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“You were going to give me a cop ride for our anniversary in July. What, you’re a sensitive now and foretold my ride would get trashed?”
“It was only a matter of time. But no. I thought it was a gift you’d appreciate. Now, it’s not a gift. Now, it’s a request. You’ll do a favor for me and take it, use it.”
“I don’t get why you’d—”
“It’s loaded,” he interrupted. “The internal data and communication, both primary and secondary, are state of the art. Its vertical and air are comparable to the new XS-6000.”
“The XS . . . you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“As with much else, it’s what’s inside that counts here. It’ll go from zero to sixty—ground or air—in under one-point-three seconds.”
“Sweet.”
“It can achieve a fifteen-foot vertical lift within that same amount of time.” He smiled as she began to circle it, study it. Smile widened to grin as she opened the hood. She knew next to nothing about engines.
“It’s really big and shiny under here.”
“It’s programmed for solar, noncombustible, and combustible fuel. Its body is blast-proof, as are its windows. It’s a bloody tank that’ll move like a rocket. Auto-nav, of course, holo-map, voice or manual controls. It has an electronics detector that will notify you if anyone has rigged it—or attempted to. There’s an in-dash camera with a reach of a hundred and fifty yards in any direction.”
“Jesus.”
“Memory seats. Alarms, lights, and sirens as required by the department. A blast screen that can be activated between the front and back sections if you have a need to transport any suspicious characters. Let’s see, have I forgotten anything?”
“Yeah, the twelve-disc tutorial that tells me how to run it. Roarke, I can’t—”
“It’s programmed for your voice and print, no codes necessary.” She wouldn’t, he’d determined, get out of it that way. “For now, you just tell it what to do. It’s programmed for Peabody as well, as I know you very occasionally allow her to take the wheel. And for me. If at any time you want someone else to drive, you can authorize them.”
“Okay, now hold on. This is worth five times—maybe ten times—what a department ride is. I’ve never actually bought a vehicle, so I’m ballparking here. I can’t drive around in something that costs more than all the rides in my department put together. Pretty much.”
He thought she could be as skittish as a virgin when it came to money. “But I can bribe your fuckers and bastards with cases of brew and sports tickets.”
“Yes. Not logical, but yes.”
He just brushed a finger on the healing cut on her forehead. “Think of this. If you’d been driving this yesterday, you’d not only have avoided the accident, you’d have apprehended those in the van. You may very well have closed your case by now.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“But more, I’ll say again. This isn’t a gift. It’s a favor to me. I’ll know when you’re in it, you’re safe. So I’m asking you to do this for me.”
“It’s sneaky of you.” She hissed out a breath. “Damn sneaky of you not to get pissed or demand. Make it a favor. That you’re doing it as much for yourself as me.”
With the soft spring morning around them, the homely ride beside them, his eyes met hers. “That would be the truth.”
“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Yeah, it would be. I can do you a favor.”
“Thanks.” He touched his lips to hers.
“Hey.” And she grabbed his lapels, dragged him back for a long one. “Pretty damn smart, aren’t you? You made it just ugly enough. Inconspicuous. Nobody looks twice.”
“I have to admit, that was a hard one for me. I think one of the designers had a breakdown. Cried for an hour.”
She laughed. “It’s good. It’s really good. You had it built for me. Jeez, it’s my first actually owned-by-me vehicle, and you had it built for me.”
“It’s the DLE Urban—and one of a kind.”
“DLE? What—oh.” It took her a minute, and pleased her absurdly. “Dallas, Lieutenant Eve.”
“And, as I said, there’s only one. We’re manufacturing others with the body type—for the economical range—but none will have the unique capabilities as this one.”
