(4:28 P.M.)
(October 28, 2008)
The víbora, viper ACR's naturally aspirated American V10 powerplant hummed at two thousand RPM as the car cruised at 70 mph on the US101. I had the windows down and the radio was playing Nickelback's newest album, Dark Horse. The throb of the powerful engine matched the beat of the current song, "Burn It to the Ground." It would become obvious later that this was a hint of what was about to happen.
I glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure I could change lanes, and when I did, I saw a Bentley sedan barreling towards me.
I got out of the way in a hurry, assuming at the first glance of the car that the driver was simply in a hurry.
I turned my head to watch the car speed por on my left, and something immediately jumped out at me; the driver wasn't watching the road ahead of him, he was looking behind him.
I turned to look behind me and saw a matte black Porsche Cayenne SUV coming up fast.
The Bentley had vanished into traffic por this point, and when the SUV screamed past on my right, I knew something was up. The driver had both hands on the wheel, as tu would need to to keep control of the car at his speed, but the other three occupants of the car seemed to be cradling weapons below the window. I caught a glimpse of the stock of one weapon and I knew that the Porsche was after the Bentley.
I dropped three gears on the Viper's six speed manual and stomped on the gas, careful not to stall the engine.
My speed increased rapidly, and now I could hear the distinct pops of gunfire. The snap on my funda was off and I pulled the hand gun, a Barretta M9, from it. I put it in my left hand, which I stuck out the window, and trained the barrel on the Porsche.
But before I could fire, the truck shifted, slamming it's left front tire into the right rear of the Bentley. I knew what he was trying to do.
It worked.
The Bentley spun sideways, the Porsche speeding off. I kept an eye on the sedan, waiting for it to stop gently before I took off after the Porsche.
That didn't happen.
The passenger side of the car slammed into one of those dividers that separates into the off ramp. It was going almost a hundred on impact and the hit flipped the car up onto the barricade, landed on its roof, then fell off onto the highway shoulder.
Cursing like the fighter pilot I was, I had no choice but to let the Porsche go.
I hauled up on the handbrake, spun the wheel, and shifted into first. The American muscle car pulled an almost perfect 180 and I sped back to the site of the Bently crash.
I stopped and got out, trying to make sure that everyone was okay.
The driver of the car was fine, but when I looked in the back, I saw a teenage girl of around 18 with blood on her camisa, camiseta and arm and a medium sized white dog, also covered in blood. Neither of them were moving.
There was a hospital four minutos down the road from the crash and a vet right siguiente door, so I bundled both of the passengers into the Viper, not caring if they got blood on the seats, and told the driver to stay put. I gave him my card and sped off.
I dropped the human at MLK first, then the dog at the vet and told both places to call me if anything happened.
Well, it turns out that the girl was the lead actress in an upcoming animated movie about a dog that got lost and the dog happened to be the dog from the movie. We stayed friends after that day, and whenever I needed them, they were there for me.
(October 28, 2008)
The víbora, viper ACR's naturally aspirated American V10 powerplant hummed at two thousand RPM as the car cruised at 70 mph on the US101. I had the windows down and the radio was playing Nickelback's newest album, Dark Horse. The throb of the powerful engine matched the beat of the current song, "Burn It to the Ground." It would become obvious later that this was a hint of what was about to happen.
I glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure I could change lanes, and when I did, I saw a Bentley sedan barreling towards me.
I got out of the way in a hurry, assuming at the first glance of the car that the driver was simply in a hurry.
I turned my head to watch the car speed por on my left, and something immediately jumped out at me; the driver wasn't watching the road ahead of him, he was looking behind him.
I turned to look behind me and saw a matte black Porsche Cayenne SUV coming up fast.
The Bentley had vanished into traffic por this point, and when the SUV screamed past on my right, I knew something was up. The driver had both hands on the wheel, as tu would need to to keep control of the car at his speed, but the other three occupants of the car seemed to be cradling weapons below the window. I caught a glimpse of the stock of one weapon and I knew that the Porsche was after the Bentley.
I dropped three gears on the Viper's six speed manual and stomped on the gas, careful not to stall the engine.
My speed increased rapidly, and now I could hear the distinct pops of gunfire. The snap on my funda was off and I pulled the hand gun, a Barretta M9, from it. I put it in my left hand, which I stuck out the window, and trained the barrel on the Porsche.
But before I could fire, the truck shifted, slamming it's left front tire into the right rear of the Bentley. I knew what he was trying to do.
It worked.
The Bentley spun sideways, the Porsche speeding off. I kept an eye on the sedan, waiting for it to stop gently before I took off after the Porsche.
That didn't happen.
The passenger side of the car slammed into one of those dividers that separates into the off ramp. It was going almost a hundred on impact and the hit flipped the car up onto the barricade, landed on its roof, then fell off onto the highway shoulder.
Cursing like the fighter pilot I was, I had no choice but to let the Porsche go.
I hauled up on the handbrake, spun the wheel, and shifted into first. The American muscle car pulled an almost perfect 180 and I sped back to the site of the Bently crash.
I stopped and got out, trying to make sure that everyone was okay.
The driver of the car was fine, but when I looked in the back, I saw a teenage girl of around 18 with blood on her camisa, camiseta and arm and a medium sized white dog, also covered in blood. Neither of them were moving.
There was a hospital four minutos down the road from the crash and a vet right siguiente door, so I bundled both of the passengers into the Viper, not caring if they got blood on the seats, and told the driver to stay put. I gave him my card and sped off.
I dropped the human at MLK first, then the dog at the vet and told both places to call me if anything happened.
Well, it turns out that the girl was the lead actress in an upcoming animated movie about a dog that got lost and the dog happened to be the dog from the movie. We stayed friends after that day, and whenever I needed them, they were there for me.
