Last night's meeting went very well. Monica won over Owen's mother and Amanda, and Monica herself really liked Owen's family. They all enjoyed dinner together in a warm, joyful atmosphere.
Of course, after dinner, Owen wasn't about to take Monica straight home—this kind of moment was too perfect to waste. He successfully lured Monica back to his rental place. However, his hopes were quickly dashed.
On the bed, Owen was kicked off by an exasperated Monica.
"Amanda was right. You ate garlic—your breath is disgusting! Oh God, I'm suffocating..."
And just like that, Owen's happiness was destroyed by garlic. Even brushing his teeth didn't help. Monica pulled out her M1911 and wouldn't let him get within six feet of her—otherwise, she'd shoot.
Owen was speechless. Foreigners ate garlic too. In Germany, they had garlic jam and garlic cheese; in France, there was garlic bread and garlic butter escargot.
Even in California, there was a town called Gilroy, known as the "Garlic Capital of the World." Since 1979, they've held a massive food and music festival every year during the last three days of July.
All the food at that festival was garlic-themed—garlic steak, garlic squid, garlic roast chicken, garlic butter corn on the cob, even garlic perfume!
But all of that garlic was cooked or roasted. Raw garlic had a completely different smell. So Owen was disqualified from "competition" and had to spend the night alone.
Monica left in utter disgust, and before going, she sternly warned Owen not to contact her for the next three days—or else they were through.
All because of garlic.
So the next day, Owen aimlessly wandered the streets again, with nothing better to do.
Carlos was too busy with his case to pay attention to him. Monica had threatened to break up with him. Owen spent the whole morning at the gym but didn't run into Harry or Simon. It felt like the whole world had abandoned him.
Owen decided to go look for Dom. He hadn't seen him since their last street race. That guy was a fellow extreme sports enthusiast—not just racing, but also skateboarding, rock climbing, and skydiving. Maybe they could do something fun together.
He didn't even bother to call—just drove straight to Dom's garage.
When he pulled up, Owen got out of the car. The garage was busy. A few of Dom's workers were modifying an Alfa Romeo. Owen whistled and greeted the guys.
"Hey, Mia, is your brother around?"
Dom's sister Mia was beautiful—classic long legs, though a bit flat-chested.
When she had free time, she liked helping out at the front desk. Seeing Owen walk in, she smiled and said, "My brother's in the back working on something. You can go find him."
"Wash it nice and clean for me, will you? I'll tip you…"
Owen grinned and tossed her the keys before heading inside.
From a distance, he could already see Dom through a glass panel, scribbling on a whiteboard. There appeared to be some kind of structure diagram on it.
"Hey, Dom, what are you working on…"
"Hey, man, you're here. Recognize what this is?"
Owen looked closely at the drawing on the whiteboard. It was clearly a bridge, with measurements for height and width.
"Fayetteville Bridge?"
"Nope," Dom laughed in that signature deep, magnetic voice of his. "Karachisov Bridge."
"Shit, are you insane? You're jumping off that?"
"Yup."
Dom nodded confidently.
What Dom was planning was extreme skydiving—more specifically, BASE jumping, the most dangerous kind.
BASE is an acronym for Building, Antenna, Span (bridge), and Earth (cliff)—the four categories of structures from which jumps are made.
As an extreme sport, BASE jumping has a unique thrill compared to traditional high-altitude (airplane) skydiving. The gear, deployment technique, and jump style are completely different—and it's also way more dangerous. Every year, people die because they fail to deploy their parachute in time.
Because it's so risky, BASE jumping is banned in most countries. Even in the U.S., only a few locations allow it. One of those is the Fayetteville Bridge Owen had mentioned.
Located in Virginia, the Fayetteville Bridge is a mecca for BASE jumpers. On the third Saturday of every October, extreme sports lovers from around the world gather there to jump.
The bridge stands just 267 meters above the ground. That's barely a few seconds of freefall. For skydivers, that's cutting it really close. BASE jumping is not for beginners—any small error can mean death.
Globally, there are only about 1,000 active BASE jumpers. Of those, fewer than 50 are considered elite, and even they can't guarantee safety.
Owen vividly remembered, in a past life, an Australian BASE jumper had been seriously injured during an event at the Jin Mao Tower in Shanghai.
What made the Fayetteville Bridge such a haven for jumpers—besides its relatively low height—was the deep river beneath it. Even if the parachute failed to open, the jumper might survive the fall.
But Dom had picked the Karachisov Bridge, which had far worse conditions than the Fayetteville Bridge.
The Karachisov Bridge was nearby, in the western suburbs of Los Angeles, but it was even lower—only 265 meters. Worse still, though a river ran underneath, it had mostly dried up.
Attempting a BASE jump there meant that failure would be fatal.
"You sure you want to do this?" Owen couldn't help but ask.
"Absolutely. I've calculated everything. It'll be fine."
Dom wore a confident smile, but to Owen, he seemed completely nuts.
Owen knew how to skydive—and was good at it too—but BASE jumping was a different story. That was straight-up playing with death.
Most people assumed that higher jumps were more dangerous, but in fact, it was the opposite.
The higher the jump, the more time a diver had to react, adjust position, and deploy their chute. BASE jumps typically happen from 300 to 500 meters, giving jumpers only about five seconds to open their chute. If it doesn't open in that window—game over.
And unlike high-altitude jumps, which use two parachutes (a main and a reserve), BASE jumping only uses one. There's no time to deploy a second if something goes wrong. That's what makes it so dangerous. One mistake—and it's over.
Owen didn't know how to talk Dom out of it. If Dom wanted to challenge height, he could've just gone to Fayetteville. But Owen knew that wasn't what this was about. Dom wasn't chasing height—he was chasing the danger of walking the line between life and death.
Owen couldn't think of a convincing reason to stop him. What was he going to say—"It's illegal to BASE jump here"? Dom wouldn't care about that.
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