Edit: I decided to post a new version of this story all in one part. It's basically the same, but with a few improvements.
Here's a picture of the car I based it on (the Bugatti Veyron)with a little tinkering from paint.net.
Spy Car Bugatti Veyron: Part One
It was a beauty.
The sports car rolled to a stop under the green canopy’s shadow at the entrance of Francois’ Gourmet. The freshly polished hood and silvery hubcaps reflected the restaurant’s facades and all the valets that stood at the ready. I pulled back the white cuff of my uniform to see my watch and smiled. It was seven PM. When he came, it was always precisely at seven, not a minute more or less.
No one knew for sure what brand the car was, nor its model. Frankie, a friend and coworker that stood beside me, was practically twitching he was so excited. The two of us were the biggest car fanatics that worked at Francois’, but we still couldn’t identify it. Not wanting our reputation to be hurt, we’d settled on telling everyone it was most likely a custom-made foreign car from Germany or something. Sure, we could have asked the owner himself what it was, but where was the fun in that?
The two door car had a black base paint and a crimson streak running from the headlights on both sides to behind the doors. It had a streamline design, with its smooth curves and subtle spoiler. Through the windshield I could see the eggshell-colored leather interior, the well-dressed owner and that week’s date sitting comfortably within the air conditioned walls. I wiped the sweat from my brow. It was hot, and the prospect of cool air was nearly as inviting as the hum of the engine begging me to let it loose.
The man shut off the engine and got out of the car. He walked to the other side, opened his lady’s door, and, with a bow of sorts, offered his hand. She took it and stepped out, giggling at his formality.
The man’s date, as usual, was a babe. She was wearing a dark blue, ankle-length dress that hugged her curvy figure before draping loosely past the hips. Her long, honey-blonde hair could only be described as bouncy, for with every turn of the head, her wavy locks seemed to dance about in celebration of some unknown joy. She seemed a bit… ditsy, to put it nicely, compared to his usual dates, but I didn’t plan on bringing that up.
I looked from her to the man and couldn’t help but shake my head. How he found all these beautiful women, I didn’t know, nor did I know how he romanced them into a date. He was always at least ten years older than them. His brown hair was lined with a few streaks of gray and was greasy, having been slicked back with a glob of pomade. He wore the same black suit every time I saw him, a white dress shirt beneath the suit jacket and red tie. He was smiling as she took his arm in hers, an amused tug at the corner of his lips.
“Good evening, sir,” I said as they walked up. “Ma’am.” I bobbed my head towards his date. She smiled back with her surprisingly white teeth.
“Yes, good evening,” the man replied with a British accent, dropping the keys into my open palm. I handed him a ticket with a number as he put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “Careful with her now.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a trustworthy smile. “She’ll be fine in my hands.”
He chuckled, finding it amusing. “Oh, I know you’ll do fine. She hasn’t come back with a scratch yet has she? No, it’s just a habit. I’m sure you can handle her. Shall we?” He turned away and led his date towards the entrance while whispering something in her ear that aroused a fit of giggles.
I walked over and opened the car door. Residual cool air seeped out.
“Tip is on the seat,” the man called from outside the restaurant’s entrance. I turned and thanked him with a wave as he passed through the open door-way.
The tip; another great reason to park the man’s car. I plopped into the comfy, leather seat and took the crisp, fifty dollar bill sitting on the passenger seat. I pulled out my wallet and slipped it inside. Whenever the man came it was always a big tip. The only reason there was little competition for being his valet was because I told everyone I’d yet to receive more than a dollar. Well, that and the fact that he didn’t trust anyone else with the car. Why, I didn’t know. But then again, I didn’t care.
With my wallet back in my back pocket, I stuck the key in the ignition and fired it up. The engine hummed lightly, discretely, as if to say there wasn’t really anything special to be expected from it. Although I’d never experienced it, I knew there was power hidden within that unassuming hum. It was like a lion in sheep’s clothing. I put the car in drive, and pulled forward.
I took it slow and glanced out the window, enjoying the smooth ride. Frankie was slipping off the red vest and undoing the matching bowtie of his valet ensemble as he talked to our boss. I imagined the conversation in my head, taking cues from their actions.
I got to get going now, Bob, so I’ll see you later, Frankie said. He waved and started walking away, but Bob caught him by the arm.
Hey, Don’t go running off before your shift is up! he growled. You’ve got another few hours before I let you go, so get your ass back in place.
Come on Bob! Frankie whined. I told you yesterday me and Nick were going to a concert. Look, Mike and John are filling in for us. He pointed just as the two came walking up, laughing together about some joke.
Hey Bob, Mike said. We’re here to fill in for Nick and… Frankie! What are you still doing here? The concert starts in half an hour! Mike had been involved in plays back in high school, so I was pretty sure he’d be convincing. John, on the other hand, was to just keep quiet; he was a terrible actor and an equally horrendous liar.
I know! Frankie cried. But Bob won’t let me go!
Yah, but I don’t remember… Bob sputtered. Damn it, whatever. Just go. As long as you have these two filling in, it should be fine.
I lost view of them as I turned into the parking lot. Yellow lines divided up the large expanse of asphalt, and there were a lot of open parking spots. I passed by each and every one and drove on. I passed through the back entryway, which led to a backstreet with apartment buildings lining the far side. I pulled to a stop behind one of the apartments, leaned back in my seat, and let loose a ragged sigh.
Today was the day I would finally get to see what the man’s car could do. Ever since the first time I’d seen it, I’d craved to give it a good drive. The problem was that I’d never gathered up enough guts to pull it off. It had taken both my urges and Frankie’s incessant pleading that finally put me over the edge. The nerves were getting to me, though. I was shaky and already thinking about driving the car back into the parking lot before anyone noticed something amiss. A few years ago I probably would have been fine taking the risk of stealing a car. I’d done it, in fact. The problem was that they caught me… After a bit of time in prison, they let me out, but I was still on parole, so if they caught me again, it was back to the slammer.
Just as my fears reached their peak and were about to persuade me to stop the crime, Frankie came huffing down the sidewalk, wiping the sweat from his brow with his folded up vest. He opened the passenger door and hopped in.
“Ah man, I can’t believe we’re finally doing this!” he said. Frankie had long, red hair that he refused to cut, and it always had the slight dimple left by a consistently worn cap. He must have grabbed one from his car, because he was putting one on now, a faded blue one with the Element skateboarding logo on it. “Ready to go?”
My hands were on the wheel, squeezing it over and over in an attempt to vent my stress. It didn’t help much. “Hey, Frankie?”
“Yah, what?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
“Are you kidding me?”
I shrugged. “Well, with me on parole and all, I don’t think it’d be the best idea to steal a car.”
Frankie leaned back in his seat and moaned. “C’mon, Nick! We’re not stealing, we’re borrowing.”
“But if we get caught…”
“But we’re not going to. It’s all figured out!” He tapped his head and smiled. “That one guy always leaves exactly at eight, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, it’s only seven-ten. We drive around for about forty minutes, bring her back, and then you go running up to Bob saying you forgot to turn in the keys. He’ll probably forgive you since you’ll supposedly be skipping a concert.”
I thought about lying, and saying I hadn’t, hence making the whole plan too risky. But I wasn’t sure I’d be able to gather the guts to get this far again. I looked at the wheel and ran my hands up and down the cool leather. It could very well be a once in a lifetime chance.
“Alright,” I grinned, pushing away all my fears. Frankie brightened up. “Let’s go!” I put it in drive, slammed down the gas pedal, and let the engine show its true colors with a lionhearted roar.
Frankie let out a hoot of excitement as the tires squealed and spat out smoke before we dashed out onto the road.
“Hey man, pull over,” Frankie said after twenty minutes of high speed riding.
“Why?” I asked as I took a sharp, left turn, the inertia forcing us to the right.
“Just do it.”
“Alright…” I pulled up to a curb and put it in park. “So what’s up? We only got about twenty minutes before we need to head back.”
“That’s the point. It’s my turn to drive.”
I bit my lip, not wanting to give up my seat. It had been so long since I’d let loose like this, and besides, we were both wild, but at least I had control. Handing the wheel of such a car over to Frankie was like tossing a priceless vase to a man without arms. Enough said.
“Maybe I should just keep driving. I am the one taking the biggest risk after all since I was the one who drove off with it.”
Frankie shook his head. “Tch, should have known you’d hog it.” He got out of the car, walked over to my side, and opened the door. “C’mon, Nick, get out. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You could crash! Let’s face it, you don’t exactly have the best driving record.”
“I don’t care, fair is fair!” He grabbed me by the neck of the shirt and tried to pull me out, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. A small scuffle emerged as we wrestled each other, him trying to get me out, me trying to stay inside.
Frankie eventually got me into a headlock and was trying to get me to say uncle when a loud, pulsing beep suddenly filled the car. We both paused. Frankie loosened his hold on me and we looked up at the car panel, where the sound came from.
A blue dot of light appeared towards the center of the panel. In one quick jaunt, it drew the outline of a blue square, and, with a faint sigh, a screen flipped up from it. We leaned towards it as a radar of sorts appeared on the black screen, a red dot moving towards its center.
“What the heck…” Frankie said before being cut off by an electronic, female voice.
“Warning: Missile detected. Approximate time until impact: Thirty seconds… Twenty nine… Twenty eight… Twenty seven…”
We both looked at each other.
“I-it’s kidding,” I said, laughing nervously. “Right?”
Frankie nodded slowly, still staring at the radar.
“Twenty six… Twenty five… Twenty four…” The voice continued. The pulsing beeps went on in the background, speeding up as the red dot neared its target.
Frankie took a few steps away from the car and looked up at the sky.
“Twenty three… Twenty two… Twenty one…” Beep… Beep… Beep…
I saw him concentrating on something, so I leaned out the door to see what he was looking at.
A dot in the sky.
“Twenty… Nineteen… Eighteen…” Beep… Beep… Beep…
The dot in the sky grew in both size and detail. The shape was cylindrical and left a trail of smoke, something yellow rippling behind it.
“Seventeen… Sixteen… Fifteen…” Beep… Beep… Beep…
“Holy shit!” Frankie stumbled away from the car and took off across the street. I looked from what was no longer simply a dot, but a quickly gaining missile, to Frankie, who’d disappeared into someone’s bushes, and then back.
“Fourteen…” Beep…
My mind was thrown out of the numb doldrums it had been in and was racing for a decision. Should I run? No, if the car got destroyed then who would be held responsible when the owner couldn’t find it? Yah, that would be me, and this time I’d be put away for a long time.
“Thirteen…” Beep…
I was beginning to sweat, and not from the heat. I kept staring at the missile, watching it get closer and closer. I thought about driving away in the car, but would I be able to make it? Could the car go fast enough? Because if it didn’t, I was dead.
“Twelve…” Beep… Beep…
“Dang it!” I yelled, slamming my fists into steering wheel. I slammed the door shut and put the car in drive. It was all or nothing.
“Eleven…” Beep… Beep…
I slammed my foot into the gas pedal and took off down the street. I pushed the engine to its limit, the speedometer shooting up to sixty in a matter of seconds. It still wasn’t fast enough. The countdown continued.
“Ten…” Beep… Beep… Beep…
“Go faster!” I cried out.
Over the countdown, the feminine voice said “Please choose a specific command.”
A blue dot of light appeared on the armrest between the seats that performed the same jaunt as the dot from before. A touch screen flipped up, taking up the entire armrest. Displayed on the screen were a series of diagram-like renderings of the car with different modifications on each. Words like “land”, “sea”, and “air” were written beneath each depiction.
“Nine…” Beep… Beep… Beep…
“What do I do?” I asked, not caring that I was asking a car. The beeping and the countdown were still continuing, and they showed no signs of letting up.
“Shit!” I yanked the wheel to the right and fought the power of inertia as I turned onto a busy, four-lane road. My heart skipped as three cars screeched to a halt to avoid me and another clipped the back end of the car, making us both fish-tail in a fight for control. Honking horns filled the air.
“Please choose a specific command.”
“Six…” Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep.
I cursed in frustration. The missile had gained a few precious seconds from when the car had slowed down for the turn. I took back control of the car and kept the pedal pressed to the floor, weaving in an out of traffic as I ripped down the road.
“Five…” Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep.
The despair set in and I could hardly think. I couldn’t outrun it. How could I? It didn’t have all this traffic to worry about. If only I didn’t have that problem. If only I could fly…
The solution hit me. I looked down at arm-rest screen, and sure enough, I saw one of the selections entitled “air” with a picture of an air-plane-winged car. Would it work? Did I have time?
“Four…” Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep.
No. There was no choice. It was my only chance. I jammed my finger onto the “air” selection.
For a moment, nothing happened. But then the car began to rumble. Blue dots appeared all over the hood and dashed to the rest of the car, dividing the bodywork into a circuit-board-like pattern.
“Three…” Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep.
The car let out a loud sigh as each individual section that had been divided up began to move, changing the shape of the car as a whole. I looked out the window and couldn’t believe my eyes as a pair of red wings sprouted out from the sides of the car. I glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw the trunk fold open, revealing two, silvery jet engines that rose up and rumbled with potential firepower.
“Two…” Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep.
A blue dot dashed around the wheel, and a moment later, it folded in numerous, complex ways, reconstructing itself as a plane’s joystick. I gripped it tightly and yanked downwards as I’d always seen in the movies. I got no lift. Not enough speed
I was running out of room. A row of cars were rushing up, and I couldn’t maneuver between them with the wings extended. I looked up into the rearview mirror and saw the missile plowing through the air towards me, its target. Although I wasn’t an especially spiritual man, I silently prayed for a miracle.
“One…” The beep turned continuous, striking through me, reminding me of the heart monitor of a dead man
The jet engines exploded to life with a terrifying roar.
I was thrown against my seat by the force and had to struggle to keep my hands on the joystick as the raging flames propelled me forward. The line of cars raced towards me, and I knew I’d plow into them at any moment if I didn’t do anything
Then the car took off. It rose up and pointed its nose into the sky. The road and cars below rapidly disappeared from view and blended in with the rest of the city as I flew skywards.
In the rearview mirror, I saw the missile shoot by in a gray flash, its flaming propulsion system roaring in anger at its miss.
I hooted in triumph, the adrenaline pumping strong in my veins, and yelled, “You-Can’t-Touch-This!” I’d done it! I was alive! The feminine voice was silent as the red dot on the radar moved away. I’d won!
“Warning,” the car’s voice said as the red dot swooped around on the radar. “Missile type: Heat seeking. Suggestion: Initiate evasive action.”
“Persistent little…” I said before the beeping once again started. I leveled out the car so that I wasn’t rocketing into the sky and tried to look for the missile. It was off to my left and going in for the kill.
Not willing to give up after all I’d been through, I tried to loose it through a series of dips and weaves. It didn’t take long to realize, however, that I couldn’t outmaneuver it. It was computerized and would keep on going until it hit its target.
“A-are there any weapons on this thing?” I asked desperately. I was doing the best an untrained man could, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I needed to fight back.
“Answer: Yes. Please choose from the selection.”
The arm-rest screen went blank, but was soon replaced by five options, each a square outline with a picture of something within; one was a machine gun, another a net, then there was a firework of sorts, one was a puff of smoke, and the final selection was a rocket. I immediately hit the rocket selection.
The small square turned red and the voice said, “Rockets remaining: zero.”
I swore and dove sharply to the right to dodge the missile as it came in for a strike. I could hear its taunting roar cackling at my imminent death as it passed by. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could avoid a collision. I needed the upper hand gained from a weapon to live.
I looked back at the selections and immediately dismissed the smoke puff and net selections. That left the firework and the machine gun. I wasn’t so sure about the machine gun since I wasn’t very savvy with any form of gun, so, not sure what the firework was, I asked.
“Answer: Flare. A countermeasure device used against heat-seeking missiles.”
I couldn’t believe it. After all I’d gone through, the car had always had its own way to fight back against heat-seeking missiles. I laughed as I pressed the flair selection.
“Flares remaining: zero”
“You’re kidding me!” The missile rushed in from the side, so I went into a nose dive. The scene rushing up to me was no longer that of the city, but of the countryside, with rolling hills of golden farmland. I looked back and could see the flaming missile turning after me, leaving a trail of gray smoke in the pristine sky.
“What weapons do we actually have ammunition in?” I asked, fighting the urge to pull up for as long as I could.
“Answer: Smoke screen.”
“That’s not even funny.”
“Warning: Ground approaching.”
I pulled up as hard as I could. The force of coming out of such a nose-dive crushed into me. I cried out in pain as my vision speckled with black and my consciousness was compromised. But I somehow held on, knowing that if I fainted for even a moment, I would die. Ignoring my pain, I took back full control and continued to fight.
I couldn’t be more than twenty meters above the ground now. The long stocks of wheat sprouting from the ground were nearly ripped away as I shot by so close. The car’s shadow was flying parallel to me on top of the golden crop, and not far behind it was another shadow, one that was long and cylindrical. I needed a plan, and I needed one bad. Knowing I couldn’t rely on the car alone, I searched the landscape for anything that could serve as helpful. But there was nothing but the missile and me. There was absolutely nothing I could use, and I was beginning to wonder if it was really the end.
“You could have left the car,” I seethed, clenching the joystick until my knuckles went white. Going to jail was better than dieing. It was hopeless. For a moment, I gave up.
Then I saw it. The lake. Its water rippled on the horizon and glistened with sunlight. It had been left unnoticed from the sky, but why was it so important now? My memory wandered back to when I’d pressed the air selection to turn the car into a plane. Hadn’t one of the other choices been a sea selection?
It was then that a glimmer of hope was restored. Everything was built to function under the expected circumstances, but who would expect their missile to need to follow its target underwater? I was pretty sure submarines weren’t primary targets for heat-seeking missiles. For all I knew, though, I was completely wrong and the missile would act like a torpedo. But at that point, I didn’t care. Even if there was a chance it would work, I’d have to try. I just had to stay away from the missile until then. It would be close, but I could make it.
“Warning: Fuel low. Solution: Reducing speed to minimum to reserve fuel.”
It felt as if I’d just been slapped in the face. I watched the speedometer’s needle as it slowly made its counterclockwise arc. The lake was nearing, and there would be enough fuel to make it, but I knew the missile would catch me before that moment. Even now it was closing in. I had to keep moving. I needed speed.
“Don’t slow down!” I commanded. “We’re going to use up all the fuel in one last go!”
The voice was quiet for a moment and I thought it hadn’t worked. But then it said, “Command confirmed. Deactivating all limiters.”
The jet engines exploded with power, launching me though the air. I pulled up so that I was climbing into the sky at a slight angle. I looked back and saw the missile falling behind.
“When I say so, turn on the sea selection,” I said to the car. I was getting the hang of things, but I still wasn’t sure if my plan was going to work.
“Command confirmed. Standing by.”
I eyeballed the angle I was going at and the speed, trying to figure out when to cut the jet engines. The lake was a large target, but I still wasn’t sure if I could hit it. Doubt was pressing in again, and I had to fight to keep it at bay.
“Warning: Fuel extremely low.”
“I know, I know! Just wait!”
I checked the missile again. It was pretty far behind. There still was a chance.
“Warning: Fuel critical.”
“Shut up!” It wasn’t time yet. Just a bit more and I could cut the engine and let gravity and my leftover speed send me into the watery depths. There were no second chances, so there could be no mistakes. I just needed a bit more time.
“Warning: Fuel…”
I took my foot off the gas pedal. And the drop began.
A feeling of weightlessness came over me, and everything seemed unnaturally calm without the rumbling of the engine. All I could hear was the intense wind that enveloped the car as it fell towards the blue lake. I shuddered, wanting to close my eyes. But I didn’t. I needed to be ready.
The missile, as I’d suspected, was gaining quickly. Had I put enough distance between us, or was it going to catch up before I reached the lake? I turned away and tried to ignore it, although its roar was already reaching my ears.
I was almost there. The car was rumbling from the air resistance and my arms were heavy with fatigue from maintaining a constant angle. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.
“Warning: Missile approaching.”
I looked back to see it with my own eyes and was surprised by how close it had gotten. I tried the gas pedal to see if there was any gas left, but there wasn’t enough to get the jet engines started. I was so close. Just a bit more and…
“Do it now!”
Blue dots spread across the car and dashed around into the familiar circuit board-like pattern. I could see where in the lake I was going to hit. It was towards the center, where it was deepest. It would only be a few more seconds.
The car’s wings retracted, and the individual sections that had been divided by the light began to shift until the car sealed all openings and fortified itself for deep sea depths, or in this case, a collision.
The missile was nearly upon me when I hit the water.
My body was thrown forward against my seatbelt as the car hit the aquatic surface, the straps driving the air from my lungs. My head snapped forward into the suddenly present airbag, but despite the save, I could hardly breath. It was like a mute had been placed over the world, the loud, roaring wind replaced with faint bubbling. My breathing was the loudest thing I could hear, making me feel alone.
An explosion from behind thrust me back into my seat as it propelled the sub-car forward into the bubbling turmoil. The car tumbled and rolled through the water, and the windshield began to crack from the abuse. Everything started to go black as water began to trickle through the small cracks. I made a feeble attempt to stay awake. But I was just so tired.
“Jamison! Do you copy? Jamison!”
I moaned and reached for my aching head, but it stung to the touch.
“Jamison, is that you?”
I rubbed my eyes and looked around. “What the…” I was floating in the middle of a lake in a beat up car. The windshield had a spider web pattern of cracks all over, but it still somehow held fast. A deflated air bag rested on my lap. The sun appeared to be near setting, so I looked down at my watch. It was eight-forty.
Memory of what had happened rushed back and I realized the situation I was in. “I’m going to jail,” I groaned, leaning back in the seat. “But… I’m still alive.” A small smile crept upon my lips. That’s right. I was alive!
“Jamison?” came a scratchy voice with a British accent. “What do you mean you’re going to jail? What’s your situation?”
I looked around, confused, but found where the sound came from. It was the radio.
“I-I’m here,” I said hesitantly, putting on my best British accent.
“Hmm… You’re voice sounds a little off. Are you okay? Any injuries.”
“No… I’m fine.” I wasn’t sure at all where this was leading, but after what had happened, I didn’t care. It wasn’t like I could get in much more trouble.
“That’s good, very good. How is the car? You didn’t destroy another one, did you?”
I looked around at the pile of scrap metal around me. The interior was still mostly intact, but it had some water damage. Eh, what the heck. “Nope. Everything is perfect.”
“You’re sure? Because we just got a transmission about Copperfinger sending a missile to your location.”
“Uh-huh. I took care of it. You know me.”
There was a long pause. “Are you sure nothing is wrong? You sound nothing like…” He finally seemed to get it. “You’re not Jamison, are you.”
I ditched the phony accent. “Nope.”
For a few minutes, no one said anything. I sat there in my sodden seat, waiting.
“Who are you and what have you done with Jamison?” the voice inquired.
I’d been fighting long enough, and hiding my identity would only hurt the situation. “Nick Anderby. I borrowed the car for a bit.”
I heard a sigh of relief from the other end of the radio. The man cleared his throat to regain his composure. “Alright Nick, want to go to jail?”
“No…”
A small camera lens popped out of the center of the wheel and looked up at my face. I leaned towards it curiously.
“Then keep your mouth shut about this. You’ll be hearing from us soon.”
The camera flashed brightly, blinding me for a moment. In one slick movement, a small section of the roof above me flew off, and my seat began to rumble.
“No way,” I muttered.
My seat shot high up into the air, making me bite my tongue and crumble in my seat, and then it released a big, yellow parachute. After a few seconds of free fall, the parachute caught and I began to float back down towards the lake, where a huge explosion enveloped the car. I watched the flaming spectacle from above in awe as the wreckage sunk under the water’s surface.
After all that had happened, all I’d experienced and seen, there were no words that were worthy of the moment. Even so, I once again spoke the two that felt right.
“No… way.”
