Falcon stared in stupefaction at the rows of cars. They were beautiful. He’d never seen anything like them. He ran a hand, tentatively, almost tenderly, along the hood line of a 9-series BMW. Thirty years old—twice as old as him—but it looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line. Any one of these would be worth more money than his whole family would see in their whole lifetime. And there were, what, a dozen of them? He shook his head in awe at all this high-speed engineering in one place.