Chapter Six #2
The weather was balmy outside, just turning a bit cool, especially in the shade. Flyboy put on his sunglasses as he pointed to the vehicle parked not too far away.
“My, my, Center must pay their commandos very, very well,” she murmured.
This was an expensively-packaged European car, with the extra knobs and whistles under the hood, the kind one admired in a magazine with no hope of purchasing.
She paused a few paces away to admire it.
“Six hundred horsepower. Double overhead cams. Sixteen valves, supercharged. Top speed 180 miles an hour. Zero to sixty in five point five secs. Back to dead stop thirteen point five secs.”
Flyboy gave her a bemused look. “Not quite the typical girl talker, are you? Next you’ll tell me you’re a race freak.”
Helen stole a quick glance at Flyboy but he was just looking at her with open admiration. Strange coincidence that she had just passed on a certain image to Hades, and here was a race car. Still, they couldn’t have possibly produced the exact image in that quick a time.
“I like cars,” she said in an easy voice. “You must be superrich to own this one, sweetheart.”
“I like speed.” Flyboy grinned as he flipped the car keys into the air. “And I test drive vehicles for anyone who is kind enough to lend me fast things.”
T. had told her about Flyboy’s love of anything that flew. He was the youngest of the original COS commandos, enthusiastic and eager.
“Is that how you do everything? In hot pursuit?” she teased.
Flyboy laid an arm over her shoulders and hugged her close to him. Lowering his voice, he said, “It can be hot, but it doesn’t have to be fast all the time, babe.”
Helen laughed, shaking her head. He was incorrigible.
“Look who’s going out,” Flyboy added.
Helen turned and watched as Alex Diamond approached, motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He looked just as lethal in a leather jacket.
“We’re bumping into each other a lot today,” Helen remarked. “You lunching, too?”
Alex studied them for a moment. “I didn’t think you were allowed to eat anything other than the crap they feed you in there,” he said, not even pausing as he walked by. Clearly, he didn’t expect a conversation.
Meaning alcohol, caffeine, ibuprofen…Helen went through a mental list of all the no-nos she had to observe. She shrugged. What was new about her boring life? She caught sight of the motorcycle parked nearby. Nice machine.
“At least I can still speed, right?” she called. That was probably the longest sentence the man had ever said to her.
Diamond turned. “Good luck, Helen,” he said quietly.
“Thanks.” Helen frowned as she looked at his back.
“What is it?” Flyboy rubbed her shoulder.
“Nothing.” Except Alex Diamond’s stance, the way he stood so still, reminded her of…She shook her head mentally. “Just one of those passing thoughts. Now, let’s see you test drive this baby, Flyboy.”
He unlocked the car and bowed extravagantly as she got in. “Zero to sixty in five point five secs, sweetheart. We’re going maximum horsepower.”
Helen batted her eyes. “Oh, my. The things you do to a girl’s heart rate.”
Helen liked to analyze a man by the car he drove.
This expensive vehicle might not be Flyboy’s but he looked very comfortable in it.
His hands ran around the steering wheel as if he were giving it a caress.
He made some quick adjustments, then turned to make sure she had her seat belt on.
He winked as he leaned over, pulling on the strap.
“Just double-checking out of habit,” he said.
She had a feeling that he did a lot of double-checking.
In his job, the tiniest mistake could be fatal.
The way he moved around, looking in control, he seemed to be about to take the car for a spin in the heavens.
Like any sportster, the interior was more like the inside of an aircraft, with just enough legroom and head space, and the instrument panel lit up by all kinds of dials.
“What’s the fastest speed you’ve driven in a car?” she asked, curious.
“Two hundred, two hundred and twenty.” That was traveling the length of a football field a second. “Scared?”
She arched a brow at him. He grinned. The car started with a smooth growl, like a wild animal ready to take off. Flyboy gave her a grin and an A-OK signal. “You ready?” he yelled above the engine.
“Show me what you got,” she challenged back.
Minutes later, they were flying down the scenic route.
Not that there was much of that to see, Helen mused, as everything zipped by at an alarming blur.
She glanced at the man beside her, his attention totally focused on the road.
He changed gears and accelerated smoothly, one hand on the wheel and the other still on the stick shift.
She watched the speedometer going up into the red zone.
She liked fast cars, always had. And she was totally fascinated at the ease with which Flyboy was handling the vehicle.
Minimum movement, as if the car was an extension of his body.
Just a totally relaxed man, enjoying something that would have most people at the edge of their seats.
He made her forget how noisy these cars were.
There was joy radiating from him that would make a woman jealous.
She didn’t interrupt his pleasure, preferring to let him take her wherever he wanted. This was probably a side of him that he seldom shared, when he dropped that heartthrob image and became pure pilot. Here, that teasing streak had taken on a quiet intensity that she had never seen in him before.
When he finally slowed down, the car purring to a more manageable speed, he turned and flashed her a smile sexy enough to curl her toes. The man was definitely turned on by speed.
“Thanks,” he said, simply.
She understood. They had a love for living on the edge and not caring about the consequences. “Was it good for you, too?” she teased.
He laughed, a carefree sound, as if this was the best ride of his life. “Ah, Helen, Helen. What you do to a guy.”
“Tell me what you think of this car.”
He took the turn off the scenic route, back to normal highway traffic. “It corners extremely well. I barely needed to move the steering wheel. That’s what makes a great car, in my opinion, the cornering speed.”
“It’s a good driver that makes the cornering speed,” Helen pointed out.
He glanced at her briefly. “How did you get to like racing? You’re obviously familiar with cars. I know you’ve driven very fast before because you didn’t even hold on to anything just now. Either that, or you’re an adrenaline junkie.”
Helen laughed. “Or both,” she suggested, as a slight evasion. “Speed is fun, and being the one in control of it is an indescribable feeling—like being at one with the world.”
“As close to Zen as one can get,” agreed Flyboy. “How experienced are you behind the wheel?”
“Not as experienced as you think. I don’t have the resources that you have.”
“So, who owned the few cars you did drive?”
She studied her nails. “Boyfriends.”
“Whoa. Wealthy boyfriends. I’m not in your league, Miss Roston.”
“Yeah, I’m a picky girl,” Helen mocked, “but you got one thing going for you, babe.”
His laughing eyes met hers. “What’s that? Fantastic sex?”
Oh, he would be fantastic in bed. All he had to do was lounge there and be devoured, but of course he knew that already. “Nope.” She leaned closer conspiratorially. “Being a pilot, you have other bigger things for me to ride in.”
They both laughed. One thing fun about flirting with Flyboy. He didn’t take himself too seriously. That was very important in Helen’s playbook, especially in a good-looking guy.
Lunch gave a good opportunity to ask some questions outside the Center.
Helen was never sure who was listening in at that place.
She’d watched T. carefully scan the ladies’ room, where they usually met, with one of her special rings.
Granted, her operations chief was a very careful woman by nature, but if even she was paranoid about her workplace, then Helen figured she had better be, too.
Flyboy and she had a mutual passion—racing—and she understood his love for speed very well. He actually described it better than she could, probably because he had traveled at faster speeds than she would ever have the chance to try.
“Euphoria, or close to it. You’re flowing and floating, even though you know you aren’t, and you have total control of the craft. You can go upside down or nosedive, and still feel perfectly at ease. There’s no conscious effort, yet…” He trailed off, studying her. “Not boring you, I hope.”
“No, no, not at all. It’s the feeling of fearlessness. Or lack of fear. It’s just you and…well, if it’s driving, you and the road and total focus.”
He seemed surprised and pleased at her words, as if he hadn’t expected her to understand.
But Helen had enough information to know that despite his flirtatious demeanor, Flyboy wasn’t all heartbreaker; he could fly some of the most sensitive aircrafts in the world.
Besides that, he was a COS commando, a man who had undergone extreme experiments and training, just as she had.
“Yes,” he agreed. “And trust, total trust in yourself and the vehicle.”
Which brought up the subject of her vehicle, the Portal. Of the people she had been introduced to these past few months, Flyboy was the most approachable. Because he had used VR for his work, their conversation naturally turned to aspects of her training.
“Yes, I want to try out the Portal.” He answered her questions in between bites of hamburger. “It’s modeled after the one I’m famous for, you know.”
“What do you mean?”