Condor stood between the two lined-up cars, a large-lensed HID flashlight in his fist. He flashed it once to the right, watched as the Mustang’s driver held up a fist, indicating he was ready to go. As the Mustang’s turbos whined to an ear-damaging peak, Condor flashed the light again, took Buddha’s acknowledgment, and stepped back a few paces. The Shark Car opened its muffler bypass. The ground-shaking rumble of its 14.5-liter Hemi flowed out, bouncing off the bodies of the spectators. “Da-amn!” one young black man exclaimed, as if shocked. Had those standing near him known he had already placed a bet on the disguised Shark Car, they might have been suspicious. But since they’d been stunned into silence themselves, the possibility never occurred to them. “What’s that button for? The one on top of the–” “Trans-brake,” Buddha said, his eyes focused on a point at the very top of the dashboard. Before Princess could ask another question, a tiny orange dot flared. Buddha released the trans-brake a microsecond before Condor’s flash blazed. While the Mustang still had its front wheels in the air, Buddha was a good three lengths ahead, and pulling. vachss/av_novels/urbanrenewal.html
Posted on: Sat, 01 Nov 2014 13:46:02 +0000
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