was somewhat heavy, the open expanse of the freeway was a golden opportunity. This is your chance, Coop. Give it all she’s got. He quickly shifted into third gear as he turned onto the ramp, looking back to see Wolf only inches away.
The cars surged up the ramp, both engines growling as they were pushed to their limits. As Cooper crested the top of the ramp, he refused to be fazed by all the sounds of disapproval. In fact, he accelerated past 100 miles per hour.
Cooper’s confidence about his upcoming victory was quickly squashed by the sight of Wolf’s shiny grille in his rearview mirror. Deciding it was time for some dirty tactics, Cooper cracked an evil smile as he noticed a large truck with its turn signal on that was moving into his lane.
Without hesitation or fear, Cooper shifted into fourth gear and hammered down on the pedal. The sound of gravel could be heard under his car as he swerved around the merging truck and slightly onto the shoulder.
Try that on for size! Cooper could see Wolf and his blue car swerving from side to side while attempting to find a hole. He sped off, taking full advantage. After a couple of minutes he figured he’d won, free and clear.
Glancing in his mirror, Cooper could no longer see any sign of Wolf. Looks like you gave up too easily, my frie—what the . . .
Cooper could see a BMW fast approaching from his right side, like a bullet fired from a gun. Cooper knew there’d be glee on Wolf’s face, taunting Cooper as he drove. His heart pounding, Cooper pressed his engine as hard as it would go.
His focus turned back to the road in front of him in time to notice the distinct sky-blue nose of a Crown Victoria protruding from the vegetation lining the median. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had a run-in with the local police department, and he was only too familiar with those cars.
To prevent a catastrophic ticket, another bad mark on his driving record, he quickly downshifted and applied the brakes. With a slight chirp of the tires, he slowed to just five miles per hour over the speed limit in the knick of time.
He looked back at his rival and friend as the gap between them began to close at a quick rate. Cooper noticed Wolf wasn’t slowing as he moved to the left lane to make his victory pass.
Knowing Wolf didn’t need any more stressors in his life, Cooper did all he could to point out the police cruiser. He soon realized his warnings were going unseen as Wolf kept on speeding, his focus too narrow to care.
You fool; you couldn’t say I didn’t warn you, Cooper thought as he watched Wolf’s brake lights glow and his tires smoke in what looked like a panicked deceleration.
Yes, the police cruiser lit up with flashing red and blue lights and pulled out, maneuvering behind Wolf’s car, signaling him to move to the shoulder. Cooper, now safe, took the next exit to the airport.
He glanced at his large aviator watch as he pulled into the airport employee parking lot. He was on time, since his street-racing session had ended with little cost to his normal commute. He pulled into his usual spot and stepped from the car looking absolutely impeccable in his hand-tailored uniform.
Catching the first employee shuttle bus he could find, he sat quietly with his flight bag and suitcase positioned neatly beside him. Since he’d been flying out of the Seattle airport for the better part of six years, he had his daily routine down to a science. Even if he had been off for the past month on vacation.
Still, it was almost choreographed. He showed his identification, passed through the screening checkpoint, and headed for the coffee shop.
He’d deal with his friend soon enough. For now, it was back to work. Still, he had to admit that the race had been a good rush, taking away some of the boredom of the drive he knew so dang well that he could do it while asleep.
Now it was back to the real world.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The taxi pulled up in front of the Sea-Tac terminal after a nauseating ride, swerving in and out of traffic and around single-minded travelers. Stormy Halifax tossed the driver his money, two hours worth of work gone in twenty minutes of wasted time on the commute, and leapt from the cab, running straight for the front entrance of the airport.
She was all set to begin her average day with its monotonous routine. She was one of the baristas at a small latte shop, Republic Coffee, located in the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. The small and quaint café was nestled in between the food court and a local gift shop.
Stormy had been at her job for only a month, but it was such a hassle to get there that she wasn’t sure she even wanted the job to last anymore. If only she didn’t need the money so desperately.
The airport was a bustling madhouse with an endless sea of people on what seemed to be a busy travel day. Republic Coffee stayed fairly busy throughout the day because it was near the top of the escalators and the main entranceway to a majority of the airline gates after security.
As Stormy stepped off the escalator, she was immediately assailed by oblivious passengers, the smell of coffee, and the sound of a gate agent getting reamed by an unhappy customer.
Yes, it would obviously be another long day of coffee drudgery, pushy passengers, and egotistical pilots. She could handle most of it, but the pilots were the absolute worst.