Red Rover
Posted: Wed Dec 15, 2021 11:14 am
And as a holiday offering to stimulate the masses:
"Red Rover" is an excerpt from an upcoming novel from the Usual Suspects.
Al, as is his bent when possible, has taken in apprentices for a Summer of hands-on instruction and immersion in engineering - specifically the hands-on dirty bits of designing, building and repairing things. Two of the three he has in-house are featured in this piece - and they're detailed below.
The first - Pamela by name - is a young Centaur lass from England and in Uni there to follow in her father's footsteps as the head of the engineering firm he founded. Other than being at University, this is her first time so far away from home and hearth and she's enjoying it greatly.
The other - Beth - is much the opposite, Steadfast, unyielding, driven and as foul-mouthed as it gets she's a Midwest girl who knows her mind and works hard to get what she's after. Her presence here is entirely serendipitous - but this is for the full work.
The rest are here as well - all of the Usual Suspects to be found around RE and the Mage Squad as this is directly in the time of "Aluminium Angel" - when Sterling and Arania were building the Pink Rover.
NOTE: All photos copyright me...
CHAPTER 1
Arania’s phone rang, a constant in her busy day. Tapping her headset she spoke, her voice pleasantly professional.
“Richer Engineering, Arania Wardoff speaking…Oh, Great!....Yes, unload it and I’ll send someone out to sign for it. Thanks!” Hanging up, she dialed again, connecting in moments.
“John, it’s Ari. Yes, I know you have Caller ID on that thing, don’t sass me….Oh, very well.
“I need you to go out to the Chesnut Road entrance – there’s a car transporter unloading a customer’s vehicle. Can you go fetch it in, please?...Good…
“Drop it in Bay 4 – this is going to be one for the interns… Yes, and YOU get to supervise them… Yes, I know. I don’t want to hear it. You knew the job was dangerous when you took it.” The smile on her face belied the growl in her voice, and both were audible to the elderly mechanic.
Minutes later the vehicle door opened and a low thrum of power idled into the shop. Proceeding at a very slow walk, the Range Rover Sport clanked, rattled and made ominous crunching noises as it slowly found its way to the bay.
Figuratively and literally the car was filthy. The grime of inactivity covered it as did the road film of a long trip on the car transporter. The interior, while empty was dusty, the stains of hands and feet soiling the white interior and the rubber mats on the floor.
Stopping and shutting the car down, John stepped out, shaking his head at the condition of the vehicle. As he did Blossom, attracted by the noise, entered the bay.
“OOOOOoooo, pretty. Breath of home, this is. Range Rover Sport – Supercharged?”
John nodded. “Sounds great, but you wouldn’t know it to hear it move. The old girl’s hurting – the brakes are triple pump, the dashboard is a pinball machine of lights and warnings, and it’s just not happy.
“Rumor has it you and your little partner in crime are going to get to clean this one up.”
“Oh, DO tell. The foul-mouthed one and I are going to get trusted with a hundred-thousand dollar car?”
“Sad to say the old girl’s long past that. The sale paperwork was on the seat – and she went for less than 10% of that.”
“Why? She needs help, but she’s not that bad.”
“The help is why. Hang on, let’s not go over this twice. Go talk to Mr. Smokey and fetch Beth, and let’s go over what you’ll be doing.
Blossom wandered across the shop. Here the music was louder and the clank of tools in use was also audible.
Smokey and Beth were under the bonnet of an elderly Rolls-Royce, the wing padded with blankets to prevent any chance of damage to the car.
“Naow, how did y’all put the plugs in?”
“Exactly the way you told me to. Hand-threaded to contact, then torqued to 15 foot-pounds because the threads were lubricated. Reset the wires to each one as I went so no chance of mixing up the wires.”
Smokey leaned back out of the engine compartment. “Good. Light ‘er up.”
Beth slid into the driver’s seat after removing her latex gloves, and a second later the big V8 cranked and purred. A touch of the accelerator produced a glissando of revving, and the car settled back to a quiet idle.
“Sounds good. Y’all can get on the wires and points after this, then we can send her home.”
Pam interrupted “Mr. Smokey, I need to borrow Beth for a while. Mr. MacDonald has a project for us.”
“Oh, that Range Rover showed up? Y’all’re gonna have a good time with that one – Ah hear it’s a mess.”
Pam grimaced. “Yes, Mr. MacDonald says it is. However, needs must, and Beth and I are here to learn.”
Smokey turned to Beth, who’d been listening attentively after shutting the Rolls down. “Beth, y’all’re gonna be workin’ with Mr. MacDonald for a bit. Naow, you go on with Blossom and git at it. When he’s done with ya come on back. Guess I gotta go back to work – lost mah minion.“ He grinned and made a shooing motion with his hands. “Git on, now. And be careful, the both of ya.”
As they left Beth turned to Blossom eagerly. “So, what is it? Spill!” she said, making ‘gimme’ motions with her hands.
“It is a Range Rover Sport – the new style body. Not new – it’s got some time on it. From what Mr. MacDonald was saying the underpinnings are SHOT – sounds like a bag of nails when it’s on the move.
“However, it has its virtues – one of them being a 450-horsepower supercharged engine that must be LOVELY when it’s on song.”
“OOOOOooo…” They rounded the corner and Beth got her first look at it.
“Oh my GOD…it’s a rolling whorehouse.” Blossom barked with laughter, both at the totally immoderate but accurate comment and the shock of dealing with Beth’s lack of brain to mouth filter.
“You are right. That it most certainly is.” However déclassé the comment was, it certainly was not inaccurate. In brilliant Rimini Red metallic paint with a white interior, the car had the atmosphere of an aging madam, her defects covered by the road grime and storage dust she wore.
“Fuck, Blossom – this thing’s a mess. It looks like shit.”
“Yes, Beth, and this is where you and Blossom come in.” The firm voice behind them made them turn and there stood Ari, tablet in hand.
“This needs to be put in order ASAP, inside and out.
“The car sat for a little under a year before being sold to its new owner, and it was badly broken before it ended up being abandoned to the weeds. The brakes are completely gone, there is at least one very defective front hub and the rest of the suspension needs to be gone over with a fine-tooth comb and checked for issues.
“It also needs an underbonnet check of all of the fluids and perishables, and an oil change.
“Also, we’ll need to hook up the LR diagnostic system to it and check all the errors it’s reporting. Not all of them – we hope – are real, and may have been caused by the battery going dead while it was stored.”
Ari looked at them directly. “YOU TWO are going to do the work, and the diagnostic work as well. Mr. MacDonald is going to supervise you, and any specialty questions will be referred to you-know-who, who if he needs to will probably call the factory and beat the information out of one of his friends there. Any questions?”
Beth raised her hand. Ari sighed, and laughed. “Beth…of course.” Ari laughed again and dropped the stern manner. “What do you want to know?”
“You told us the what – what you didn’t tell us was the why. What fucking idiot treated a beautiful lady like this – and what’s up for it now?”
Ari laughed again. “This one’s a soap opera. Why don’t you two get started on this thing with Mr. MacDonald, and I’ll get Al to send out for pizzas for lunch and he can tell you all about it.”
“Sounds great. I knew there HAD to be a story to this.”
"Red Rover" is an excerpt from an upcoming novel from the Usual Suspects.
Al, as is his bent when possible, has taken in apprentices for a Summer of hands-on instruction and immersion in engineering - specifically the hands-on dirty bits of designing, building and repairing things. Two of the three he has in-house are featured in this piece - and they're detailed below.
The first - Pamela by name - is a young Centaur lass from England and in Uni there to follow in her father's footsteps as the head of the engineering firm he founded. Other than being at University, this is her first time so far away from home and hearth and she's enjoying it greatly.
The other - Beth - is much the opposite, Steadfast, unyielding, driven and as foul-mouthed as it gets she's a Midwest girl who knows her mind and works hard to get what she's after. Her presence here is entirely serendipitous - but this is for the full work.
The rest are here as well - all of the Usual Suspects to be found around RE and the Mage Squad as this is directly in the time of "Aluminium Angel" - when Sterling and Arania were building the Pink Rover.
NOTE: All photos copyright me...
CHAPTER 1
Arania’s phone rang, a constant in her busy day. Tapping her headset she spoke, her voice pleasantly professional.
“Richer Engineering, Arania Wardoff speaking…Oh, Great!....Yes, unload it and I’ll send someone out to sign for it. Thanks!” Hanging up, she dialed again, connecting in moments.
“John, it’s Ari. Yes, I know you have Caller ID on that thing, don’t sass me….Oh, very well.
“I need you to go out to the Chesnut Road entrance – there’s a car transporter unloading a customer’s vehicle. Can you go fetch it in, please?...Good…
“Drop it in Bay 4 – this is going to be one for the interns… Yes, and YOU get to supervise them… Yes, I know. I don’t want to hear it. You knew the job was dangerous when you took it.” The smile on her face belied the growl in her voice, and both were audible to the elderly mechanic.
Minutes later the vehicle door opened and a low thrum of power idled into the shop. Proceeding at a very slow walk, the Range Rover Sport clanked, rattled and made ominous crunching noises as it slowly found its way to the bay.
Figuratively and literally the car was filthy. The grime of inactivity covered it as did the road film of a long trip on the car transporter. The interior, while empty was dusty, the stains of hands and feet soiling the white interior and the rubber mats on the floor.
Stopping and shutting the car down, John stepped out, shaking his head at the condition of the vehicle. As he did Blossom, attracted by the noise, entered the bay.
“OOOOOoooo, pretty. Breath of home, this is. Range Rover Sport – Supercharged?”
John nodded. “Sounds great, but you wouldn’t know it to hear it move. The old girl’s hurting – the brakes are triple pump, the dashboard is a pinball machine of lights and warnings, and it’s just not happy.
“Rumor has it you and your little partner in crime are going to get to clean this one up.”
“Oh, DO tell. The foul-mouthed one and I are going to get trusted with a hundred-thousand dollar car?”
“Sad to say the old girl’s long past that. The sale paperwork was on the seat – and she went for less than 10% of that.”
“Why? She needs help, but she’s not that bad.”
“The help is why. Hang on, let’s not go over this twice. Go talk to Mr. Smokey and fetch Beth, and let’s go over what you’ll be doing.
Blossom wandered across the shop. Here the music was louder and the clank of tools in use was also audible.
Smokey and Beth were under the bonnet of an elderly Rolls-Royce, the wing padded with blankets to prevent any chance of damage to the car.
“Naow, how did y’all put the plugs in?”
“Exactly the way you told me to. Hand-threaded to contact, then torqued to 15 foot-pounds because the threads were lubricated. Reset the wires to each one as I went so no chance of mixing up the wires.”
Smokey leaned back out of the engine compartment. “Good. Light ‘er up.”
Beth slid into the driver’s seat after removing her latex gloves, and a second later the big V8 cranked and purred. A touch of the accelerator produced a glissando of revving, and the car settled back to a quiet idle.
“Sounds good. Y’all can get on the wires and points after this, then we can send her home.”
Pam interrupted “Mr. Smokey, I need to borrow Beth for a while. Mr. MacDonald has a project for us.”
“Oh, that Range Rover showed up? Y’all’re gonna have a good time with that one – Ah hear it’s a mess.”
Pam grimaced. “Yes, Mr. MacDonald says it is. However, needs must, and Beth and I are here to learn.”
Smokey turned to Beth, who’d been listening attentively after shutting the Rolls down. “Beth, y’all’re gonna be workin’ with Mr. MacDonald for a bit. Naow, you go on with Blossom and git at it. When he’s done with ya come on back. Guess I gotta go back to work – lost mah minion.“ He grinned and made a shooing motion with his hands. “Git on, now. And be careful, the both of ya.”
As they left Beth turned to Blossom eagerly. “So, what is it? Spill!” she said, making ‘gimme’ motions with her hands.
“It is a Range Rover Sport – the new style body. Not new – it’s got some time on it. From what Mr. MacDonald was saying the underpinnings are SHOT – sounds like a bag of nails when it’s on the move.
“However, it has its virtues – one of them being a 450-horsepower supercharged engine that must be LOVELY when it’s on song.”
“OOOOOooo…” They rounded the corner and Beth got her first look at it.
“Oh my GOD…it’s a rolling whorehouse.” Blossom barked with laughter, both at the totally immoderate but accurate comment and the shock of dealing with Beth’s lack of brain to mouth filter.
“You are right. That it most certainly is.” However déclassé the comment was, it certainly was not inaccurate. In brilliant Rimini Red metallic paint with a white interior, the car had the atmosphere of an aging madam, her defects covered by the road grime and storage dust she wore.
“Fuck, Blossom – this thing’s a mess. It looks like shit.”
“Yes, Beth, and this is where you and Blossom come in.” The firm voice behind them made them turn and there stood Ari, tablet in hand.
“This needs to be put in order ASAP, inside and out.
“The car sat for a little under a year before being sold to its new owner, and it was badly broken before it ended up being abandoned to the weeds. The brakes are completely gone, there is at least one very defective front hub and the rest of the suspension needs to be gone over with a fine-tooth comb and checked for issues.
“It also needs an underbonnet check of all of the fluids and perishables, and an oil change.
“Also, we’ll need to hook up the LR diagnostic system to it and check all the errors it’s reporting. Not all of them – we hope – are real, and may have been caused by the battery going dead while it was stored.”
Ari looked at them directly. “YOU TWO are going to do the work, and the diagnostic work as well. Mr. MacDonald is going to supervise you, and any specialty questions will be referred to you-know-who, who if he needs to will probably call the factory and beat the information out of one of his friends there. Any questions?”
Beth raised her hand. Ari sighed, and laughed. “Beth…of course.” Ari laughed again and dropped the stern manner. “What do you want to know?”
“You told us the what – what you didn’t tell us was the why. What fucking idiot treated a beautiful lady like this – and what’s up for it now?”
Ari laughed again. “This one’s a soap opera. Why don’t you two get started on this thing with Mr. MacDonald, and I’ll get Al to send out for pizzas for lunch and he can tell you all about it.”
“Sounds great. I knew there HAD to be a story to this.”