Hard and Fast

by Raven Scott

  He gently righted her lace panties, helped her sit up, then lifted her off the surface from around the waist. They stood close in a loose embrace for a few moments. Lucas used a finger to lift her chin. Her hair and face looked deliciously mussed.

  “Go take a shower,” he suggested softly, feeling an unexpected affection. “We’ll get going whenever you’re ready.”

  Alex nodded, then sauntered off into the bathroom. Lucas took a deep breath, while removing the used condom and using tissues from the desk to do a quick cleanup. He was straightening his clothes when his phone beeped repeatedly, indicating an urgent call from Fortis.

  “What’s happening?” he demanded when he answered.

  Immediately, Lucas heard the sound of emergency sirens in the background.

  “There’s been a fire in the auto shop,” Michael stated in serious voice. “The motor’s been completely destroyed.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Alex spent an inordinate amount of time under the hot spray of the shower. She felt fantastic. While her heart rate was back to normal, the memory of the experience alone made her body feel flushed with exhilaration. Like after she had gone zip-lining, or whitewater rafting, or rode a ridiculously fast roller coaster.

  She smiled to herself, letting the water pound on her back long after the luxurious bubbles from the spa-quality bath gel had rinsed away. But eventually, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower to towel off. There was only so long she could put off facing Lucas again.

  That was one of the problems with casual, toe-curling sex with a business associate. Once the moment was over, no matter how good it was—and it was beyond good—you had to maintain a professional relationship. Alex wasn’t certain if Lucas fell into that category. They didn’t really work together, and she wasn’t exactly his client. But, for however long he was going to be in town working for Magnus, things between them needed to be uncomplicated, un-distracting.

  In her sex-induced fog, Alex hadn’t brought any extra clothes with her into the bathroom. But her toiletry bag was still on the counter from that morning. She generously applied face and body lotions, then wrapped herself in one of the oversize bathrobes hanging on the back of the door. It still took her a few moments to ready herself for her next encounter with Lucas.

  Would he be the easygoing, flirty man she had first met in the hotel restaurant? Or the man who had returned from his trip during the week: intense, controlling, and unreadable? Which would she prefer? Alex looked at herself in the mirror, wondering why it was the latter version of Lucas Johnson that had prompted her to drop her pants. Literally.

  Eventually, she opened the door and walked back into the large hotel room. Whatever she had anticipated, it wasn’t to find Lucas with Lance, one of the other Fortis men, huddled in front of Lucas’s laptop, intently watching a video. They both turned to look at her, twin expressions of fierce determination on their faces. Alex pulled the edges of the robe a little closer at the neck, and walked hesitantly toward them. Something was obviously wrong, and she was immediately filled with apprehension.

  Lance looked down, but Lucas’s eyes never wavered from hers.

  “What?” she finally demanded.

  “There’s been a fire,” Lucas stated. “In the auto shop.”

  Alex’s heart started beating frantically.

  “What? What happened? Did anyone get hurt?” she fired back, staring back and forth between the two men.

  “No,” Lance confirmed. “Looks like it started sometime after about two thirty when the mechanics had locked up and gone home.”

  “How is that possible?” she questioned, feeling some relief. “Things don’t catch on fire on their own. What happened?”

  “Alex,” Lucas began, his jaw hard and his hand shoved into the front pockets of his slacks. “The fire was in the race car. The one with the Cicada.”

  She looked back at him, eyes wide and unblinking while her brain tried to register his words.

  “From what we can tell, your motor has been destroyed,” he finished.

  “Wait!” she shouted, waving her hands back and forth as though to stop any other words. “That doesn’t make any sense! How does a motor catch on fire by itself? Was Dale’s team doing some of the repairs to the body panels? Did someone screw up with the blowtorch? They’re supposed to drain the ethanol fuel first—!”

  “Alex,” Lucas stated firmly, stepping close to her. “There was no one working on the car. The shop was already closed when it happened.”

  His expression was stoic, but his eyes were soft with compassion.

  “Then . . . how?” she questioned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Lucas, we have the team set up,” said Lance from where he stood in front of the couch.

  Lucas turned from her to walk over to where the other agent was standing. She followed them, crossing her arms at her chest. They had connected a laptop computer to the flat-screen television to show a video image. Alex could see it was from the inside of the Magnus shop, and probably from one of the new surveillance camera feeds. The scene was chaotic, with a fire crew still working on the charred, smoking metal shell of what used to be a high-performance race car.

  Heart beating with a mix of shock and dread, Alex covered her mouth with both hands while her eyes remained wide and fixed on the television.

  “Ned,” Lucas stated into the speaker of his cell phone lying on the console table. “Show us the footage you mentioned, from before the shop closed.”

  “Yup,” said the voice through the phone. “The time stamp is one forty-two. You’ll see two men talking to one of the mechanics near the yellow Ferrari. Then one of them walks away casually and stoops down to look inside the passenger window of the Mitsubishi.”

  Lucas, Lance, and Alex watched the scene play out as Ned described. Both men leaned forward. Alex didn’t understand what they were looking for or what it would have to do with a fire that started at least a couple of hours later, according to what Lucas had told her.

  “Replay it again,” instructed Lucas. “Pause it there.”

  As requested, the pixilated surveillance video was frozen at the point that one of the men had lowered himself behind the race car, appearing to check out the inside.

  “Alex,” Lucas stated in a soft voice. “What car parts would be located where that guy is positioned?”

  She looked back at him, her brain sluggish with shock.

  “What mechanics would that guy be able reach from that spot?” he repeated patiently. “The gas line, maybe the batteries for the electric motor?”

  “No, neither,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “That’s all at the rear of the car. He’s in front of the passenger door, so he could reach the tire, the rotor brakes, and calipers through the rims.”

  “What else?” Lucas probed, looking back at her intently. “Anything underneath the car?”

  “There’s the electrical wiring, connecting the motor to the control modules,” Alex immediately confirmed. “But the conduit runs through the center of the floor. I’m not sure he could reach it from the position he’s in. I think he’d have to be lower. But the brake line is closer. It extends from the front axle, along the right side of the floor, about three inches in from the frame.”

  “The brake fluid,” muttered Lance, as though it made sense. “He punctured the line to create a slow leak.”

  The two men looked at each other.

  “Ned, did you hear that?” Lucas asked louder. “Go back to the live feed and get Michael to check for a combustible near where the unknown suspect was bent down.”

  “You got it, boss,” Ned answered. “The fire marshal has just arrived, so it’s good timing.”

  The image on the television switched back to the current activity in the shop. It was less chaotic, with only a couple of firemen who were packing up the hose and other equipment. Alex watched as a Fortis agent, Michael, walked into camera view, followed closely by a shorter man in a bright canary yellow
uniform and helmet. They stopped beside the wet, blackened body of the car and started to look around with flashlights at the area Ned had specified.

  “What are they trying to find?” Alex finally asked after a few moments.

  “Chlorine,” replied Lucas with his focus fixed on the television and the slow, meticulous search underway. Michael and the fire marshal were both bent low, inspecting everything within a small radius of the car, factoring in trajectory from the hard water pressure of the fire hose.

  “Lucas, Mr. Passante has arrived,” Ned interrupted from the speakerphone. “I gave him a full update over the phone before I called you.”

  Alex watched her boss jog across the shop floor then come to an abrupt stop a few feet away from the car with both hands clasped on top of his head. He looked down at the sodden floor, then back at the destroyed race car. She could practically feel his horror and disbelief since it must echo her own.

  “Let him know we’ll have a debriefing with him as soon as the marshal’s finished the inspection,” Lucas instructed to Ned.

  About five minutes later, the fire marshal pointed his flashlight into a spot between a pile of miscellaneous automotive parts lined against the wall next to the Mitsubishi. Then, he pulled out a container and tweezers from his jacket to carefully collect whatever he had found. Michael quickly joined him to look at the particles. The Fortis agent took out his cell phone and dialed a contact. Lucas’s phone rang with a second caller, and he conferenced Michael into the discussion with Ned.

  “What is it?” Lucas asked, still watching the live feed.

  “Scraps from some sort of fabric” Michael immediately replied. “There are scorch marks under the car, right where the unknown suspect had stopped, so the fire marshal thinks the fragments are part of the accelerant, maybe a bag or something it was contained in.”

  “Was it chlorine?” Lance asked.

  “We can’t be sure until the marshal’s office tests everything and inspects the car,” Michael explained. “But I’d say it’s pretty likely. My guess is that they punctured the brake line with a small hole, creating a slow dripping leak. Then, if he placed chlorine disks under the drip, it would set up a time delay for an explosive fire. The right combination could buy a couple of hours, easy. Add another combustible fluid, like gasoline or ethanol, and the fire would burn long enough to ignite the car.”

  “Oh my God!” Alex groaned.

  It wasn’t an accident or carelessness. The Fortis agents believe someone had walked into Magnus and deliberately set the Mitsubishi on fire, completely destroying the Cicada motor inside.

  “Boys, we need to reevaluate our plan for this mission. I’m going to get Sam and Evan on the line to look at our options. Michael, let Marco know we’ll meet with him in thirty minutes,” Lucas instructed. “In the meantime, let’s provide the fire department with everything they need, except the footage of our suspects. We need to identify and locate them first. Ned, can you get Raymond working on it with the facial-mapping program?”

  “You got it, boss,” Ned replied before both agents disconnected their phone lines.

  “Alex, why don’t you go and get dressed?” Lucas suggested in a quiet voice.

  She looked back at him, then down at the white robe. Was it only a few minutes since she had stepped out of the shower, still feeling the afterglow of their intimacy?

  Alex nodded, finding her throat too clogged to speak. As she walked across the hotel room, she heard her cell phone ringing from the inside of her purse that lay on the bed. She took the mobile out and found Marco’s number on the video call display.

  “Where are you?” he asked right away. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Alex replied in a whisper. “I’m still at the hotel, with Lucas Johnson and one of his agents.”

  “Shit, Alex! They’ve destroyed the car,” he groaned with defeat. “It’s gone.”

  Alex pressed the heel of one palm into her eyes, wishing this was just a nightmare and she’d wake up soon.

  “I know,” she finally stated. “I can’t believe it, Marco. We need to be in Vancouver in six weeks to start the track trials. That’s not enough time to rebuild it.”

  “Alex, there’s no rebuilding, not for the Sea-to-Sky race. It’s gone,” he repeated. “Completely destroyed. Even if you could rebuild the components, we still wouldn’t have a battery. You said it was a one-of-kind prototype that took Adam North months to make—”

  “But—”

  “It’s over, Alex. We’re done,” Marco continued talking over her.

  “Marco, listen to me,” she insisted, raising her voice. “It’s not over. I have the battery.”

  There was a long pause.

  “What? What do you mean?” he demanded.

  Alex looked over at Lucas and Lance who were working quickly and efficiently to set something up with the laptop.

  “One second,” she added, then grabbed her travel bag and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

  “Marco?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m still here,” he confirmed, sounding impatient. “What do you mean you have the battery? Where?”

  “I had picked up a new power converter on Thursday, so I took Adam’s battery out of the Evo to connect them and create test models,” Alex explained, her heart pounding harder and harder. “It’s still in my office, locked in my drawer.”

  “Holy shit, Alex!” There was another long pause. “Does anyone else know that?”

  Alex looked down at the marble bath tiles, thinking of everything that had happened over the last couple of days.

  “I don’t think so,” she finally replied with a deep sigh. “I didn’t tell anyone. The guys were researching modifications to the other components, but we weren’t planning on implementing them until the repairs were done to the Evo.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’m meeting with Fortis in a few minutes. Maybe we can figure something out.”

  “I don’t know, Marco. Even with the battery, we still only have six weeks. I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “Don’t worry about it for now. Let’s see what Lucas and his team recommend, then we’ll figure out what to do. Okay?” Marco assured her.

  Alex nodded, biting her lip with apprehension, forgetting that he couldn’t see her through the phone.

  “Alex?”

  “Okay,” she finally replied.

  They hung up the call, and Alex looked into the bathroom mirror as she tried to stay calm.

  CHAPTER 13

  In under five minutes, Lucas had both his Fortis partners on a three-way video call. At three fifteen on Saturday afternoon, Evan DaCosta and Samuel Mackenzie both were at home. Lucas quickly gave them a summary of the new developments on the Magnus Motorsports mission.

  “How bad is the property damage?” asked Samuel with a deep, rich voice and a cultured Scottish accent.

  “The fire alarm went off pretty quickly. Ned attacked it with an industrial-size fire extinguisher within two to three minutes after that to contain it. So far, other than superficial water and smoke damage to the area, looks like only the race car was damaged.”

  “Brake fluid and chlorine,” Evan mused. “Pretty low-tech, household stuff, Lucas. High school chemistry one-oh-one.”

  “Exactly,” Lucas agreed. “Based on the surveillance video, these guys walked in as customers, no evidence that they were carrying anything suspicious. Whatever they used was small and easily concealable. Based on what Michael and the marshal found, I’d say it was a few pucks of generic pool chorine, coupled with a highly flammable liquid to ensure it spread fast enough to do the damage needed.”

  Sam blew out a deep breath. As a former British Secret Service MI5 agent for over ten years, he had a lot of experience with all forms of creative threats.

  “This changes the mission significantly, Lucas,” concluded Sam. “Whoever’s behind all this isn’t just trying to steal the design and technology, they want to shut down the Magnus project altogether.
”

  Lucas and Evan nodded.

  “And their behavior is escalating in their attempt to do that,” Evan added.

  Lucas glanced over at Lance who was standing beside him, looking just as serious as the rest of them.

  “To what end, though?” Lucas finally asked, though it was a question reflected on all their faces. “Are they trying to stop Magnus from being first to market by stealing the tech for their own future release? Or bury it completely?”

  Evan sat forward in his chair from the living room of his apartment in Alexandria.

  “Based on Raymond’s research on the big car manufacturers, they all have electric or hybrid models on the market now. And there’s dozens of concept models making the car show rounds this year that promise results similar to what Alex Cotts has designed,” Evan argued. “So, this isn’t like the Avro Arrow in 1959. Shutting down the Magnus project isn’t going to hinder the advancement of electric car technology in any significant way.”

  “That’s assuming it’s one of the oil companies behind this, right?” Sam threw in. “They ultimately have the most to lose.”

  “I looked through Raymond’s file last night,” Lucas explained. “And I wouldn’t rule out oil and gas. None of the designs solve the cost problem. All of the car companies still use battery technology that is expansive and motors that lack real power. Which means that electric and hybrid cars are really only targeting the eco-conscious Prius buyer, at least for another three to five years.”

  “Or the rich one-percenters that can afford both an Aston Martin and a Tesla,” Sam added dryly.

  Lucas chuckled. And since Evan owned both cars, though the Tesla was really for his girlfriend, Nia, he gave the Scotsman the middle finger in protest.

  “You should try entering the twenty-first century Mac. Maybe upgrade that boat you drive into something more responsible,” Evan shot back.

  “It’s a Jaguar XKR-S, my friend. There is no other upgrade,” Sam replied sardonically, showing a rare flash of teeth in a big smile.

  “Okay, boys, settle down,” interrupted Lucas, though he appreciated the moment of levity from the serious situation they were facing with Magnus and Alex Cotts.