Fic: Wild Force (pt. 9)
[ disclaimers and header info] [prologue]
[ part 2] [ part 3] [ part 4] [ part 5] [ part 6]
[ part 7] [ part 8]
The blue and black RX-8 was burning a hole in the competition, and Marc was really curious to see who the hell was driving her. The tinted windows were always rolled up, and only the guy signalling the race could see who was in there. It was currently waiting to drag against Razor, and Marc was hoping his boy could figure out what everyone could only guess at.
He gave Dom a smile as the man joined him on the sidelines. They said nothing, preferring to watch in silence. And then, to their surprise, the driver's side window was rolled down, but the angle prevented them from seeing in and they were too far away to hear whatever was said. After a few moments, it was rolled back up and both cars revved in anticipation.
And then they were off the line in a cloud of dust, and into the harsh light of the arid desert.
As Cale pulled up to the line and noted whom she was racing against, she had to roll her eyes. She rolled her window down and glanced into the cockpit of the BMW M3.
"Fancy meeting you here, Razor," she called.
"Well, fuck me, if it isn't Wild Force Kincaid. Did you hear? I'm Marc's new favourite now. He'll be handing Rockport over to me in a few months."
"You don't say?" Cale said, surprised. "If that's true, then Marc's inhaled far too much carbon monoxide."
Razor scowled. "Seeing as how I know for a fact that you were nowhere near my car, why don't we make a little wager on this one?"
"Forget a wager. I'll give you two-large to shut the fuck up."
"It'll take a lot more than that, I'm afraid. How about we put down five on this one, Force?" Razor flashed a wad of bills. "Think you can handle that?"
"Oh, I can handle it," Cale replied, flashing her own cash. With that, she rolled up her window, blotting out Razor's triumphant smirk.
The RX-8 revved nicely beneath her, and she focussed on the road ahead. Falling back into racing was like riding a bike, and Cale was happy to know her skills hadn't atrophied too much during her sabbatical. It had taken a few runs around a track for her to re-fuse with her ride, and it was nothing but relearning the ins-and-outs of how things worked on the inside of street racing.
With the handful of victories she had gained over the last day or so, this race with Razor felt good to her. She knew she could take him. Especially if he still raced they way he used to. As both cars jumped off the line, Cale paced herself slightly, knowing that Razor liked to make a show of the first hundred yards. She let him have that little ego-boost, and once he had enough rope to hang himself, she kicked it into gear and floored it.
When Razor hit his burst of spray, Cale had to smile. "Who the fuck doesn't upgrade to direct-injection NOS when they get the chance? Oh, right. You don't Razor. Loser."
Cale gave her baby a hit of NOS and in no time, she was passing Razor and crossing the line. The two cars came around the track and Razor blasted past her. Once they were back alongside the crowds, Razor spun the BMW to a stop and block Cale's path. This, of course, grabbed the crowd's attention, so they now had an audience.
She watched as Razor slammed his door shut as she calmly got out. They met each other halfway. At the forefront of the crowd were Dom and Marc. The look on Marc's face was a mix of recognition, surprise and...yes!...happiness. Dom's look was a bewildered one. Suppose Jesse wasn't able to dig this particular piece of dirt up on me, then. Which means Marc did a really good job of keeping Wild Force anonymous. Oh well. Now he knows. Cale smiled. Things were going as planned, so far.
"You think you can just show up out of nowhere after two years and retake your place in society, don't you?" Razor said furiously. "Well, let me tell you, Kincaid. Things have changed since you left, and when I take over Rockport I'll see to it that you stay out for good. You can bet on that."
Cale rolled her eyes. "You are an all-talk spaz, Razor. If you knew half as much about racing as you do about what you see in the mirror each morning, then maybe I could believe that. But trust me, if you wanna run your own outfit, then you can't be losing innocuous races like this. And especially not to the likes of me."
With a sneer, Razor tossed the cash he owed Cale at her feet and turned on his heel. Cale noticed as Marc put a restraining hand on Dom's shoulder. The man looked like he was going to rip Razor's head off. Cale didn't blame him.
"How very mature of you," she said with a hint of indifference. She watched as Razor got back into his car, once more slamming the door shut. The car purred to life and he peeled off.
Once he was gone, Cale crouched to pick up the cash before she turned back to her own car. Marc's voice stopped her.
"Cale ‘Wild Force' Kincaid," he said, with a chuckle. "I should have known."
Cale turned to watch him as he approached. They stood face-to-face. "It's been a while, Marc."
"Yes it has. See you changed the ride." He gestured to the car.
Cale shrugged. "Are you surprised, after what happened?"
"No, I suppose not." He gave her a paternal smile. "Well done, kiddo. Well done." He gave her shoulder an affectionate pat, and then walked past her, grinning. Cale turned to watch him go, her face blank.
"So you're Wild Force," Dom said behind her, as the crowd dispersed. Cale turned to him.
"Yes."
He nodded slowly, hands crossed over his chest. He regarded her a moment longer before he, too, turned, leaving Cale standing alone. She let out the breath she had been holding, and climbed back into her car.
Coulda been worse, Kincaid. Coulda been worse, she mused as she turned around and headed back to her camp.