Need for Speed Read Online Free PDF

impressive boast, however, which is why the others in the Marshall Motors crew had their doubts about it.
    Apaches were the most powerful combat helicopters in the world. An Apache was like a tank with a rotor spinning on top. They could carry hundreds of pounds of bombs, missiles, or rockets. Each was also equipped with a massive gun, a weapon that could put some serious hurt on just about anything. An Apache could definitely ruin your day if you were on the wrong end of its weapons.
    But it was not just what they were packing that made Apaches so fierce. The copter could fly nearly 200 mph, could do loops (rare for any helicopter), could stay aloft for hours, and in general could mimic a lot of maneuvers jet fighters were famous for doing. Only the cream of the army aviation’s crop were qualified to fly them.
    Again, while he was a great guy, Benny was known to exaggerate, and since he’d come back from the military, his tall tales seemed to have grown even taller. This was why his buds were skeptical about his claim to have gone joyriding in an Apache.
    â€œI know that’s what you said,” Joe Peck told him now. “It’s just that I don’t believe you.”
    Benny’s exasperation came through loud and clear. “Just because I was a copter crew chief, that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to fly a chopper,” he said.
    â€œAll right, Liar One,” Joe Peck said, emphasizing the last two words. “Whatever you say. Now, please, what’s the status?”
    Benny
was
full of dubious claims, but at least one of them was true. He
could
fly an airplane. That’s where he was now. Inside a Cessna Skyhawk, flying above the proposed racecourse.
    While the Cessna Skyhawk was definitely not an Apache, it did take some skill to fly one. It had a big engine, could fly more than 150 mph, and at more than three miles high. While the Cessna was among the most popular airplanes ever built, only a pilot who knew what he was doing could fly one safely at night.
    Benny looked out over the controls of the Cessna, studying a small TV screen showing a night-vison view of the racecourse below. The race would be run on public streets, but the course itself wasn’t strictly about driving fast on straightaways. Almost half of the course would take the drivers down some of Mount Kisco’s narrowest back alleys and side streets; places with lots of sharp corners and tight turns. How to get through this rat’s maze quickly was part of the overall strategy—and danger—of the event.
    Benny’s job up here was to be on the lookout for the police, or civilian cars, or any kind of vehicle that might get in the way of the race. This was critical, as the speed of the cars involved might go as high as 140 mph.
    â€œIt’s looking good,” Benny finally reported. “Looks like most of Mount Kisco has gone to bed.”
    â€œOkay, Liar One,” Joe Peck responded.
    â€œHey, you got a death wish, Pecker?” Benny yelled at him. “My call sign is ‘Maverick.’ Got it? Call me Maverick, or—”
    â€œOr what?” Joe asked, laughing.
    â€œOr I’ll kamikaze this bird right into your nut sack,” Benny replied.
    * * *
    The start of the race was just minutes away.
    Back at the drive-in, Tobey pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and counted it quickly.
    One thousand dollars. This was a lot of money for him. The mortgage on the garage. Providing paychecks for his crew. Ordering supplies and car parts. Keeping the electricity on. The thousand dollars might have been put to better use.
    But Tobey had suddenly found himself in survivor mode. Just seconds before his father died, Tobey had promised him he’d do anything and everything to keep Marshall Motors going. And so, desperate times called for desperate measures. He knew it was time for him to put his skills as a driver to better use than just getting a rush at 150 mph. He knew