Grip - 16. Chapter 16

MKAD

In 1995-1997 the MKAD had been widened from the initial four lane road to a ten lane super-highway, all intersections had become grade-separated, and bridges were built to accommodate pedestrians. Along its great length traffic lights had been removed, and a solid concrete barrier had been installed in the median. In 2001 all slow-moving vehicles were banned from entering the MKAD and the renovated road officially received a freeway designation from the mayor's office.

It now stood as the boundary for Moscow proper and the outer suburbs.

And it was about to become a race track.

“Speed,” said Max. “That’ll probably be what will decide the race.”

“Well, if it’s a question of pure power,” said Mrs. Cooper. “Then I doubt any of the other competitors can touch you.”

At that moment, Max and Mrs. Cooper were hanging out together at the side of the freeway enjoying the setting sun. Max was dressed for the cold, a heavy rib-knit sweater on under his Militsiya jacket and his ‘fish fur’ hat. No one paid him any mind as they drove past, assuming he was just another Militser on patrol. Mrs. Cooper, by contract, wore nothing so mundane. Her bright red double breasted coat swept out over a carefully selected sarong skirt, and heavy boots. Docs naturally.

Max’s shift at his job was over and now he had about 8 hours to go before the race started. He came to the road where the race was designated to scope out the place while he could. Boomer had been right. A straight-ish ring road that belted the city. There were only two corners and that was going up the on ramp and the other would be exiting by the same ramp. Straight around the city.

It was a true Grip race. There was to be none of the classic drag race, but it was pretty similar and much longer. The car’s top speed would be the key to winning the race. Max was starting to think that maybe he should’ve had his stereo removed after all.

“Power isn’t everything,” continued Max. “A Roush has a supercharged V8 which can usually gets up to its power band faster than my AJ20.”

“But your engine is torquey while his is peaky and this race is all about maintaining a high power band.”

“I can maintain high power even with a peaky engine. What I worry about most is the other races. The race will be six of us and having a flexible engine may be safer. And like I said, he can probably reach his peak power faster than my V8 can.”

An engine that was considered “torquey” meant that the engine was tuned to have a wide range of power over the gears. This meant the engine was tuned that it can maintain its peak power through the revs much better than a “peaky” engine. The advantage is that type of engine was that the car maintained a more constant level of torque over a wider range of RPM and thus maintained top speed much easier without putting too much stress on the engine and the driver’s skills.

A “peaky” engine was the opposite. It was tuned to have high power and a narrow band. This meant that the car could only achieve its peak power on a small range on the RPM’s. “Peaky” engines were harder to use in motor sport since they required the driver to constantly shift gears to keep the engine at that optimum power band through the revs. And usually, missing the narrow power band even in higher revs would cause a drop in torque and power.

Max preferred keeping his engine “torquey” because it allowed him to be more flexible in a race. He could maintain acceleration better and that usually meant better handling and faster cornering. It also allowed him to be better prepared for any and all surprises that pop-up during a race which happened quite often. And, as he said, it’s also more ideal for his twin-supercharged XKR.

Although, at times, he did sometimes tune his engine for specific races. A straight-up drag race he would usually tune his engine to be peakier in characteristics. At its highest level his engine could achieve, with the wastegates fully opened and the ECU set just right, is around 700 bph. But when he kept the engine flexible, he usually had a peak power of around 600 to 650 bhp which was more than enough for most races.

At that moment, he had tuned his engine to around 640 bhp and he was assuming that the weight difference between his car and the rest would make all the difference. He had seen the profile of the other drivers and their cars. Bull’s Mustang GT alone is more almost twice the weight of his Arden XKR. The rest weighed less but in terms of power they didn’t seem to compete that well with the Mustang and the XKR.

“The way I see it, it’ll come down to weight difference.” He said resting a foot on the front bumper of his car, his eyes scanning the road through his blue-mirrored sunglasses.

“And you have the advantage in that department.” Mrs. Cooper dug her hands deeper into the stole about her shoulders. She looked tired, frayed, they all had since Boomer’s accident.

Max kept the conversation on the race; it was the only option any of them had left. “And as back-up I always have my nitrous system ready. I won’t go as far as to say this race is in the bag but, the odds at least look good.”

“Don’t you have to worry about the other racers?”

“Should I?”

“And couldn’t hurt to have a little info. And I happen to know these guys.” Mrs. Cooper turned her elegant head to look at him.

“Ok, then. Shoot.”

“OK here’s what I know about the other four racers. The first guy is David. He drives a supped up Ford Focus that runs at about 400 horses. Not that much power but his car’s not that heavy. He likes to be the one off the line first and block those behind him. He usually does this by using his nitrous kit early.”

“Classic maneuvers. But with five other cars to deal with he might find his hands full.”

“Probably. Next up is a girl named Natasha. She drives a lightly tuned Mazda RX-8. It’s equipped with top of the line mods from Mazdaspeed and it’s also pretty light. Lighter than your car actually. But lacking in power. Apparently she likes to keep her motor NA.”

“She’ll probably aim for the two corners as her best bet for winning.”

“Up next is a guy named Dean. Aside from Bull, he’s who you gotta look out for. He drives a Dodge Viper SRT10 that’s packing serious power. Although really the only mods to this car is a new Borla exhaust and some custom wheels. Everything else is stock. Still he might give you some trouble on the straight so watch out for him.”

“Got it. What about the last guy?”

“The last guy will be Vasili.”

“The driver of that red SAAB?”

“Yeah, him. You’ve seen him and his car around the shop, right.” Mrs. Cooper asked.

“Yeah. Dude’s got a decent tuned engine. I think he pulls about 400 hp with that single-turbo rotary of his and his car is pretty light. But his nitrous system is what I’m worried about. Guy’s always got like a huge tank of the stuff replacing his back seat.”

“He’s been on a decent winning streak with those. He’s learned to use his nitrous to give him some extra boost on short straights and long corners. It’s a pretty good technique actually. He’s also VENOM’s best customer. He’s modified his car with a VCN 1000 computerized nitrous system and high flow fuel pumps and injectors. He may be pulling 400 most of the time but when he turns that system on he can beat even you in terms of peak power.”

“Well, my car is more than just power.” Max said resolutely, a tinge of worry flicking in the back of his mind.

* * *

Hours Later Jae’s Garage

He had selected a white dress shirt - lightly starched, Attach silver studs and cuff links and tie his bow tie – he hated those things, but tonight was special.

Black trousers, highly polished black shoes, and he was almost ready. He paused looking down into the drawer at the Russian pistol he’d legally bought when he’d first came to the city. Contemplating if he wanted to take it with him, knowing that to do so would be stupid, guns had there place, and if the FSB were involved, one 9mm pistol wouldn’t make any difference.

He shut the drawer, looking at his pre-packed suitcases, ready to go. Nodding to himself as he checked his laptop, liquidation complete the wire transfer had secured much of his funds, everything else he could simply walk away from. That was the way it was, there was no use crying over it.

The question was, would Max and Mrs. Cooper be ready?

Fifteen minute drive and he’d be there right on time, he shut down the laptop and slipped it away. It was time to go.

Pausing again, he recovered the gun. He would stop along the way and drop it into the river, the best place for it, he felt.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later.

The time for the race was almost near. A crowd was already gathering around the nearby area and a party was starting. At a nearby parking lot close to where the race would actually start, Moscow’s racing elite had turned up in their cars and a party atmosphere was quickly building.

Even the crisp air, and the light snow drifting down and the snow fell gently from the overcast sky above them. The small flakes swirled in the air and drifted into snow banks as they were tossed about by an occasional bitter wind. The city itself towered above them on all sides and stretched off into the distance, each of the great buildings around the old Moscow State Circus loomed dark and foreboding. The austere scene was perfectly calm

Less than an hour before race time, the racers were taking this last moment of relaxation to collect themselves. Or in Vasili’s case, phone numbers.

“Hey there pretty girlie,” said Vasili to a fit-looking woman sitting on the hood of her Mazda RX-8 parked next to his car. “Look, I just want say that no matter how this race turns out, I won’t be having any bad feelings for you my pretty.”

“Oh I see,” said the girl. “That makes me feel better…knowing you’re not gonna hate after I win and you lose.”

“Oh ho ho ho, kinky. Vasili likes it. Of course we can all dream can’t we?”

“You can dream of this,” she lightly slaps her butt, “as I pass you and leave you in my dust.”

“Fair warning, my car is not just good looks.”

“Well, neither is mine, durak.”

By then Mrs. Cooper walked up to the two looking rather exasperated. She had changed out of her sarong and put on a more comfortable but only slightly less revealing one piece designer dress and-knee high boots with assorted jewelry around her neck and wrists.

“Careful girl,” said Mrs. Cooper to the RX-8 driver whom she knew to be Natasha. “This guy’s got a mouth as big as his exhaust but balls as big as his sparkplugs.”

Natasha giggled a bit. Vasili looked annoyed. “Hey, hey, why you got to be hating me, girl?”

“Instead of picking up numbers, why don’t you spend your time preparing for the race? Considering your competition you have plenty to worry about.”

Vasili grinned confidently. “If this is about your new boy, Max, then I got nothing to worry about from him. Why don’t you stop underestimating me and overestimating him already, Mrs. Coop? On the streets anything can happen. Plus, I’ve gotten a lot better since that American left town.”

“Max is a whole new game for even you Vasili. Plus I’m not just talking about him.”

“Oh, you mean the yankee in the ‘stang? Don’t worry, girl, I can definitely take him as well.”

“That’s what Sean Chen said and look where that got him.”

Mrs. Cooper started to walk away leaving behind a rather irked Vasili. Despite having heard that from Mrs. Cooper and being slightly annoyed by it, he had not lost any of his confidence. Yes. If there was one thing that he could be proud of it was his confidence. Vasili was known to be brash and rude for the most part. Some people would call this an over-inflated ego. It’s a little bit like that by Vasili calls it something else. He called it his pride.

You need pride, Vasili would tell people. Not just in racing but in any competitive sport, legal or otherwise. It was his pride that kept him going and earned him the respect he had, not just from others but from himself. You have to believe in yourself first and foremost, he would say. Without pride, what will you aspire for? What are your dreams and how can you achieve them? Pride gives you meaning, purpose and most importantly, a place in the world where, as long as your pride holds, one will stay firmly. Without this place in the world, you are unrecognized, non-existent. That was what Vasili believed.

“Hey wait!” called that girl Natasha running up to Mrs. Cooper as she stopped beside her Pajero ‘borrowed’ by the girls again, parked alongside her beautiful pink Lamborghini.

Mrs. Cooper stopped and turned as Natasha walked up to her. “What’s up?”

“You know that guy in the XKR I’m supposed to race right?”

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’ve been hearing stuff about him. I heard he’s really good. I want to hear from someone who knows him a little more personally. Is he really that good? Can I beat him?”

Mrs. Cooper smiled faintly, wondering if any of them were good enough to pull off that night, and survive the worst Moscow had to offer. “Well, I can’t really say for certain if you can beat him. I haven’t seen how good you really are. And like Vasili said this is the streets and you just don’t know what will happen.”

“Then can you tell me anything?”

“Let’s just say…don’t expect things to go as you think they’ll go. A guy like Max…” her eyes tightened in regret, and in pain as she spoke, “…has a tendency to surprise people.”

* * *

Ten minutes before the start of the race.

This was it. No more delays. With 1,080,000 rubles buy-in from each of the six racers that made 250,000 dollars on the line. Winner-takes-all. Max liked that kind of race because those taking part stood to win real big. However the race itself was something he wasn’t so crazy about. Most people think that a straight line race like this was the easiest kind of race. And it kind of was. You only had to dive in a straight line for most of the race. But despite being one of the simplest types of races it was also the most dangerous, especially on the MKAD in the snow.

You saw it on TV all the time. Those shows that featured stunning home videos of spectacular accidents and disasters popular, especially on Russian television. Some of those videos shown were often from professional drag races. Anyone who’d ever seen a professionally tuned drag racer experience an accident while going at speed would know what kind of dangers even the simplest looking races could have even in a closed course that was built with safety barriers and had paramedics ready, as well cars designed to keep the driver alive even during 200 mph crashers.

The MKAD race was nothing like that. It was a street race. It was worth noting the fact that the race was miles of nothing but straights with no barriers separating the cars that would have to average about 160 to 180 mph throughout the straights to put up a decent chance of victory. Throw in the unpredictability of the other racers and the environment of the road (civilian cars and the like). All that with an almost complete lack of safety precautions. This was clearly a race that wasn’t for the weak-willed.

The racers would start in a grid formation of 3 rows with 2 cars each. Bull in his Mustang GT and David in his Focus were on the first row. Natasha in her RX-8 and Vasili in his SAAB were on the second row. Dean in his Viper SRT10 and Max in his XKR were on the last row.

Bull was the first to line up. He parked his Mustang GT an inch behind the white line on the road. He watched in his rear view mirror as the other cars were coming. He spotted Max’s XKR among them. He grinned with a hint of both excitement and malice. He decided then and there that this guy would not finish this race with both legs working.

Max was slowly driving his car to position and spotted Bull already at the line. He knew he had to settle what lay between them that night. He couldn’t help but feel that Bull might pull something sneaky. They always do, those guys who were too desperate for a win. Too desperate for a taste of glory. He briefly recalled Boomer’s first race with that guy. He knew he had to keep his wits about him if he planned to survive.

The other racers started to get into position as the organizers of the race started calling on them. There was a crowd gathering around the starting line cheering as the cars went into position. Many of the people in the crowd weren’t just audience members however. Races like that were like the derby. Everyone had a favourite they want to put their money on. And that’s what some race organizers came after. Somewhere in the crowd was Mrs. Cooper eagerly waiting for the race to start.

“Yo!” called someone from behind her. She looked back and saw Jae coming to join her near the start line.

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” she said. “Race is about to start.”

“I’ve made all the arrangements my end,” he murmured, keeping his voice down, surveying the crowd.

“Right,” she nodded, feeling the fluttering in her chest. They had every reason to be scared, and she wondered if Jae’s plan had a hope in hells chance of actually succeeding.

“Those look like some stiff completion out there,” said Jae after a moment. “Are you sure our boy can do this?”

“Who knows?”

“Not exactly a confidence builder, are you?” Jae said tightly.

“The race will go as the race will go. Anything can happen. All we can do is hope for the best.”

* * *

Across the overpass bridge stretching over the road, several people in parked tuner cars were speaking over cell phones and preparing their cameras for a live broadcast that will be picked up by others through Wi-Fi.

Mister Cooper sat wrapped up in a heavy overcoat and dark sunglasses, blending into the crowd around him. A few boys had set up a police scanner and were monitoring the Militsiya that were prowling the darkness watching and waiting for something to happen.

Tonight was the night when it would all go horribly wrong. And Mister Cooper suppressed a light smile as he watched Jae and his ex-wife standing off to one side.

The party was about to begin.

* * *

Starting line

Back at the starting line, all cars were in position. The crowd cheered as the racers, mostly Vasili, revved their engines loudly.

Jae walked out into the middle of the road, showing each of the drivers the briefcase with the collected money inside it. Making sure they all knew the prize, as he closed it and handed it off to Mrs. Cooper. She quickly walked off to the side, where she was eyed appreciatively by a few younger boys salivating over the little bit of leg poking out of her dress.

Jae tensed shooting the cuffs of his tux, a sly smile playing across his lips as he stopped in front of the start line between the two lead cars. He raised his hands into the air and the crowd cheered on.

Somewhere in the crowd, Mrs. Cooper swallowed nervously as she got her cell phone ready to hack into the live broadcast.

Mirroring her nervous anticipation, Jae licked his lips, his eyes locked on Max’s, who was sitting flexing his gloved hands on the steering wheel of his XKR. The two sharing a moment in the midst of the roaring of revving engines and exhaust fumes in the cold air.

Jae dropped his arms towards the ground.

Less than ten seconds later, all six of the cars were nowhere to be seen.

* * *

On the MKAD.

Half-a-mile down the road the cars started to disperse a bit. David in his Focus took an early lead when he hit his nitrous and sped off into the distance leaving a gap of about five car-lengths between him and the first runner-up, Bull in his Mustang GT. Bull watched as David’s Focus speed away ahead of him and quietly scuffed to himself criticizing the amateurish move.

“You’re no challenge,” he said then looked at his rear view mirror. “C’mon. Where are you pizza boy?”

A couple of car-lengths behind Bull, Natasha and Vasili were having their own small battle with their rotary powered machines. Natasha had a slight lead over Vasili who was easily keeping up with her. She darted her eyes back and forth from the road to her instruments which read that they were going at about 140 mph already. That was worryingly close to her RX-8’s top speed so early in the race. Even though she planned to take the race in the two corners she wondered if that was gonna be enough.

Vasili in his SAAB let Natasha have this little lead of hers knowing that he could easily pass her when he wanted. He instead chose to concentrate on the other two Racers ahead of him. Bull’s Mustang GT was still in sight and not that far ahead. David’s Focus worried him as that was barely visible in the distance. He decided to make his move then and there.

“Time to make some money, baby!” he said to himself.

He flipped a few switches on his dashboard which turned on his all-important nitrous system. He watched as the gauges on his dash hissed to life and showed full tanks of nitrous. He had about three tanks full in the back seat and was planning to use all of it to win.

He pressed the red button on the steering while and his car jetted ahead, much to Natasha’s surprise, bringing his car up to 160 mph. Vasili’s SAAB quickly caught up to Bull and was breathing down the Mustang’s bumper. Vasili steered to the side and started to pass Bull on the right. Bull saw this.

“No way, José,” said Bull as he turned the wheel suddenly to the right.

The Mustang’s front bumper managed to clip the rear bumper of the SAAB as it was about to pass. Vasili was caught off guard as his car was thrown into a fish-tail. He instinctively let his foot of the gas and started pumping the brakes. He managed to control his steering wheel and bought himself back into a straight line but not before he was completely passed by Natasha, Dean, and Max. In an instant he fell to last place.

“Sukin Syn!” cursed Vasili. “Son of a beetch!”

* * *

Mister Cooper moved like a shark through a school of fish, his hand fishing into the deep pocket of his overcoat for the spare set of keys to the Lamborghini. He’d need a fast get away, and he figured why not just take back his car in the process?

Mrs. Cooper and Jae were leaning over her phone, watching the feed of the race, her hand’s still wrapped around the handle of the briefcase, both oblivious to how much danger they were in.

“Militsiya have spotted the race,” someone called to Jae in Russian. The Korean moving a few steps away from Mrs. Cooper to listen over the police scanner, turning slightly his eyes widening in shock behind his glasses.

“Coop!” he gaped.

Mister Cooper gave a leisurely shrug as he drew his pistol from his other pocket.

“Evening Jae, so nice to see you boffing my wife again…” He chuckled, as Mrs. Cooper rounded on him defiantly, pausing when she spotted the gun in his hand.

“You asshole…” she hissed.

“Yes,” he mused, noting that non of the other spectators were paying any attention to what was going on by the Lamborghini. “Now put the case into the car.” He nodded to Piggy.

“Not Piggy!” Mrs. Cooper shook her head.

“Give him the case,” Jae urged. “He’s got a gun.”

“Then he can shoot me!” Mrs. Cooper’s eyes sparkled with tears. “He’s not taking my Piggy again!”

“Yeah, I am,” Mister Cooper stated reaching out a hand and yanking the briefcase of money from her. He tossed it through the open door of the Lamborghini, before he climbed inside, closing the door, keeping the gun squarely on Mrs. Cooper.

“You’d better pray,” Mister Cooper said, looking at Jae. “cause if your boy doesn’t win that race out there, you’re gonna have to come up with a quarter mill to settle. Delicious isn’t it? I get my car, and destroy your reputation at the same time.”

He turned the key, satisfied by the distinctive whine of the engine as it came alive, throwing the car into reverse he peeled back across the lot, spinning the wheel and squealing away into the night.

“Oh no you fucking don’t!” Mrs. Cooper snarled, sprinting towards the Pajero and wrenching open the doors.

“Hey!” Jae called, running up beside her. “What are you going to do?”

“Just get in,” she said as she slammed the SUV’s door closed and started the engine.

Jae nodded as he piled into the back of the Pajero, Mrs. Cooper rocketing out onto the boulevard and racing down the dark streets.

“Which way did he go?” Jae asked, wishing to god he hadn’t dumped his gun in the river.

“I know exactly where he’s going,” Mrs. Cooper glowered. “He’s made a mistake this time…”

* * *

Back on the MKAD

Meanwhile Max in his Arden XKR and Dean in his Viper SRT10 were duelling it out. From the start of the race the Viper maintained a lead over Max who made seemingly several attempts at passing by weaving from side to side while the Viper simply followed and got in his way. Inside the Viper, Dean was laughing at Max’s pathetic attempts to pass him.

“Is that the beast you can do pal?!” said Dean as he shifted up a gear.

In the XKR Max grinned confidently. He recognized the moment the Viper shifted gears when a brief burst of flame came from the exhaust. That was the moment he waited for. Max turned the wheel right slightly enough to make it look like he was going right. At the sign of the first motion, Dean manoeuvred his Viper to block Max but the XKR suddenly veered to the left.

Jinking right and veering left was one of the oldest manoeuvres in the book, and sometimes those were the best.

Max saw that he was clear and made his move. The trick was for Max to keep his engine at a high gear and in low revs while keeping up with the Viper. During his opportune moment, Max quickly shifted down and allowed his engine to get to that peak power very quickly. With a sudden and unexpected burst of acceleration, the XKR rocketed past the Viper and into 4th place. The Viper was still trying to get to its own power band and thus was unable to keep up with the sudden acceleration of the XKR.

Dean was forced to watch as Max sped off into the distance out of his reach. “Dammit!”

His mind was quickly brought back to the matter at hand when he spotted Vasili’s SAAB quickly gaining ground on him. He tried to block him off but Vasili was better than that. Dean, compared to everyone else, was the most inexperienced racer in the race. Vasili saw through this move quickly and was easily able to devise a plan to pass Dean.

Just like Max, Vasili feinted to one side; Dean’s left, and allowed Dean to follow it. Dean took the bait again and Vasili simply moved to the right and used the advantage of his abundance in Nitrous to give him a quick boost that allowed him to pass. As Vasili was passing him, Dean grew increasingly panicky and tried to turn things around. Dean sharply turned the steering wheel to his right in hopes of maybe bumping into Vasili’s SAAB. However, Vasili had already cleared him and Dean found himself driving right into the guard rail of an overpass bridge.

Dean tried to save himself but it was too late. His Viper’s front bumper smashed right into the guard rail at over 160 mph and the whole car bounced back and spun multiple times all the way across all the lanes and finally came to rest on the farthest lane to the left. The engine had stalled and Dean, for the most part, was too stunned to operate his vehicle. He was out of this race.

Blowing past him in a blur of grey and blue, the GIBBD police interceptor was a blaze of sirens, lights and a roaring engine. The driver, gripping his wheel staring through dark sunglasses, was intent on the speeding racers, allow the regular patrols trailing behind him to pick up the driver of the wreck.

Vasili glanced at his rear-view mirror to confirm the crash. He shook his head disappointedly. He was expecting more from his fellow competitors. His heart ran cold when he saw the red-blue lights screaming up on his tail, the Porsche Interceptor had come from nowhere. He thundered on, gaining ground on the rest of the pack.

Meanwhile, Max had caught up with Natasha. The young lady racer saw his XKR rapidly approaching from her mirrors. By now, the racers have passed the halfway mark on the MKAD.

“Looks like the word on the street was true,” she said to herself. “This guy is pretty good. But let’s see you keep up.”

Despite being moderately powered, Natasha’s RX-8 was nothing to scoff at. That car has brought Natasha plenty of victories in the past and she aimed to get another one here. It’s light weight and maneuverability is the RX-8’s biggest advantage and even in a straight line race with minimal corners like this that was worth something. Unlike Dean, Natasha was not an amateur and she knew how to block an opponent as Max was soon finding out.

Max went for several feint turns just to see what the RX-8 can do. She met him for every movement of the steering wheel. Max smirked. “Girl’s got game, I see.”

Max dropped back a bit and let her lead. It was still too early in the race to be making any brash moves. Vasili has learned this as well as he seemed to be hanging back as well, content in staying in last place for a while watching the Interceptor on his tail. That manoeuvre he tried with Bull was still very fresh in his mind. He needed to wait for a better opportunity.

Up ahead, Bull was keeping his tight 2nd place in the standings. He generally ignored what was behind him at the time though he did notice the Viper’s crash much to his satisfaction. For now he focused on the guy ahead of him. David’s Focus was starting to come into view again, the effects of his early nitrous boost fading fast. Soon enough, it was well within reach.

The first pair of cars blew past a pair of Lada police cruisers, each struggling to keep up with the speeding cars but were woefully underpowered for the task.

Natasha and Max careened around them, a car on either side as they accelerated away from the Militsiya threat that tried to cut them off. Their failed intercepts cleared a path through the centre for Vasili to roar through, the Porsche Interceptor a micro-second behind him.

In second place Bull was fighting hard. “I knew you wouldn’t be too hard to chase down,” said Bull with a wry grin. “Guess that boost was all you had. Now you got nothin’ huh?”

He shifted up to his Mustang’s top gear and accelerated to 180 mph. He accelerated so fast that he caught David by surprise when the Mustang GT bumped his Focus’ rear fender. The sudden jolt caused David to momentarily loose his wits and control of the car. His Focus started to swerve violently but this was quickly remedied by his car’s FWD.

Bull in his Mustang GT grinned. He accelerated again and bumped the Focus slightly harder, not caring whether he was denting his own car (he figured the prize money would more than pay for damages). David was jolted again and nearly spun out. He was getting awfully nervous. In desperation he tried pushing his nitrous button again but since his tanks were empty nothing happened.

The Mustang accelerated again this time hitting the focus hard enough that the rear bumper flew off. David was too panicked and too jolted to gain control and he soon violently spun out. David’s Focus ended up hitting the guard rail and the momentum sent the car sliding right up against the metal guard rail sending sparks flying everywhere as metal rubbed metal. He eventually came to a rest just before the exit ramp to the South Eastern suburbs of the city.

“Two down…” said Bull looking at the hurriedly established road-block barring an overpass bridge ahead of him. There was no choice he would have to slam down the off-ramp of the Interchange, cross the busy city street and hit the on ramp on the far side, tricky but if he timed it right he’d bypass the roadblock all together.

Five blurs whipped by David, who tried desperately to re-start his car, looking up in time to see the two plodding Lada’s squeal to a stop, Militsiya spilling out to quickly arrest the offending driver.

Oblivious to his fate, the four remaining racers stormed ahead for the exit ramp that had added two corners to the race. By now, Bull was in the lead and Natasha in her RX-8 was a close second followed by Max in his Arden XKR and then an increasingly nervous Vasili in his SAAB. Vasili was sort of expecting to see a crash maybe in the later half but witnessing two before the mid-point of the race was getting to him, as was the relentless grey shadow in his rear-view mirror.

“It’s like being chased by Mad Max,” Vasili cursed, trying to stay focused on the race ahead of him.

They reached the corner of the intersection. Bull slammed hard on the brakes and aimed for the inside of the corner. He experienced a little oversteer and slid towards the outside. This was the angle Natasha was looking for as she aimed for the inside of the corner and putting her faith on the high grip of her tires. The RX-8 and the Mustang nearly kissed bumpers as the RX-8 took the lead from the inside. Bull noticed and applied more power to correct his slide. Natasha shifted up a gear and tried to put some distance between her and Bull.

Meanwhile, Vasili was trying to move up a place in the standings. He applied some boost with his nitrous and over-took Max in his XKR just before the corner. Vasili did a Scandinavian flick and put his car into a drift around the corner.

“How do you like that, byk?!” haha!” exclaimed Vasili.

“Too wide, pal,” said Max. The more nimble XKR quickly moved to the outside, turned sharply inward and intersected the SAAB’s line across the corner. Using precise throttle control, Max was able to drift around the corner and end up in front of Vasili again, much to Vasili’s irritation.

Bull had about 500 feet before the next corner came up. Ha had to get rid of the girl before they made the turn. Bull gunned his engine and once again rammed the person ahead of him. The RX-8 was violently shaken from the impact. Natasha almost lost of control of steering wheel for a moment there. As soon as she regained her composure she looked at her rear view mirror just in time to see Bull charge at her again.

The impact was much stronger this time and Natasha wasn’t able to stay composed. She accidentally jerked her steering wheel to the right and spun out the RX-8. Bull turned left to avoid the out of control RX-8 and retook the lead a short distance from the next corner.

Max was surprised when he found himself coming up against the RX-8 which was going awry just as they were about to reach the next corner. He reacted fast by letting up on the gas a bit then steered to the right violently, clearing the RX-8 by mere inches. He then quickly steered to the left and applied power putting his XKR into a wide drift that put him in a good position to enter the corner.

Vasili came up and took the much clearer right part of the road and didn’t even come close to Natasha’s RX-8. He soon cleared the corner as well and was back onto the final straight.

“Damn you Bull, you bastard,” said Max. “So that’s your game, huh?”

As Max and Vasili sped on through the exit and back up onto MKAD, Natasha somehow managed to regain control of her car and brought it back her intended driving line. She cursed loudly at her luck as she turned at the on ramp and went to the final straight. She knew by now her chances of winning were next to none.

It was then that she, too, noticed the Porsche that had materialized on her back bumper. The car cruised past her, and she was staring through her window into the darkened interior of the interceptor, to the cold eyes of the Police officer inside. He shook his head at her and wagged his finger, mouthing the word, “Naughty!” As he rocketed past her, after the bigger game at the front of the pack.

Bull was still maintaining a tight lead with Max now in 2nd place, Vasili in 3rd, and Natasha in a far 4th place. A situation Vasili was definitely wanting to remedy. “Don’t think you can try those moves on me, suka!” he said.

He suddenly moved to the farthest lane and once clear activated his nitrous systems again. He went from 120 to 160 mph in the blink of an eye. Max was slightly caught off-guard when he noticed Vasili creeping past him and headed straight for Bull. Bull noticed this move and was anticipating it from the start. He figured Vasili to be just the type to make this kind of move.

“Back for more, ‘ey bitch?!” said Bull with an excited laugh. As Vasili approached Bull quickly moved in to block him. Vasili was forced to back off and hit his brakes otherwise he would risk hurting himself and his car. Vasili ended falling way behind.

“Now,” said Max as he saw what a wide opening he had. He moved to the farthest lane away from Bull and Vasili. Before either of the two drivers could notice him, Max shifted up a gear and activated his own nitrous system. His Arden XKR accelerated past 170 mph thanks to the extra boost of the nitrous and was soon ahead of the pack.

“What?!” exclaimed Bull as he noticed Max’s XKR pass him on the far side of the road. “That son of a--!”

Bull shifted up and accelerated but found it hard to try and keep up with the XKR. He seemed to be having trouble reaching his power band. Max saw this on his rear view mirrors and smirked to himself. Looks like he did decide to tune his engine to be peaky, thought Max. He shifted up again to top gear and brought his car to an almost untouchable 185 mph.

Bull was now very angry. He decided to go with his own nitrous kit. Only through that would he be able to catch up with Max now. Of course, he wasn’t planning to actually pass Max yet. Bull’s mustang mustered all the power it could pull out. Soon enough the Mustang was nearly bumper to bumper with the XKR. Max noticed and braced himself for what he knew was coming.

“Time to pay you back, pizza boy!” exclaimed Bull as the Mustang rammed into the XKR hard.

This wasn’t the first time Max had to duke it out with a “rammer.” He’d dealt with them before. The best anyone can do is simply speed up and get a grip on the steering wheel and hope you can get away from the guy. If that didn’t work, sometimes it would be better to just let the guy pass. But this was an opponent Max couldn’t let past him. He needed to keep his grip firm and wait this out. To do so, Max gripped the sides of the wheel and pushed against it in order to flatten his back against his seat. He also rested his head on the seat so that if he gets rammed again his head won’t shoot backwards. He also braced his left foot on the floor under the clutch pedal. He was now in as stable a position as he could get.

Max figured that bumper of his wasn’t gonna last much longer. He could tough this out until the end.

Bull reeled up and rammed into the smaller XKR once again. The XKR jolted a bit but ultimately stayed in a straight and narrow. The raging stallion behind him bearing down on the frightened cat as Bull tried again, squeezing out a jet of nitrous into his engine and ramming the XKR which again failed to budge that much. The punishment to his front bumper was starting to show as the flimsy material had already broken off its hinges and was hanging just barely.

Bull couldn’t see this and even if he could he wouldn’t care too much. He pressed the nitrous button on his steering wheel and once again rammed right into the back of the XKR. Max stayed vigilant and refused to lose control of his car. With that, the Mustang’s front bumper was hanging on by its last bolt and so was the rear bumper of Max’s Jag.

“C’mon dude,” said Max quietly to himself. “You can do better than that can’t you?”

With only a mile left until the finish line, Bull was on his last nerve. The other two were practically out of the running now duelling with the Police Interceptor and it was either gonna be him or Max. He had to do something and he had to do it then and there. He had no time left to waste.

This time he emptied his nitrous tanks and rammed full-speed into Max’s rear. For a second there Max almost lost control but he gripped onto control just enough to keep the car going straight. All he really lost was his rear bumper which fell off from the impact of the crash, almost at the exact same time that the Mustang’s front bumper fell off its last bolt. The two large pieces of fibreglass bounced off the road and while the rear bumper of the XKR went up, the front bumper of the Mustang went down.

The rear bumper flew up and over the hood of the Mustang, smashing the front windshield. At the same time, the front bumper went under the Mustang and bumped into the rear wheels causing them to violently jolt upwards. This combination was enough to completely throw the Mustang, and its driver completely out of whack. Bull wasn’t able to react in time when his car suddenly slid sideways. While sliding the momentum caused his car to tip to the side and soon Bull found himself in an airborne car.

The Mustang flipped half-way then hit the ground with its roof, bounced off the pavement, and was carried over to two more flips by its own momentum. It finally came down crashing back on all four wheels then spinning out slightly, coming to rest in the middle of the road. The two cars behind Bull, Vasili and Natasha, narrowly avoided crashing into the wrecked Mustang as they caught up.

The Police Porsche wasn’t so lucky, as it careened into the side of the Mustang, both cars shrieking in tortured pain as they collided with the crash barrier and came to rest in a twisted tangle of wreckage.

Inside, Bull was all alive but not exactly fully conscious. However he had enough brain power left to determine that the race was over. He looked up at the dour face of the GIBBD Militsiya man stepping calmly out of the ruin of his Porsche, his baton already drawn and thudding in his hand.

“Shit,” was all he could manage.

* * *

Back at the finish line.

The crowds have been cheering on as they continuously watched the action on their Wi-Fi connections. But now, as the sound of a rapidly approaching V8 AJ20 could be heard, they all turned away from their video devices and watched as Max’s XKR crossed the finish line then braked hard, kicking up a cloud of smoke. Max quickly jumped out of his car and raised his fist in victory.

A crowed gathered around the XKR in a blink of the eye. Just then, the SAAB and the RX-8 came in and crossed the finish line, though in a slower, less flashy manner. Still, those two runner-up cars were met with applause and cheer. Natasha and Vasili slowly stepped out of their cars. Both watched as the crowd continued to congratulate Max then they turned their sights to each other across the roof of their cars.

“No bad feelings?” asked Natasha.

Vasili simply looked away, sighed in exasperation, looked back up at her, smirk slightly, and shrugged his shoulders. Natasha seemed to have understood the gesture and nodded back at him with a slight smirk of her own. She then looked back towards the man that beat her.

“He really is the Grip Master,” she said quietly to herself.

Meanwhile Max was soon met by Vlad, who forced his way through the crowds and managed to grab Max’s tightly from behind.

“You did it!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe it! You actually won!”

“Can’t believe it?” said Max. “You mean you doubted me? I must be losing my charm.”

“So, where’s Jae gone?” Vlad asked, looking about him, surprised.

Max frowned as well, listening to the roar of police sirens getting closer to them. “I dunno, but we have to go before the Militsiya get here…”

He pulled out his w880i and put it to his ear, as he climbed back into his car and started the wounded cat, glad when he heard the distinctive purr of his engine. Nodding again to Vlad he accelerated away.