Feeling the tap on her shoulder, Athena stayed for just a few seconds longer and sent a 7.62 round through a sicario before picking her shit up. Getting up from her prone position nearby, she could momentarily feel the plate carrier's impact on her midsection. She was a bit sore from lying on her belly for so long, but she figured it was better than being shot. Slinging the bag of various weapons and ammunition on her back, she continued to sprint for her life. Feeling stray 9mm bullets strike the trees nearby, Athena lowered her head out of reflex and continued on her merry way back down the hill. The Sicarios were no doubt very mad about the fact that a bunch of their companions were taken out by ghosts in the forest. They were probably coming after them right now, and she was sure that they were carrying weapons heavier than Uzis. AK47s? SPAS-12s? Things that could dispatch Ross and Athena very easily if they were stupid enough to keep where they were.

The assistance of gravity and momentum had helped propelled the police officer toward the Jeep. Sprinting as fast as she could with nearly thirty pounds swinging around on her back had actually done a lot to help her out with her progress toward the Jeep. Ross had managed to get there faster, considering he had less weight on him and had a few seconds to help out with a head start. With loud Spanish chattering behind them, things were getting tighter and tighter by the second. Running as hard as she could, her 5'9" frame doing its best to haul Athena to the Jeep. As soon as Athena saw the vehicle, she pulled the bag off her back and chucked it into the back seat of the Jeep, before hopping into the passenger seat with Ross. Luckily, there was a H&K 416 waiting for her right there. It was a much better alternative to the G28, which was going to be rendered useless given the situation waiting for them.

Chucking the sniper rifle into the backseat, she took the 416 and and pulled the charging handle back just a bit, to verify that there was a round chambered. Putting the rifle against her shoulder, she took a deep breath and and settled against the seat. She put her finger on the trigger and pointed it at the windshield. There were going to be people in front of them, no doubt about it. And her prediction was right, as they turned and faced two angry looking henchmen ready to riddle their jeep full of Uzi rounds. Ross was quick enough to fire off shots from his pistol to dispatch one of the henchmen, but Athena had to clean up the other one. There was no time to aim shots and place them accurately. It was time to leave things fully automatic and hope for the best. Pulling the trigger, the gun kicked against her shoulder significantly as six rounds were fired from the rifle in one long burst.

Watching the henchman drop in one heap, she re-positioned herself to point toward the gate coming up ahead. The closer they were getting, the less it seemed to move. There was no way this car was going to make it through the gate all the way, but she was sure that Ross was also more than aware of that fact. Holding onto the "oh shit handle" next to her, the car collided with the gate. Unfortunately, it didn't do much to it. Feeling the energy finally disperse, she took a deep breath and exhaled, before slipping out of the car. Right now, they were sitting ducks. Sicarios were no doubt about to rush them from behind and in front. Pulling out the 416, she opened the rear door and pulled the bag out, opening it so that its contents were easily accessible and swinging it onto the passenger seat. Additionally, the rear door was going to serve as cover for the inevitable pincer movement that was going to happen. Luckily, this driveway was a choke point, but that meant that they had to defend two sides by themselves, at least until the gate was going to open.

Seeing two Sicarios come up behind them, Athena peeked out the side and fired two three-round bursts into both of them, dispatching them handily. Leaning against the passenger door as cover for her rear, she kept watching the rear flank. There needed to be something done as quick as possible, otherwise Ross and Athena weren't going to last very long.

---

Ellie, in the meantime, had let Mark's words stew in her brain for a bit, before nodding. Great, so she was going to have sneak past all the people and avoid getting shot. She really hoped that she didn't need to use the pistol that was sitting in her pants. How in god's name did she manage to get into a situation like this? The shit that she did for her friends! She was literally putting her life on the line for Ross and Kimberly. If she made it out of this fiasco alive, there was going to be some compensation in order for the both of them. Maybe Ellie could pick the name of their next kid? Why was she even thinking about this with bullets flying around her? She shook her head, before she stepped foot onto the compound.

Seeing the dead body on the ground and the subsequent spray of his blood and bone onto the wall behind him was a grisly scene for Ellie to witness. She tried not to pay the body too much mind -- she just had to repeat the mantra that these were all bad guys and they were only there to hurt her. At least Mark had her back, though. That was something she could rest her anxiety on. He was the big bad man with a rifle watching her every move. Surely with all the people that he's shot, Ellie definitely wasn't going to end up on that list, right? She could only wonder and hope that his next victim wasn't going to be her.

Stepping into the security booth, it was clean and vacant, just like Mark had said. There were also a bunch of screens in front of her, with a view of everything that was happening on the compound. That also included Ross and Athena pinned down at their Jeep at the front gate, and the swarm of Sicarios coming up their way. There was no way that Athena, the one man army that she was, was going to be able to take out all of those people by herself. It was impossible. She had to do something. "Ross! Athena! There's a lot of people coming up your way! I think at least fifteen people!" Ellie yelled, before looking around for something to do. There needed to be an effort. There was a button that was already pressed, which was the alarm button. That was pretty obvious as it is already. However, there was yet another red button on the table, one that had "VERJA" printed on it. Ellie didn't really speak Spanish... but a big red button could only mean one thing.

"I'm going to press this button! I think it's going to open the gate!" Ellie said through the comms. Without taking a second to listen to any protests or remarks, she pounded the button with her fist.

---

Hearing Ellie's very distinctly Scottish voice through the comms, Athena's heart sank. There was no way that this was going to be something they could survive. But damn it, she was going to put up a fight! Peeking out from the door, she fired a few accurate bursts into the first wave of people. Dispatching them quickly, she took another deep breath to prepare for the next wave. There were more coming, and there were going to be more people to take shots at Athena and Ross.

The more time that passed, and the more waves of people that came by, the more it seemed that this was really going to be the end for them. If the Sicarios had half a brain, the duo were in ripe positioning for a successful push. They wouldn't last being pushed from both sides, not with the resources the Sicarios presumably had on this compound. The gun bag could only do so much for two people. There weren't any explosives in there, either. Watching more people turn the corner, she fired a few more shots into them before hearing that sound that she didn't want to hear. It was distinct, it was deadly, it was doom. The magazine was empty and the bolt had locked back. Grunting in frustration, she chucked her 416 back into the car, before pulling out her pistol. It was the only thing she could pull out fast enough to keep the counter-attack going.

Leaning back out, she pointed her P226 at the even stronger wave of Sicarios and fired a few blind shots, before leaning back behind the door. Someway, somehow, the bullets hadn't penetrated the door just yet, and her foot hadn't been shot either. But, that just meant that they had all the more reason to keep coming and shooting, with more pressure. Grimacing, her pistol magazine eventually ran dry. Ejecting the magazine from her pistol, she slapped one inside and racked the slide, before shooting at the Sicarios wildly once again. Suddenly, there was a loud lurch in front of them, which prompted Athena to momentarily stop and turn around. The gate started to move. That meant one thing and one thing only. They HAD to get in there and get into cover quickly. Leaning over, she shoved the gear lever into neutral, before starting to push. "ROSS! The gate is opening!" Athena yelled, before pressing up against the passenger door. She was going to push the car into the compound, getting away from the incoming swarm of Sicarios that only seemed to get bigger.

The door opened just enough to allow the passage of the Jeep and their two former occupants through. As soon Athena and Ross were in the compound, Athena took a moment to swing the the gun bag behind a nearby piece of cover, before rolling out herself and leaving the Jeep halfway through the gate. Athena definitely owed Ellie her life at this point. Her quick thinking had definitely got her out of a sticky situation, and allowed her to get into a more favorable position. Behind some solid cover, Athena took a moment to go through the gun bag, before pulling out what appeared to be a Scorpion Evo 3 SMG. Taking it out, she pulled the charging handle back and pressed up against the wall, aiming at the gate. "What now, Mark?! We're on the compound."

Ross kept up the fire, putting rounds down range but not like the operator that Athena was. He took his time, a little terrified of course that he was being shot at, and having to take a moment to think about what the fuck he was doing. Peeking around, he popped one shot off at a Sicario who took it to the chest, before looking over.
"We're getting eaten alive here!" He yelled across to Athena, as he heard the whine of metal begin to move.
"Shit!" He yelled, pushing on his door as Athena took the lead, Ross using the remainder of his magazine in the Glock to take one more man down that had run into the centre of the compound, armed with another Glock variant himself. The distraction had been good enough to take their eye off the ball, as Ross ran over towards Athena, sliding across the dirt behind the concrete barricade.

"Fucking hell, that was close!" Ross yelled, as he leaned over cover, taking an accurate shot at a couple of men that were on the far left of their sight, by another outbuilding. Two pulls and another had gone down, the mag dry inside the Austrian pistol. Dropping back down, he looked to the gun bag once more, and pulled out the last bulge that sat inside. It was the M4 that they'd brought from earlier on, the same one that Mark had used near the border town. Sliding a 5.56 inside, and taking a few mags with him, he looked to Athena, nodding as he peeked left of his cover, and put rounds down range. Bullets flew past the concrete, the car was riddled with bullet holes but from this position, they had a fighting chance. They were only coming from one way, and had relatively difficult overview onto where they were firing from. Here they could hold, as they knew that the Sicarios were fully aware of where they were.

-------

Emerging on the other side of the fence, Mark watched as the two sicarios ran past, smoothly emerging from the cover and putting two rounds into their heads. He had a surgical accuracy, and up close, he wasn't going to miss, not when he was in this mindset. He had his own work to do, and a professional would sort this problem of Ross's out. While getting what he was looking for.
"Ellie, nicely done. Ross, Athena, hold your position and make sure nobody leaves through the front door. I'll sort out our friends inside. And see if they have what we are looking for. Once we have this squared away, we are out of here." Mark said, Ross sighing as he heard the remark, looking to Athena with a look to say "This is what he's like. " The Marine lived on somewhat in Mark, as he moved through.

"Okay, listen to me carefully. Ellie, stay hidden and keep out of the way. I'm going to need you for something soon, so stay on channel. I'll take care of business." Mark added, moving towards the back of the old villa, the commotion at the front making it easy to sneak inside. And he did, sliding through the back door as he moved through a kitchen of some kind, the place barren. The noise of guns being cocked could be heard in the next room, as Mark moved through, taking a stake knife from a surface as he turned the corner, and grinning.

"Oi, compadres!" Mark yelled, lobbing the heavy kitchen knife straight towards one man's skull, before laying a singular round through the nose of the other, the silenced P226 making short work of the man's temple. He moved fast, two more coming down the stairs as he put five rounds between them, almost completely effortlessly. If Ross was in panic, Mark was in confidence.

Heading up the staircase, he saw one charge through the door, Uzi in hand as the Sicario yelled out. This was one of them. One of the Panamianians. He could tell from the same bitch-ass look on his face, just like Luis's. The sicario raised his hand but Mark was faster, pushing the weapon away as he twisted the man's arm and used it to hurl him away, weapon out of hand and down the stairs, before a 9mm entered his skull too. Uzi in hand, Mark turned the corner and sprayed inside, blindfiring. That would seem strange, but Mark had already seen the glint through the mirror of what was going on, taking out two more men before entering, Sig raised and poised. One of the men screamed on the floor, as he shot him calmly in the head, textbook as ever. One more was in the far end of the large bedroom, covered in blood, with a case at his body.

"You have it." Mark said, completely cold, any personality leaving him and now, only decisive and scalpel-accurate action left.
"Just one case." Mark repeated, shaking his head.
"How many more of your crew are left?" He asked, the man spluttering, having to raise his voice given the Fallujah-style firefight going on outside.

"Fuck you, pendejo!" He spluttered, blood coughing as Mark walked over, gently putting his P226 straight against the wound in his arm, from the Uzi's spray.
"I grazed you, lucky enough. But there's a bullet hole right in your abdomen. You'll die of shock and blood loss in about two hours. Tell me, or you'll find out what it's like to bleed to fucking death, prick." Mark's Scots accent was utterly terrifying, even to this Panamanian crook, who was now realising that the protection of a whole gang of Sicarios was now gone, his crew dead, and a terrifying man about to be a dimebag executioner.

"You know, we didn't want to hurt her, ese. It was just loose ends....there isn't going to be anyone left, you know. But she played the wrong games. Caught in the crossfire, man. Is that what this is about?" He said, spluttering as he chuckled.
"You're in luck....you might as well kill me now, it was just us five. But you have no idea who wants that case, do you. Or what's inside. Are you taking it back to them?" The bleeding man uttered, Mark dragging him against the wall, as he kept an eye on the entrance, his Sig readied if needs be.

"You seemed to be willing to hire a small army to protect it. I take it that it has value. And that means my trip to your shitty villa isn't in vein." Mark replied, as the man chuckled, spluttering more blood.
"And that still wasn't enough, clearly! You could still help me, man. Get me out of here, I'll tell them to stop shooting your friends. Enough people have died or been hurt over this case..." He said, as Mark shook his head.

"No." Mark stood up, as he walked over to the table, case in hand, before looking back at the bleeding man. He took one good look and insight into what this guy had done, what they had gotten up to. They hadn't gone out and fought on the frontline, which was rather odd. Perhaps more a stickup crew, than an armed security detail. They wouldn't get their hands dirty, but here Mark was, killing half a dozen of them to get what he wanted.
"I think......" He added, Mark turning to the man for one last time....

"Not enough." He gently raised his hand, and put the poor bastard out of his misery, the silenced round blasting through his nose and out of the back of his head, as he put the case on the table. This was for Ross's wife. This was for a bunch of difficult Sicarios that wanted to kill his friends. But more than that. This was for something he'd been looking for, wanting to find for a while. Putting hand to ear, he headed to the window, looking out from the far villa down to the front entrance and the carnage ensuing there.

"It's sorted. Ellie, head back the way we came, we've got what we needed. Ross, Athena, I'm going to flank them and give you a chance to get out of here. It seems like it was a small crew of them in here, and they won't be coming back to clean any loose ends."

Hearing Mark bark orders through the radio had given Athena and Ross a better idea what to do. Fortifying themselves and cleaning everyone up while he did god-knew-what in that building up there. Looking back at Ross, Athena raised an eyebrow, before peeking out from the right side of her cover to spray some 9mm rounds downrange. There wasn't much ammunition for this gun in the bag nor on her person. She had 9mm rounds on her, but there was no way that she was going to be able to transfer the rounds quick enough between the magazines. Worst case scenario, when she ran out of ammo, she ditched the gun for another. There were a lot of guns in that bag, but hopefully they were going to be enough to fend off all of these people. Peeking out once again, Athena fired an accurate three round burst from her gun before retreating behind cover once again. Conveniently, the magazine was translucent, granting Athena a much easier way of keeping track of the bullets inside of her magazine.

Eventually, the 30 round magazine of the Czech-made weapon became completely dry, and at that point Athena had to slap in the remaining magazine for that gun, trying to keep up the constant rate of fire to keep those Sicarios back. Now that they were in a more favorable position, it was easier to keep these people back. Now the path that they were coming up had become a funnel of death. They were behind a sturdy piece of cover that was nigh-invulnerable to the smaller arms that the sicarios were carrying. They had nowhere to go other than back the way they came, as if they came up any further the driveway, they were going to be receiving a 5.56mm or 9mm round for their efforts. Eventually, the magazine ran dry again and Athena was forced to ditch the gun. Dropping the now useless weapon, she dove into the bag to find something to use. It didn't matter what it was, just as long as there was ammunition for it.

She pulled out a Saiga 12, and three magazines with what appeared to be slug shells. A small smile formed on Athena's face, as she realized she could seriously fuck some people up with a weapon like the Saiga 12. Inserting the magazine in the gun, she chambered a round before she emerged from cover, aiming downrange and watching all the poor Sicarios that were about to eat some rounds run straight at her. Pulling the trigger, the gun kicked hard as it spat the slug from the barrel, immediately taking a Sicario down with it before Athena snapped to the next target, repeating the same procedure. It was satisfying to have a more useful weapon, even if the magazine size wasn't as high as the SMG she had been wielding earlier.

In the meantime, Ellie, after watching Ross and Athena get themselves to safety, had also listened to what Mark said and was going to follow his directive to the T. Back the way they came, eh? That wasn't as bad as what Athena and Ross were dealing with. All she had to do was to haul ass outside of the compound and hope to god that she didn't catch a bullet on the way. Seemed simple enough, right? Slowly making her way out of the security booth, she could see people running for dear life in various directions. They were more than too busy with dealing with Mark and Ross and Athena to pay the 6'0" Scottish-Canadian girl any mind. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins -- but it wasn't the same kind of adrenaline that she would get from skydiving. No. This was the kind of adrenaline that soldiers and police officers faced -- it wasn't something Ellie had dealt with before. Her senses were heightened, and the "flight or fight" reaction was at its peak as she darted from the security booth and back the way she came.

The sheer size of the compound was rather disorienting, but she figured with the dead body and his brains on the wall, she should be able to find her way back through the hole that she came through. It seemed like whatever Mark needed to get done had been done and now she just needed to make her way back to outside perimeter. The only problem that was on the agenda was extraction, but she figured Mark must have had something planned. Her trip back out the compound was safe. Nobody saw her, let alone had even the slightest idea that she had even been on the compound. It was clear as far as the eye could see, save for the distant gunfire that might as well have been straight out of Fallujah. "I'm good! I'm clear!" Ellie said into comms, before finding herself somewhere behind a rock, keeping herself safe for the time being.

Upon finding out that Ellie was safe, Athena decided it was time to get away. Their ammunition was dwindling by the second, and Athena had resorted to going back to her G28 after expending the last of the shells. Luckily, Athena had discovered that there was a smoke grenade in the bag, which had played into her plan quite nicely. A quick toss and pop of the smoke would provide enough cover for them to run away and get somewhere safer. "Scratch that, Mark! We'll make our own extraction. Meet us at Ellie's." With that, Athena grabbed the smoke grenade and pulled the pin, before turning to her brother in law. "As soon as you see the smoke fill in, you run like hell." Athena then put her hand up to her earpiece, activating the mic, "Ellie - where'd you come in through? We'll meet you there."

Sitting against the rock, Ellie was startled when she heard Athena come in through the comms. "Uh... not sure. There's a booth and a dead body nearby. That's all I know. His brains are kinda on the wall..." Ellie muttered, before coming off the comms, "There's a hole though, it's not hard to miss." She replied. "Thanks, Ellie." Athena said, before chucking the smoke grenade at a distance. Landing right in the middle of the driveway, the two were soon obfuscated by the smoke. "Let's go, Ross!" Athena yelled, before getting up and making her way away from the car and the previous cover. By the time the smoke would dissipate, the two would be long gone and be nowhere to be seen. There was no point in carrying the sack of weapons anymore. The ammo had been spent and everything that could have been used was used.

Running along the perimeter, eventually Athena found the aforementioned dead body and the brains splattered against the wall, before she found the hole in the wall that Ellie was talking about. For someone who had never done something like this before, she sure had a knack for being able to find exploits and get out rather cleanly. Athena doubted that the body was her doing as well, there was no way she could kill someone that cleanly. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out through the hole, making sure Ross was behind her. There seemed to be nobody for miles, which was good. "Ellie? You around here?"

The Scottish-Canadian girl's ears perked up as she heard her being called for, "Yeah, I'm right here!" She rose up from the rock, her pistol in hand to make sure it was actually them. It was, and it was only them. Mark was probably on his way over -- but in the meantime, Ellie could relish in the fact that this was all over. Athena sighed and sat back against the rock, waiting for Mark to get over to them so that they could finally exfiltrate and leave this situation in their dust once and for all.

---

After it was all said and done, the group found themselves at a small airport not too far away from the compound. Some coercion was in order to secure a means of transport and make sure that they had a way to transport themselves. The Jeep was too far gone and too bullet riddled to use, so for the time being they simply borrowed another vehicle to make their way back to the airport, where their extraction was due to take place. Everything had been planned out prior, and at this point they were about to put a pretty red bowtie on the Rossi Family's retribution. There was no way they would be coming back from something like this, and everyone knew that they didn't want to do this again either.

Athena, free from the weight that was her plate carrier, had taken a deep breath as she leaned against the car, waiting for the airplane to be readied up. Ross and Ellie had fucked off elsewhere and they were doing whatever they were doing after such an operation. If they were sleeping, they deserved it. They'd seen some shit and no doubt been through a lot - they definitely more than deserved the rest that they were getting. Athena and Mark, on the other hand, were doing something else. They weren't exactly cut from the same cloth, considering that one was a former special operations operative and the other one a highly trained police officer, but the both of them understood what it was like after such a strenuous operation. It was kind of a weird bond between the two, despite the fact that the both of them dealt in the polar opposite areas of the law.

Athena, rolling her shoulder, had looked at Mark curiously, watching him do whatever he was doing. She cleared her throat, looking up at him. "So... what's next for you? Now that this is all over - where are you gonna be? Back to Europe - doing god knows what?"

---

---

It was a calm, late summer evening in Southern California. The sun was still peeking over the horizon, painting the skyline in a beautiful shade of pink and yellow. Nothing could be heard besides the tranquil sounds of cars passing by and a zephyr making its way through the palm trees that seemed to line every single street in this area. The street lights dimly lit the pavement, providing those who walked its way with a light, despite the biggest source of light still being in the sky.

There was nothing but peace and serenity in this quiet little suburb of Southern California. There was nothing that could disturb the quiet scene that was set in front of them. That was, until the soft sounds of rapid footsteps suddenly emitted from within. "Mommy, mommy! Look!" A little girl not much older than five years old had emerged out into the open, along with a German Shepherd which had something in its mouth. She had a happy look on her face, as the dog followed her, "Look what Ruby found!"

A figure shifted in their chair, before turning and letting the light reveal her face. Her piercing blue eyes looked over at the girl and the dog, nothing being said from her before she stood up and stepped a little closer. The light revealed her blonde hair, and her nose ring glistened against the bright lights as she bent down and looked at what the child and dog had brought her. Upon closer inspection, it was a piston. The silver shined against the light as well, matching the female figure's nose ring as she bent down and looked closer. The woman looked over the piston, before putting a hand on it and lightly tugging.

The German Shepherd quickly obliged, letting go of the engine component before the woman held it in her hand. "What are you guys looking at? Get back inside, it's almost time for dinner!" She smiled, before ushering them back in. The little girl smiled, before she darted back inside with the dog. Laughing gently to herself, she held the piston gingerly in her hand, as she walked inside her house. The smell of a slow-cooked lasagna filled the woman's lungs, and the sounds of laughter and joy filled her ears as she closed the door behind her, making her presence known in the room.

Kimberly Rossi, on the cusp of her thirties, had come a long way since what had happened in Las Vegas. It didn't seem like that long ago when she was barely recovering from the tens of surgeries that she had to undergo to keep her alive, and the months of physical therapy she had to undergo to regain her basic functions and get back to being at least a part of who she was. It was painful and rough, but Kimberly persevered. As much as she would have wanted, she couldn't get back to who she was before the incident. Needless to say, the woman had lost a step since the accident. She was no longer the hyperathletic woman she was prior to the accident. No longer could she change directions in a blink of an eye or jump high enough to dunk. She was lucky enough to be alive, let alone be able to run.

Additionally, there was the fact that Kimberly had a second child since then. Having to deal with recovery and pregnancy at the same time was, without a doubt, one of the hardest things she had to do in her life. But, she did it. She gave birth to a beautiful, surprisingly healthy baby girl later that year. Even though she was still confined to a wheelchair for the most part, the pain and suffering was more than worth it to see her baby girls grow up and become the people that they are today. Kimberly, more importantly, had given up the driving fast lifestyle she had prior to the incident. Once she was standing and had full control of her legs, she didn't want to be involved in that scene anymore. She had battled for her life because of her skills, and the prospect of dying and leaving her kids without their mother was more than enough to give up the racing.

That didn't mean she was totally disconnected from the scene, however. Kimberly, instead, was hired on by a prestigious tuning company to oversee her own branch, which meant she was able to run things the way she wanted and hired the people she wanted. Kimberly was the head engineer of the entire thing, but she barely did any actual engineering as everyone else was more than qualified to handle those tasks. The woman's days were vastly different than those five years prior. The time that was originally used for street racing and car meets was swapped for spending time with her daughters and making sure that her body was getting stronger and stronger.

However, just because you took the girl out of the race, doesn't mean the race in the girl was gone.

Kimberly sat at the dinner counter, positioned so that she could see into the garage. In it sat her Nissan Skyline GT-R, the same one that she had met her husband in and took all over the world. It was far too valuable for her to let go of, as much as she didn't use it anymore. Kimberly these days drove a more conservative, family oriented Audi Q8. It was perfect for trucking her kids around and taking to work and errands. But for whatever reason, tonight, she had a weird itch she just couldn't scratch. She couldn't look away from Godzilla.

"Babe... do you ever have the urge to start.... driving again? I don't mean the driving we do... but driving driving. You know what I'm saying? The type of driving that brought us together..."

---

---

Since the incident in Mexico, Ellie hadn't quite been the same. After seeing some dead bodies, it took some time for her to be able to process what had happened. Eventually she came to terms with it and had managed to overcome it. Nobody, not even Seb, had gotten to know what actually happened in Mexico. But that didn't matter. The biggest focus for her since that was most definitely the growth of her channel. The years between then and now had caused her channel to explode in popularity. One hit after another, it was like she had struck the YouTube gold-mine. She had forty million subscribers and counting, all wanting to see her extreme sport hijinks and how a girl as cool as her lived every day.

Today was one of those days that her fans would be able to see what that was like. The sun was setting, which created a beautiful scene for their upcoming shoot. They had hiked for hours and hours on end to the top of this mountain. Wingsuit gear on, they were getting ready to carve the fuck out of the Rocky Mountains. Because they had been so successful, they were also able to afford a lot more. There were more crews around, and more sophisticated equipment around to make sure that their shots were as cool as possible, such as slow-motion cameras and drones that followed them around.

Ellie smiled as she looked at Seb, securing her wingsuit gear as she got ready to start the shoot and leap off the cliffside. "You ready, babe?" She smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek. "This is gonna be our coolest shoot yet."

---

Forge was a thing of the past. Somewhere down the line, negotiations had soured and Ryan and Gina were no longer associated with the racing team. They had decided to take their talents to another team, who was more than willing to give them whatever they wanted, including the advice of one of the smartest minds in the racing world. Even though she wasn't exactly racing anymore, her presence was more than appreciated when figuring out setups and configurations to squeeze out those tenths of a second that were so valuable in the racing world. Gone was the Audi R8 LMS and in was the Acura NSX GT3. It was a far superior car to the Audi R8, Gina found.

Right now they were getting ready for an event tonight. There were cars all over the place and plenty of people who had come to watch them. It was Ryan and Gina's first season underneath this new team - and overall the first season this whole team was going to be at the event. Needless to say, all eyes were on them as they were headed up against Forge Motorsports, their old team, in their return to this racing scene. The world wanted to see if Gina and Ryan were truly talented, or if they were just a bunch of frauds made by Forge.

Currently, Gina was sitting on a couch, her black helmet in hand as she looked up at the ceiling, where a map of Sonoma Raceway had been put as per her request, and she was mimicking the footwork she needed to get through the course as fast as she could. It was a little weird... but it worked.

Somewhere in Southern Baja

The insanity had come to a close, as Mark smoked a cigarette, gently taking a draw as the light aircraft lifted off the ground, the Caravan taking Ross and Ellie out of there at the teeny airport. Mark had to say, it was strange to be back in business like this. He was a greedy bastard, after all. But perhaps there was something underneath it all, something that gave him a purpose to it all. On the sunset sky that filled the sky of Baja Sud, sitting in the shade of the teeny little crapshack they were outside.

He had to think how it had gone down. He'd set up some fire at the front and given them an opportunity to slip away, and then he did. Ross had followed Athena, to the letter, and kept up the fire. And Ellie had gotten out. After they'd found a car further down the road in another villa, they'd gotten out, and left no trail that could be traced. There were a lot of dead bodies, and all of them meant that the line was cut. The anchor was gone. Whoever had done this, was dead as a doornail. Mark had seen to it very personally.

Mark heard Athena walk up behind him, as he slowly turned in his plastic chair, case in hand.

"Well, I'm taking this away. For starters. But then, I don't know. There's a lot of questions we didn't ask each other still, I think partly as we're far too polite." Mark added, as he stood up, looking up at the aircraft, watching it fully lift away into the horizon, getting further and further. Mark had to wonder how much he had really said to anyone, at this point. The underworld criminal, the scumbag who was like John Wick and killed people like it was nobody's business. Heading over to his other case on the table he sat by, his Sig inside, he looked back up at her.

"Athena, I have a question for you. Maybe let's just say we should clear the air on this." He asked, knowing he'd pique her interest.

"Did you look up my service history? My medals? What I did as a Royal Marine, a decade ago?" He asked, shaking his head, taking in Athena once more.
"I looked you up. You are good at your job. Several years of service, the model operator. You follow authority, procedure, paperwork, saving lives, not ending them. Cops do that. You follow the rules and make it work. I have a very healthy respect for that." Mark said, nodding, the ginger-bearded bald man unwavering in his Scots accent, more so than even Ross.

"And you did look me up. And you found that thing that really annoyed me too. Dishonourable Discharge, in 2008. I broke a Lt Colonel's nose on a training exercise because he bent the rules and they...did not like that. It seems really strange that they let someone who seems to have no remorse, no moral boundaries or concern for the standards of the higher ups." Mark looked onto the horizon, then back at her.

"What happened after that? Strange that it seems so....quiet, right?" He asked, knowing what the response would be. Nothing did. He went blank, seemingly self-employed into what any man of his repute would. He had a Linkdin, for crying out loud. PMCs, Security, Consulting. Boring, shitty jobs. Perhaps she'd say the other thing. Being a hardened criminal, robbing and stealing and taking scores, and having Ross as his main getaway driver. But Mark, to his credit, knew that Athena was not Ross. A man he had trusted for almost half a decade, if not more wasn't going to hear this. Best it was kept that way.

"Well....Athena, you may think of me as a criminal. I'm a greedy fucker by tool and trade. That's what you would expect of someone like me. I wanted to help my friend when he needed it, so that added fuel to the fire when I saw that there was a co-benefit in my favour too. Right?" Mark shook his head, gently patting the case.

"Except, I do serve someone. I can't tell you who I work for. It has a lot of redacted on it anyway. What I do was the only way to find out about transnational criminal networks, far, far bigger than just some crappy little gang of thieves. A Transnational Facilitator, or TNC for short. The criminal organisations that are your full-fat criminal organisations, think your multinational corporation but with guns and drugs. The kind that corrupts third world governments, and can create rogue states, if they don't already. Way above your paygrade, believe me. It helps when you have the right mask on, and don't play by the rules. Makes you seem like ideal cannon fodder." He added, chucking the cigarette onto the floor with a light chuckle, and gently rubbing his boot against it.

"A similar incident happened in Paris, but the case got delivered. Ross and Kimberly got caught up in the crossfire. The Panamanians wanted to ship it to the first bidder that wanted it so they could scalp a lot of people. A routine, clandestine transfer of tracking equipment used to monitor a number of individuals at two separate meetings on two separate continents. The people I work for that made the move didn't have many choices there and then for how they did it, so street racers were their best bet. Well, it was their best bet, till it turns out that somebody fucking leaked. Someone that they're going to probably throw in prison very soon indeed. Poor bastards suddenly have their trousers pulled down. So naturally, they wanted their cases back." Mark added, patting it once more.

"They thought all hope was lost till we found a lead. And when Ross called, it seemed too inconvenient not to let him join in. Not when I knew just how deep he was. It was risky to talk, especially after I'd cut him out of the system. Indirectly, I was always watching, always knowing what he's up to. The amount of fines he's racked up on an illegally fraudulent account is genuinely staggering. Anyway.....he wanted revenge. And revenge is a powerful motivator. One that I knew he'd want me on board for, his trusted friend. It brought you here too. And you had to know that I was the wrong kind of scumbag with the wrong kind of connections to even consider coming here. Giving that up would be dangerous, after all." He could see the anger on Athena's face, as he looked up, clarifying it quickly.

"I suppose owed Ross a favour too, after....well, Ross was hugely useful to me as an asset, driving faster than anyone, cop or criminal could get him. Thing is.....he didn't even know. Robbing, racing and stealing shit to him was all he knew. And he was good, deep down. Just has a passion for going fast and well, what he is involved in isn't exactly big-time. Not my operation to catch. He's not worth the hassle. Neither is Kimberly. They'll be fine, and I know that from knowing the lad. It's best that they never do know...if they did, it's only gonna get more messy." He added, checking his watch, and looking back to Athena.

"The point I'm trying to make here is, this is bigger than you think. Getting this sorted works for a lot of people. Us too. The organisation we are tracking works in Central Asia, for fuck's sake. And a bunch of Panamanian thieves nearly gave them our monitored recordings of them, if they'd have even known. This organisation has its tentacles in things from as diverse as supplying guns to Islamic terrorist cells in exchange for heroin in Afghanistan, distributing ecstasy in Western Europe, to creating political corruption in Bulgaria and running human trafficking networks in Mali. All connected through smaller organisations, but ultimately, creating a network that fuels crime on a scale you won't believe. There's people richer, dirtier, and more fucked up than you can believe. This isn't the Mafia. This is a crime organisation that works on the same metrics as Apple here." He said, pausing momentarily.

"I'm telling you this because you're a cop. You want to do the right thing, and you have rules, logic, procedure, paperwork. You take down criminals that you see and want to make the right call. I deal in the ones that you don't even know exist. And that means we do things on a very different scale. A scale that requires a mask so watertight, it makes you more than a bad guy. It makes you the scary bastard that fits every single picture, that these people haven't paid off or killed yet because they don't even know you're coming for them. I don't work often well with other people. But you, Athena, I respect. I might need you again someday. And I will contact you if that time comes." Mark added, the noise of the plane engine now fully gone, as he stood up, taking case in hand.

"I'm going to drive out of here. There's a domestic flight arriving in about half an hour, flies to Mexico City. I'd recommend you take a link to Newark after that." Mark took the other case, shaking his head, standing up as he headed to the car, turning his head. He was blunt as ever, and felt like he cared for Athena. In some weird way, he felt like it was a strange twist for her to hear, after what he had projected. But after the others had left, perhaps only something felt right, felt comfortable here and now, to tell her what he thought.

"What I just told you is strictly confidential. You do not tell anyone what I just said. Mostly because it'll make you sound like a raving loony and none of the evidence will really fit. Partly because your record is so good, I don't want you being pulled up when they ask why the hell you went and shot up a Mexican villa with a suspected armed robber. You are a smart girl, Athena. Someone who helps people more than you think....so I don't think we'll have any problems with that, aye?" Mark said, chuckling, taking his pack from off the table, and the keys for the Jeep Cherokee that they'd stolen to get here.

"Goodbye, Athena." He added, unlocking the car as he opened the passenger door, throwing his bag and cases inside, before getting in. He'd made his goodbyes. Now, he was going for a long drive into the sunset. And done his bit. Perhaps it would have come as a bit of a bombshell to her. Sitting there, near that airport confused as hell. Not a clue what the hell had just happened. But Mark had played even someone he'd known for half a decade, pretty much everyone. At that point in time, the criminal that had gone and killed an awful lot of people was leaving.

"Not enough", he reminded himself. That was because contrary to his calm demeanour, that the case didn't matter, it did. And if they'd have lost it, no doubt the Panamanians would have been dead in a matter of days anyway. The Cartel would have sold them up shit creek when they realised, and the trace they had on Ross and Kimberly could have been worse. That wasn't going to happen. As he set off on the dusky tarmac road, he thought what he had really done. Ross, Kimberly, Ellie, Seb, Athena, Michael, shit, all of it was out of the picture now. They could live their lives, like nothing happened, and be completely unaware of the boogeyman that they had nearly ended up with.

And yet here he was, thinking to himself, wondering just how to go on. There was more shit he had to do back home, more leads to follow. Maybe the underworld that thought he was doing this for his own greedy needs. To do a sale himself and Ross was probably thinking that right now. Ironically, that was exactly the point. This case was a MacGuffin that would actually bring out who they was looking for, recovering and yet exposing a paw of the TNC that they were hunting down. And that was worth far more than any money, any small-time gang, anything. It was substantive, real and a chance to put some bastards away in The Hague even. Somehow, this whole operation had gone exactly as it needed to, and Mark's own criminal connections had primed the trap in only a way a masterful chess player could compare to, without even knowing. And yet Mark wouldn't even be rumbled, if anything, it'd reinforce him. And if successful, Mark knew that this was the beginning of the end for an operation that had gone beyond just him, lasting almost a decade and a half. This was the end of those evil bastards. Only way to do that was carry on being the bad guy that the bad guys fear.

--------------------

Part Eight: Reunion

Los Angeles, California

Ross had been busy working in the garage. The truth was, that after Mexico things had calmed down. Mark had called, and he had gone back to England, seemingly back to his life and whatever he did now. Ross didn't ask any questions, but had more thanks than he could give. He didn't ask questions, and he didn't expect any answers.

He was happy just to be back with Kimberly, back with family and what mattered. No more criminality or gangs or anything like that. He was a stay at home dad, helping his wife at her work when she needed a technical mind, and running errands here and there too. Part of him of course felt uncomfortable. In some ways, he felt a little useless, he couldn't do the things she did. Not that he wasn't capable, but well....he came from a very different background. And with the skills he had, he couldn't really go and get a perfectly legal job, not when he had a family. So he found his own way. Tinkering on things, looking after his little bundles of joy and relaxing felt like the way to be, especially after the hell they had gone through.

Looking after Kimberly had been an enormous challenge to him. It was a lot more than hospital runs and physiotherapy. It was a lot he had to learn, and he had changed dramatically for it. A lot for the better, he thought. And well, it had taken a toll on him. He didn't take risks as much, he was calmer and seemed to have grown a different kind of charm. The kind that wanted nothing to do with danger but everything to do with doing better than who he was before. Adjusting to this normal, that he could do.

Coming in for food, he felt Ruby run up to him, woofing as Ross chuckled, almost having the dog jump up onto him, slobbering. He was a very intelligent dog, but he was a puppy at heart, so young and little. The smell of Lasagna was wonderful, as Ross took a seat, the plate ready. She cooked a mean feast, he reminded himself, as he tucked in, chuckling as he saw Kimberly look.
"I think I know exactly what you're saying. But the kids aren't going to look after themselves, are they?" He giggled, Mia almost understanding Kimberly's look, that look of "speed" screaming out. Ross sighed, looking through his restricted angle into the garage.
"Hmm.....think your sister can pop by?"

-----------------

Somewhere above Lake Tahoe, The Rockies, Nevada
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlS6JQ0w5o4
OST- Ride or Die - The Knocks ft Foster the People

Seb looked over, chuckling as he heard Ellie kit up. He'd lost a little more hair in the time, and spent a lot more climbing and freeskiing, rather than doing this. Sitting in a mostly black wingsuit, with light blue accents on the tail and zips, he seemed tanned, adjusting to the beating sunset in the distance.

Seb had to think how it had all played out. Ellie and him had argued, argued like hell and it wasn't fun at all. He couldn't talk to her for months, and he could see she was pretty visibly messed up, even from afar. Something at first- not like she'd been injured or seen someone else get hurt, but more like she had an uncomfortable gaze, one that stuck with him. They'd stayed away, done their own things, and his end had been strangely quiet. Almost weirdly more than usual, given he spent a lot of time travelling, and he'd travelled far and wide. Australia, Asia, remote parts of Greece, mostly for just calm and quiet. He felt like it was needed, given him and Ellie had been so close. Like best friends, but more. He'd watched two friends of his own die in a BASE accident, and whilst it didn't stop him, it had seriously taken him aback. And he travelled, and travelled, skiing, surfing, diving, doing whatever. The sponsors stopped calling after they realised he wasn't taking their calls. In some strange way, Seb had gone and had a gap year.

Till he came back, that is. One day, it flicked back on in his head. Footage started going. He contacted Ellie, and got things back together. Said sorry. For all the horrible shit he said, and wanted it back the way it was. Not out of desperation, out of a lack of money, or anything. But because in spite of it all, he didn't want to carry on living without the only person that really mattered. She looked like she had been through a lot too. And in that way, they could get it back together. Perhaps it was a test of their relationship. But while Ellie never told him, Seb didn't feel he really needed to ask. It was things way beyond his control, way beyond everything. He'd seen his own shit, but he knew somehow, it wasn't the same thing.

And after a few videos, they were back on it again. Things were normal. It felt like a new normal, if that, but it was normal. Jumping off cliffs, skiing in the winter, it was awesome. And right here now at sunset, the run down to Lake Tahoe seemed incredible, if not dramatic. Taking his open face helmet, Seb put it on his noggin, the black helmet and navy blue-tinted goggles going over his eyes, as he adjusted the chest stap on his rig, looking to Ellie.
"Nearly. Just give me a look over?" He asked, spreading his arms and legs, the suit new from the sponsorship windfall they'd made. GoPro were back on board, which was always an exiting prospect. They always loved an exiting project, and Seb and Ellie were always keen to get involved. Grinning at her, he gave her a brief check, nodding.
"I think we're all good then." He pecked her back on the cheek, looking back at one of the cameramen, who was getting into position.
"Don't." He chuckled, Seb's comic timing as good as ever, as he looked back at the edge, stepping down gently as he got his own camera gear set up.

"I'm all good. Drone follows us off but won't even come close to catching us up. Good push and we'll be clear of that ledge below us. DZ's in that clearing there, remember. We've got a thin landing area between the trees, but winds are nice. You have the lead, m'lady. They are live." Seb added, gently patting her on the butt, knowing he was getting the shit slapped out of him when they got down, as he finalised his last zip.
"On your go...." He added, watching her and letting her start this all off.

-----------------

Sonoma Raceway

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exbmKes0IM8
OST- Be Here Now (Fred V and Grafix Remix) - Hybrid

The NSX sat in mostly green and white, an impressive GT3 car to say the least. The Castrol-liveried GT3 machine was fine, and a proven breed. A 1.2 tonne machine with 500 horses, out of a 3.5L turbocharged V6 was a scary tool and under throttle, Ryan had felt it too. Honda, Acura, same thing he had to remind himself. But under it all, it was a fierce machine. Practice had proven that. With a white and green helmet in hand, and a appropriately liveried race suit, the Brit felt confident to make that machine fly, in the way he knew how to. And the best part of this team....well, the best part of Forge that was, had also come along.

"Ryan, she's set to go. You and Gina are on evens here. Upper brass want to see podiums here in this series. With a car like this, it's way ahead of what we had before, eh?" The Canadian added, Lucas as chirpy as ever, Ryan nodding.

"Yup. Grips absolutely peachy. Let's see what we can get sorted in qualifying." He replied, looking across to Gina, still in her zone. He didn't interrupt her. He had been there, in that position on that bit of the sofa in front of the map doing just the same thing. Taking his white balaclava and Simpson helmet, he gently started to get himself prepared, feeling the heat beat down in the afternoon sun outside.
"Good stuff. I'll be on the comms. You should have a nice window- remember, get the tyres bedded in and don't push this thing too quick. The aero's really well dialled in, so you'll have a lot more grip at speed...almost seems like the car is way better to setup here." Lucas added, Ryan nodding, patting his car. #42, McKay. Back to what he did best.

The information that Athena had just received had come across as a shock to her. She knew that Mark was a criminal, but she didn't know to what extent he was a criminal. Honestly, Mark was lucky that they were a far way from New York City, because just that admission alone would've prompted her to take action and put him and handcuffs. But they weren't. Athena couldn't do anything to Mark, even if she wanted to. As a sworn police officer of the law, she had a set of principles and laws that she was bound to. At least, when it had to do with the state of New York. But they weren't in New York.

As a matter of fact, Athena was just as guilty of crime as Mark was. No doubt the little operation that they just carried out was just as illegal as everything else in Mark's rap sheet. She realized she couldn't really say anything. Hopefully nobody was able to identify her, because she would be getting into some SERIOUS trouble if she did. Before she could really say anything back to Mark, he was gone. He had gotten in and disappeared. He was gone like the wind before the police officer could even formulate an answer. She was left bewildered. There were so many questions to think of.

Why trust her with that sort of information? Was he doing her some sort of favor? He knew damn well that she was a police officer and that she was going to do something about it. The motivation wasn't clear, but seeing as she had plenty of time ahead of her, she was going to do her due diligence. Might as well, right?

Only time would be able to tell what was to come of this information.

---

The prospect was tempting. Despite not doing it for over a year at this point, Mia knew full well what having her aunt come over meant. Usually when her aunt came over, that meant her mom was going out and most likely driving her car super fast. Mia didn’t really pay attention to it though, partially because she didn’t consider her mommy driving cars super fast to be a particular sin and also because having her aunt over was a fun time. Kimberly also knew that she knew what it meant, glancing at the little brown-haired girl who was stabbing at the lasagna with her fork. Kimberly put a hand up to her chin, rubbing it idly as she thought. Her eyes darted between her daughters, who were both eating their lasagna, happy as can be. Monica, the younger girl, was having a tougher time since she wasn't as proficient with utensils as he older sister was. It was going to be a hassle to clean her up afterwards, considering the girl's attitude toward getting cleaned up. Guess she got her father's tenacity.

Tapping her foot idly, Kimberly prodded at her lasagna once again. The Skyline needed to stretch its legs. Since she had regained the ability to drive, the car had been relegated to something of a daily driver. Very rarely was it able to flex its muscles and utilize all of its power. It was mostly just a commuter and something to get her to work and back, and maybe grab some groceries once in a while. She honestly didn’t know why she still had the car at this point. It would’ve been much cheaper and much more practical to sell her car and get something else, but something in her prohibited her from doing so. The Italian just couldn’t figure out what was holding her back, though.

Biting her lip, she looked down at her phone. It lit up with a picture of her family at a natural park of sorts. Kimberly tapped her fingers on the countertop, before swiping on her phone and tapping her pin code in. Her decision had been made -- and it wasn’t long until she pulled up her the conversation with her sister.

“I’ll see.”

_{Kimberly Rossi}
”Hey, you think you can come over here in about fifteen minutes? I’m gonna go out.”



A small smile flashed on Kimberly face when she saw her sister agree to watch the kids for the night. “Guess she’s coming over in a bit.” Kimberly raised her eyebrows, before turning to her two daughters, “Hey, guys. Aunt Sarah is gonna come over in a bit and watch you guys, alright?” She said sweetly, taking a moment to tussle her daughter’s hair. They both looked at each other and shrugged.

About fifteen minutes had passed, and Kimberly’s beloved sister, Sarah had finally popped over to their house and greeted the kids. She was met with a warm reception and a toddler tsunami had overcome her, knocking her to the ground with their hugs. Once she was back on her feet, she cleared her throat and looked to Kimberly, who had slipped into something a little more appropriate for driving. A gray crewneck sweater and a pair of leggings sufficed, as well as a pair of Jordan 1s in her favorite colorway.

Before Kimberly set off, the elder Rossi sister took a moment to pull Kimberly aside. “You sure about this? It hasn’t really been that long…” Sarah whispered, before waiting for her sister’s response. “Yeah. Worst case scenario I never do this again.” Kimberly shrugged, “It won’t hurt. I never crash.” Sarah was about to interject, but Kimberly raised a finger, “I was crashed into. There’s a difference.”
Sarah sighed and shook her head. “Whatever you say. Just… stay safe, okay? I don’t need to remind you why.”

Kimberly nodded, before opening the door to the garage. “Always.”

Closing the door behind her, she could hear the distant sound of giggling behind her, before Kimberly cleared her throat and unlocked her car. Sitting inside the bucket seat, she took a deep breath, before taking the key and twisting it to turn it on. The six cylinder engine came to life, sending a giant vibration through the garage as she gave it a couple of revs. It felt so weird to her right now, knowing that she would be pushing this car to the limit once again.

Rolling the window down, she poked her head out in search of her husband.

“Babe… you ready?”

---

Ellie nodded and complied with Seb’s request. Checking his gear, she knew that he mostly had it down. Still, it didn’t hurt to double check. It was better to be extra safe than sorry -- especially in this line of work. After making sure every strap was pulled and things that were supposed to be secure were secured -- she gave a thumbs up. Seb was ready to fly off a cliff and carve it with his wingsuit. Giving a thumbs up, she received the peck from Seb and smiled softly, before reaching down to grab her own white helmet.

Securing it and making sure it won’t fall off while she became a bird for a few minutes, she pulled on it slightly to make sure that it wouldn’t pop off. Again, better safe than sorry. She turned around and looked down. The mountains were ripe for carving, despite it being summer. There was no snow -- just the dark face of the mountain. On one side, at least it warmer, but falls were going to be much nastier. But it was just the reality of being in a dangerous sport like this. Sometimes -- you just didn’t know what was going to happen, and when shit hit the fan -- shit REALLY hit the fan.

Preparing herself, the only words that she heard were the ones that gave her permission to kick things off. The slap on the ass was rather unnecessary, and Seb was definitely going to get chewed out afterwards. But for right now, Ellie needed to focus. She needed to get this sorted out and organized so that they could have the smoothest session. Taking a deep breath, she let gravity take effect as she stepped off the cliff, falling into a descent.

It was time.

---

Gina’s attention snapped from the map and onto Ryan as they mentioned something about qualifying. “Qualifying? It’s not qualifying. This is just a testing event. Season isn’t even starting until way later, dude. Right now we need to get our cars set up.” She remarked, sighing and taking her helmet. The true season wasn’t due to start until later. Right now was an organization sanctioned event where they could test their cars and stretch their legs. Many other constructors were around for the same. Plenty of Audi R8s, Ferrari 488s, McLarens, and other GT3 cars were around here.

Glancing at the clock, it was almost time for them to make their debut for the season. The stands were packed, eager to see the cars for the first time this year. There was a bunch of hype garnered behind the debut of Ryan and Gina in new cars. The two had gained popularity after terrorizing the league with their Audi R8s, and now in a completely different car, the entire racing world had their eyes on what they were going to do (as well as where Daniel Ricciardo was headed after the 2018 F1 season and Fernando Alonso’s future, but let’s not get into that)

A few minutes’ time and Gina was in her outlap. Rounding around turn 12, she was about to push the card as hard as possible on the soft tires. The goal was to see how the car behaved and tailor it to Gina’s particular driving style. Going onto the final straight, Gina swerved the car again to put some heat into the tires before making the push.

Crossing the line -- Gina absolutely FLOORED it, letting the V6 bellow as she shot down the beginning straight. Hopefully Ryan wasn’t having any difficulty with his car, because already this car was feeling great for Gina.

---------

LA

Ross chuckled, greeting Sarah and hugging so much it almost hurt his ribs, glad to see her again. It felt strange, not being as connected to his family back of home, to be here and enjoying it with Kimberly's. It gave him some sense of hope, and the last few years, looking after Mia and Monica, as well as being right there for Kimberly gave him some sense of direction. It had been good, but of course, driving fast was still on his mind. Always.

Ross listened in, hearing the conversation about Kimberly's crash. He sometimes had flashbacks to it, to that crash. He had cold sweats and woke up in the night. It seemed odd that killing people in cold blood had been easier to accept than seeing what had happened to Kimberly replay in his head, and then what he did himself at the wheel. There was no denying it had been hard to talk about it, and he didn't bring it up. Instead, he focused his energy on the bettering the lives of the people he loved, rather than just being so selfish, so naive to think it would all just work with all the risks they had taken once.

But going out for a quick blast? Well...he couldn't turn that down.
"We'll watch out, Sarah. Thanks you for this. We'll try and be back before their bed-time!" Ross added, chuckling as he grabbed a grey hoodie, flinging it on alongside a black beanie, covering his receding short hair. The Scotsman was getting even more bald, he couldn't hide that as easily as he once could.

Walking over past the table, he grabbed the keys to his updated toy, something newer since the last bout of insanity he'd been driving around LA. The RX7 had been sold on, it was too insane even by Ross's own standards, it just didn't fit him. It was too hardcore, too attuned, and so he had gone back to something actually a little more up his street. Something a little more vintage, a project car but more down his streets for being able to really enjoy pure, Deutchland-driven performance.

It sure as hell beat driving the family car, with the kids in the back, the BMW keys in his hands as he headed to the garage following Kimberly. Opening the door for his side of the opening, the 2002 M3 E46 CSL sat there, one of 1,500 worldwide. It was hard to find, and needed a total rework, as it had actually been a former insurance Cat D write-off. But it was left hand drive, and in a sapphire black, fresh from factory. Original seats, original everything. Some light mods, such as an overhaul of the 3.2L in-line six cylinder engine meant that thins thing now chucked out 400bhp, and at an instant with a NOS tank behind the handbrake would chuck out a lot more on demand. Not that it was really needed given how fun this thing was with this amount of power, but it was there alright. Oh, and removing the pesky limiter. This was not as fast as Kimberly's Skyline, that was a machine to rule all others on the mean streets. This was a machine that was the ultimate M3, the best E46, bar the V8-powered monster that was the unicorn-rare M3 GTR. And to a trained eye, an eclectic taste.

With nice alloys, smooth leather and something of a feeling that this was his machine from every nut and bolt he'd put back together, and making it go fast was always a pleasure. Rear-wheel drive, old-school anarchy that his driving skill thrived on.

Opening the door, he clambered in, sighing as he reclined in the seat, turning the ignition, sparking the upgraded coils. The car had been tinkered exactly how he wanted it to be, and everything that could be easily upgraded had been, bar a few things that needed no work. The Bavarian engine roared into life, as he wound the electric window down, looking out at Kimberly, her Skyline roaring.
"Come on then, show me what she's got!" Ross replied to Kimberly with a wry smirk, revving the six cylinder of his M3, the doors fully opened as he let her take the lead.

------

Tahoe

Into the void they went, as Seb let her lead, pushing off gently and keeping everything open, head pointed as for a brief second, nothing happened. The suit began to suddenly take form, take pressure as the sight of the cliffs below begun to become a faster blur. The Austrian focused right on Ellie, keeping out of her burble, or the area of dirty air that she'd be creating behind her suit, the wake in a nutshell. In the snowy and rocky backdrop of the mountains, it was a sight to behold as the white and gold of Ellie's suit, and Seb's black and blue roared like fighter-jets turned down in volume from the sheer speed they weer flying at along the terrain, coming close then far, then close again.

The line was long and required a lot of concentration, but there was no doubt in that moment of time, total focus was something the two of them could really pull off. Coming in closer, Seb approached the left, and flew right above, capturing a hell of a shot of Ellie, before flying right along Ellie's right, following her through a turn at a butte-face. The lake in the distance shimmered, as Seb dropped back a little, taking a cinematic angle of the shot. It was hard as hell to film, and he'd learned a lot about using cameras in the past few years- depth of field, aperture and so on, so getting this right before they even left the ground was something he wasn't going to mess up. That and the other cameras, always providing another perspective, another view. But in this moment, there was nothing but pure focus. Joy was subdued by the sheer concentration, but this was how life for the two of them went. It was living at the very extremes. And right here, Seb couldn't be anywhere else but following his partner tight into a deep rock crevasse, the altitude burning as they flew through the mountainside, down towards the lake below.

Anyone else would have thought it was surreal, but against the realms of sanity, Seb and Ellie were flying, or at least falling a lot less slowly through the backdrop of a mountainside, and paid or not, he wanted to be nowhere else.

-----

Sonoma

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head.
"Riight. It'll just be me treating it like that then." He added, shaking his head as he took his helmet, the noise of cars roaring past the paddock audible as he sighed, looking in.
"Just get me set, Lucas."

And like that, he was out.

Going through turn 1 was terrifying but the aero package was awesome, the car just stuck unlike the R8. Despite not having as much power, it felt so responsive and refined through the bends, it felt good to drive and well, this was going to be a hotlap. Taking Turn 2 neatly, he had a clear route through, no traffic ahead and was going to cane it. The switchback at Turn 4, following the Sports Car layout rather than the NASCAR route made it more interesting for the cars to really cane it on corners rather than speed, the high speed bends terrifying compared to the low-speeds that some courses these days presented. Sonoma was raw, harsh and undulating in the terrain, as he roared out of Turn 6, onto the part-drag strip section. A hard section at 7, and back into the complex section through Turns 8 to 10 kept the car on its toes, dancing from kerb to kerb. Down to Turn 11 and the car was feeling dialled in, the rubber beginning to gel, everything coming good as he floored it through 12 and over the start-stop line, feeling like this was good....

"The car's fucking awe...." Ryan spoke, before being rudely interrupted.

BANG!

It was a puncture wound and a half to hear the noise of what sounded like an engine deciding to shit itself, as the car almost instantly lost power, billowing black exhaust smoke and the gears janking entirely. Catastrophic engine failure was not good, and coasting over Turn 1, he put it into the gravel before the uphill climb. Coming to a stop, Ryan only swore, before sighing.
"Ryan, what's going on?" Lucas asked over the comms, as he shook his head.
"Car's fucked. I'm all good." Ryan was stark, just annoyed more than anything, annoyed how this had been going so well and yet here he was, at the mercy of bad luck. Hopefully the power unit wasn't going to stake like this, or this was going to be a long season.

Lucas was swearing in the garage as he ran out, heading to the pit wall. He could literally see the stricken NSX sitting in the gravel, dead and lifeless.

This was why they did pre-season after all. The car was dead, but it wasn't in a race at least. And Ryan's time up until then had been strongly competitive.

Ah well.

-----

Somewhere in Zurich, Switzerland

Mark looked over his shoulder, entering the cafe as he set up his laptop. Looking around, he took out his own bottle of water, gently sipping away as he sighed, looking over his emails, contacts, everything. He'd left no trace, nothing in fact. The Crime Syndicate was getting investigated harder, but leads were harder to follow. The evidence case built up, and for every head that they found, another two sprouted up.

And at times, he had done his part. Being this deep undercover for years, almost half a decade now felt insane. He felt like he was losing touch, becoming more criminal than cop. After all, it all started because of his criminality and his mindset, but now here it was, coming full circle. Calculating, calm, ready. He had a few things to sort, and a meeting to attend. They were narrowing in on a few more people, but he couldn't do this one alone. And an old acquaintance came to mind. Someone who would be able to be the other rock that could hit the other bird that needed to be struck off the list. It had to be simultaneous, and well, Mark was always one for a plan. He knew Athena still had her position in the NYPD, and well, could actually do something. Nobody else at this point was anyone that Mark trusted. Athena was clean, because she had no idea of any of it all. Even Mark knew his higher ups, anyone could be corrupt, filthy as pigshit and only keeping him there to keep the het. Hence why being an undercover Interpol cop in an organisation filled to the teeth with raging psychopaths was something that well, required a cool head and a distinct lack of fucks. As well as total suspicion of pretty much anyone.

Meaning Athena was perhaps in this situation, all he could count on for this particular scumbag. One very big hydra head, who had stopped looking over his shoulders.

Taking his phone, he looked over his shoulder, before looking back at the messenger screen. He flicked through, finding the old number of the person he really hoped he'd never have to contact. Somehow, he hated the fact he was doing this, but it was needed to do.

"
There's two senior detectives in the NYPD that have strong links to a Moldovan individual named Vladimir Sobotka.

He's on every Interpol list as a high priority target, with several European arrest warrants.

He is one of the key members in a drugs distribution network linked to a global syndicate.

He's a nasty piece of shit who authorized several "disappearances" in Moldova and Romania of police officers investigating drugs-related crime, alongside heading up a significant portion of the syndicate's finances.

And he's going to meet them tomorrow, at Hunter's Point, at 2000 hours sharp.

GPS Co-ordinates are here:
----(link)----

Nobody will do a thing, and he'll walk out of America with the best police force in the States under his thumb after the meeting.

Protection at the meeting is light, four Glocks.

So act how you will.

Do not reply to this message.

Don't ask where this comes from.

Trust me.

"

The phone's encryption was strong, and no doubt that Athena was going to be shocked. But somehow, he knew she'd know exactly who sent it. Be unable to place it accurately, but would do the thing he had in mind. After all, how do you touch those who can't be found? When you're a ghost, you stop looking over your shoulder...Mark intended to give them a subtle reminder that they very much could.

The Irish-Italian woman chuckled and shook her head. It'd been over five years since Ross had first experienced what this car could actually do, and even then it had only gotten faster since then with numerous upgrades done to it. However, he also had a point. There was more rust on her driving ability than there was on his subframe. It had been a while since she had done some spirited driving, at least on the level that she would with Ross. It was one thing to go a little over the speed limit on a backroad, but an entirely different thing to go nearly a hundred miles an hour over the speed limit on a highway. Luckily, the highways were emptying out. Maybe, if they were lucky enough, they'd get a wide-open freeway. It was a tall favor considering this was Los Angeles, but the opportunity was still there.

Tapping her fingers on her steering wheel impatiently, Kimberly was parked behind a red light that was taking a wee bit too long to start. She knew very well how long this stop light should’ve taken, as it was one she’d taken along on her commute to work pretty much every day. Fortunately, from that stop light she could take a glance onto the direction they were headed in, and much to her pleasure, it was as clear as the eye could see.

It was odd, considering the time of day. Kimberly ducked underneath her visor to glance at the sky. The sun was still out, and the sky was a nice gradient of orange to purple. Kimberly made a momentary confused gaze, before shrugging. She didn’t want to question it too much. Looking at the light, it turned green and Kimberly was free to let the car roll forward. Quickly glancing over at her MFD, she decided to turn on some tunes to make this drive a lot more engaging.

It was lucky that there were practically no cars around. It was more derelict than a road you’d find in a small town, which was weird considering this was Los Angeles. Kimberly didn’t want to question it too much, but she couldn’t help but to find it incredibly bizarre that there was just no traffic. If there were more than she was comfortable with, she very likely would’ve called it quits right there and then. No need to risk her life or the lives of others anymore. Since it was just her, Ross, and the open road, however, she wouldn’t feel as guilty tearing down the highway at high speed.

Keeping it in second, Kimberly rolled down the merging lane so that she could eventually get up to speed. Sixty-five miles an hour wasn’t that hard to achieve in a car like this, it was doing it steadily in the second gear. The gears were tall to take advantage of the massive amount of power underneath the hood of her car. Once she was on the freeway, Kimberly looked behind her in every single direction she could to make sure there weren’t any cars coming up.

The coast was clear, and there was hardly a car to be seen for a LONG way. Throwing it into third, Kimberly slammed the gas pedal and could feel the rear lose it a bit before she corrected it. Kimberly wondered just how much life these tires had in them. Maybe once they’d gotten warmer, they would be more friendly with the road.
Going up through the gears, Kimberly had entered sixth gear, approaching the car’s top speed in no time. Cars on the other side were becoming blurs and every adjustment had to be precise the faster she went. With every mile per hour she climbed, the margin for error grew slimmer and slimmer. Every little adjustment she made had multiplied by how fast she was going. Every slight movement of the steering wheel had become magnified the faster she went.

It was clear that Ross’s M3 had nothing on Kimberly’s Skyline. As much of a legend it was, Kimberly’s car was simply pushing more power. It might’ve had the edge on the track, but Kimberly’s car was the clear victor in this sort of environment.

Hitting the top of sixth gear, Kimberly held on for dear life. Luckily the road was straight, so she didn’t have to worry about throttle control and management. Kimberly gripped her steering wheel hard, her palms becoming slightly sweaty as she continued to keep the car on the road and wrestled with every single bump and hole the car took as she tore down the road. Focusing on the road ahead of her, the roar of her six-cylinder engine was quickly overcome by an unfamiliar roar.

It wasn’t the sound of another six-cylinder, like Ross’s car. It was high pitched, indicative of something being revved like crazy. It wasn’t something like a Ferrari 458 or a Honda S2000, though. Instead, it was a motorcycle. A motorcycle coming up quickly behind Kimberly.

At the rate it was accelerating and gaining on her, there was no way Kimberly was going to be able to beat it. Not while sixth gear was being maxed out. She was hitting the top of her gear and was going as fast as her car would permit her. Kimberly’s car was fast, but there was no way she was going to able to beat a motorcycle in a straight line. It was too heavy to do anything about it.

Soon enough, the motorcycle zipped past Kimberly, the four cylinder engine roaring past her. Kimberly scoffed, before letting off the throttle a bit to let the engine cool down, “Jesus…” She muttered, before glancing in her rear-view mirror to see another motorcycle come up and eventually whip past her.

Seems like Kimberly and Ross weren’t the only people willing to take advantage of the fun tonight.

---

Glancing around their environment as they carved the face of the mountain, Ellie had a smile on her face. She’d been on hundreds and hundreds of jumps, but they never ceased to put a smile on her face every single time she’d done one. The sights were just a marvel to behold and something that couldn’t be beat. Sure, you could see the Rocky Mountains from down below, but it wasn’t the same as experiencing it right there and then.

Ellie glanced down and noticed that the ground was quickly coming up, meaning that she was going to have to end the session soon. As much she wanted to keep going, there was only so much that she could do before gravity took its toll and turned Ellie into a giant pile of meat and bone dust.

Turning to look at Seb, Ellie tapped on her watch to indicate that they should be prepping for landing soon. However, the both of them knew they’d be stalling for as long as possible to get the most of the sights. Not only for her, but for the audience and cameras strapped on her. They too, deserved to experience Lake Tahoe at its finest.

---

By the time Ryan had started his hot-lap, Gina was well on her way on finishing her own hotlap. Putting some temperature in the tires had really intensified and drove home just how much better and downforce oriented this car was compared to the Audi they drove a while back. Yes, it lacked power. The V6 had nothing on the V10 in the Audi, but in exchange it was able to blitz through a corner like nobody’s business. It was like going from a Ferrari to a Red Bull car. It felt real good, and it was a much better fit for Gina’s driving style.

Crossing the line, Gina put a very respectable time. Probably would’ve gotten her a top five time right off the bat. Easing off the throttle, Gina was letting the car cool off before eventually pitting. She knew the tires had died off in the process of the run. But before she could get up the first few corners again, she saw a giant black plume of smoke ahead. That didn’t bode well at all. Letting go of the throttle completely, Gina pulled to the opposite side of where the smoke was coming from.

Pulling up, she had seen that the PU in Ryan’s NSX had unfortunately exploded and failed. That wasn’t a good sign for Gina or Ryan. It was testing, and for the engine to fail that quickly was disconcerting. Maybe it might’ve been a stroke of bad luck? Gina wasn’t sure, but she was sure counting her blessings that she had made it out of the hot-lap okay.

Doing a slower lap around the track, Gina eventually made it into the pit-lane, where she was quickly put into the paddock and let out of her car. The first thing she had to say right off the bat was something that was more for Ryan’s sake than her own. “What happened out there? What’s wrong with the PU?!” Gina asked curiously, looking at Ryan’s car being worked on.

---

Athena was sitting in the passenger seat of her ESU truck, on her phone as she waited for her partner to pick up some McDonald’s. It was a typical summer afternoon in New York City, and her unit had been asked to go patrolling and be on standby due to an increased threat but so far nothing had happened. Not even a single call for them to take. Sure, the radio was going crazy, but there was nothing for them. Athena and the New York City Emergency Services Unit had long graduated from having to take your average calls and traffic violations.

Athena was on her Instagram feed. There were photos of her favorite nieces, Mia, Monica, Anna, and Samantha all over it and she had taken the time to like them. It was nice getting a glimpse of what was going on back on the other side of the country, considering Athena was the only person over here, all by herself. Suddenly, her phone vibrated and she received a message from an unknown number.

Weird.

Hitting the text, she looked at what was sent. It was a doozy, alright, and the first sentence right off the bat wasn’t something she’d like to see. There was a good chance that this was just some bullshit prank from someone who had gotten her number, but the more she read it the more suspicious she was. This wasn’t worded like your typical bullshit text claiming there was a warrant for your arrest or that your passport was tied up with the Italian Embassy.

This was a little too deliberate to a random piece of spam. Hell, the GPS coordinates were legitimate and pointed to an actual place in Hunter’s Point, and it wasn’t the one in San Francisco, either. Reading the text over and over again, she had to do something about this. She couldn’t just leave this rather valuable piece of info alone. But, it was hard to figure out who she could trust with this information. She didn’t want to go at this alone, but considering the sensitivity of the information and what was at stake, she had to do something about it. Luckily, she had the night off tomorrow. Perhaps, she could go check it out.

The driver’s side door opened, and her partner came in with a bag of McDonald’s. But, she was a little too engrossed in her phone to notice.

“Athena, hey, Athena? You okay?” He nudged the woman, who promptly looked up. “Oh, what? Yeah. Yeah, I am.” She smiled, before taking the bag from him. “Thanks.”

The M3's straight six whined, as the speedo climbed and climbed, Kimberly's Skyline more and more distant by the second. Still, there were moments where he could keep it pinned on the slight kinks in the road where Kimberly wasn't, even as slight as it was, it was enough for him to keep foot to floor. The car felt like it was going at a rate of knots, though of course he had to always admit that Kimberly had straight line speed covered. When they got to the twisties, he'd give her a run for her money....and that was all blown away when the first bike went past. Then the second. Ross wasn't entirely shocked- he'd seen shit like this on the Autobahn before, but not like that. Zoe Pascal Mercier had left him for dust, and well, that blue blur was going to get further and further.

The teeny Swiss girl looked in her mirror, the sight of the M3 and the Skyline no match for pure Japanese power, and closing her distance to her Columbian counterpart's Honda CBR1000R. The Yamaha R1 she was on was screaming, the modified Akrapovic exaust louder than it legally should have been but when you're going about 150 and past 160, that begins to barely matter. At that speed, Zoe's world through the visor of the blue tinted white Arai helmet was a blur, reactions needing to be pretty much instantanious if someone decided to pull out. But in the fast lane, even the Skyline and BMW weren't keeping up. The acceleration of the bike itself left them for dead, and whilst on the corners it may not have been as glued down, it certainly paced out of each faster than a car could. For far cheaper, too.

Winding through a stack of cars, the neon pink and blue Alpinestars full race suit-wearing Swiss was gripping the bike tight. On her back, beyond the neck brace and her leather gear was a little magic backpack for later, a barely felt weight for her now at this point. But it was a need she'd have later, dropping a gear as the bike actually pulled back and wheelied, as she roared past Val, her gaze turned for a moment as she could only giggle in devlish delight. Zoe was not a MotoGP rider, but her experience of hooning bikes through the German autobahns and Swiss mountanis, evading fines, cops and helicopters meant that while she was young, she had serious cred on how to do dumb shit well. Oooor, at least she thought that. Which made it okay. The bike coming back down as she nipped the throttle only slightly, she swerved around a car, almost a full tilt leaning given the speeds they were at, something the cars could get to but not sustain. Not like this.

Going nearly 170 down a highway was just ludicrous, and if a cop saw them, they'd barely be able to get the plate let alone a description. Two very blurry things. And that was just how the Swiss girl liked it, as she carried on. The Scarla headset picked up a little static as she had wheelied, so she put her head back down behind the screen more, knowing Val would be able to talk.
"It's getting more empty, Val!" Zoe called into the comms, chuckling as she picked a tight gap between two cars, storming through, shaking her head. This was just getting ludicrous now, as she saw the road tighten up ahead, dropping a lane.
"We've got to keep heading to the Pacific Highway, I've got something spicy lined up....just keep an ear out, okay?" She added, back on the revs as the R1's 4-cylinder engine roared, the noise of backfire intermittent as she ramped up through the gears, cackling like a thundercloud as Zoe could muster a shit-eating grin. Even despite being so petite and completely out of proportion to the bike almost, she looked at home living life in the even faster lane than even the street racers she'd long left in her Metzeler's tyre dust. Tonight was going to be very, very fun.

--------

Seb was right behind her throughout the dive down, able through his almost telepathic partnership with her now to just get close, barely within a meter of her foot and get incredibly close. He had to say, Ellie wasn't exactly running out of pictures to use in social media of her, not when he was able to read her every move so easily when they flew together, her unique suit sticking out from anything else that was out there. It was what made them so good- that bond and trust made them so talented not just as individuals, but as a partnership, a couple. Sticking close by, the shelf below was beginning to thin out as Seb saw her look over, the two coming alongside each other. With a total grin on his face, Seb dived down a little more, fully aware that they were coming in closer and closer to over the LZ. With a wingsuit, a subtle dive down, using all that excess speed and a slight movement of the head was enough to just bring the suit level, and into a flare, Seb actually flipping onto his back part-way through as he pushed down hard in his arms and legs, catching Ellie do the same flare. Watching her deploy, he felt himself hit the awkward top of the parabolica, flipping the large suit over and throwing his pilot chute as he did, the canopy flinging out as he did.

With a characteristic whoop, he took in the sights of Lake Tahoe below and the surrounding mountains, unzipping everything and popping his goggles off. Grabbing his toggles, he buried them into brakes, already swooping back around the side of Ellie, following right in her wake. Seb knew she was definitely going to enjoy being in frame, she had come bounds in her confidence and her ability to enjoy it, the golden parachute's skin a weird shimmer in the bright blue skies over California. He kept close behind, watching her take the route down into the small opening between the trees as he watched her come into land, before barely landing meters away himself. Whooping with joy, he couldn't help himself as he let the canopy still stay up, running over towards her with his hand up for a high-five. Cameras or not, a project or not, this was still what he loved most.

------

Ryan could only shrug, looking on at the car, then back at Gina.
"Camshaft is completely fucked, looks like it gave up and it's ruined the engine block. Fucking expensive that is. Ah well...." Ryan said, shrugging, already mostly past it and just keeping his spirits focused on the data that had been extracted. He was caning it around the circuit, setting at least one good lap in the process and extracting everything. He didn't feel good that the car had already gone to shit, but chances were, it was going to be a one-off. These things happened in motorsport- one slight defect and that was it, precision engineering just couldn't handle intolerances. This was one of those- and why they went through testing, after all. Better it happen now than in a long distance endurance race. Heading into the pits with Gina, he looked back over his shoulder, a smirk on his face.

"You did seriously good though. Lucas was just saying, he's glad you got some mileage into the car. He's just on the phone to the Honda, no doubt they're going to want to figure out what their block just did." Ryan said, shrugging towards the end as he pulled up a plastic chair, sitting down as he pulled a Rockstar out of the fridge nearby, shaking his head.
"VTEC kicked in, yo!" He sarcastically commented, just a little more relaxed about this than he probably should have been, but aware there was very little he could do right now. Gina probably thought that was going to be odd, but then again, she wasn't the one helpless to an engine failure. In his eyes, at least.

Valentina Rosa Días Calderón was perched on top of her Honda CBR1000RR. That was 189 horsepower and 433 lbs in between her legs barreling down the highway at over 150 miles an hour and weaving in and out of traffic. Luckily, lane splitting was legal in California and she was more than allowed to just ride on the white lines. It was perfect for the avid motorcycler, who may or may not have spent her time on a bike waaaaaaaaaay above the speed limit and beyond what was considered even remotely safe. Life wasn't worth living without being on the edge of life and death at all times. After all, variety was the spice of life, and Valentina's brand of spice was putting herself into situations where she could very easily die. Whether it'd be with a giant hunk of metal in between her legs or catching a wave in the middle of a hurricane, Valentina was down for it.

Today was no exception. The highways of Los Angeles were strangely very clear for this time, which definitely allowed her to have a bit of fun somewhere where she could... open up more. Usually she'd take a ride on the Mulholland Drive and go as hard as she can, but she just couldn't pass up the opportunity to allow her motorcycle to breathe. Which was why she was here, barreling down a typically packed freeway. Her orange hair was hanging out of her helmet, flowing through the air as her Honda motorcycle tore it up. In the distance, she could see a set of taillights, and unlike the previous taillights she'd encountered, it'd taken her a little longer for her to catch up than usual. Maybe she wasn't the only one with the idea, which was always awesome.

Pulling down on the throttle, she put in 100%, eventually passing what turned out to be a BMW M3 rather handidly. She was sure the person in the car was trying their damndest, but they'd have to try harder than that to even have a chance at beating them. Up next was something that she hadn't really seen on American streets, let alone the streets of Los Angeles. The hockey puck taillights were iconic to anyone who knew worth a damn about cars. And based on the way she was catching up to it, it might damn well have been pretty much stock. Whatever was underneath that hood was simply nothing compared to her motorcycle. But, she needed to see who was behind the wheel of this car.

Rolling up besides the car, Valentina took a quick glance inside. Hm. Cool chick. Nice hair. Blue eyes. But soon, she was a speck of dust in the distance as her motorcycle pulled away. It sounded like it had some firepower but there was just no beating the power-to-weight ratio of a bike. At least, not right now. Continuing down the freeway, Valentina heard a rather familiar Swiss voice on the headset. Something about... continuing down the freeway for a surprise. "If you say so!" Valentina smiled, "Last one there is a loooooooooser!" She said, before doing the motorcycle equivalent of flooring it.

---

Hundreds of landings could never train you for how rough it was on the knees. Ellie wasn't exactly old but all those landings took a toll on her. Ellie swore she could feel her knees pop, but she had to do her best to get back up and make sure she still put on a show for all her viewers. Taking the parachute off as she settled down, she turned around to see Seb behind her. Seb was more excited than ever, and Ellie was always appreciative of that. Putting a hand up, she reciprocated his high five without even blinking. The adrenaline was coursing through her veins, after all. It was one hell of a run.

But, she wasn't really... as into as Seb was. She felt guilty for not being very into it, but she was more glad that she finished it than she was that there was a ride all along. Taking a deep breath, Ellie pulled her phone out to stop the cameras from recording. The GoPros had recorded more than enough footage to use, across many different angles. And then there was Seb's own footage as well. Plenty of footage to be edited and sorted through for sure.

Sighing again, Ellie sat down once she knew the cameras were off. She wanted to take her wingsuit off, but there was too much rigging for her to bother with. "Ah, damn..." Ellie sighed, getting comfortable. "Seb, come sit!"

---

Gina was disappointed to find out that Ryan's engine had shat out on him during a testing run. Sure, it was better sooner rather than later, but it was still very unfortunate that it even occurred in the first place. She wished that neither car blew up and that they were able to conduct more laps. Gina could've gone more for it, but she figured Lucas wanted to compare the cars and settings to see what they did differently. It was going to take a while, and there would be some downtime. Luckily, some more cars had come out, entertaining the crowd at the very least.

"It might've kicked in too hard for you.." Gina smirked. "Sorry, but I had to say it."

---

The following night, Athena was sitting nearby in a rented car. In an operation like this, it wasn't exactly wise to be in her own car. These weren't amateurs she was dealing with. They knew how to operate, and it probably wasn't the smartest idea for her to go at it alone, but she wasn't sure who she could trust. However, if the intel was good, four Glocks wasn't something she couldn't deal with by herself, especially at this time of night. It was eight o'clock, right on the dot, and she could see a group of people starting to congregate. At first glance, they might've just been meeting up, but the body language was different, and the big muscly dudes definitely didn't help either.

She decided it was time to act. There was no way she was going to able to take everyone down by herself, so she figured she was going to get all the intel and evidence she possibly could. That's why she brought along a camera, and a microphone to capture whatever audio she could. As well as a Sig Sauer P226 for when things got a little... too hairy. Getting out of the rented Toyota Prius, Athena slung the camera around her neck and tucked her pistol inside her pants. Getting low, Athena headed straight for the trees, where she could be concealed the best. Last thing she wanted to do was to be seen or heard.

Settling beside a tree, Athena got on her belly and made sure to be as low as possible, setting the shotgun mic up beside her as she put the camera up. Already, they were discussing some thing had definitely confirmed what the text said. Additionally, she snapped a picture of what was irrefutable evidence of the presence of Vladimir Sobotka, and he was definitely talking about a huuuuge bribe to some serious authority figures. Something in the millions, tens of millions almost, in exchange for them to turn a blind eye to his operations. It was huge, and Athena wasn't going to let this go free, at all.

But just when she thought she had enough evidence. She heard something behind her. Light rustling, which turned into a deep, husky voice.

"What are you doing?"

Zoe could only respond in a characteristic, textbook manner.
"Well, fuck you then!" She cackled, seeing Val in her incredibly shaky and wobbly mirrors.

Diving between a pair of cars, the traffic got more busy as she gently braked, off the throttle and already diving between two cars, wheeling as she did, absolutely no fucks given. It wasn't professional, this was hoon. Living life on an edge, an edge that felt like it was the Swiss girl's charm, whooping as she pulled the wheelie through fucking traffic no less. Val was going to no doubt be equally pissed, and or thinking the same as Zoe almost span up the rear wheel putting it down, roaring out of traffic and into a tunnel. Santa Monica was ahead, she reminded herself- just only where a few hours ago she'd topped up on her tan.

While it went down to a thinner set of lanes here, heading north-west down Route 1 out of Santa Monica, Zoe wasn't letting up the pace. Keeping towards the outer part of the lane, she went past cars with ease, a gentle push that was barely noticable pushing her into the middle and past a car pulling out slowly, the blur of her blue Yamaha jostling with the Honda, with utter disregard. The sun may have been going down over the Pacific, but the fun was only beginning. No rider would go this fast, or even think this was sane. Zoe liked to think otherwise. She did on a lot. Her lifestyle, her way of doing things was about life. And she very well planned to live.

The roads were getting tighter, as Zoe slowed up, leaning hard, knee down through a tight bend....a bend that you wouldn't have to lean for unless you were going about 140, almost like a full on Isle of Man TT rider. Zoe was fully aware of just how dead she'd be if a car pulled out, or something else went wrong. But that thought almost didn't enter her, like her fear gene was removed, like she was just so in the moment that she could not be elsewhere. No, right now, she was here and now, doing exactly what she was doing. And coming out of the bend, she was back on the throttle, still aware of the lead she had on Val....for now at least. Seeing the mile marker, she leaned into the next sweeping set of bends, pushing the bike hard and to the edge of it's limits.

"It's coming up in a mile, keep an eye on the left side of the road....there's a trailer ramp pointing towards the ocean and the beach. You'll have to hit it at least at 100 to get enough height....just dump as soon as you're away from the bike and brace yourself....you'll have a couple seconds, tops! This is going to be utterly ridiculous.....people are gonna shit themselves when they see this!" Zoe said, giggling, almost as if she was totally intoxicated by the whole thing.

"Let's do this shit.....wooo!" She yelled into the comms, the high pitched Swiss voice squeaking all the way through as she focused ahead, not 100% as before but just readying herself mentally for the insanity that was to come. Hitting a ramp on a fairly low bridge, going into the air, and deploying instantly, with barely seconds to impact. She had left a GoPro in the sand, and if nobody had tampered with it, she had no doubt it was going to blow some minds.....

----------

Seb cut the footage from his end, exhaling as he took his helmet off and unzipped the legs of his suit entirely, looking to Ellie. Dragging his canopy over his shoulder, he walked over, seeing she was a little more out of breath, a little more tired than usual. It wasn't right. Perhaps she was just burnt out, the adrenaline or something else had taken a hold. Maybe he'd not noticed it recently, more than most. Or something else had hit. He couldn't tell, but she seemed a bit less than herself, bounding around endlessly after something like that. On top of the world still, but not as high as usual.

Walking towards the shade of the large pine trees, Seb sat down with her, taking in the view of the mountains they had flown down for a good minute and a half, and everything else. The film crew had noticed they'd pulled back, gotten what they wanted, and backed away. For a few minutes, at least. Words didn't really need to be said, as Seb unzipped the front of his suit, still carrying his gear just like Ellie but at least partially getting out of the sweatbox that was the wingsuit.
"That was good." Seb said, his chilled Austrian accent coming through as he leaned back against the tree, the canopy in front and wrapped in his right arm.
"Tired out? I mean, that was one hell of a trip up there. The footage out of that will be good. They seemed very impressed." He added simply, turning to her, noticing that the look wasn't going away, the two looking eye to eye, Seb only wryly smiling, still buzzing off what had happened.
"I still don't get why you picked white. It's all gonna be stained now." He giggled, teasing her a little as he leaned in for a hug, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, sighing. He could really spend all day here, just coming down from all this mentally, looking back on this all. Beneath it however, he knew Ellie was a little different. Perhaps she just had a harder landing than usual, or just was burnt out from the hike. Or something else was on her mind. Either way, Seb was there for her, close and listening as ever.

Valentina's dead stare turned into a squint as soon as she figured out what Zoe's surprise was. A ramp?! How was she going to be able to take such a ramp? The motorcycle was 443 lbs, and Valentina was less than a third of that. It was going to be tough for her to keep it together, especially on impact. She wasn't even sure if this motorcycle could take the impact. In either case, however, she wasn't going to back down from a challenge. There was no way she was going to back down from Zoe Mercier. Not while there was a challenge like that. Hopefully her motorcycle would make it through, she wasn't entirely interested in having to repair it again, nor was she particularly interested in flying off a ramp with the bike, as a matter of fact.

As she tore down the road, she was still debating on whether or not she was going to take the ramp. On one hand, it would've been sick. But on the other, given how much ground she had on Zoe and how much faster she was, she was wondering if she could beat Zoe there without flying in the air. Valentina didn't have a BASE rig on, so there was no way that she was going to be able to get away from the bike without breaking a bone or a few dozen. Valentina had no idea that this was even happening. All she knew was that she was going to be going for a ride like always.

"Tell you what... we'll see who gets there first, eh? You can go fly and I'll go ride!" Valentina figured it was probably better this way, considering that if Zoe was successful, that bike was going to be toast and Zoe was gonna need a way back home. Valentina had enough confidence in her skill to believe that she could beat a flying bike. Could she actually do it? Nobody knew, but the confidence was good.

---

Ellie sighed again, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, tucking it away so that it wouldn't get in the way. The Scot couldn't help but to giggle a little bit at Seb's white comment. Yeah, he had a point. "It looks cool. It's not like it matters now. Laundry is a thing, Seb." She laughed. Ellie gave him a light tap on the arm, doing it in jest. But he was right. Ellie was feeling tired out. Usually she had a lot more energy than this, but right now things were just slowing down and she wanted to take some time to herself and settle down.

"Yeah.. I'm a bit tired." She smiled, before deciding to sit back on the ground completely. Thudding against the soft dirt and foliage, she sighed again. "I think.. I don't know... I think I'd like to slow down a bit. I just... I'm just tired, Seb, y'know?" She asked, staring up at the sky.

---

"...what am I doing here?" Athena asked, turning around, "Bird-watching." She faced the big, muscular man who was staring at her menacingly. It was about as thinly veiled of a lie as any, and they both knew that it wasn't going to work. The man rolled his eyes and tried to grab at Athena, but she quickly caught a hand and positioned her other hand behind the big man's leg. Putting a leg onto his hip, and the other behind his other leg, she quickly pulled her leg and other arm in, tripping him and allowing her to get forward and right onto him. With the sheer speed and timing of the move she managed to get on top of him in no time whatsoever.

Before he could even struggle, Athena got into full mount, sitting on his hips and putting an arm under one his sprawled out arms, before putting her head underneath and sprawling out. Rotating out, she quickly applied leverage and torque onto him, cutting off the blood to his brain and knocking him out in no time. Once he stopped movie, she stood up, turning around to take a look at whether or not other people had caught on.

She thought she was in the clear momentarily before a bullet hit a tree not too far away from her. "Shit!" She muttered, reaching into her pants and pulling out her pistol. She was definitely compromised now, and if she didn't act fast, she was going to lose the trio. However, it was a dilemma considering these trees were the only cover she had and if she stepped out, she was going to be fucked. She needed to think. Fast. But, what could she do? Keeping her pistol close to her body, she took a brief moment to decide on her course of action. Three Glocks shooting at her in a position like this wasn't entirely ideal, after all.

Zoe shrugged, realizing Val didn't mean that ramp. Oh, that was the other one, earlier on the freeway. It went down onto the beach, not off the bridge. It was a classic Zoe moment. Tell your partner in crime what the hell is going on before it actually happens...she couldn't help but giggle almost a little manically at just how she'd fucked it. Maybe it was the Cali heat getting to her, or something else.
"Uhh....yeah, right..you take the one BEFORE the bridge, Val...don't go too fast into that one!" She added into the comms, the R1 opened up and roaring as she dived into a corner, the bike at maximum tilt as her left knee scraped tarmac. All well and good, but on a bumpy, busy public road, it felt like just the insanity the Swiss girl needed.

The bridge was coming up into the distance, as Zoe actually had taken the last corner a little slower, watching on her side as she saw Val at full tilt go by, a shit-eating grin no doubt through the visor that she'd overtaken. And the fact that well, the plan had changed a little...

Riding straight past, she popped a wheelie as she was back on the throttle out of the slow corner, the ramp on the bridge not going onto the beach. Val would hit her ramp at a little less speed, but wouldn't get her, or the bike smashed to bits. Zoe's choice though, that was something else. And this wasn't a race in the traditional sense. It was just toomfoolery. End of the line, after leaving police, other street racers, basically anyone for dead. Watching Val go off, she carried on, the bridge coming into sight as she dived into the opposite lane, cars visible on the horizon. Yet even before that, Zoe could only cackle as she slightly pushed left, the bike heading straight towards the second ramp and without any intervention, into the ocean.

The bike took flight, Zoe wooping as she was temporarily breathless, then weightless. The bike was about to hit the top of the parabolica as Zoe let go of the handlebars and had stood up on the footpegs, realizing she was barely a couple of seconds away from going splat. With almost an automatic reaction, Zoe had already pitched and lept off backwards. The bike continued beneath her, slamming into the cauldron-like ocean with a loud thump, as Zoe felt nothing. And nothing. The sea beneath her grew closer, and closer...it was certainly death if she was going to go into it without anything, or at least serious injury. For a good second, any other spectator would have thought that too, as the pilot chute snapped the rest of the BASE canopy out of the container and barely hit the stop button on that before Zoe hit the water. Screaming with joy, she knew Val would no doubt hear her, if she couldn't see the pink and blue canopy be open and be the brakes before Zoe went splat into the water. And then it came.

Dropping into the water, Zoe pulled her helmet off as she looseened her gear off, fighting a little to deal with it as she got the container and BASE system off. Keeping the container close, she felt the waves push, dumping her underwater momentarily as it brought her into shore, still totally in awe. The amount of adrenaline in her system was just overwhelming, she couldn't even begin to recall how insane that was. It was lucky that she'd been filming that...because if that wasn't something to blow up on the internet, she didn't know what would be. She felt the waves kick up a little more, hurling her into the surf and onto the beach, Zoe still in her blue and pink leathers that were completely soaked through. Her helmet was in her right hand with a bunch of GoPros, and a bike nowhere to be seen. As far as most people could tell, that was just insanely stupid, dangerous and reckless. But where some people drew their lines, Zoe wanted to see how far the rabbit hole could go and defy them. Coming to her feet, she could barely carry the water-soaked canopy, seeing Val further down the beach, also somehow alive. She raised her hand, giving a rock-on symbol, words almost not required as she walked down to go and see her partner in crime.

------

Seb chuckled, resting his head back as he listened to her, just taking it in. He was half right, he thought to himself- something just hadn't been on with Ellie of late, but he couldn't pin it. Looking to the sky with her, back at the mountains in the distance and their exit point, then back at Ellie's form by his side.
"I get you. I mean...we have it good right now. We've got a bit of money put aside for us." He said, just thinking to himself.
"I guess we kept pushing so we could have it all. And here we are. Feels like we do. You got us into the big leagues, Ellie. I'm with you on whatever comes next. I want this, you know...but I could use some time out of the spotlight too." Seb added, smiling as he kept close to her, knowing that after all they'd been through, he knew where he stood.

-------------

Sighing softly to herself, Val revved her bike and held the throttle down as far as she could. Zoe was always up to the craziest plans, but damn it if it wasn't wasn't the sweetest shit that had ever made its way through her brain. Launching that bike of hers off of a sweet jump was very Zoe for sure. Val, in the meantime, was quickly carving her way through the roads that lead to the very beach that they were due to be on. There was a chance that Zoe was reduced to a pile of guts and flesh, but knowing Zoe, she was probably standing on the beach, or just about to make contact with ground level. That bike, not as much. That bike was going to be written off. Hopefully the money they got from pulling off insane shit like this would suffice.

Leaning into the bike and pressing the weight forward, she continued to tear her way down to the beach. The bridge was coming up, and a choice for Valentina was coming up. Was she going to take the same path as Zoe and launch off the ramp? Or go down the long way in hopes that she'll catch her? With how things were looking, she might as well take that bridge too. There was no way she was going to beat a flying Zoe the further down the road she got. There was more road between her and the beach than there was air between the ramp and beach. Take it slow, Zoe said. Take it slow. Inhaling deeply, Valentina let off the throttle as the ramp got into closer view.

Taking off the throttle completely, Valentina found that her bike simply went down onto a little service road onto the beach. Val was expecting something way more spectacular, but this would work. A downhill road all the way to the beach. Flooring it, accumulating speed was much, much easier for her and it wasn't long until she was hitting 160-170 MPH and beyond. Soon, the beach was in view and Valentina had to slam on the brakes. Shifting down as fast as she could, she pulled her bike to the side, parking it to the side somewhere and deploying the kickstand. Hopefully she beat Zoe there. Taking her helmet off, she started walking onto the beach. Much to her surprise, there Zoe was. It was hard for her to tell who exactly got there first. Based on how Zoe looked, though, it seemed like her approach was a little more soaked.

"Someone looks a little wet." She laughed.

---

Athena took a deep breath. She was going to have to move tree to tree as fast as she could. Based on how the park was laid out, if she jumped out of the trees at the right time, she might've had a chance at making a play and nailing at least one of them. She just needed to sprint for her life and hope to god she wouldn't get hit. Taking a quick peek, the trio were running right where she wanted them to. Pulling the slide of her pistol back, she chambered a round. A Sig Sauer P226 had 15+1 rounds for her to use before she had to reload. Athena only had two mags with her, including the one already in her gun. Pulling her gun up close to her face, she started to run, pointing her gun out, she fired a few rounds randomly toward the source of the gunfire as suppressing fire of sorts.

Darting through the trees, Athena ran as fast she could before she got a bead on the trio. They were bunched together very well, which meant that Athena could very well manage to nab one of them, and that was all she needed to nail the three of them and put them away. Putting her gun in her pants, the bodyguards no doubt had lost their bead on Athena. Disappearing behind the trees along with the lack of gunfire made it hard for them to track her down, which was exactly what she wanted. Not even the trio knew where she was, which set up her play almost perfectly.

Getting closer and closer, Athena and the trio was lining up. If she kept up her current pace, she was going to be able to nail one of them. The treeline was about to end soon, and it was quickly becoming now or never. As the trio slowed down to see if they were in the clear, Athena leapt out of the trees, grabbing onto Vladimir Sobotka as they were about to run off again. The detectives were going too fast to stop in time to stop Athena. The sheer speed plus weight created enough force to topple Sobotka onto the ground, Athena landing on top of him as she rolled over him. The detectives couldn't risk shooting at Athena in fear of hitting Sobotka. If Sobotka was dead, then they were in deep shit. However, Athena had no qualms about shooting the detectives and quickly pulled the pistol out of Sobotka's pants, kneecapping the both of them and taking them out.

Athena then turned around to see the henchmen running toward her. She was about to fire back before she heard sirens get progressively louder. A sense of relief washed over her as she got into cover, pulling out her other gun to keep it on Sobotka as well as her badge as the first units came. Two uniformed NYPD officers found Athena and Vladimir, pointing their guns at them. "NYPD! Hands up!" Athena only flashed her badge, before the officers lowered their guns.

Zoe looked mean, well, the kind that looked like she was about to start yelling. But she held back, not wanting to be overcome with being a complete shithead that made up these ideas in the first place. The small Swiss girl instead cracked a giggle, sighing.
"Wet from all the exitement of course!" She wrly replied, sighing as she dropped the soaking wet canopy and helmet, shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh well. I suppose I had more fun than you!" She stuck out her tongue, before walking over and hugging the taller Columbian, almost leaping up to do so. While the two of them did have a turbulent relationship, they still got on, and well, the banter between them was almost constant. Even in spite of the fact that Zoe didn't give a shit that she just wrote off a bike and was hugging her partner still in a soaking wet state, it was just the way she was. Lackidasical, and not willing to pick up the fact that life was easy for her. And equally as dangerous and utterly insane. Just the way she liked it, Zoe thought to herself. After all of this, they'd likely get a van ride back home, and contemplate their next plan. Or whatever else it may have been on the horizon. Zoe Mercier felt like she wanted even more adventure than this, something even more stupid. And they'd make their name for themselves, push the boundaries and all to go with.

---------

The two dead men lay silent in the flat, the two laid out across the floor of the small flat in Zurich's Altstadt district. Stab wounds, lots of. They looked Eastern European, leather jackets and tatty clothing of that affair, but the Marine that was alive in the room with them, sitting on the lone sofa in the room was not like them. In a warmer jacket and a pair of jeans, alive and well, with no scratches to him but a bloody knife. Sometimes wet work required a personal touch, and Mark didn't relent. He looked across at the phone, and gently reached for it, before standing up, looking out of the window.

The phone dialled, as he put it to his ear, hoping the lady on the other end would pick up. Well, his sources had confirmed it after all. She'd done what was needed. And very efficiently, no less.

"It's Mark Torridon. Put me through to Athena Rossi. Pronto." Mark simply said, as he heard the tone redial, that of a redirected call, as the Brit knew that Athena's phone would buzz. He waited and waited, just wanting her to pick up. He cut straight to the chase when he did, knowing there wasn't much time for polite chit-chat.

"Well, you're very efficient, Athena. Clearly very good at what you do. I imagine you probably have begun to join the dots on this one right now. And before you ask, yes, I know I said we wouldn't talk again. Listen, I didn't want to do any of this but I didn't have a lot of time nor options left....and I knew you were in the loop as someone I could trust. Someone who knew the difference between right and wrong. And there's not a lot of people in the world left who can decide pieces of shit like Sobotka deserved to be in cuffs, rather than infiltrating our very systems. You did exactly what I expected you would when given the information. And so here we are." Mark begun, pausing for breath.

"Anyway, enough with that. From what I heard and saw, you held yourself together and you seem to be someone who does what's required. So I'll make you an offer. You don't have to take it- you can walk away, put this number on block, whatever you feel is neccasary, as you won't be cotnacted again. Shit, I've already asked you for enough in doing what you did to Sobotka. But if you want, you can join me at Interpol in hunting down the people Sobotka worked for. And bringing them to justice, by any means neccasary.

"I know you like making a difference and saving innocent lives, Athena. We stop these fuckers, and you can achieve a lot of that." Mark added, looking to the two dead bodies, and past them, the large pile of paperwork in their office in their flat. They may have looked smalltime, but the Interpol agent had found a small goldmine of details, of online bank accounts, details, information and everything else sunshine and lolipops nice. He awaited Athena's reply, ready for either response. He wouldn't blame her for walking away, anyone of a normal disposition would do that. But the offer was there. Just in case she was ready to step into Mark's world.

-----------

Eiðisskarð, somewhere near Eiði, Eysturoy, Faroe Islands

OST: Etherwood- Haltija

The tiny gravel parking was located at the top of the mountain pass lcoated bottom of Slættaratindur, the sight of the waves crashing into the Faroese rock visible on both the east and western parts of this island. It was an odd place to visit, an oddly specific location, and for some reason to Ross, just the place his adventures took him sometimes. The sun was still burning through the early morning fog, the sight of snow on distant peaks, including at the top of tone that they were at the foot of. It felt strange, alien even, the narrow single-lane road not an easy one to navigate when they'd driven up to here

But it was a beautifully smooth driving road, idyllic and with a whole series of switchbacks heading down to the east coast, onto a two-laned road with zero cops. In fact, the drive from Torshavn to here had zero cops on it so far, and this felt like a short breather, a rest break. A moment to get inventory.

Looking behind, the 1995 Porsche 911 (993) Carrera RS was an odd choice for the Scotsman to have chosen. A car painted in a unique white and light blue to red pearlecent paint, with a Viking sticker slapped on the rear left window. It was an immacuately restored Porsche, but under the hoood was clearly packing a lot more. This was 90s vintage coupled with a heavily modified powerplant, suspension, tyres and brakes setup. It looked the business, and whilst not his, even Ross felt proud of it. A machine capable of handling these roads, as a real rallysport classic that Ross had borrowed from a local friend.

Magnus Pal Haldorsson was a Faroese-born, Sheffield and Seattle dwelling Porsche-holic and well, what he did was make old vintages like this into machines worth looking at. Not everyone loved Porsche- Ross didn't find it to be his favourite brand, yet the way that they were restored by fanatics like Magnus made total sense. It was like the original vision had been broken down and painstakingly rebuilt, in such a way that augmented everything and made it a driving pleasure. A place to be that just wasn't the fastest or most cutting edge, but a place that felt....like you were driving a machine that had a soul. Magnus wasn't along for the ride here, but Ross appreciated his advice for the route they'd decided to take today.

Ross looked across to Kimberly as he walked across the igneous rocky gravel, a smile on his face as he chuckled.
"This is a hell of a place Magnus told us about. Shit, I can't believe he let me borrow his 911. Talk about scoring a fucking amazing hire car, right?" He chuckled, embracing his wife as he looked up at the moutain, and the surroundings. This was a strange place to be, but then again, to go driving out here was just a pleasure, as it was to meet one of Ross's old friends. That and get some time away from their business and other duties back at home, which would all come when they returned home in the coming few days.

"Rossi, what the hell were you doing over there?" The Chief of the New York Police Department was clearly not very happy, "Listen, I appreciate the bust, but why were you firing on your fellow officers?" There was sort of a redness to him, as if he were more angry that his own officers went down rather than another officer taking down a rather notorious kingpin... and a couple of detectives on the side. "They fired at me first, sir. I had no choice." Athena said blankly. She knew she was alone in this, considering she had just taken down two of her own officers. Word had spread that Athena was the one behind the takedown among the NYPD, and the NYPD had kept the fact that the two officers taken down were also very involved with a kingpin. To her fellow officers of the law, she was exiled. She was seen as a rat who was willing to turn against her peers. There was an unspoken code among cops to protect each other, no matter what.

If only they knew what was going on.

"I know." The Chief sighed. "Ballistics support your statement. We found bullets all over the place -- especially in places where we found your DNA." Standing up, he put his hands on his chair, staring down at his redwood desk, adorned with various accolades and achievements he had garnered over his time with the NYPD. Athena knew she was going to be in some shit, but what she did was the right thing. There was no way she was going to just let something like that slide. Unfortunately, it looked like it was getting her into some shit with the NYPD. "But, Rossi, do you know how bad this makes us look? We're lucky that we could make it so that it looked like Sobotka fired on the officers. The whole NYPD knows that you shot the detectives, though. We're lucky that we kept it under wraps, but you do realize what this makes you, right?" Athena sighed, nodding. "Listen, you know I can't do anything for you. all we can do is just let it all blow over. For now, I'm placing you on administrative leave with pay." That was better than a full suspension, at least, or even being fired. But, it still sucked that she was suffering for actually doing her job.

Suddenly, her phone rang in her pocket. Who could be calling her at a time like this? As a matter of fact, who was calling her in the 2010s? "Dismissed, Rossi." The chief said, turning around to face the window as she got up. Hand in her pocket, she pulled her phone out as the door closed her. Walking from the Chief's office, she put her phone up to her ear. What came from the phone was something that could not have come at a better time, even though she was literally just put on administrative leave from the NYPD. Hearing Mark's offer, she stood against a pillar. Interpol, eh? She knew Interpol was a little less hands-on in general, but something told her that if she were to accept his offer, it was going to be the opposite case. Glancing at the door that lead to the Chief of the New York Police Department, Athena took a deep breath.

"Let's do it. I accept."

---

What was it with Ross and taking Kimberly to places she couldn't pronounce? When he first proposed going to the Faroe Islands, Kimberly was a little skeptical. She hadn't even heard of the Faroe Islands, but Ross was rather insistent on going. Kimberly really had no choice but to leave her kids with her sister for the umpteenth time, and take a trip across the Atlantic Ocean. It was a decision Kimberly was far from regretting. It was much needed, with the stress of running a business and being a mother piling up, she could definitely have used the getaway. It was much colder than it was back in sunny Southern California, but with Ross, it felt warmer than the Sahara Desert.

Ross had opted for a Porsche 911 that she had borrowed from a friend of his, and while it wasn't entirely on brand for Ross, she still appreciated that he had migrated from his comfort zone. Kimberly, on the other hand, was well within her comfort zone. She had opted for a Mitsubishi Evolution VIII that one of her employees had allowed her to borrow in exchange for her Skyline while she was here. Her employee, Kaitlyn Holliday, had spent a LOT of time tinkering this car and making it as perfect as it was. It was as close as you could get to a time attack car while still having it be street legal. There was no downside to it when it came to what it did best. If you took it to the track, it would dominate in its class. Therefore, Kimberly figured the Evo would be suited for a place like this.

"I'm so glad we were able to borrow these cars. Makes things a whole lot better, huh?" She smiled, before glancing at the car. "I'm glad you brought me here."

Ross smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, looking back across at the two, giving a gleeful smile back at Kimberly. As if to say yeah, I'm on board.
"Me too, there's nowhere I'd rather be." He said, Ross gently kissing Kimberly on the cheek. It was heaven being with her, he had to admit. They were the rock that they needed, the stability and the chaos all in one. And staring up at a foggy morning in the middle of the Atlantic felt like the place to be, on a mountain pass completely silenced by the lack of traffic here. It was good, the baldening Scot had to say, before releasing their embrace, slowly walking over towards the 911 and gently whistling at the car.

"Sorry to be distracted, my love. She does look like in need of a good thrashing. I reckon I owe Magnus some new tyres about now...race ya back to his?" Ross nodding the car halfway was a fun touch, one he knew would wind up Kimberly just as much she winded him up. In his Berghaus pullover fleece and baseball cap covering his head the Scot certainly looked like a tourist out here, but on these tourist roads he wasn't gonna go easy. Awaiting Kimberly's inevitable response, he opened the door to the 911 and threw himself inside, chuckling as he did so. Man, he did not get this opportunity often.

And he wasn't gonna waste it, turning the key on the Porsche to open up the roar of the flat six 3.8L engine. It was a high roar, the naturally-aspirated rear-engined, rear wheel drive vintage a machine that would still keep going with the modern times given the restomodding Magnus had done to it. Almost in a Singer style, but with a certain...Scandinavian craftsmanship. The inside was lightened out, but the two seats were padded and comfy even in spite of being buckets, and there was carpet, not scaffold tube rollcages in here. It felt civilised, but a tap of the throttle in neutral responded with a harsh, crackly spit with plenty of aftertaste from the throttle release in the exhaust system.

This was just a nice place to be, as he took the wheel, gently putting the H-pattern into first and grinning from ear to ear. Flipping the car wheelman-style 180 was always a pleasure, even more so with the naturally oversteering rear-wheel drive in this machine that wasn't absolute Japanese-tailored modified precision, but a touch of sommething crafted, ornate and European. Just like how it had all begun for the two of them, as Ross rumbled the 911 off the gravel and onto the gently drying tarmac, putting foot to floor and feeling the rear spin gently. No holds barred, Ross thought to himself, as he was already approaching the first bend fast, rushing through and picking up speed much more than legal, taking the lead and heading towards a junction overviewing an incredible view on their right. The distant mountains of the other islands, a village a few hundred meters below and a winding road down to it and onto a flat-out road hugging the coastline was just enthralling, as Ross just pinched himself. Foot down, back to basics. Turning hard on the junction the 911 drifted through, Ross fighting the car back out of the oversteer expertly and putting foot back on throttle, going for the next hairpin junction. Time for Kimberly to repsond, he thought to himself, smirking as he turned up the 911's awesome flat six soundtrack.

Kimberly inhaled the cool Atlantic air of the island and sighed. It was the type of air that you could only find on a place as isolated as this was. It was pure, unadulterated nature. A literal breath of fresh air. It was nice getting away from the hectic city life that you found back home. It was just Kimberly, her husband, and the cars that they brought all the way there with them. Ross was in a Porsche for once, and Kimberly knew that wasn't really his style, which meant that he really wanted something out of this vacation. It was well needed, considering what they'd been through over the past few years. There were no more strings attached to them anymore. They had nothing to worry about. It was just them, their family, and their cars. But, with every year that came, those priorities were starting to shift. With their family as a whole growing older, the appeal of high octane racing and driving shriveled with every day that passed.

It was a miracle that Kimberly was out here in the first place. But she was here. The driver had a small smile on her face, before she heard Ross whistle and look at the car sitting behind them. Turning her head around with her arms folded, she glanced at the 911 that Ross's friend had let him borrow. It reminded her of the Porsche that she saw back in England. That thing tore, and there was no doubt that car would tear it up on the way back to Magnus's house. It was probably one of the best cars you could bring to these roads, but Kimberly's Evo was also no stranger to these roads. She glanced back at the Evo she was lended. It was gray, and there was quite a bit of aero with it. However, just because it had a lot of downforce didn't mean it wasn't able to slide whenever it wanted to. Kimberly was good at keeping her cars at the very limit. She was sure she was going to get it around these roads.

"A race? Always." That was enough for her to get ready to go. Ross just knew how to get Kimberly riled up, but that was what happened when you were married for the better part of the decade. "You're on." Kimberly said, before clambering into her car and getting set up. Turning the key, Kimberly could hear the 4 cylinder engine roar to life. Jabbing the gas pedal, she heard the 4G63 just briefly, before shifting into gear and rolling out. Since these were narrow mountain roads, there wasn't really room for Kimberly to try any passes. Didn't really matter, though. As long as Kimberly kept close to Ross throughout the course she would be able to figure something out toward the end. There was a bit of fog, which meant that the road was no doubt about to be a bit wet. Kimberly hoped that she would be able to keep her tires warm. That was going to be the key to keeping up with Ross.

The four wheel drive offered a slight advantage when it came to keeping traction. No doubt Ross was going to have his hands full with maintaining traction. It was the nature of the car and its drivetrain. Keeping just behind Ross, she followed at just the right length so that Ross could brake and turn without having Kimberly rear end him. It was a battle of attrition throughout these roads, and Kimberly was more than confident that she was going to be able to keep up. Watching Ross take the first turn, Kimberly trail braked through the same turn, kissing the apex just right before she powered out, the car just about to lose traction before Kimberly straightened it out, losing practically no distance between her and her husband. The Evo was holding up so far, the aero clearly holding up and doing its job as it followed behind the German car.

The hairpin bends were an absolute joy to take in the 911, a distinctly analogue, raw feeling of torque and oversteer from the 911's rear-engined setup throwing the car into bends and making it feel wildly like it wasn't gonna stick from Ross's steering wheel. Yet it was just so, so satisfying, going into the next right hander to get that going, the difficulty of keeping traction making it even more rewarding to put all the car's power down on the way out, Ross grinning liek a madman. The two duelled down the mountainside, the steep road's sheep running off it at the sight of the two cars, keeping their distance as Ross braked hard into one of the last, giving a little clutch kick and keeping intentionally wide to let Kimberly thorough. It was time to follow her for a little bit, the Scotsman mused, time to let her enjoy some of these bends rather than stay behind.

It had to be said, it was good to be back at this. But it was only a brief respite now, not his entire life. Maybe that was what he needed. Moderation, control of some sort. And while the petrolhead in him would never leave, he had commitment now to stick with. A family to look after, and in some ways, perhaps it filled that gaping hole in his heart. Not for love of another, but to make a positive, more productive mark on his planet. Perhaps he was realising now just how lucky he had been before in the past, getting away with what he had when he did, and finding Kimberly at exactly the right time in his life. In moderation though...planting his foot down was just still paradise.

Into the flat section that headed towards the inlet's end at Funningsfjodur, the road had opened out into a two-laned, albeit still narrow gently curving road that Ross now had a bit more throttle on, the less corner-y part the remote Faroese road. The 911's engine growled, the flat six purring and just accelerating the car faster, the raw vibrate-y feeling of sitting inside a properly-old school 911 making it a fun place to be indeed.

This wasn't driving into the sunset, it was driving into a now overcast morning on a remote island in the Atlantic, but for him, this was right where he wanted to be. As it began, in a duel with the woman he'd now grown to love, going way over the local speed limit....

The trip to the Faroese Islands was a trip that had bore more significance than either Kimberly or Ross would've ever thought. Kimberly was only a short time away from becoming thirty years old. As much fun as she was having with her cars, she knew that it wouldn't be something she could do for much longer. Cars, racing, and pure adrenaline made up a lot of who Kimberly was as a person. Her whole life wouldn't be what it was today if it wasn't for these very machines that she was driving. That didn't mean that the risk that came with keeping up her lifestyle went away. The hobbies she enjoyed were dangerous from top to bottom. However, it also meant that she wouldn't have had the privilege of being the mother of two, soon to be three children. There was a lot for her to consider. But when it came down to it, the choice she had to make was far from a difficult decision, and one she would never, ever regret. At the end of the day, Kimberly prioritized her family over anything else. She had no intention of leaving her kids behind and without their mother.

Returning to their home in Southern California, it didn't take long for Kimberly to reaffirm her decision and commit to it. Seeing her daughters and learning that they had another little one along the way had only confirmed that Kimberly was, in fact, making the correct decision for her family and herself. No longer would she hit the streets across the world and tear her way through them. Much like those streets, that was merely dust in her mirror as she looked forward to her future. There was more she was responsible for. Now removed from street racing, there was still many uses and places for a woman with Kimberly's talents. Kimberly still had the know-how and experience to keep herself relevant in the realm of cars, and even racing. It didn't take long for her to put her many years of expertise and knowledge to good use.



"Well Crofty, you know what I've always said about the grid needing some fresh new faces. Sure, we've got our Mercedes and our Renaults and even our Racing Points, but nevertheless there's always room for new faces, especially now!"

"Right you are, Martin. Last time we saw a new team on the grid was 2016 - with Haas coming in. Now, we've some more American infusion. We're live from Los Angeles for the debut of the newest team on the grid: Valkyrie Racing, with a variety of fresh faces in Formula One! In just a matter of a few minutes, we will be joined by Team Principal Kimberly Rossi, and drivers Kasumi Brown and Hugo Olivera, both rookies fresh from Formula 2."

Kimberly stood idly by outside backstage in which their debut press conference was to be held. Her hands were on her hips, eyes behind glasses as she looked around her surroundings. She knew there were many faces in the crowd today, including people like Will Buxton and Ted Kravitz. It was an exhilarating prospect, but one that also had Kimberly at least a little bit nervous. It'd been a while since Kimberly was in a press conference. Looking at her drivers, however, they didn't seem fazed at all. That was typical, considering their career backgrounds and the fact they've been in the game for a while now. Surely, this must've been nothing for them at all.

"Mrs. Rossi, Ms. Brown, and Mr. Olivera, we've got a minute until you guys are up." A stagehand said, before leading the team representatives up to the ramp that lead to the stage. "I'll count you off and lead you guys out." The stagehand said, holding out a hand to stop them just before. Looking back and looking at various cues, the stagehand nodded, before continuing to hold her hand out. "Alright... ten... nine... eight..." She trailed on. Kimberly took a deep breath, trying to get the last minute jitters out of her. The stagehand switched to a silent count, putting her last five fingers down one-by-one, before putting her hand down and guiding Kimberly, Kasumi, and Hugo outside.

"And now introducing: CASTROL Valkyrie Racing!"

---

Ellie Dorian had sat in her living room, sighing and exhaling as deep as she could as she tried to relax. After years and years of pumping out content that never failed to satisfy and satiate people's adrenaline fixes, Ellie had announced that she was to take a hiatus from producing her usual content for a while some time ago. Even the best of content producers suffered from burnout, and boy, did Ellie have it bad. She couldn't find the appeal behind doing what she loved for a bit. It felt more like a chore than it did an activity she did to free herself from the chains of the world, the weight of all that was of this Earth.

Ellie had spent the majority of her hiatus in her Vancouver home, only leaving from time to time to get groceries, eat out, see friends, or just take in the outdoors to prevent her from going stir-crazy. However, that didn't mean Ellie's internet presence was completely gone. She knew she still had fans to tend to, and if she wanted to hit the ground running after her hiatus, that meant she had to keep something of a presence. That was when she discovered Twitch streaming, and she would stream herself playing various video games on there from time to time, even if she wasn't exactly the best at it.

Currently was an off-day altogether. It was just a day for her to hang out and lounge around and be lazy. Shuffling around her house in her pajamas, she had a cup of coffee in her hands, still steaming as she set her breakfast down and sat down, turning on the TV to see what was going on for the day. It was the same old Vancouver fluff, stuff that wouldn't matter in a few days. The same old. Ellie was stabbing at her waffles, before she heard her phone ring. Well, that was interesting. Who could be calling at this early in the morning? Ellie looked down to see who was calling, only to see a rather familiar name. She instantly picked up the call, putting the phone to her ear and letting the the person on the other side of the line say what they had to say.

"An opportunity, you say? Tell me more."

---

Another season, another car to drive. Gina, at this point in time, had enough seasons in GT3 racing to no longer be considered a rookie, but a veteran, instead. In her time as a driver, she had quickly established herself as a hot commodity and had quickly gotten herself into the mix fighting for wins on a constant basis. She was a force to be reckoned with, known for her top notch racecraft and her fearless overtakes that not many other people would even dare to try to manage.

Currently, Gina was in the paddock for her team, ready to head out to practice and kick off yet another season with the GT3 cars. There was a new car in the paddock for this season. This season, the team had finally switched from their Acura NSX into a Porsche 911 GT3 R, thinking it would be more suitable for the team as a whole compared to the heavier Acura in comparison. Gina certainly had no complaints about it.

Soon enough, it was time to get into the car, in which Gina was glad to do so. Climbing inside the Porsche, she quickly strapped herself in, securing all the belts, bells, and whistles before the engineers came in and did the extra security checks to make sure she was safe. She could soon hear her engineer come in on the radio. "Comms check." The engineer said, tweaking some things with his equipment as he waited for Gina to respond.

"Check. I read you." Gina said, as the car roared to life.