The Pyramid of Doom: A Novel by Andy McDermott

The Pyramid of Doom: A Novel by Andy McDermott

Author:Andy McDermott [McDermott, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, Suspense, Romance, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Adventure, Historical
ISBN: 9780553593631
Amazon: 0553593633
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2010-09-28T05:00:00+00:00


Eddie was quickly discovering that driving a racing car was vastly harder than it looked. The slightest touch of the stiff and heavy accelerator seemed to send several hundred horsepower instantly to the rear wheels, making the back end slither about wildly, and with cold tires and not enough speed for the wings to generate downforce it felt like driving on an ice rink.

To make matters worse, even though he was now on the racing track, the road was still busy with civilian traffic—coming straight at him. He was going around the circuit the wrong way. What was more, since he was sitting so low to the ground, the oncoming headlights were at eye level, dazzling him.

He swerved, barely avoiding the monolithic nose of a Bentley—only to have one end of the front wing disintegrate into razor splinters of carbon fiber as it scraped against the roadside crash barrier. He battled with the steering wheel, ignoring the battery of furiously flashing warning lights on it as he struggled to stay in a straight line.

Back into two-way traffic he joined the Avenue d’Ostende and descended the hill toward the harbor, but being able to go with the flow was little help as this road was even busier. The back end of a Range Rover loomed: he braked, sliding forward as the wheels locked up. The engine threatened to stall, and he pushed the accelerator again.

Too hard.

The car lunged, cracking his head another blow. The other side of the front fender shattered against the Range Rover’s rear wheel, shards stabbing into the rubber.

Eddie swerved away as the big 4 × 4’s tire exploded and it crashed down on its alloy wheel rim. “Sorry!”

But the broken chunks of carbon fiber had also damaged his own tire, the front wheel shuddering as he steered around another car. He was losing what little control he had.

And he could hear something else over the engine’s scream—sirens. The police were coming. It wouldn’t exactly be hard for them to pick out his car from the rest of the vehicles.

He had to get to the harbor before they caught him.

The other cars almost blocked his view of the road ahead, but he could see enough to tell that he was coming to the bottom of the hill. Which, he remembered from past races on TV, was the location of the first turn after the start.

A sharp turn.

“Oh shit,” he gasped. Even in first gear, he was doing close to fifty miles an hour as he zigzagged through the traffic toward the Saint Devote corner. And the corner itself was busy, a complex intersection in its everyday guise.

He saw what he hoped was a clear line, aimed for it …

With a whap! of escaping high-pressure nitrogen, the damaged front tire sloughed off the wheel rim.

The car spun out, sliding almost sideways before the back wheel bashed against a Ferrari, sending Eddie’s vehicle into a mad pirouette through the junction. The world was a blur—but he could make out a crash barrier getting closer with each revolution.



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