Grip - 7. Chapter 7

On a long stretch of abandoned road.

The roar of engines ruled the night air. Taking place was your run-of-the-mill drag race with whoever crosses the finish line first wins. The race was already halfway through with a white Honda Civic SiR Coupe in the lead, its exhaust pipe spitting out blue and red flames from the nitrous oxide.

Not far behind was Vlad’s candy purple ’72 Plymouth ‘Cuda. In the driver’s seat, Vlad was nowhere near nervous as he watched the Civic inch away from him.

“It’s not gonna be that easy, dude,” he mumbled as he shifted into fifth.

The speedometer spiked as the classic car accelerated pass 150 miles per hour and easily passed the civic just in time to cross the finish line first. At the finish line a crowd was waiting and cheering for the winner, Vlad. Being the showman as always Vlad performed a couple of donuts much to the enjoyment of the crowd. He stopped his car long enough to open the door, step out, and raise his hand in victory.

The crowds cheered him on. He then proceeded to collect his well deserved bank from his beaten opponent in the Civic. The cash was fourteen thousand roubles worth.

“Better luck next time, chief,” said Vlad.

The other driver just nodded it off and slowly drove away, not offering any other reply. Vlad stayed to enjoy his limelight a bit before he too had to drive away for them to get the next set of racers ready.

* * *

The Cooper Dacha

She leaned heavily into the rickety wooden door, pushing it open with a thump and nearly leapt out of her skin at the man sitting in her favourite armchair petting her cat.

She stood there, partially covered in snow, her eyes wide at the sight of the refined looking man in the expertly tailored Italian suit. Aquiline nose, soft eyes, and steel grey hair, Mister Cooper tickled Finnegan behind the ears as he looked bemused at her.

“Hello dear,” He purred. “I hope you don’t mind, but I let myself in…”

“You don’t have a key,” she said, setting her shopping bags down and hefting the door closed before all the warm air inside could be sucked out.

“I never needed a key to go anywhere before,” he reminded. “How have you been?”

Mrs. Cooper’s eyes flashed dangerously, “oh pretty good given destitution, betrayal and… oh yes… Phil Collins.”

Mister Cooper chuckled dryly, “yes, I wondered where that went…”

She was inching towards the kitchen and the butcher’s block that sat there. “Get out of my house.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why I’m here?” he inquired as he dropped the cat to the floor and uncoiled his legs to stand up.

“No,” she said firmly.

“Ahh,” he nodded. “So I suppose a reconciliation is out of the question?”

“Get…out!” she trembled with fury as she pointed at the door.

“Oh sweetness,” Mister Cooper said digging in his pocket. “Here I was, hoping after all this time you’d have found a way to forgive me. Shame…” he pulled out a set of car keys. “I come bearing presents.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” she glowered, finally reaching her butcher’s block and selecting a particularly wicked meat cleaver.

“Are you sure?” he asked, tossing the keys down onto the table amidst the piled magazines and clutter.

Her eyes flicked to the Lamborghini logo on the keychain.

“What-?” She murmured, the cleaver dropping a fraction of an inch.

“Think about it, and then meet me at Pushkinskaya tomorrow at noon if you want the rest of it,” he smirked as he walked towards the door, past her and her knife.

After he had left, Mrs. Cooper remained standing clutching the cleaver as she stared at the keys on the table as if they were a poisonous snake. Finnegan jumped up onto the counter beside her and pawed at her jacket, the black and white cat aware that the purple bags of cat food were still waiting to be opened.

She busied herself with that task, all the while giving the table a wide berth. Trying her best not to look at the keys. Knowing that if she looked, she would want to pick them up, and if she picked them up then she would be there, at the metro station the next day with him… and she knew that what ever he wanted, what ever he was up to, it was going to end badly.

Finnegan meowed at her, and she realized she’d been staring at the keys, the bag of dry cat food open, but not poured. She shook herself off, trying to get a grip as she gave the cat his food.

A few moments later she had the keys in her hands, as she sat in her arm chair staring out of the window at the snowy Russian wilderness, lost in her memories.

* * *

Along Entuziastov Sosse.

Even though it was way past most of their bedtimes, the people that gathered in the area didn’t have an ounce of concern over sleep. The place was alive with the glare of neon lights and the sound of hip-hop and techno as beats were blasted out of speakers from the surrounding cars. On a large snow covered parking lot, people gathered along with their tricked out cars to show off.

Vlad drove slowly across the parking lot admiring the cars and the woman in fur coats who decided that the night was too hot too cold for the skimpy outfits they wore underneath. Unlike the prudes that rode the metro, true Russian girls were anything but conservative. As Vlad was driving around he noticed somebody among the crowds he recognized from the other night.

A few feet away was Max, standing in front of his black and orange Jaguar XKR chatting with a few girls who were apparently interested in his car. Max was just ending the conversation and waving the girls off as they headed off to find better company. That’s when Max himself noticed Vlad’s purple ‘Cuda pull up right next to him. He recognized the driver when he stepped out as the guy Jae was hanging out with during Boomer’s race. He couldn’t help but admire the smooth revving of the ‘Cuda’s engine.

“You’re that dude who won that race last night, right?” asked Vlad.

“Which one?”

“The one everybody’s been talking about. The one where you took the Grip Master’s crown.”

“That’d make an awesome Vinyl ontop of the car,” Max smirked. “You know Jae, right? You guys tight?”

“Yeah. Which is why I’m a little curious about you. You see, I gave him a call a while ago and he mentioned he hired a new guy to help around the garage.”

Max chuckled. “Is that right? Of course I don’t think I’m something to brag about, though.”

Kid’s got a sense of humour, thought Vlad. He could see getting along with him a bit. Though he was still a stranger to Vlad. He had seen Max once before. Last week he was hanging out with Jae and the gang at their place when he delivered a pizza to them. That meeting was brief and left no lasting impression on Vlad. Now he wanted to know more about this kid…and of course his car.

“That your ride?” asked Vlad, pointing to the XKR.

“Yup,” replied Max, “This’s my cat.”

Vlad extended a hand. “Name’s Vlad Romanov.”

Max took it. “Max.”

Vlad nodded towards the car. “Mind If I take a look?”

“Nope.” Max then moved to his door, opened it, reached inside and popped the hood knowing that was what Vlad wanted to see.

Vlad went on ahead and popped open the hood of the XKR and looked inside. He let out a long whistle making it obvious to Max that he was impressed.

“Arden huh?” said Vlad.

“Well, I lucked out, but when I got this car the original engine was trashed beyond hope,” said Max. “But hey, I won it fair and square. I wanted to build something new so I got the idea of trying to rebuild the 4.5 litre V8 and tuning her up just right.”

“How many horses is she running?”

“Last time I checked, around Four-eighty.”

Vlad turned to Max in some disbelief. “No shit?”

Max smirked. He loved it when he got that kind of reaction. “Don’t believe me? Why don’t I show you on the blacktop?”

Vlad smirked back. This kid was serious about his ride and no way would he doubt his word about his car after seeing his performance at the port. Although Vlad was tempted on the offer as he too wanted to see firsthand just how good Max was.

But that was the old Vlad, spontaneous, hot-headed, and more often than not reckless. That sort of lifestyle got him into a lot of trouble all the way across the Moscow Oblast. Of course a chance meeting with an old friend changed his way of thinking and now he has noticeably matured since those old days.

“How about your ride?” asked Max. “From what I can hear, it sounds like a Hemi.”

“Who did you hear that from?”

“Nobody. I heard it right here.”

Max walked towards the ‘Cuda and stood in front of it with his eyes closed. Vlad raised an eyebrow in curiosity towards Max. Max just stood there seemingly doing nothing and after a few seconds he opened his eyes again and spoke.

“Definitely a Hemi,” he said. “V8 crate engine with a custom exhaust. Sounds like you even put in a new carburettor. From the way she revs, I’m guessing she’s pulling about 600 or so horses at the rear wheels. She sounds smooth. Did you just overhaul her?”

Vlad was impressed. “You can tell all that by just listening.”

“Every engine has its own sound unique to it. That sound boils down to all the different parts in the engine and the way each individual driver tunes their machines. You can tell a lot by a man’s machine by the way it sounds. You just have to listen close enough, you know. From the smooth high pitch straight four, the rhythmic buzz of a straight six, to the low rumble of a big V8, heck even the puttering of a good ‘ol diesel.”

“You know a lot about cars, don’t you?”

“I practically grew up around cars. I learned all the sounds that way.”

“They all sound the same to me.”

“You just need to get to know your machine a bit more. There’s actually a lot more you can do to your ride.”

“Didn’t think you were into American muscle.”

“Well my forte is exotics but I’ve always had a soft spot for all the classic V8’s. And besides, there really isn’t any way to deny that this is a pretty sweet ride. How’d you get it?”

“Got her for a good deal from a dealer in Haiti, he had it shipped over. Took me a couple of months to fix her up but she’s worth it. And thanks to her I’ve been making up the money I spent on her in spades, man.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. I’ve seen you race.”

As the conversation went on, the two were suddenly distracted when the crowd near them started cheering a little louder. They looked in the direction of the noise. Coming slowly across the black tarmac of the parking lot towards Vlad and Max was a pair of cars. Max looked curiously at the two tuners while Vlad looked away, annoyed.

“Aww, crap,” said Vlad. “Not them again.”

“Them?”

The two cars stopped close to Vlad and Max where Max was able to get a better look at them. Both cars were Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution models. One was an Evo 7 with a predominantly black paint job with bright red stripes and tear graphics running across the side and the hood. The other was an Evo 9 with a predominantly red paint job with dark black stripes and tear graphics running across the side and the hood. Both cars sported Bomex body kits and carbon fibre GT wings. Both cars had aftermarket product stickers all over the body.

From the sound alone, Max could tell that both cars were moderately tuned with some new single turbo kits that probably bumped up the power of those engines by a significant amount. Max also got a glimpse of the brakes and a bit of the suspension behind this big 19” chrome rims. No doubt, these cars mean business.

No sooner had Max thought that was when the drivers of these two cars exited their vehicles and showed themselves to the crowed. The guy from the Evo 9 was Armenian with a crew cut hair style dressed in jeans, shirt, and black leather militsiya jacket. The other guy from the Evo 7 was white with short black hair gelled to look like a porcupine’s back and dressed simply in jeans and a white t-shirt and was eating an apple.

“Vlad!” called out the guy in a militsiya jacket. “We’re calling you out.”

Vlad looked towards them with an expression of both boredom and annoyance. “It’s a nice night out, why don’t go and have a drink or something?”

The Evo 7 driver looked annoyed. “We came here to race. man!”

“Well I’m done for tonight. Maybe some other time.”

“No way! What Are you scared now?”

“Scared? Of you? Please!”

Max looked towards Vlad curiously. “Friends of yours?” he asked.

“A couple of chumps I dusted a few times. They’re the ones who paid for the new carburettor.”

“Ohhhh.”

The Evo drivers were visibly getting pissed off. “Hey! We’re calling you out to a race!”

“And I said I’m not in the mood. Get lost.”

As Vlad turned his back from the Evo drivers the Evo 7 driver suddenly reeled back his hand with his half-eaten apple and let the piece of fruit fly fast towards Vlad’s car. It hit the side mirror on the driver’s side, breaking the mirror. That definitely got Vlad’s attention. The crowd started “ooohing” at the sudden turn of events. Max was a bit surprised himself but in his head he could already see the chain of events happening and it wasn’t gonna turn out in Vlad’s favour.

Vlad, pissed off beyond reason, slowly turned back around to face the two Evo drivers who were both grinning. “Do we have your attention now, suka?”

Vlad started to walk towards the two Evo drivers and got up to his face. “You wanna loose that badly?”

“We played by your rules the first two times but it’s our turn to decide on the rules.”

“Have it your way. What the set-up?”

“Two laps around this area. I’m sure you know the place enough. The bid for each racer is twenty eight grand.”

“Fine.”

At this point Max had stepped forward. “So what, you guys are gonna race two against one?” he said. “That pretty damn fair.”

The Evo drivers and Vlad turned their attention towards Max who stood resilient. Murmurs from the crowed started spreading, a few people recognizing him from last night’s escapade. The Evo 9 driver quickly walked up to Max and got up his face but Max kept his ground.

“You got something to say, suka?” asked the Evo 9 driver.

“Yeah I do,” Max moved closer to the guy.

The crowds fell silent as the tension between Max and the Evo 9 driver built up. Max remained resilient throughout the whole time the Evo 9 driver was staring daggers at him. There was silence for a few seconds before Max broke it.

“Who the hell throws a damn apple?” he said. “Seriously?”

Some people in the crowd started snickering. The Evo 9 driver was visibly at a loss for words while Max smirked. Max turned away from the Evo 9 driver and turned towards the Evo 7 driver. “You guys got balls, you know, ganging up on him like that.”

There was obvious tension between Max Vlad and the two Evo drivers. For their Part Vlad and Max weren’t under any pressure but their opposites were crumbling under it. In that time Vlad was flashing Max a “what do you think you’re doing?” look while Max gave a “trust me on this” wink back at him. At some point someone from the crowd shouted “tag team match!” which caught the attention of everyone. The Evo drivers were caught off guard. Max looked like this was exactly what he was expecting.

Looks like tonight won’t be as dull as he originally expected.

* * *

Here was how it was gonna go down:

Each driver would drive one lap around the designated race course. The second driver would wait at the start/finish line for his partner to cross before they can drive off. First team to have both drivers complete one lap each around the course was the winner and would receive the purse of sixty three thousand roubles (twenty six and a half buy-in for each driver), and as a side bet, Max had asked for the militsiya jacket.

The course was the area around the parking lot and the building next door. Racers would start at a spot part-way down the longest stretch of the course. From the start, it was a 500 ft dash to the first corner which was a sharp right followed by a short dash around 300 ft long and a very long, easy right turn that would come out to a long straight a little over 250 yards long which snakes a bit throughout. The stretch would end at a sharp 45 degree angle right turn. After that it was a long dash back to the start/finish line.

The roads that would intersect the course were already closed off with face road work signs to ensure no interruptions as well as minimize any possible civilian harm. Everything was ready. The first two to go was Max in his Jaguar XKR and the driver in the Evo 9. Waiting on the side was Vlad in his Plymouth ‘Cuda and the driver in the Evo 7.

From out of the crowd the young lady stepped out onto the middle of the road a few feet in front of the two cars. She raised one hand and pointed towards the Evo 9 driver who nodded back. She raised the other hand and pointed to Max who also nodded back. Then she raised her hands up into the air to the cheer of the crowds.

“Here we go,” she said then dropped her hands. The racers were off.

The Evo 9 took an early lead with its 4WD system but it didn’t take long for the XKR’s own power and torque to catch up. The two cars were neck and neck through the treacherous snow of the first stretch but approaching the first corner the XKR pulled back a bit and pulled to the outside.

The Evo 9 driver took a wide arc across the outside of the corner. Max was anticipating this. He quickly downshifted and sharply turned the XKR towards the inside and took the lead of the race at the apex. He wasn’t planning on analyzing this guy like he did Bull. Bull was on a way higher level than these Evo drivers. He could tell easily by the way the presented themselves.

Max punched the gas and rocketed down the short stretch and eased into the long easy right that followed. The Evo was behind by about two car lengths but that gap was steadily growing. Going into the next stretch Max let loose on the gas and revved high on forth gear. By the time he shifted up to fifth, Max was halfway down the stretch and the Evo 9 was five car lengths behind.

“Any second now,” mumbled Max to himself.

The Evo 9 suddenly gained a burst of speed. Anybody watching from behind would easily be able to see bright blue and yellow flames spraying out the Evo’s muffler and the nitrous oxide being fed into the engine burned cleanly. The Evo started to gain fast on the XKR.

“Yup, there it is,” said Max.

He briefly considered using his own nitrous kit but decided against it. He wouldn’t need it and it would be a shame to waste it. Plus the Evo driver made a mistake of firing up his nitrous so close to the next corner which is also the sharpest in the race.

Max approached the corner without thinking about his opponent. He hit the brakes and shifted two gears down to 3rd. He drove towards the outside and attacked the corner at a deep angle almost hitting the apex. He applied gas coming out of the corner and produced white smoke from his tires much to the enjoyment of the crowds that were watching close by. Max came out of the corner smoothly, shifting back up to 4th gear.

The Evo 9 had problems though. It came in too fast as a result of the driver’s desperate attempt to take the lead. The Evo 9 driver had to brake hard to fight all that momentum he built. He tried to salvage his run by the time he got to the corner but not even the Evo’s renowned 4WD system could save him now. He went wide around the corner and the ground he gained with the nitrous was lost coming down the final straight.

This run, and a brand new leather jacket belonged to Max.

* * *

At the start/finish line.

The ‘Cuda and the Evo 7 weren’t exactly on the line but waiting on the side a little ways behind it, parked right up against the curb, perpendicular to the road. The Evo 7 was closer to the line and the ‘Cuda about six feet to the side. During their wait, both drivers have been giving each other hostile stares.

Suddenly they both heard engines and son the crowd started cheering as well. In the distance they could see the XKR’s headlights approaching and Evo 9’s own headlights way behind. It was clear the Evo 9 was not gonna catch up and would hit the line at least a couple of seconds behind the XKR. Vlad smirked in satisfaction when he realized this. The Evo 7 driver got irked.

“See you later, byk!” exclaimed Vlad.

Vlad went ahead and revved his engine. That huge Hemi V8 roared to life just as the XKR crossed the line at full speed. Vlad stepped on the gas and smoked his rear tires from the wheelspin as he started to drive away. The now very irked Evo 7 driver wouldn’t stand for it.

“No way, man,” he said. “Not this time.”

He stepped on his gas pedal too, inching the Evo 7 forward just as Vlad was leaving his spot. The Evo 7’s front bumper managed to nick the rear fender of the ‘Cuda. Barely anyone from the crowd noticed this move but Vlad sure did. The little nudge coupled with his excessive wheelspin gave the car a massive dose of oversteer. Vlad struggled to keep his car in control as he fishtailed near the line. In that time, the Evo 9 had crossed the line and that gave the Evo 7 enough permission to drive off and start his run.

“How do you like that, suka?!”

The Evo 7 easily took the lead and expanded it to a full five seconds by the time Vlad straightened out his car.

“Shit!” he cursed.

The ‘Cuda finally got its act together and drove off after the Evo 7 but not without leaving a worried Max behind. He saw that little move the Evo 7 driver did. He would just love to tell everyone about it but he knew there was no way he could prove it. He underestimated them. All he could do now was hope that Vlad could finish the job and win this race.

Coming into the first corner, the Evo 7 driver took every technological advantage his car had against his opponent. The Evo 7 may not have the sheer muscle of the ‘Cuda but it had 4WD, ABS, Traction control, VVT and then some. They knew that they could not beat the Cuda on a high speed course or a drag race (as were the previous cases) so they opted to take on Vlad in this short circuit race. The only real problem was that Jaguar driver that butted in. But that was in the past now. He was in the lead and his opponent wasn’t gonna catch up. This race was gonna be theirs, he could feel it.

The Evo 7 took that corner smoothly and rocketed off a few seconds later the ‘Cuda approached. Inside Vlad was irked at his lousy start but wasn’t all that worried. He saw this kind of battle coming and he was prepared for it.

“Let me show a little something I picked up from Mrs. Cooper,” he said.

Approaching the corner, Vlad moved to the outside and turned sharply towards the corner. He let off the gas a bit as he continued to turn into the corner and suddenly pulled the handbrake for only a second before dropping it back down and punching the gas and applying counter-steer. This put the muscle car into the classic handbrake drift and allowed the ‘Cuda to smoothly navigate the corner at high speed.

The crowds watching cheered loudly at the spectacle. The Evo driver heard and looked at his rear-view mirror and was surprised to see the headlights of the ‘Cuda growing progressively brighter. He checked his speedometer and couldn’t believe Vlad was catching up to him so quickly. He had expected Vlad to take some time at the first corner.

Vlad punched the gas and gained on the Evo 7 all throughout the easy curving stretch leading to the final hairpin corner of the course. The Evo 7 handled well but could not put down that much power on the tarmac. His car may have been packing a little over 450 horsepower but his car was heavy having not yet gone though any sort of weight-shaving procedures and that power had to be shared by four separate wheels.

Vlad’s car was a different story. He knew the limitations of his car and did a lot to fix those limitations. He learned a bit of drifting from Mrs. Cooper who was an amateur drifter herself because he recognized how drifting on some courses can help him handle corners well without loosing much speed. He also spent a lot of time tuning his specially ordered KYB performance shocks to ensure as much grip from the tires which themselves were high performance tires from Falken.

“Don’t think it’s that easy,” he said.

Close to the last hairpin turn, the ‘Cuda had caught up with the Evo 7 and they were neck and neck. The two cars drove side by side with the Evo 7 on the inside lane and the ‘Cuda on the outside lane coming into the last corner but it was clear that the ‘Cuda was slowly gaining ground. The Evo driver noticed this and got nervous. That nervousness led to desperation.

“Oh, hell no!” he exclaimed right before sharply turning the Evo left to try and intersect Vlad.

But the Evo driver was unlucky in the timing. They had already reached the final corner and Vlad braked hard in preparation for a sharp turn. The Evo 7 missed the ‘Cuda entirely and by the time the Evo 7 driver had realized his mistake and started to correct it, it was too late. Vlad had already cleared the apex and punched the gas putting the ‘Cuda into a powerslide right before straightening out and shooting forwards towards the finish line.

The Evo 7 overcompensated for its mistake and spun-out at the corner, dashing whatever chance the Evo driver had at winning.

Moments later Vlad’s ‘Cuda sailed across the finish line into the cheers of the crowds. In classic Vlad fashion he did a few victory donuts on the spot as an after-show treat for the fans. On the sideline Max couldn’t help but be entertained at how big a show-off this guy was. No wonder Jae liked him.

Vlad stopped spinning around, stepped out, stood atop his hood and with his arms spread out and pointing to the surrounding people yelled out: “Whose house is this?!”

And the crowd replied “VLAD’S!!”

“That’s right!”

Vlad stepped down and walked towards Max who was parked nearby. Max had a smirk on his face which made it clear he somewhat enjoyed Vlad’s little spectacle.

“Almost had me worried there,” he said to Vlad.

“Yeah, well it takes more than that.”

“No doubt about that. Nice driving, man.”

Vlad extended his hand again. “You too, pizza boy.”

Max smiled and took the hand. The two men shared a firm handshake. After that night, Vlad was pretty sure he and Max were gonna get along just fine.

* * *

Elsewhere in the crowd

The young man with the camera snapped a couple more pictures of Max to accompany the numerous ones he’d taken of the race. Nodding in satisfaction as he made his way back towards the main road, where a man stood smoking a cigarette leaning on a black Mercedes.