Grip - 2. Chapter 2

Jae’s garage

Outside on the Moscow River, people on Jet skis were racing around buoys on the water. Mister Jiang Jae-Hee, who started all this, was hollering at the racers through a megaphone. Around him he crowds were cheering and his voice was actually getting drowned out a bit. This was how it was in Moscow. After the race was finished, a percentage of the crowd cheered for the winner while a few groaned in frustration like they just lost a bet. Most likely they had. Jae got to them quickly and started collecting their losses.

It seemed that in Russia it didn’t seem to matter that it was just above freezing, if there was an opportunity to race then they raced. Through snow drifts and over ice-cold water, it didn’t matter. In a country buried beneath snow for most of the year, where in the summer the day the sun lasted until nearly midnight and in winter only appeared fleetingly from the twilight at noon. Every chance to live it up was taken.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Hand it in brah!” he said as he passed by the losers who handed him small wads of cash. “What’s the matter? A little upset? Don’t be trippin’ dudes, that’s why it’s called gambling. Now pay up, pay up pay up…”

The last guy handed him a rather thick wad of twenties. Looked to be about forty thousand roubles worth. Glaring at the other man who stood studious looking in glasses, blue-black, straight hair, and an average Asian height and build.

“What’s the matter boy, you don’t look too happy,” said Jae with a grin as he stuffed the wad of bills into the pocket of his Adidas track pants.

“Yeah, whatever,” said the guy. “I’ll get back what I lost here by tonight anyway.”

“Yeah? How’s that gonna happen?” Jae continued his grin as he counted the next wad of money he collected.

“Your boy’s gonna be there, right?”

“Boomer?...Yeah, why?”

“Then I know who I’m betting against, man.”

The man then walked away to find something better to do. Jae wasn’t grinning so much anymore.

He adjusted the stylish glasses he wore underneath fashionable hair, looking around at the collection of Ethnic Russian citizens intermixed with a horde of Armenians, Tartars and the odd Cossack. Probably the only Korean out of the lot, Jae shrugged and zipped up the thick jacket to his tracksuit.

The crowds have begun to dissipate as the spectacle of the water races were over for now. They all just went back to socializing. This was a typical Friday at Jae’s place, the only day of the week where it wasn’t ‘business as usual.’ Jae pocketed his money away and looked towards the charcoal pans. He noticed Ilya wasn’t there. More importantly, there wasn’t any food on the skewers.

Jae realized that the inevitable happened when he got a bunch of overactive people together in a high-energy environment. Well, usually that meant that the crowd’s hunger was satisfied. His, however, was not. Guests first, hosts later, that was always the way it was. Now Jae just wished he named a bowl of noodles for himself but too late now. He decided to try and find grub inside his garage instead.

When he came in he saw little Boomer working on his car again, bent over the front and reaching into the engine bay. Ilya and Vasili were just hanging about watching Boomer work while Mrs. Cooper was standing in the middle of the floor.

She wore a pair of high-heeled boots that rode up her calfs seductively towards a puffy tartan miniskirt, sporrin worn sideways like a purse. Above it was the double buttoned tunic of a hussar worn open over a lacy white top. In her hands a stopwatch ticked down the seconds.

“Whacha all doin in here?” asked Jae.

“Waiting for some eats, man,” replied Vasili.

“Yeah, I noticed we were out back there. So what you waiting for exactly?”

“Six large Hawaiian pies,” replied Mrs. Cooper without glancing away from her stopwatch.

“Ahhh, somehow I thought so. I’m starting to think you call that place for more than the pizza, Mrs. Cooper.”

That was when Mrs. Cooper glanced up at him. “As if, Jae.”

Jae smirked. That specific delivery guy has been delivering Pizza’s for them for the past week-and-a-half. It didn’t take long for Jae to realize that Mrs. Cooper was a little fond of him. Of course at the moment he didn’t think her interest in the guy was anything more than platonic. Not that he was jealous or anything.

There was very little sexual about Jae, much to his mother’s repeated shame. Her constant demands for him to do the honourable thing and get married… in Korean society it didn’t matter that he was successful and had money. A person wasn’t a true success till they had the all important titles of husband and father.

Besides Mrs. Cooper had her own share of suitors.

As for the pizza guy, Jae though he was pretty cool. He had the kind of personality that could leave an impression. Also he has shown a little interest in their business of cars. The rest of the guys seem to be ok with him as well.

“So when will he get here?” he asked.

Mrs. Cooper looks back at her stopwatch. “Well it’s been twenty-nine minutes already so he should be here any sec--”

A young man in a red shirt and cap suddenly ran into the garage carrying a stack of pizza boxes. As soon as he was inside he bent over and struggled for breath.

“Here’s…your…order,” he huffed between breaths.

Everyone wore an expression of slight humour on their faces.

“Rough traffic?” asked Boomer, looking up from his work.

“Well, you made it at least. You were only almost late by about a minute,” said Mrs. Cooper.

“You’re not gonna call my boss to complain about that, will you?”

“Who the hell calls to complain about pizza that was almost late?”

Max smirked. “You’d be surprised.”

Mrs. Cooper took the pizza boxes from his hands as well as handed him a generous wad of cash which covered the food and a generous tip for Max.

“Thanks for the pizzas as always, Max,” said Mrs. Cooper as she carried the stack to a table.

“Don’t mention it. Just don’t call me in the middle of morning rush hour again,” he took a deep breath and finally stood straight again, fully recovered. “Hey, it looks like you got a pretty cool party happenin’ back there. Can I hang out a bit?”

“Party’s just about done,” said Ilya. “You shoulda came here two hours ago.”

“What I can’t hang out here? I like it here.”

“We’re busy dude,” said Boomer. “I gotta get this thing ready for the races tonight.”

Max turned to Boomer the instant he heard the word races. “Races? You guys have a race tonight!? Where!?”

“Why are you so interested?” asked Mrs. Cooper.

“Well, I wanna go there. See what’s up.”

Everyone in the garage snickered on Max’s behalf which left him a little confused. Jae walked up to him.

“You think you can roll with us?”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Sorry, man,” said Jae. “Only those who fit the bill get an invite to these things.”

“What, I can drive a car. Lend me some keys and I can show you.”

“Anyone can drive a car. Not everybody can race. Events like these are exclusive to those who got what it takes to burn rubber and melt asphalt. If you want in on this stuff you gotta show us that you got some serious need for speed.”

Max smirked and looked Jae right in the eye. “Dude, you have no idea what I can do. Give me a chance and I’ll show you.”

“Durak, you can barely deliver a pizza on time,” said Vasili while eating a slice of Hawaiian pizza.

Max looked towards him with an indifferent smile. “I’m not that good on two wheels.”

Jae was analyzing the way Max answered just then. There was something in his eyes that somehow made Jae believe what he said that they have no idea what he can do. Jae quickly dismissed that notion though. This guy was just a pizza delivery boy. Sure he may know a few things about tuning cars and racing but he has never shown any sign of having been behind the wheel of a real race car. Still, that look bothered Jae. He had seen that look before. He saw it on people who knew what it was like to cross the finish line first.

“Well he can just watch if he wants to, there’s no rule against that is there?” said Mrs. Cooper.

Jae smirked and nodded his. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The races are gonna be on the docks at the port. I’m sure you know where that is.”

“Thanks! Really though, If you let me just show off what I can do…”

“Man, you can barely deliver pizzas on time,” Ilya repeated with a snicker.

“Hey, man, I almost got side-winded by some clown on a segway on my way here man. Like I said, morning rush hour.”

“Speaking of “rushing” don’t you have a job to do?” asked Mrs. Cooper.

Max was about to say something when realization hit him. “Aw, crap, that’s right!”

Max rushed out the door and back onto his scooter.

“See, you later then,” he heard Mrs. Cooper say to him.

“I’ll be there!” he shouted right back.

Max got back onto his Daelim scooter and jetted off the garage parking lot. In the back of his head he worried that his boss would rile him about taking too long getting back. But his foremost thought was about the races at the docks tonight. His blood was already boiling with excitement. It’s been a long while since he’s even seen a street race. He guessed he spent too much time in hiding. He couldn’t wait to get back to that again. The sheer thrills of unbridled speed.

He would make good on his promise. He will be there. He will also bring a little something along and, God willing he be given the opportunity and prove to these guys just what he was made of.

* * *

Several hours later.

Moscow was a city that never really slept. In the Centrum’s streets and districts clubs and bars were turning on their bright neon signs inviting nocturnal party-goers to come into their establishments. There was never a shortage of fun to be found in Moscow, no matter what your taste. Even those with the most extreme taste in thrills could find what their looking for and somewhere on the Moscow River, near to the more industrial part of the city, thrills were being served on high octane.

The sun has set and the party was just beginning in between the cranes, warehouses, and many rows and stacks large metal containers delivered on the decks of large cargo ships from exotic locations around the world. The river-side docks were alive with the beats of pumping hip-hop and metal rock from well over ten dozen speakers from cars all over the place. Everywhere one would look there was a tuner car tricked-out to ridiculous proportions. And if one were to look even closer, they could spot a race or two happening.

In one long stretch of pavement underneath the rows of loading cranes sitting next to the water and among a cheering crowd, a drag race was about to take place. On one side, someone’s lightly tuned ’03 Ford Falcon GT.

On the other side was a black striped, candy purple 1972 Plymouth ‘Cuda, heavily tuned with a 528 Hemi crate engine assembly from Mopar Performance coupled with a custom Magnaflow performance exhaust kit, a SPEC stage 5 clutch kit, custom Wilwood brakes, KYB high performance shocks, Falken racing tires and a set of 20” DMP black chrome rims from American Racing…just for show.

Exactly a quarter of a mile away, a dude with a spray-paint drew a whit line across the concrete pavement. From out of the crowd near the starting line, a scantily clad girl in a short frilly skirt walked out and stood in the middle of the road. Upon seeing her crowd cheered in anticipation. The girl pointed to one driver and he revved his engine in response. The girl pointed to the other driver and he revved his engine in response. Both were ready.

The girl then raised he hand up in the air and waited a few seconds then suddenly dropped it towards the ground.

Both cars took off, the Cuda doing a rather impressive wheelie as both cars passed the starter girl the slipstreams they generated blew up the girl’s skirt, much to the cheers of the crowd.

That wheelie caused a loss of a little speed when the ‘Cuda’s front wheels came back down onto the ground. The Ford got an early lead but didn’t hang on to it for long. The driver in the ford was not that experienced and it showed in the screeching whenever he tried rushing the gear changes.

The driver in the ‘Cuda was more experienced and had the hometown advantage. His shifts where clean as if he was doing this for years, and in truth he was. He also had the advantage of having over 600hp under the hood. The driver dropped the pedal to the floor and the ‘Cuda’s speedometer gained a mile a millisecond.

Half-way down the quarter-mile stretch the ‘Cuda was a whole car length ahead of the Ford. The driver of the Ford got a little panicked and triggered his nitrous kit. The ford zoomed ahead a bit and took the lead for a second. The driver of the ‘Cuda grinned and simply shifted up to fifth gear.

That was all it took.

The ‘Cuda stormed ahead and left the Ford in its dust. By the time the ‘Cuda crossed the finish line, 9.5 seconds passed and the Ford came a full two seconds later.

The crowd at the finish line exploded in cheer as the ‘Cuda slowed down. The driver showed his celebration of his victory by doing some donuts, leaving black circles on the pavement and white clouds in the air. The crowd cheered him on, among them Jae, Mrs. Cooper and Boomer.

The ‘Cuda stopped its spinning around enough for the driver, Vlad Pearce, to get out, hop onto his hood, and stretch his arms out towards the crowd.

“Whose house is this!?” he hollered.

The crowd cheered his name. “Vlad’s!”

“Say again! Whose house is this!?”

The crowd cheered his name again, Mrs. Cooper being the loudest much to Jae’s annoyance since he stood right next to her. “Vlad’s!”

“Yeah! That’s right!”

Vlad stepped off his car and walked towards the driver of the Ford who was already standing outside of his car and looking a little bit dejected. The Ford driver saw Vlad coming and instantly knew to reach into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash amounting to about two thousand US. Vlad reached his hand out and the Ford driver placed the wad of cash down on it. Vlad pocketed it and shook the man’s hand.

He caught sight of her then.

Orange.

Mrs. Cooper was wearing orange. He didn’t think he would have truly noticed her if she hadn’t been wearing that orange dress. Normally he hated the colour orange. Now and again he loved a tall glass of orange juice and he enjoyed eating oranges… He just couldn’t stand the colour. So when he drank the juice, he just pretended he didn’t notice the colour. Overlook the undesirable aspects in order to enjoy the more enjoyable parts.

The other driver was talking to him, but Vlad’s mind was elsewhere.

In a way, he thought it was good that she was wearing the deep orange coloured dress. The fact that the colour turned him off forced him to find a different place to look while she talked. So of course he checked out her legs. Nice legs. Not stick skinny but toned. He made the mistake of looking back up, damn that orange dress again. Quickly he looked up and that’s when he noticed her face. If he had to define the moment, it would be one where the music goes slow, you can hear the pounding of his heart and knew that it was picking up speed, and there would be a fade away where nothing existed except him and the other person.

There was inky shoulder length black hair, sophisticated blue eyes, and a set of full lips that were turned down in the corners as she worked it a mile a minute talking about cars. She was pretty, but not remarkable. But in that moment he knew he wanted to get to know her better. Decisively, he tuned away.

“What’s happenin’, hommie?” He asked focusing his attention on Jae, standing pristinely in Armani.

“You bank is what’s up,” said Jae amidst the lightly falling snow that drifted lazily from the sky. “Nice ride by the way.”

“You know me. I’m one for the classics. What’s up Mrs. Cooper, Boomer?”

“Good race, Vlad,” commented Mrs. Cooper.

“Yeah, man, that was tight,” concurred Boomer.

“So I heard you got ride that you wanna take racing, Boomer.”

“Yeah. It’s a hot car alright, and I’m gonna dominate whoever that fool was who asked for this race in the first place.”

“That fool happens to be a veteran racer from New York, Boomer,” said Jae. “You should be a little nervous at least.”

“I don’t care where he’s from, I’ll smoke him anyway.”

Jae was really getting worried about that kid’s overconfidence. Rom had been a little worried too and Mrs. Cooper just wanted to get away from him for a while. Boomer might not be getting nervous but she was. Besides there was somebody she wanted to find.

“Well, whatever Boomer,” she said. “I’m just gonna go look around and talk to some people.” Mrs. Cooper moved away from her friends and towards the crowds.

“Gonna try and look for the pizza boy?” asked Boomer.

Mrs. Cooper simply looked back with a smirk before disappearing. Vlad looked quizzically at Jae and Boomer. “Pizza boy?”

“A new friend of ours, apparently,” said Jae.

“Yeah? Well anyway, Boomer, Jae is right, boy. I hear this guy that put up the challenge is packing a Maserati. You’re gonna have to be careful about this. I mean you’re racing for a hundred and forty-two grand here.”

He meant Roubles.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t a drag race. It’s a circuit. The race will be decided in the corners and I’m ready for that.”

True, it was a 2 lap circuit race that involved short sprints and right angle turns. The only real problem Boomer should have is in the quarter mile sprint just before the final turn towards the start/finish line With Luck, Boomer will have left his opponent behind in just the first few turns.

Boomer winning was very plausible at this point, based on the race track, the opponent, and Boomer’s own skills. But still there was something about this guys who Boomer’s supposed to race that just rubbed Vlad the wrong way.

* * *

Somewhere in the crowds.

A man in a leather jacket moved inconspicuously through the crowds pretending to be just another partygoer. He was at the starting line of the big race for the night. In front of the starting line, two empty cars were already parked simply waiting for their drivers to get there. A crowd has gathered around the cars to admire them and check out their features. This would be their last chance as the race will start in a few minutes.

The two cars were Boomer’s Peugeot 206 GTi and a shiny red Maserati GranTurismo with a Bomex body kit and flame graphics on the side.

The man in leather ignored the Maserati. He knew enough about it. His friend owned it after all, the same friend who will race later on. He moved towards the Peugeot 206 instead since his friend asked him to do something for him. The man in leather moved right up to the Peugeot 206 in between a couple of onlookers who were trying to peer into the cars inside. He looked around to make sure no one was watching him.

The man in leather then took out a very sharp switch-blade from his pocket and, very inconspicuously, pierced a hole on the front right side wheel. He could feel the rush of air coming out of the hole he just made. By the time the race started, the tire would have lost half its pressure and by the middle of the race…

Well, he could probably pity the driver for what might happen to him. But all he could think about was what to do with his share of the forty-two thousand they were about to win.

* * *

Somewhere else among the crowds.

Mrs. Cooper browsed the faces of the people there. Some she recognized other she didn’t but none of them had the face of the person she was looking for. But eventually she found who she was looking for near the front of the warehouses.

In front of the line of warehouses was an even longer line of parked cars, all of them tuned to some degree. Some of the people there were the drivers and most others were just onlookers admiring the cars and among those onlookers was Max who was taking his time admiring a tuned BMW M3 someone had brought along.

Mrs. Cooper spotted him and went over. When she was right behind him she asked “How long have you been here?”

Max turned around to the sound of her voice. “Oh, hey, Mrs. Cooper. Almost didn’t notice you there.” He then gave her wardrobe a once over, orange. “Then again that would be rather hard not to notice you.”

Mrs. Cooper was always one to enjoy some light flirting. She smirked back at him. “Thanks. Nice to see you changed out of uniform.”

Max’s new wardrobe consisted mainly of a simple combination of blue jeans, doc martins, a t-shirt, and a dark long woollen coat that swept to about an inch off of the ground. Atop his head he wore a ‘fish-fur’ pill box hat that had a baseball cap brim tailored on. Very Russian, very smart, and yet his own style. From his getup no one would give Max a second look.

So I see you’re really into this stuff, huh?”

“More than you think.”

“Did you ride your little scooter here?”

Max grinned. “Naw. I actually drove here.”

“So you do have a car. Where is it then?”

“It’s parked inside this warehouse somewhere,” He pointed to the one closest to them. “Would’ve parked it out here but they ran out of room.”

“Cool. Maybe when this is over you can show us what you can do.”

Max smirked and looked her straight in the eye. “Why you’ve already seen what I can do, Mrs. Cooper.”

Mrs. Cooper was about to reply with some snappy comeback pertaining to his pizza delivery skills but when she saw that look in his eye she hesitated. It was very clear he wasn’t talking about pizzas this time. Before she could ask him what he really meant, Max cut her off with a question.

“By the way, when is Boomer’s race coming up? That’s what I came here for after all.”

“Oh that. Well it should be starting any minute now. Their cars are already at the starting line. I think I’ll just stay here and watch with you.”

“You know I hope that boy of yours really can drive as good as he boasts.”

“Yeah…me too.”

Call it ESP, or plain old woman’s intuition, Mrs. Cooper had a very bad feeling about that race.

* * *

Minutes later.

The race was about to begin. A large crowd has already gathered around the starting line where the Peugeot 206 GTi and the Maserati were sitting. The drivers arrived soon afterwards. Boomer stood next to his Peugeot 206 while the driver of the Maserati walked up to his car with his posse in tow. The man who approached was a white Irish-looking guy wearing a black tank top that showed of the muscles on his chest and especially his arms. He had a stern look of seriousness on his face that made some people melt in front of him.

Boomer didn’t fall for the tough guy act. But when he saw the car he was driving he did start to get a little nervous. He heard from someone that thing was pulling 405 horses under the hood. And for a Maserati and an experienced enough mechanic, that wasn’t a hard feat to accomplish. But Boomer knew he still had an advantage when it came to that kind of race. Speed and power isn’t everything. He knew his handling and weight advantage can turn the race in his favour.

“Ready to lose?” asked the Maserati driver in a deep tone.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Boomer replied with a confident grin.

As the Maserati driver opened his door, he looked to his friend, who was dressed in leather, and asked “Is it done?” The friend nodded with a wry smirk. The Maserati driver smirked back. This Race was already his.

Both drivers got into their cars and strapped themselves in. Jae, dressed in a flash black suit over a crisp white shirt walked up in between the two cars and spoke to both drivers. “Alright, here’s how it’s gonna go down. It’s simple. Two laps around the course and first set of wheels back across this line is the winner. I suppose both of you know where to go by now.”

Both drivers nodded.

The geometric course was simple and it followed the right angles and straights as defined by the stack of containers and buildings around the port. From the starting line there was a short 500 ft dash to the first corner which was a wide hairpin turn turning right. After that was a short 200 ft long dash then a left turn into a wide straight are in front of the warehouses that lasted a good 950 ft approximately. That is followed by another left turn into a short dash no more than 100 ft then a quick right into a another short sprint about 300 ft long. That was followed by another right turn into a longer 600 ft sprint followed by another right turn into a long quarter mile straight. That went into one final right turn and a 100 ft dash to the start/finish line.

With everything set, it was time to race.

Since he’d been appointed the race official, Jae pointed to both drivers, twirling his fingers. Both nodded that they were ready, gunning their engines on either side of him. Jae raised both hands up and, waited for a couple of seconds, then dropped them to the ground, not even flinching as the cars squealed by him.

Both cars took off the starting line. With the Peugeot 206 gaining a quick lead. Boomer was quick to try and block his opponent by driving into his path. This took away some of the Maserati’s power advantages but the driver of the Maserati was not nervous at all.

They both reached the first corner which was the hairpin turn. Boomer downshifted and braked right on time and turned in like normal, but unlike normal, where his car would easily take the corner, Boomer experienced a colossal amount of understeer and he went much wider than he ever expected. The Maserati took full advantage of this and powerslid on his way out of the turn and gained the lead.

Cursing his luck, Boomer somehow managed to gain control of his car on his way out but that understeer made him really nervous. He powered on and shifted up a gear and quickly started to gain on the Maserati when the next turn came up. The turn would lead into the area in front of the warehouses and Boomer hoped to gain some grounds on the wide open spaces that stretch provided.

In front of the warehouses, people were now waiting for the two competitors to show. Max and Mrs. Cooper were the most anticipating among the crowd.

“I can hear them already,” said Max.

“C’mon, Boomer, you can do this,” quietly cheered Mrs. Cooper.

Just then the Maserati popped out of the corner of the farthest warehouse to their right. The Maserati powerslid for a second time out of the corner and was soon thundering down the straight. Boomer’s Peugeot 206 GTi showed up a second later again turning in trying to take advantage of the Peugeot 206 GTi’s 4WD system. But like the first corner, he experienced massive understeer. But it didn’t end there.

He came in to fast out of the corner and Boomer soon felt his right front wheel suddenly dig into the pavement. The car’s momentum flipped it up into the air, did a 180 degree rotation, and then fell down on its passenger side. The car scrapped across the pavement a bit before tilting back down onto its wheels.

This all happened in front of a very stunned crowd and none were more stunned than Max and Mrs. Cooper who watched in horror. A little ways ahead on the course, the Maserati driver looked at his rear view mirror and watch the Peugeot 206 just sit there with smoke coming out of its hood, grinning with satisfaction.