Dedicated for my Mother's Birthday, because she is a real Golden Oldie

A truck, the flat bed in the back littered with accumulated junk from the work of its mechanics, pulled up beside a dilapidated garage. The rust colored paint job was marred by white letters printed on the truck's side proclaiming "Quickie Car Fixie". Neon letters glowed the same message from above the building's big garage doors.

The car stopped close to the entrance of the left side of the building. A black man dressed in a mechanic's jump suit opened the passenger door and dashed to the keypad beside the building's side entrance. "Alright, Johnny," he said, as he keyed in his code, his voice eager. "Let's see how the job came out in the end."

The mechanic hurriedly tapped his code out on the buttons of the keypad, and then jabbed the enter button. When the door didn't buzz open, he noticed that the display had not confirmed his entry either. "Come on, Johnny, quit messing around. Did you actually pause the lock?"

Another mechanic climbed out of the driver's seat and walked around the truck. He was clearly taller than the first, and his lanky arms swung as he climbed out of the truck and walked to the door. "Chill, Dan," he said, sweeping his wavy brown hair back with his fingers. "I thought we could use the extra secruity tonight. I don't want anything to go wrong this close to the big day. This way, no one can open the door but me." Johnny stepped up to the back and set it back to normal play. He keyed in his code and the door buzzed open. Dan threw open the door and Johnny followed him inside.

The Ford rolled past and then turned right again before stopping around the corner. "That building is our target," Noah said to the other passengers. "According to our file, the building is owned by Paul Blanc. He rents it out to two mechanics, who run the garage. The property owner, Paul, is our target."

He turned to turn the pages in the file, and Eden called out from the back seat. "That's all we've got on him? The Company can't get anymore than that."

"No, Eden," he said patiently. "We know he is a white American, 21 years old, about five eleven, brown hair, no glasses, no facial hair. You want a picture?"

"I meant, do we know what he does? Can the Haitian block him?"

"No, Eden, we don't know that. He matches the genetic markers, so we are going to bag him, determine the extent of his abilites, tag him, and bring him back. And besides, we aren't using the Haitain much in this run. It's your first mission, and that means you're getting trained. I want you active, not damped by him." He turned to the Haitian sitting beside him. "Stay here is the car, keep it running. Keep in contact with the these." He handed the Haitain a walkie-talkie, and the Haitian nodded.

Noah opened the door begore turning back to Eden and speaking to her again. "You ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," she said, as she climbed out.

"Good," Noah said once they were both stanindg beside the car. "And remember, keep it—"

"I know, I know. Short and sweet. Let's get this going."

Dan walked toward the center of the room as Johnny flicked the lights. The two of them probably did not need the lights to make their way around the room, but the lights made it easier to admire their handiwork.

" You ready for the grand reveal?" dan asked, his hands on the edges of the tarp laid over their latest project.

Johnny laughed. "I think this calls for some ambience, my man!" He threw his arms to the corner of the room, and a old record player burst into life, shouting out "Celebrate good times, come on!"

Dan smiled. "You had that set up, didn't you. You and your antiques."

"Of course. And the antiques are golden, man. That's why they're called golden oldies. So? You about ready over there?"

"Alright." He lifted the sheet up hesitantly and began to count. "Three, two, one." Dan quickly threw the tarp aside and a gleaming motorcycle stood in its place. The metal shined, and the bike looked like a perfect construction. Dan whistled. "Its a masterpiece, that's certain." He looked up at Johnny. "And you're going to ride this beauty in the race tomorrow?"

"Yep, and you, my dear pit man, are gonna make sure she stays like this trhoughout the whole race, got it?"

"As longas yoou don't double her speed in the middle of the race again. That really wears down on her, when you do your turbo charge thing. And beside, its cheating!"

"Dan, I'm shocked! My own friend, accusing me of cheating in a race. I would never do such a thing." Dan rolled his eyes. "Besides, this baby wouldn't need me to cheat for her. She runs like a dream."

"Anyway," Johnny said, bringing Dan around to point out the other side of the cycle. "I named her. What do you think?"

Dan glanced at the painted name before barking a laugh. "I gotta admit, you did a good job on the paint job. But, New Age Grease Lightning?" He laughed again. "You really are an oldies man."

"The oldies got class." He stretched an arm to the corner of the room, and put the record player back into pause as the record's finished. "Anyway, I am just going to take her out for one last run before the race."

"All right." Dan clapped him on the back. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Right. And turn out the lights on your way out. I'm leaving in a minute, and I don't want the electricity bill to be racking up while neither of us are here anyway."

Johnny started to wheel the motorcycle to the garage door when Dan called out to him from the side entrance. "By the way, Johnny, why don't you think about getting an alias? You know, a stage name, something cool. To match the bikes name."

Johnny smiled. "Man, you got it all wrong. I got a stage name, and life's the stage. My real name is Paul Blanc. But who wants a name like that? So everyone calls me, Johnny Quick."

Dan's jaw dropped. "No way. That means, we are actually renting—"

"Yeah, well, let's keep that little detail between you and me, Dan. Besides, I always preferred Johnny Quick."

Dan looked askance but nodded. "Ok. See you tomorrow then, Johnny."

"Right, see you at the race."

Dan turned out the main lights, and closed the door behind him. The garage quickly fell silent, and the lights were all off except fro a small one above the garage entrance. Johnny put his keys into the motorcycle's ignition and started polished the bike again until the silence started to grate at him. He started whistling, when there was a loud bang at the door. Another bang, and a foot kicked in the door. The foot withdrew, and Johnny heard someone say, "After you, my lady."

A woman walked through the broken door, and immediately noticed Johnny. "He's still here," she called back immediately, and then focused on Johnny. "Are you Paul Blanc?"

"Who are you people?"

A man in horn rimmed glasses walked through the door. "Answer the question first, young man. Are you Paul Blanc?"

"Get out of my garage!"

Eden's voice echoed in the garage. "Are you Paul Blanc?"

Johnny answered before he thought. "That's my birth name." He shook his head when he realized he answered. "Who are you people?"

"Paul Blanc," Eden started to say, and her voice echoed in Johnny's mind again, "I want you to—"

Johnny threw himself towards the door before Eden could finish the sentence and slammed the switch to open the garage door. As the old machine kicked into life, it screeched loudly and the noise of the gears resounded through the room. Eden could not hear herself over the machine's noise, and the rest of her sentence was lost.

Noah pulled his gun, and fired a warning shot at Johnny. The loud discharge from the gun could be hear clearly even over the machine's noise, and Johnny saw a streak on the floor where the bullet had skipped past. "Freeze," Noah shouted.

Johnny leapt behind a box of tools, and tried to cover himself from Noah's fire. He reached a hand toward the garage door opener mounted on the ceiling and reached out with his mind to make it play at twice the speed. Instantly, the machine started drawing the garage door up twice as quickly, and the noise from the machine doubled in intensity. Eden covered her ears, but Noah started to advance on Johnny's hiding spot.

Headlights flooded the darkened garage, and a hot rod BMW pulled throough the opening garage door. A well dressed woman was leaning a bare arm out window honked her horn into the din as the machine finished winding the door opened and quieted. "What the hell is going on here," she asked staring at Noah's firearm. Johnny opened the passenger side door of her car and leaped in.

"Drive, Pris. Get out of here, go!"

She threw the car into reverse and the tires tore at the groundas she pulled out of the garage quickly. With experienced ease, she turned the car around quickly and sped off down the street.

Noah picked up the radio at his waist and shouted into it. "Get over here quick. They're running." Noah heard the motorcycle start up behind him and turned quickly.

Eden was stratled over the bike, and was about to put on a helmet. "What the hell do you think you're doing," Noah yelled at her.

"I screwed up. I didn't keep the command short enough, and now I'm fixing it. I'm going after them. Keep up." She strapped on the helmet and revved the motorcycle.

"No way. You are going with us, and we take him as a team."

"And be sidelined when the Haitain damps my power? No way. Like I said, keep up." She threw back the throttle and took off after the BMW.

"Thank G-d you showed up, Priscilla." Johnny slumped back in the chair as Pris drove off.

"What the hell was going on back there, Johnny? I thought I was meeting you so we could have a pre-game race tonight to try out your new bike for any bugs. Not meeting with an assasination team!"

"Pris, trust me, I've got no idea." He glanced at her as she drove away. "You really do handle this baby well. But what's with the getup?" He pointed at her pink tank top and short blue skirt. "Those aren't exactly racing clothes."

"Well, I was hoping we could hit the bar for a little celebration. After I beat you in tonight's race."

Johnny smiled. "Great idea. Getting caught at the bar with my best rival the night before my bike's debut. I couldn't think of anything better." He glanced behind them, and saw only a few lights on the road. "Especially now. If you can think of bar that we can get lost in, I say we head there now, Pris."

"Music to my ears. But I think your bike wants to orace my car even if you aren't driving it, Johnny."

"What?" Johnny sat bolt up right and stared out the back window before he saw the lone headlight gaining speed. "Damn, they got New Age Grease Lighting." He took another moment to admire the bike before commenting, "damn, she is a quick machine."

"She gaining quick. Don't tell me you turbo charged her, Johnny." She smacked him with a free hand. "You did, didn't you! So you could beat me easily in the race! You louse."

"I did not! I built her so I didn't need to set her play speed any higher than normal. But she's still gaining on us."

"Yeah, and I think there's another car tailing us back there. Can you slow either of them down?"

He watched the road behind them before lifting an arm toward the vehicles behind them. "No, they're too far away and they're too complex. But I've get a better idea." He rolled down the window and looked at the trees in the distance. "Hey, pris, check my math. We're going about 90, and Grease is probably around that and gaining. The car behind it looks like it tops out at 80. That means the distance between them is growing another—"

"Now is not the time for precision, Johnny. Just do it!"

Johnny stuck his head out the window, and quickly muttered a prayer. "G-d, please don't let me hit the bike." He stuck his arm, and focused on a tree ahead of them. Immediately, the tree started to race through time and age instantly. The tree's trunk rotted quickly, and could not support the tree's branches. With a creak, the tree started to tip over a second later, and Johnny slowed the tree's passage through time to delay it a second or more from falling. He focused on a second and third tree before the car speed by them. The first tree started to fall as soon as the BMW passed, and the bike swerved around it as it fell. The other two fell well behind Grease Lightning, but managed to block up the road before Noah's car could get by.

"Yes," Johnny shouted, and cranked his arm. "Perfect execution."

"Well done, Johnny, except your bike is still after us!" She smacked him again. "Idiot! You missed."

"Hey, I didn't! I want my bike back! There's a turn off in another mile. Take it into the forest. And slow down. I want to make sure that girl on my bike follows us."

Pris tapped the brakes and Eden gunned the bike up to catch up. Pris hit a button and the window rolled down.

"Give up now. You're racing the best," Pris yelled out the window.

Eden pulled up as close to the BMW and shouted. "Pull over!"

Instantly, Pris's eyes glazed over, and she slowed and moved towards the left curb of the road. "What are you doing," Johnny shouted at her, but she did not respond. The BMW slowed and stopped and Eden pulled the bike up behind them.

"Got them," she said to the radio on waist, and dismounted the bike.

"Pris," Johnny yelled at her. "Go." When she didn't respond, he kicked the door handle and then shoved Priscilla out the door. He slammed the door shut and brought his foot down on the pedal. The tires screeched before the traction caught, and Johnny cursed as the car pulled away quickly.

"Damn," Eden said, and grabbed the radio again. "He dropped the girl, and is taking off. Going after him again." She put the radio back on her waist and jumped back on the bike.

Johnny gunned the car as fast as he could into the forest, and nearly skidded into the turn. "Get a hold of yourself," he muttered to himself as he masterfully drove through the dangerous back roads and deeper into the forest. Moments after him, Eden turned and followed him down the back roads.

As soon as Johnny was deep enough in, he quickly spun the wheel and car looped around. He waited for another minute until he saw the bike coming at him, and saw the rider's arrogant smile. He waited another minute until he started the car back up and went moving slowly toward the oncoming bike.

When he close enough, he reached his hand out over the dashboard and focused on Grease Lightning. He sent the bike into slow play, and Eden tumbled over the handlebars as the bike sloweed when she did not. With a hard crash, she rolled and slammed her side a tree. Johnny drove the car quickly over to her, cutting her off from regaining the bike.

He rolled the window down, and pointed at Eden's boots. He set them to play as quick as possible, and they immediately aged years in seconds and exploded into dust. He held his hand out to her, and said, "Careful, who knows what I might blow up next. Now stand up."

Slowly, Eden got up, her bare feet painfully crunching on forest undergrowth. She stared him in the eyes, and opened her mouth to speak. "Cea—"

Johnny leaned on the horn and cut Eden off. "No tricks. I've got every tree here ready to fall and crush you. I'd guess you can command, so I wouldn't warn me to stop using my power or anything like that, or I might just let go of them." She narrowed her eyes at him, but remained silent.

"Good," he continued. "Now who are you people?"

"You must think you're something, don't you? Well, why don't you," and her voice echoed quickly, "freeze."

Johnny froze into stiff motion, but released his hold on the trees surrounding them with his mind. Once released from pause, the now rotten trees collapsed and fell into the opening. Eden dived out of the way of one, and yelled at Johnny quickly. "Use your power on the trees." Eden felt her jacket explode into dust in the middle of her roll before she yelled again. "And use it on nothing else." As she got up from the ground, she rubbed her fingers over the material of her shirt, and felt that it was worn and degrading.

"Oh well," she commented, "I wanted a new shirt anyway."

Carefully, she picked her way over the ground and climbed into the car behind Johnny. "Now then, I want my shirt back. So you are going to," her voice echoing again, "tell me what your power is and if you can fix my shirt."

"In geek speak, I adjust the relativistic perception of an object's motion through time. In layman's terms, I can make something move through time quicker or slower. So I can accelerate an object so that it moves through time so quick it would seem like it ages to dust in moments. Or I can make a ball move so quickly that it is deadly as a bullet. Or I can just pause a tree so that it hangs in mid air. But I can't turn back time, only adjust its progress."

"Say you're sorry," Eden said with only a little spite.

"I'm sorry."

"Good." She picked up her radio and spoke into it. "I've bagged him. Let's tag him. Oh, and see if you can bring me an extra pair of shoes."