Novel & Cerita Mach 2 To Mph

Soon a gust of wind comes barreling in, blowing down trees and splitting the water in Ember’s pond. “Woah!” I say. Casey and Bella have shocked faces again. “How fast was I going?” “You passed us about fifty times!” Casey says. What? I didn’t even see them! “Damian, you went Mach 10,925!” “English please?” Ember asks. “Right uh… that’s over 8.3 million miles per hour or 13.5 million kilometers per hour!” Casey says. Ember stares at me in a bit of shock and impression. “Next test is durability.”

“Pretty much.” “Addie! You said it was urgent. You asked me to get here with the speed of a hypersonic missile. Do you even know how fast those are? They run at a massive speed of five point one kilometers which is equal to three point two miles per sec—” She lost me at hypersonic Missile and I can’t stand to listen to anymore of her science jargon. I only used the missile analogy because I spent half of the last year listening to her go on and on about it for some class project.

Alex couldn't remember the last time he had driven his car this fast. The distance from the MAC building to the mansion was less than an hour if taken by car casually. Forty-five minutes if he wanted to arrive faster or thirty minutes if Alex was speeding. However, it had now been almost 20 minutes since he had left MAC, and Alex had not even made it halfway. He had forgotten that the streets of Chicago during the day could get bustling sometimes. "Fuck!" Alex cursed while hitting the steering wheel of his car in annoyance.

My dad is storing his luxury cars in his big garage in our mansion. As far as I know, Maserati MC20 has a top speed of over 321 kph, and its acceleration from 0-100 kph is less than three seconds. It is a two-seater coupe. MC20 mid-engine sports car has a 630-hp twin-turbo V-6. It makes me wonder who the owner of this car is. I am sure that my dad doesn’t own this car. Aside from that, I know that daddy won't spare a time to see me except if he needs something from me. Is he the one behind the wheels?

He knew they wouldn’t be able to resist that. “Even with a jet—Cooper, is this even possible? New York and back?” Cooper cleared his throat. “Well, Horizon’s upgrade on Scott’s hypersonic craft boosted it from Mach 2 to Mach 5. That’s roughly 6,100 kilometers per hour over 2,450 miles of—” “Coop.” Mia’s voice was soft. “In English, please.” Everyone laughed. The tension fractured. “Yes. It’s possible. About forty-five minutes each way.”

Vroom! The loud engine could be heard. Buck drove a modified vehicle capable of reaching speeds up to 800 km/h, while Wilbur drove a regular civilian car with a maximum speed of only 280 km/h. Therefore, even though Wilbur was flooring the accelerator, his car's speed was far slower than Buck's.

The gold bodywork closed in madly—less than half a meter between them—airflow colliding and kicking up sharp gusts. But Amelia had already read it. She flicked the wheel slightly to the right, locking down the inside line with precision and leaving him no space to overtake. Her speed kept climbing; the numbers on the dash jumped—100 mph, 150 mph, 200 mph—and in a blink punched past 250 mph. Wind noise flooded the cockpit, the howl like blades lashing the bodywork with a piercing shriek.

"You should have picked the Bombardier Global 800 instead of this feather crawling at 988 km/h. The former boasts 1235 km/h.” Pride swelled in my chest at his appraisal. My little sage, dismantling the bounty of science. What more could I ask for? His jaw ticked, irritation creeping into his features. I cocked a brow—Mama mode. "You know the difference, Mom?" he asked, lips pursing. I shook my head. "No." He huffed, setting down the tablet and raising two fingers. "Two, Mrs. Crawford. Two hours, seven minutes, and sixteen seconds." His voice dropped. "I should've been home finishing my theory. Thanks, Mom."

According to a hobbyist survey, a regular small aircraft, one that was four to five tons in weight, flew up to 200-300 kilometers per hour, while a large aircraft that was eight to nine tons in weight would fly over 400 kilometers per hour. Based on that, what Javier said about “making you fly” absolutely did not mean 200-300 kilometers per hour because that would be too mediocre. Many luxury cars could have done it, what was more Ferrari or Lamborghini sports cars and whatnot.