Chapter 907 The Taxi Called by Brian
"Even if this kind of plot is written into a novel, it will be rejected by readers as too cliché." Jack complained.
He took the "Spotted Viper" handed to him by Brian, checked it again and stuffed it into the ankle holster. After putting down his pants, he jumped on the spot again to make sure that nothing strange could be seen. He breathed a sigh of relief.
The "Spotted Vipers" that Jack and Brian each rely on are all they rely on for their operations in France. To put it mildly, they are now stowaways. If their true identities are found, they will be regarded as spies. It is possible.
Kassel will probably be better off. After all, he is still a public figure. His books are also translated into French. At most, he will be deported to his country.
"Gentlemen, I have been ordered to take you away." A major appeared at the door and looked at the three of them seriously.
——
“Thank you.”
After being dropped off on a remote road, Jack shook hands with the unknown major and thanked him, looking at the Renault The truck turned around and drove off, then turned to look at Brian.
The connections he can use can send them here. Now the three of them are still nearly 200 kilometers away from Paris, and the next step depends on him.
"It should be here soon." Brian raised his hand and looked at the time, with a rare hint of unconfidence in his tone.
As he spoke, there was a buzzing sound in the distance, similar to the dull engine sound often heard on F1 racing tracks. Along with billowing smoke and dust, a 407 with a white logo slowly slowed down and drove towards the three of them. There is also a small TAXI sign on the roof of the car.
"Jack, the FBI, can get a military transport plane, but you, a former CIA agent, just called a taxi for us?" Cassel was surprised with a look of disdain.
Brian looked helpless, "Jack said it was best not to alert the French authorities, so I contacted an old friend and he assured me that this was the fastest way for us to get to Paris."
< br>"Gentlemen, are you traveling to Paris? There are not many tourists in Paris at this time. It's a good time for you. The roads will be relatively empty."
A head with a shaved head poked out of the driver's window, a smile full of enthusiasm.
Jack fell into silence looking at this familiar face. If he remembered correctly, shouldn't this person be on the streets of Marseille, and the time didn't seem to match.
The first part of a certain French racing movie was probably released before 2000. Looking at the protagonist Daniel, who was in his early 20s at most, he couldn't help but feel a headache for the chaotic timeline of this world.
"What are you waiting for? We don't have much time." Cassel eagerly opened the passenger door and wanted to get in, but Jack reached out to stop him.
"Well, you'd better sit in the back." Jack didn't necessarily want to enjoy a seat alone, it was just out of kindness.
The "Taxi Express" series got worse and worse after that. It's true that he didn't watch all of it, but in his impression, the only person who didn't vomit in this car was named Stallone, and even he was only sitting in the back seat at the time.
“Are you all American tourists?” Hearing that they were talking in English, Daniel asked enthusiastically in English with a broken accent.
"Yes, we are in a hurry, please use your fastest speed to send us to Paris." Cassel handed over a wad of dollars as soon as he got in the car.
"Uh" Jack, who had just closed the passenger door, slapped his face.
"Please fasten your seat belts, gentlemen." Daniel held a thick stack of dollars, his eyes gleaming, and stretched out his hand to pull the bottom of the dashboard, revealing a dense number of switches and buttons.
Jack sighed and put on his seat belt resignedly. To be honest, he still preferred the feeling of the steering wheel in his hands when it came to drag racing. As Daniel flipped the switch, four pneumatic jacks slowly lifted the car body, and the large wheels automatically protruded to both sides. The front of the car deformed into a modified bumper with diversion grooves, and the luggage compartment at the rear of the car was The rear wing was extended.
"What's going on?" Cassell was startled by a series of mechanical sounds and looked around nervously, wanting to know what was going on.
"Why don't you put on some music?" Seeing that someone had taken out the racing steering wheel from under the seat and replaced the original steering wheel, Jack thought that since he had encountered everything, he might as well just fill up the atmosphere. .
With a burst of brisk guitar licks, the taxi's engine erupted with a dull sound that should not belong to the iconic 407. Almost at the moment it started, the heads of the four people in the car were pushed back by a huge force at the same time. He pressed firmly on the headrest of the seat.
In Jack's memory of his previous life, "PumpIt" by the Black Eyed Peas is as magical as "Pumpkin" and the opening theme of "Knight Rider". No matter which one of these three songs is heard, The roar of the racing engine and the squeak of the tires rubbing against the ground will always come to mind automatically.
"Actually, we are not in that hurry. There is no need to lose your driver's license for speeding." Cassel raised his hand to block his eyes, trying not to let himself see the scenery passing by outside the window.
He could have sworn that the one that was hung upside down on the side of the road just now was definitely a French police speed detector.
“Don’t worry, I don’t have a driver’s license.” Daniel smiled extremely brightly.
Casel didn’t know he was joking. When he heard this, his hanging heart finally died. He grabbed the armrest with one hand and pulled tightly on his seat belt with the other hand.
Daniel was still teasing him deliberately, "Don't worry, sir, we haven't gotten on the highway yet. I can shift into second gear when I get on the highway."
At this time, a long stretch of road appeared on the side of the road. On the railway line going out, a "Eurostar" was traveling at high speed on the railway track.
Casel, who was secretly peeking out of the car window through his fingers, looked at the train that seemed to be slowly reversing in disbelief, and then looked at the direction of the taxi.
“Wait, is that a bullet train?”
“Yes, that’s right, this train is beautiful, isn’t it? It turns corners very fast, but goes slowly in a straight line. A little bit.”
Listening to this outrageous speech, Cassel made the sign of the cross in front of him with trembling hands.
Jack also drags cars, but usually he just knocks down criminals and is done. He usually drives well. This kind of drag racing experience of nearly 200 kilometers at high speed is the first time for him. Sure enough, he has to go out frequently to do it. experience.
“44 minutes and 35 seconds, I wish you all a good time in Paris!” Two long brake marks were pulled out, and two vomit bags automatically popped up on the back of the seat in front of the rear seat.
"vomit" Military transport planes obviously do not provide in-flight meals. Kassel had nothing to vomit and retched several mouthfuls of sour water.
Daniel hurriedly took out a plastic bag and wanted to hand it to Jack in the passenger seat, but met his smile, "The technology is good, let's talk about it if we have a chance."
He looked back suspiciously and found that Brian didn't seem to have any reaction. It wasn't until he saw Cassel that he smiled with satisfaction and started praising him seriously.
"You two are so awesome. Generally speaking, every time I stop the car, not a single passenger can hold back."
(End of Chapter)
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