I took a left and pulled into Mike’s automobile workshop.
A man's loud whistling rang out just as I got out. "Whoa! This is it?"
"This is her," I replied, and we both turned around to look at my matt black Lamborghini. I knew this would be the last time I would see her, but felt nothing. Which was strange when I remembered how excited I had been to purchase her. I guess, no luxury or lifestyle was worth the safety of my daughter.
"How much do you expect her to fetch?" I asked as I motioned to Anya to stay put, then walked with him.
"Quarter of a million," he replied. "I’ve been peddling the specs for the past few weeks and I have an Arab from Bahrain and a Chinese businessman interested.”
I nodded. "That's good."
"They were a bit suspicious as to why you're selling it so cheaply, but I explained that payment has to be in Bitcoin. That seemed to sit well."
"Alright," I replied. "I collect the Chevy now and leave the Lambo with you so you're free to complete the process."
"Cool," he said and we entered the workshop. He led to an old Chevy ready and waiting.
"She looks good," I nodded. "Did you polish her up?"
"Nope. You told me the rougher the better, but knowing you'd pick her up today, I ordered a wash. The scuffs are still there, but that’s just the way you want it, right?"
"Yes," I replied, amused by the disbelief and wonder that was still in his tone.
"Why anyone would dispose of a brand new Lamborghini and overhaul a 2004 Chevy Impala instead to become their primary mode of transport is beyond me."
"But with the upgrades you’ve done, it should be on par with the Lamborghini, right?" I asked.
He gave me a dry look. "I'm going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
I smiled. "Walk me through the specs again.”
He popped the hood open. "Upgraded camshaft for the output and airflow. Aftermarket headers, performance air filters, exhaust system, and the increased horsepower, of course. Turbocharger kit, upgraded to an automatic transmission of course, and—" he stepped back. "Upgraded rear to handle the increased torque. Stronger axles and adjustable coilovers. Larger brakes, brake pads, roll cage, high-flow exhaust system – the whole works."
I nodded. "So how fast can it go now?"
"Hmm ... 0-60 in about 4-5 seconds. Originally, she was limited to 130 miles per hour, but with the upgrade, she can go up to 150 miles per hour."
I nodded again. "I like that. It'll do."
"All that's left now is for you to test it."
"I’ll do that now."
He looked at me curiously. "You going far?"
"Hopefully," I replied, and he gave me a peculiar look. "Well, safe journey, and if there’s any problem you know where to find me."
I handed over the keys to my Lambo and he gave me the keys to the plainest Jane of cars, the Chevy Impala 1967.
"Anya," I called and it felt strange calling her that, but to my surprise, she immediately turned her head and looked at me. I motioned to her to come over. She hurried over, and in no time, we were headed back to my safety deposit boxes in Manhattan. I came out carrying two holdalls with our new identity; passports, bank accounts, credit cards. I stuffed them into the truck. From there we went to a small hotel at the edge of the city.
Chapter 19
Cole
“Wow, Dad, you're unrecognizable!”
I turned around to see my daughter walking in from the bathroom, all dressed and ready.