Skodas

Sticking to the tree rim, I followed the road as it led away from the yard.

I was careful to steer well clear of the guard house and watchful for any remote sensors.  I didn't really expect any, but I hate surprises.

After about a mile, I found what I was looking for.

Actually, tripped over it.

A railway siding.

I followed it until I came to what I took to be an employee parking lot.

Lots more cars than I expected.  The workers must make good money.

Hope it's enough to afford insurance.

I started  my sneak and peak, looking for doors left unlocked, and any visible clothing that looked like it might fit.

I was beginning to feel like Goldilocks between bowls of porridge, when I came to an old Skoda that seemed to have everything I was looking for.

Now, to be honest, I fucking hate Skodas.  They're bad luck.

Made with six cylinders, you could MAYBE count on half of them working at any one time.  They were maybe the worst for our line of work because they talked.  You could always tell when one was coming, because of the knocking and the cloud of smoke coming from the tail pipe.

We were wrapping up the Svardia job and the only work car we could get was the ironically named Skoda Rapid.

Christ, we could have walked out of the country faster, but Jim wanted to "stick to the plan."

We spent more time by the side of the road than some streetwalkers.  Ex-fil was meant to take under an hour and ended up taking four days.

Four days.

No way that was part of the plan, Jim.

The giant coat that had been tossed so carelessly into the back seat turned out to be a surprisingly good fit.

I slammed the driver's seat as far back as it would go, got in and hot-wired the starter.

The car started to cough like a two-pack-a-day smoker clearing their throat.  Hack, splutter, cough, cough..., and then it caught.

I kept expecting security to show up at any moment, but I guess it was cold enough to keep them close to the guard shack stove.

After grinding a couple of pounds of coffee, the Skoda slid into gear and I slowly backed out of the space, heading for the front of the lot.

I hadn't gone a hundred yards before the temp gauge began to spike.

Christ.

There was no option now, I was going to have to risk the barrier just to keep the vehicle from burning up.

I quickly unfastened the soft top and made sure to bundle it as big as possible.

Less of a sitting duck.

I worked through the gears and built RPMs.