Crash Course by Derek Fee (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📕

own in any conversation on the subject. But he still had not put his foot into the mighty boat itself.

“By God,” Doc said as they strode through the yard. “I envy you. I’d give anything to sit behind the wheel of that boat. And they’ll pay you to do it. There’s no justice. Most people would give their eye teeth for a chance to drive that boat.”

Kane looked ahead to the small group of people assembled at the edge of the slipway, noticing David resplendent in an orange boiler suit.

“It’s part of the job, Doc.” Kane strode on in the direction of the group. He hoped that Doc wasn’t good at reading him. Because then he would know what a liar he was. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t feel excited at the thought of two thousand horsepower purring underneath him.

“I wouldn’t overdo the Cool Hand Luke bit if I were you,”

Kane looked at his new partner. There was a hell of a lot more to Doc Watson than met the eye.

“Ah,” David said. “The remainder of our crew, the good Misters Kane and Watson. Fresh and ready for another day of fun and games.” He turned to Doc. “Be a good chap and get cracking with Reg and Bill on those engines.” He nodded towards the boat which sat in the water beneath the slipway. “I want her ready to run in half an hour.”

Doc immediately pulled on the boiler suit which Reg tossed him and the three mechanics climbed onto the Kevlar hull.

The powerboat sat bobbing in the calm waters of the slipway. Kane stared at the powerful machine. It was getting easier to understand David’s reservations in handing over such a beautiful boat to a complete amateur. He felt the adrenalin circulating in his body. In his mind he could already feel his hands on the controls and he hoped it would feel natural and good.

“Magnificent, isn’t she?” David said. “The mechanics spent the last twenty-four hours on the final checks. If I do say so myself, it’s a superb design topped off with the highest quality precision machined components.” He watched the mechanics raise the canopy which covered the engines. “The engines are out of this world, truly a thing of beauty and the boat is the future of the Penhalion boatyard. I hope you’re aware of the singular honour you are being afforded in piloting this awesome machine. Most of the drivers on the circuit would sell their sisters to drive that boat. And we’re lucky enough to have you.”

“It’s a beautiful machine,” Kane said. “And if you do your job properly then so will I and we’ll have nothing to worry about.”

The good humour faded from David’s face.

“Good morning.” Morweena appeared on the slipway dressed in a similar overall to her father. The legend ‘Team Penhalion’ had been stencilled in black on the back of the orange suits while the front was obliterated by badges advertising various motor products.

“Good morning.” Kane turned and looked at her. There had been a lot of bad press about undercover officers and sexual relations. He knew the dangers and he would do his best to avoid entanglements but she was one hell of a good-looking woman and all things being equal he would have been happy to make a play for her. But this was business. “And aren’t we all dressed up. I hope the execution equals the attire.”

“Your gear.” She tossed an orange overall to him. “We didn’t know your size but it should fit. I have a selection of helmets because I wasn’t sure of your head size. The largest might be a good fit. I take it that you’re not really a morning person.”

“He’s not an anytime kind of person if you want my opinion,” David chimed in.

“What you see is what you get.” Kane caught the orange overalls and the helmet. He held the garment directly in front of him. “Very fetching. Boat designed by Penhalion: overall by Giorgio Armani. Maybe it’d work out better if it was the other way around.” He bared his teeth in a fake smile.

“I should remind you,” David said, “that you are here to perform a specific task, to drive a rather complicated piece of machinery. However, it would be beneficial if in learning to do so you could also try to keep a civil tongue in your mouth.”

“Like you said, I signed on to drive a boat. I didn’t enter a popularity contest. If you want a friend, I suggest you buy a dog. In the meantime, let’s get to business. Did Miss Penhalion sign on to look pretty or can she really handle the throttle on that machine?”

“Perhaps you have not yet been informed,” Morweena’s voice was curt. “I’ve already had a full season of powerboat racing which is a hell of a lot more experience than you can boast and I happen to have studied with Bobby Moore who invented the whole concept of the throttleman. I’m sure this brash character of yours might have been wonderful in the army or wherever it is you’ve spent the last decade or so but handling a powerful boat requires more than a little skill and talent. Neither of which we are convinced you possess. So I suggest you shelve your attitude until you’re behind the wheel in an actual race. At that point, you can exhibit all the pent-up aggression that you can manage.”

“Isn’t there some kind of medicine you girls can take when your hormones are acting up?” Kane turned his back and marched off the slipway in the direction of the galvanised iron shed.

“Modesty? I thought macho types loved to show off the body beautiful,” she said and smiled.

Kane looked over his shoulder. “When you dress in the open, so will I.”

“I’ll throttle the bastard,” David said as Kane disappeared into the shed.

“I wouldn’t advise it, Daddy.” Morweena kept her gaze on the shed. “I have the distinct feeling that our new pilot is