Hard and Fast (4 page)

“How is yours different?” Lucas probed.

“In almost every way. Only Alex can really explain the technical details, to be honest. But in the end, it will be lighter, run faster and longer on electrical power. The battery will charge in minutes with gas fuel, not hours,” Marco explained, his voice vibrating with energy and excitement. “For racing, that means higher velocity. Possibly record-breaking speed.”

“And for the consumer market?” asked Lucas, already sensing the possibilities.

“In an average sedan, we think a twenty-gallon gas tank could last two months. The rechargeable battery would be efficient and durable enough to last the lifetime of the car.”

Lucas stared at the profile of the other man, his brain running various analytical calculations at genius-level speeds. If what Marco was describing was just half-accurate, it was serious business, with implications way beyond the car racing industry.

“Who else knows about the specs, besides your employees?” he asked in a calm tone.

“Up until this morning, Alex and I were the only ones who knew everything. But the racing team would have been brought up to speed before they left for the road test,” explained Marco. “Other than that, we have three investors that we’ve been providing monthly updates. But even they think we’ve only focused on building a lighter and faster hybrid for the race at the Sea-to-Sky Highway in June.”

“What is the Sea-to-Sky Highway? Is this an event Magnus participates in?” Lucas asked.

“It’s an open race up the steepest part of the Sea-to-Sky Highway to Whistler in B.C. We’ve sent a racing team for the last three years, but haven’t cracked the top ten spot yet,” he detailed. “But it wasn’t until Adam North shared his battery technology that Alex saw the broader possibilities. Her engine and his battery show potential on their own, but together, they are a game-changer.”

The puzzle pieces all fit together, and Lucas was buzzing with alert energy. Magnus Motorsports was a small, independently owned custom fabricator for car parts with impressive results in racing components. It didn’t make sense that they would be a target for the type of funded cyber attack that Timothy Pratt had been fronting. Sure, small businesses had their fair share of intellectual property thefts, everything from client lists and marketing strategies to trade secrets and design schematics. But, it was almost always at the hands of disgruntled employees or business partners. They were typically crimes of opportunity, with only a little planning or forethought.

Pratt’s setup suggested something much more far-reaching and big-budget. Based on what Marco had now revealed, there was no telling who or what companies were willing to steal the Cicada.

“The only way to fully protect you is to figure out who’s trying to steal your design,” Lucas explained. “Before that, we need to make sure everything related to the Cicada is now stored beyond the VPN and firewall on your network and backed up.”

Marco nodded as he turned into the entrance of a large parking lot.

“I met with Alex on Friday after you had sent me your recommendations. We should be all set by tomorrow morning.”

As they drove into the pit entrance of the field, Lucas looked around at the large open area. There were several grandstand seating structures along the three-mile asphalt track, with the largest at the starting mark, on the other side of the pit stop. Only one car moved around the track at racing speed.

Marco parked in the gravel near the track, and they both stepped out of the car. Lucas followed him toward the edge of the track where two men were standing, wearing matching gray coveralls, looking through a folder. He recognized them from the shop floor that morning.

“How’s it going?” asked Marco as both of the engineers looked toward them.

“It’s crazy,” one of the two men replied, looking confounded.

“Lucas, meet Randy and Niles, two of the engineers on Alex’s team,” explained Marco, gesturing to the stocky, middle-aged man he first spoke to, and the second younger, more slender guy who was holding the folder. “Guys, this is Lucas Johnson, with our security firm, Fortis.”

Lucas shook hands with the engineers.

“Where’s Cotts?” Lucas asked. “I was hoping to get some more details on the work with Adam North.”

Marco laughed as they all looked back out onto the track. “You’ll have to wait until she’s done testing her baby.”

She? Lucas looked at him with a frown, but was distracted seconds later when a dark blue race-engineered Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution zipped by them, clocking at least one hundred and forty miles per hour. The sound of the wind wake and tire traction hit him in a flash, but the motor and exhaust were whisper-quiet.

“That’s your Cicada motor inside the Mitsubishi?” he asked, still feeling the power vibrating through his bones.

Marco’s eyes sparkled like a schoolboy at Christmas.

“That is it.”

The four men stood and watched the car complete another couple of laps, each seemingly faster than the previous. Before the last pass, the older engineer, Randy, whipped his hands in the air.

“They’re going to do a final lap at max velocity,” Marco explained.

Lucas nodded, then stepped forward with the others to witness the results. He could feel the energy and excitement as the race car increased its speed coming out of the last curve of the lap.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and dark smoke surrounded the car. Sounds of tires squealing were mixed in with muttered and panicked curses from Marco and the two engineers. Within moments, they were all running toward the Mitsubishi, now spinning out in crazy circles up the straightaway.

CHAPTER 4

The area was immediately filled with the scream of an emergency siren as a geared-up red 4x4 truck pulled out of a garage at the far side of the field. There was too much commotion for Lucas to see the cause of the explosion, or the damage to the vehicle and the people inside of it. But his instincts were heightened, and he scanned the open area for any sign of threats, attacks, or hiding culprits, prepared for all possibilities.

Within a few seconds, the car pulled out of its dizzying spin to skid across the pavement until the rear end slammed into the short wall with a loud crunch. It was a chilling sound, prompting Lucas to refocus on the probable injury and damage to the people and assets inside. With his long, fast strides, he was well ahead of the others, reaching the collision site first, just before the safety team vehicle arrived, with a full firefighting system set up in the bed.

The smoke had thinned out, revealing a shredded rear tire. But, knowing how highly flammable racing fuel was, and how unpredictable collisions could be, everyone was clearly prepared for the worst-case scenario—a gas leak that would come in contact with the extremely hot exhaust system, triggering an instant fire, maybe even an explosion. The safety crew got busy, quickly setting up the required equipment.

“Alex! Bobby!” Marco was yelling from behind Lucas, and the firefighters and paramedics were shouting instructions to each other.

The driver’s-side door opened just as Lucas was about to reach for the handle. A young man, no more than twenty-one years old, climbed out from between the heavy white bars of the full roll cage. His angular face was ashen and clammy.

“We’re okay,” he whispered, though only Lucas was close enough to hear.

“Alex?” shouted Marco, still several yards away. “Bobby, is Alex okay?”

The young driver nodded, then bent over as though to prevent himself from fainting.

“You all right?” Lucas asked the driver.

He nodded again, coughing. A uniformed female paramedic jogged up to help.

“Any injuries or pain?” she asked, quickly guiding him away from the car, and got him to sit down at a safe distance.

Lucas turned back to the still-open passenger door, very aware of the danger to the other person in the car with every second that went by. There were no signs of smoke or sparks now, but that did not reduce his concern. He hunched down low enough to look into the interior. Whatever he expected to find, it wasn’t the large, golden brown eyes that stared back at him, round with panic.

“What . . . ?” she stammered, clearly as surprised as he was.

But Lucas’s analytical brain was working parallel to his instinctive actions.

“Are you okay?” he asked calmly.

The woman he knew as Lex blinked rapidly.

“Yes,” she finally stammered. “But I can’t get out. My door’s too close to the wall, and my seat won’t slide back any farther.”

Lucas could see the safety crew rushing around the vehicle, hear them yelling questions to the Magnus team about the specifics of the car and fuel. But he stayed focused on Alex as the seconds ticked by. He’d already mentally calculated her size, the dimensions of the space inside between the roll cage and various other large custom, fixed equipment installed between the two bucket seats.

“Okay, I’m going to pull you out through this side,” he explained, and she nodded quickly. “Ready?”

“Remove the steering wheel,” she told him, her voice now stronger, steadier.

Lucas followed her instructions without hesitation, and the large wheel slipped easily off the steering column. Someone beside him took it off his hands immediately. Then, he grasped both of Alex’s outstretched hands. Within three heartbeats he easily pulled her out of the vehicle headfirst until they both landed on the ground. Several people helped them to their feet and a member of the safety crew guided them over to where the driver was still sitting, drinking from a bottle of water.

“Are you okay, Bobby?” Alex asked him.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy,” he told her. “You? Were you stuck?”

Marco and the other three men surrounded them at that point, all asking questions at the same time, and sounding winded and panicked. Lucas did another discreet reconnaissance of the area, while Alex provided a multitude of answers and explanations. He even examined the road within causative range of the blowout, but there was nothing there to suggest sabotage.

“Lucas,” Marco called a few minutes later, waving him over with big arm gestures.

As Lucas jogged back to the site of the collision, the Magnus team was still assessing the damage, but the car was now running again. Alex was standing in front of the open hood.

“What’s the damage?” he asked.

She looked up at him, but barely long enough to make eye contact before she was back inspecting her engine.

“Surprisingly little,” Marco told him from where he was now crouched at the back end of the car. “It needs some panel work and the bulbs are busted. But other than that, we’re in good shape.”

He heard the car hood slam shut and turned to face the woman who had been an annoying disturbance to his sleep the night before.

“Alex Cotts, I presume,” he stated with a cocky smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” she shot back, expressionless as she walked toward him. “And yet I know nothing about you other than a first name, Lucas.”

“Glad you remembered,” Lucas continued, then winced imperceptibly. It sounded like a completely inappropriate flirt, even to his ears.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he added. “That was a pretty close call.”

“I’m fine,” she replied with an exasperated eye roll. “It was just a tire blowout. It happens. So, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here?”

Marco interrupted their conversation.

“Alex really knows how to make a first impression, doesn’t she?” he said to Lucas, looking back and forth between them.

Now that the emergency was over, with minimal damage, the excitement about their motor’s performance was obviously returning.

“I try, Markie-Mark,” she replied to her boss, tapping his cheeks like he was a child. “Now, who is it that I’m making an impression on and why is he at our road test?”

Marco laughed, not the least bit offended by her nickname or playful teasing. She could tell that he was flying high with adrenaline. She felt the exact same way.

“This, Alexandria, is our security consultant, Lucas Johnson,” Marco stated as he dropped an arm around her shoulders. “Lucas, meet Alex Cotts, our lead engineer and inventor extraordinaire.”

Alex closed her eyes in a long blink as all the pieces fit together.

“We met last night, actually,” she told Marco, seeing no reason to pretend otherwise. “In the Metropolitan, at Shawn’s bachelor party.”

Lucas Johnson looked back at her with those pretty eyes, rimmed with long, inky lashes. A trace of his flirty smile still lingered on his lips.

“She makes a pretty good second impression, also,” he finally stated to Marco. “Nice to meet you, Alexandria.”

“Alex, please,” she insisted on reflex.

Still feeling uncomfortable about his presence in her “work” world, Alex turned back to the car and to business.

“Did Randy and Niles share the data?” she asked Marco in a soft, discreet voice. “Zero to sixty in four-point-nine seconds, Markie! That’s just right out of the gate! Then Bobby got it to about one-sixty-two down that last stretch. Once we’ve cleaned it up a bit and dialed it in, I think we could hit one-eighty, no problem.”

Even saying the words sent chills down her spine. One hundred and eighty miles per hour for a race car with a turbo-charged engine was noteworthy, but it was unheard of for an electric-drive hybrid.

“Jesus, Alex! You don’t mess around, do you?” replied Marco, throwing his head back from the weight of her words. “That’s insane!”

“I know,” she agreed.

“Are you guys done here?” Marco asked.

“Yeah. Once the tow truck has the car loaded in the race trailer, we’re going to head back to the shop,” she explained.

“Okay. I’m going to head back now, but Lucas needs to get some information from you about the Cicada and your work with Adam,” explained Marco. “Can you meet with him when you get back?”

“Sure,” Alex immediately replied. She completely understood the security concerns.

“Good, thanks. I’ll have Norma order us some lunch to celebrate,” he added. “Great work, Alex. I always knew you could do it.”

He gave her shoulders a tight squeeze as he made the last statement. Alex was touched by his words, but tried to make light of it.

“I’m glad one of us did,” she shot back dismissively.

This time, Marco rolled his eyes before walking back to where Lucas Johnson stood talking to Bobby Chiu, the youngest member of her team. She watched the two men talk briefly. Lucas looked relaxed and unaffected by what had happened, but Alex didn’t miss the way he routinely scanned the area around the track, or the very sharp diligence in his eyes. While it was an unsettling surprise to have him walk into her professional life, his presence as a security consultant made her feel a little more safe.

“See you guys back at the shop,” Marco told her team a few minutes later as he and Lucas started across the asphalt toward Marco’s car.

“See you in a bit, Alex,” Lucas said simply as he walked by her.

She nodded, then got back to work. But it was very hard not to watch the tall, lean length of his body as the two men walked away.

The tow truck for the speedway arrived a few minutes later. Alex asked Randy to supervise the transportation of the Mitsubishi Evo loaded with the Cicada back to their trailer, parked behind the racing pit, while she, Bobby, and Niles finished their notes from the test. While the Cicada had outperformed her early projections, there was still a lot of potential for improvement based on what they had observed. They were also brainstorming ways to tweak the drivetrain design that could create more speed.

“I can look at other generators. There were a few in the catalog that could work,” Niles suggested. He had been assigned to build a mechanism that converts methanol gas power to the electrical power stored on high-capacity lithium-ion batteries.

“But they were heavier, right?” Alex recalled. “I don’t know if we can afford the extra weight.”

“We could if we made the combustion engine smaller,” Bobby proposed. “We only need enough gas to recharge the battery for ten to fifteen minutes when the batteries run low.”

“Or maybe we try various configurations in the drivetrain to maximize power output and save weight elsewhere,” Alex threw in.

“Like on the body of the Evo?” asked Bobby.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Let’s assume that whatever we add to the mechanics can be saved elsewhere.”

The three looked at each other, brains working.

“Hey, guys,” Randy interrupted as he ran up to them. “The car’s packed.”

“Randy, you did some work with carbon fiber panels in your last job, right?” Alex asked him.

“CF? Yeah. It’s amazing stuff but insanely expensive,” he replied.

“We might need to add weight to the power unit to get more speed. Could we do that by replacing parts of the body with CF?” she quizzed.

“Sure,” confirmed Randy, crossing his arms across his rounded chest. “But it’ll shoot your budget to shit.”

Alex let out a deep breath and looked at the ground.

“Okay, let’s head back to the shop and get everything in the system.” She started walking back to the pit stop area and her team followed. “Then we’ll run some models to improve the power-to-weight ratio.”

They loaded everything into the truck cabin and trailer, then headed back into the city. While Bobby drove and Randy rode shotgun, Alex sat in the backseat of the truck with Niles. They had gone to the University of Waterloo together, and he was the first person she had hired last year for the Cicada project.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, studying his expression. “Am I in over my head?”

Niles opened his mouth a few times, clearly trying to find the right words.

“It’s ambitious, Alex,” he finally replied. “When you revealed the final design this morning, with all the pieces we’ve been working on put together, I have to admit, I was skeptical. A series design hybrid hasn’t ever seriously been considered in passenger cars, never mind for racing. The typical electric motor just doesn’t generate enough sustainable power.”

“I know,” she conceded. “Which is why I started from scratch. Nothing on the market was going to work, right?”

“Exactly. It’s your motor that makes it work, Alex,” finished Niles. “So, no. You’re not in over your head. Even if we don’t get to the Sea-to-Sky Highway race with this design, you’ve already had a huge accomplishment. There’s nothing more to prove.”

She let out a big sigh before giving her friend a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Niles. I know it was awkward for you guys to be in the dark for so long. But it was essential before we filed the patent,” Alex explained. “Marco was really worried about the motor design ending up in the wrong hands. We still are.”

Nile waved his hand dismissively.

“You guys were very clear about the situation from the get-go. I don’t know about the others, but I’ve been too busy building the regenerative braking system and diagnostic controls to really worry about anything else.”

“Good. That makes me feel better. But I’m really glad to have you guys in the know so I can pick your brains.”

“That’s all we’re worth to you? Brain-picking?” Niles shot back with a big laugh. “In that case, I might be overpaid.”

Alex playfully punched him in the shoulder.