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

Kane looked over his shoulder to the stern and saw that Reg had donned his communications headset. He looked like an old-style telephone operator except that the headset was state-of-the-art.

“When do we get this bloody show on the road?” Kane asked, staring through the canopy at Reg.

“Ready when you are, skipper.” Reg closed the canopies and gave the thumbs-up sign. He clambered across the stern of the boat and climbed back onto the slipway.

“Switch on.” Morweena nodded towards the ignition block. “And try not to come in your pants. We’ve got a full morning’s work ahead of us.”

“You’re some ball-breaker.” Kane flicked the switch and the engines immediately roared into life. The noise was already deafening. From now on he and his throttleman would communicate through the headsets in their helmets.

“Good God!” Doc stood on the slipway listening to the roar of the engines. “Lucky bastard,” he muttered as he watched the two figures beneath the canopy.

She hadn’t been joking, Kane thought. He might have already come in his pants but he wasn’t about to check it out. He really didn’t want to think what might happen to his bodily functions once the boat was motoring across the bay. Back at the Yard, he was known as the man who never flapped no matter how hot the situation. If only they could see him now.

“Let’s get strapped in,” she said, aware of the tremor in her voice.

As soon as they were secured in their belts, she engaged the drive and eased up the throttle. Kane pointed the helm away from the slipway and the Karnow moved smoothly into the choppy waters of Falmouth Bay.

David watched as the sleek black powerboat surged towards the centre of the bay. He looked to where Reg and Doc were standing. Both men gave him the thumbs up. He returned his gaze to the magnificent boat powering away from him. If it were to be his last throw of the dice, it would be a magnificent one. Something that even the grim-faced ancestors on his office wall might be proud of.

It was only the start of the second practice run and already Kane felt that all his insides had spent at least ten minutes in a blender. His knees ached from the continual buffeting they were receiving as the boat thrashed its way through the swell. He brought it around to line up on the buoy Reg had set in the bay the previous day. The course laid down by the mechanic was approximately seven nautical miles, so each circuit between the two buoys was taking around sixteen minutes. They had gone up to eighty knots during one of the runs and that was as much as Kane felt he could safely handle. Every fibre of his being had been forced into the most intense concentration he had ever known. Although the race between the buoys had only taken a matter of minutes, it had seemed like hours to him. He couldn’t believe that time could be so drawn out. By the time he’d completed the third run, the adrenaline was in full flow and every nerve end was tingling with excitement. So far it hadn’t bettered the best sex he’d ever had but it was a close second. It certainly whipped the ass off every other thrill he’d experienced. And he had experienced some thrills. Of course, he wasn’t about to admit that to his throttleman. When Morweena had finally throttled back and the boat had slowed, every muscle in his body involuntarily relaxed. He didn’t want to think about maintaining that level of physical and mental concentration for more than two hours. That was certainly beyond his current capacity. David had a point. There was no way that he would be ready to race in five weeks.

“I think this time we’ll give it a little more throttle?” Morweena said into her microphone. “What do you think, Dad.”

“I don’t want to push it on your first outing,” David said. “But it’s your call. Just don’t overdo it.”

More throttle. An extra jolt of adrenaline coursed around his body. He didn’t think it was possible that the boat could surpass the speed they’d already done. He took a deep breath filling his nostrils and lungs with the ozone-laden sea air which was filtered into the cockpit. Suddenly he felt more alive than at any moment in his life. He steadied the boat and pointed the bow at the buoy directly ahead.

“Maybe this time we’ll try rounding the buoy at the other end and finish back here,” he shouted.

Morweena smiled. “Getting confident, are we?” She engaged the drive and jerked up sharply on the throttle bar.

The boat took off like a rocket, throwing Kane back against the rear of the cocoon. He fought to control the boat and bring it back on a line with the buoy. The bow was striking the waves at a tremendous pace causing the hull to buck up and down before launching itself through the air as it scythed directly over a wave. When Kane had managed to steady the wheel, he glanced at his throttleman. Her tanned face was set as she maintained her concentration on the dials in front of her. She looked neither ahead nor to the right or left. She was a consummate professional. The speed gradually increased and Kane had the impression that they were spending more time out of the water than in it. The impact of the boat on the water jarred his legs and knees and sent shudders along his arms. The throttle was nearly three-quarters open and Kane’s concentration was total. The waters of Falmouth Bay rushed beneath them as Morweena worked the throttle in anticipation of the boat leaping from the water. She eased off the throttle as they approached the buoy and Kane struggled with the helm in order to execute a perfect speed turn. Morweena gave him a thumbs-up sign and opened the