Four-oh.
Forty.
Jack Swyteck was born on December 7, exactly twenty-five years after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He'd been stepping on land mines ever since.
"I cant afford this," said Jack.
He and his best friend, Theo Knight, were in the chrome - and-glass showroom at Classic Cars of Miami, standing beside a fully restored 1968 Mustang GT-390 Fastback. Jack was on his heels, reeling from sticker shock.
"You can't afford not to do this," said Theo.
"I have no desire to make a big deal out of forty."
"Dude, I said it before: 'There's two kinds of people in this world--risk takers and shit takers. Someday, you gotta decide which you're gonna be when you grow up. And today is that day."
The Mustang's Highland Green finish gleamed beneath the halogen lights. Jack could hardly wait to see it in the south Florida sun.
It had been four years since Jack's beloved 1966 Mustang convertible with pony interior had gone up in flames at the hands of some pissed-off Colombians who had their own special way of getting his attention. Theo was at Jack's side as the wrecker towed the burned-out shell away---just as he'd been there for Jack's divorce, Jack's run for his life in Cote d'lvoire, and everything in between. Theo was just a teenager when they'd first met, the youngest inmate on Florida's death row. It took years of legal maneuvering and last-minute appeals, but Jack finally proved Theo's innocence. Becoming the best of friends with a badass from Miami's toughest African American gang had not been part of jack's plans, but Theo had vowed to pay his lawyer back.
Sometimes, Jack wished he would call it even already.
"You don't think this smacks of a midlife crisis?" said Jack.
"Dude, your whole life is a crisis."
The car salesman returned with the keys in hand. Jack's girlfriend, Andie, was with him. She was smiling--a good sign.
Jack had met FBI agent Andie Henning under the toughest of circumstances: she was tracking a serial kidnapper with his sights on Jack's girlfriend. She was now officially Jack's longest steady since his divorce. Even more important--for present purposes, anyway--any woman trained in hostage negotiation had to be able to cut one hell of a deal on a used car.
"Here's your number," she said, as she handed him a slip of paper.
Jack checked it. "Nice work," he said.
"Don't say I never did anything for you."
"So, let's see the Mustang run, shall we?" said the salesman.
Andie glanced at the cramped, fold-down backseat and said, "You boys have fun."
"You're not coming?" said Jack.
"I have a haircut appointment. I think it's time for that short, professional look, don't you?"
Jack was speechless. He loved Andie's hair--long and raven black. With her amazing green eyes and high, Native American cheekbones, it made her a captivating, exotic beauty.
"You're going to cut off your hair?" he said with trepidation.
"Naturally. It's what women do when they--wait a minute. I'm sorry. You're turning forty, not me. Whew, what a relief."
"Very funny."
"Love you," she said.
The L word had entered their relationship in August. Having watched it slowly evaporate from the vocabulary of his first marriage, Jack didn't take it lightly.
"Love you too."
He kissed her good-bye, and it was just Jack, Theo, and their own little piece of automobile history.
Theo snatched the keys from the salesman. "Let's roll," he said.
With the push of a button, the salesman opened the showroom door, and then he climbed in the backseat. Theo settled behind the custom leather-grip steering wheel as if the car were made for him.
"Shouldn't I be driving?" said Jack.
Theo glared. "I'm in the bed naked, about to have sex with Beyonce Knowles, and you're telling me to move over so you can take a nap?"
"What?"
"It's a test drive, Swyteck. We ain't just kickin' the tires here."
It was one of the things Jack loved about Theo. He could hurl insults to your face and still make you laugh.
Jack rode shotgun and, with Theo's turn of the
Forty.
Jack Swyteck was born on December 7, exactly twenty-five years after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He'd been stepping on land mines ever since.
"I cant afford this," said Jack.
He and his best friend, Theo Knight, were in the chrome - and-glass showroom at Classic Cars of Miami, standing beside a fully restored 1968 Mustang GT-390 Fastback. Jack was on his heels, reeling from sticker shock.
"You can't afford not to do this," said Theo.
"I have no desire to make a big deal out of forty."
"Dude, I said it before: 'There's two kinds of people in this world--risk takers and shit takers. Someday, you gotta decide which you're gonna be when you grow up. And today is that day."
The Mustang's Highland Green finish gleamed beneath the halogen lights. Jack could hardly wait to see it in the south Florida sun.
It had been four years since Jack's beloved 1966 Mustang convertible with pony interior had gone up in flames at the hands of some pissed-off Colombians who had their own special way of getting his attention. Theo was at Jack's side as the wrecker towed the burned-out shell away---just as he'd been there for Jack's divorce, Jack's run for his life in Cote d'lvoire, and everything in between. Theo was just a teenager when they'd first met, the youngest inmate on Florida's death row. It took years of legal maneuvering and last-minute appeals, but Jack finally proved Theo's innocence. Becoming the best of friends with a badass from Miami's toughest African American gang had not been part of jack's plans, but Theo had vowed to pay his lawyer back.
Sometimes, Jack wished he would call it even already.
"You don't think this smacks of a midlife crisis?" said Jack.
"Dude, your whole life is a crisis."
The car salesman returned with the keys in hand. Jack's girlfriend, Andie, was with him. She was smiling--a good sign.
Jack had met FBI agent Andie Henning under the toughest of circumstances: she was tracking a serial kidnapper with his sights on Jack's girlfriend. She was now officially Jack's longest steady since his divorce. Even more important--for present purposes, anyway--any woman trained in hostage negotiation had to be able to cut one hell of a deal on a used car.
"Here's your number," she said, as she handed him a slip of paper.
Jack checked it. "Nice work," he said.
"Don't say I never did anything for you."
"So, let's see the Mustang run, shall we?" said the salesman.
Andie glanced at the cramped, fold-down backseat and said, "You boys have fun."
"You're not coming?" said Jack.
"I have a haircut appointment. I think it's time for that short, professional look, don't you?"
Jack was speechless. He loved Andie's hair--long and raven black. With her amazing green eyes and high, Native American cheekbones, it made her a captivating, exotic beauty.
"You're going to cut off your hair?" he said with trepidation.
"Naturally. It's what women do when they--wait a minute. I'm sorry. You're turning forty, not me. Whew, what a relief."
"Very funny."
"Love you," she said.
The L word had entered their relationship in August. Having watched it slowly evaporate from the vocabulary of his first marriage, Jack didn't take it lightly.
"Love you too."
He kissed her good-bye, and it was just Jack, Theo, and their own little piece of automobile history.
Theo snatched the keys from the salesman. "Let's roll," he said.
With the push of a button, the salesman opened the showroom door, and then he climbed in the backseat. Theo settled behind the custom leather-grip steering wheel as if the car were made for him.
"Shouldn't I be driving?" said Jack.
Theo glared. "I'm in the bed naked, about to have sex with Beyonce Knowles, and you're telling me to move over so you can take a nap?"
"What?"
"It's a test drive, Swyteck. We ain't just kickin' the tires here."
It was one of the things Jack loved about Theo. He could hurl insults to your face and still make you laugh.
Jack rode shotgun and, with Theo's turn of the
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