Bulletproof -Star of New York
The team get caught up in the glamorous world of racing, with high adrenaline and millions of dollars at stake that gives everybody a motive for murder. Usual team. Mac, Jo, Hawkes, Danny, Lindsay, Flack, Sid and Adam. I am using established relationships to provide side stories here too Kate/Flack (established OC) along with cannon pairings. This is the final (probably lol) in the bulletproof series.
Prologue
Sid Hammerback leaned on the rail of the track. He took his racing seriously, studied the form, the horses, the jockeys. He even knew what the trainer had eaten for breakfast.
He watched as the little bay thoroughbred stallion galloped past him, ears flat to his head, nostrils flared. Some would say this sport was cruel, that making a horse run until it could run no more, using it's instinct to flee at the front of a herd for money was exploitation. But Sid knew these horses, he saw the excitement in their eyes as they danced to the start line, he saw the determination as they battled to win. He saw the quiet knowledge in their wise eyes as they were led streaming with sweat to the winners enclosure. They knew they were the best.
He had of course, being a medical man, studied the muscle and bone structure of the equine. Huge lungs lying on each side of the body inflated with air pulled through flared nostrils at every stride. A heart full of valour pumped relentlessly between, arteries carrying newly oxygenated blood to the muscles that so desperately needed it. He marvelled at the design of nature that allowed an animal that could weigh up to a ton travel at speeds nearing 40mph. He mused that horses have no muscle from the knee and hock down, they have bone, sinew and tendon. Huge muscles in the hind quarters powered the horse forward, those skinny and seemingly fragile legs taking forces that they barely seemed able to withstand.
But anatomy aside, the horse was a beautiful creature, and The Star of New York was no exception. A small horse by racing standards, barely 15 hands, he was one of the fastest horses ever to walk the turf. He had almost perfect conformation for a race horse, and the aggression and ability to intimidate the opposition that made him a winner.
Of course the horse is just one part of the picture, and Sid knew this. He knew that the trainer, the jockey and the grooms were all vitally important. The grooms who took care of the horse, day to day. Saw to it's every whim, ensured that it was as happy and comfortable as possible. The trainer, who created a schedule that fitted the horses personality, played to it's strengths, improved on weaknesses, not that Star, as he was known to those closest to him, had any evident weaknesses. The jockey, the man who piloted these animals every day, who took fall after fall in their quest to win. Carl 'The King' Royle was the best, but only with Star, the combination had set fire to race tracks across New York State, and they were still in the opening stages of what promised to be a glittering career for both.
The owners were the money men, the people who didn't usually know one end of a horse from the other, who didn't know what made the horses tick. They showed up, in hats and suits having paid vast amounts of money for the privilege of being photographed shaking the trainer and jockeys hand next to a heaving and sweating example of natures machinery at it's best, holding their latest accolade.
Sid marked his card with the time it had taken Star of New York and Carl Royle to complete the circuit of the track.
"Faster again" he mused, watching as the horse was now being walked on a long rein to catch his breath.