Sultan watched the camera feeds. The garage doors were reinforced steel. Two guards with automatic rifles. Badini didn’t slow down. He slammed the Skyline into third, then fourth. The RB26 screamed past 9,000 RPM. He hit a makeshift ramp—a stack of old pallets—and the Skyline launched into the air, crashing through the garage door in a shower of sparks and twisted metal.
And flush him out, they did.
Badini smiled for the first time in eight years. It was a terrible thing to see. fast and furious badini
The race began. A snarling pack of tricked-out Lamborghinis and tricked-out local imports screamed past the Gateway of India. In the lead was Sultan’s top driver, a cold-blooded pro named Rani who drove a matte-black Porsche 911 Turbo S. She was unbeatable. Sultan watched the camera feeds
"No," Badini said, pressing a detonator taped to his steering wheel. "He was the bait. And you just spent eight years driving right into my trap." Badini didn’t slow down