Half-Inched by Simon Wood

Author:Simon Wood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Wood Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Lap Ten

We spent the rest of the night at Radu’s workshop thrashing out what to do next. Everyone tossed in their ideas until we came up with something we liked, but it wasn’t perfect. Our strategy was solid but it relied on a single moment of spontaneity. Spontaneity was good. Petric wouldn’t have any defence against that, but by the same token, it also meant we had little control over outside forces. It was the issue that kept us arguing until midnight, but it looked to be our best solution in a difficult situation.

“Time for bed,” I said.

“For you, yes,” Steve said. He slapped Radu on the back. “We've got a lot of prep work to do if we’re going to pull this off.”

Radu nodded and smiled. Steve possessed a knack for endearing people to him.

“I’ll stay then.”

“No, get some sleep. You're going to need all your wits about you when you snatch that GT40 tomorrow. There’ll be no point in us stealing it if you stuff it because you're exhausted.”

“I’ll lend a hand,” Dylan said and Steve nodded.

Sofia drove me back to the hostel and the guys worked while I slept. I awoke to an empty room. They'd be wrecked, but it wasn’t the first all-nighter we’d pulled. Motor racing was a deadline sport. You did what you had to do to get that car and driver to the finish line, ignoring the cold, setbacks, sleep deprivation and anything else that could get in the way.

I showered and pulled on fresh clothes, the last I had in my luggage. Half of driving good was feeling good and a clean, comfortable set of clothes did it for me.

My mobile rang as I pulled on my jacket. It was seven on the dot and Sofia was outside. I met her by her car with our luggage. One way or another, Steve, Dylan and I weren’t returning tonight. This was our last day in Moldova, for better or worse.

It was bitterly cold but at least it wasn’t raining or snowing. The GT40 would be a handful when I lit it up. I dumped the bags in the back of her Golf.

We picked up coffee and breakfast for everyone at a café and drove back to Radu’s workshop. We found the three of them sitting on chairs playing cards. Despite the cheers we got for our arrival, they looked done in.

“Are we ready?” I asked, handing out coffee and bread rolls.

“We are.”

Steve was my grandfather but he was also my pit chief. I didn’t do anything unless he gave it the green light.

I walked up to Radu’s truck. A tarp covered what looked to be the outline of a large saloon sitting on the flatbed. Sofia walked over and lifted the corner of the tarp.

“Hey, no peeking,” Steve called.

Sofia dropped the tarp.

“Have you guessed what it is yet?” Dylan said, putting on a terrible impersonation of Rolf Harris.

I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “Audi A8.”

“Correct,” he said. “Let’s hope everyone else will think the same.

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