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San Francisco, California…

The sun had just began to appear on the horizon, bathing the city in a golden haze and casting a mile-long shadow of the Golden Gate across the bay. The temperatures had not returned after last nights' cold front, convincing most of the population that the most ideal place to be was in bed. Most people would wake to a normal Thursday, complete with the trials and tribulations of deadlines, projects and chores. The day was expected to be like any other, and the early hours of the morning preceding it would be of no difference. Only today there was something different. A tire squeal, an engine rumbling, a changing of gear. Today there were sounds coming from the shadows.

In Pacific Heights wrought iron gates silently swung open to reveal a driveway surrounded by sprawling lawns. From it slid out a black Lamborghini Gallardo Spider with the roof up. With the driver keeping at low revs as to not wake the wealthy neighbors he made his way east towards the city center. North of the heights in Marina, a young woman with red hair wearing a leather jacket got into a white Mustang with blue stripes. Checking her mirrors she drove out of the parking lot also towards the city center. In a back alley in Chinatown a hooded figure stepped out a back door and into a lime green Scirocco with emerald wheel arches. With puddles splashing he drove out onto the road, heading west towards Market Street. From an abandoned storm drain south of Market zipped out two Nissan 370Z's, each glinting a different color as the light caught them leaving their hiding place. A couple of Miles out of San Francisco drove a convoy of several sports cars, brought up from the rear by a red Aston Martin with yellow decals and a dark purple custom cruising alongside. While all these vehicles were designed for speed, none of them broke any laws as they descended upon the city. And while to the naked eye these cars may have seemed to possess nothing in common, there was one denominator between them. Their destination.

At the top of Nobb Hill two men in their twenties walked up to a set of traffic lights. Making sure there was no one else about they walked out into the middle of the road and placed two brightly burning flares on the ground. At the same time, security cameras mounted on the walls of the corner buildings swiveled down to get a clear view of the flares and surrounding road. By the time they got into position the two men had vanished.

And in an empty street in the former rail yards of Mission Bay a garage door creaked into life. From the shadows behind it came a low growling sound. A moment later the source of the growl drove out of the warehouse and down the street. The wheels of the black BMW kicked up dust as it made its' way out of the industrial district and towards Nobb hill. In its passenger seat lay a burner cellphone and a tablet. The phone was connected to an earpiece in the driver's ear, as to ensure continuous freedom of hands. He was going to need it. He was of medium build with short spiky brown hair and dark brown eyes that were kept trained to the road ahead. He also broke no laws as he ascended the hill.

Watching all of these cars were a collection of police cruisers, making a point to stick well behind their targets in case of being spotted. Their orders were to not engage. After all, none of these vehicles had committed a felony. And more importantly, not until the rhinos were in position.

The cars began to arrive at the top of Nobb hill, taking care to not cross the two flares at the start of the steep road downwards. Parking spaces along each side quickly filled up. From the side roads peeked the cruisers, patiently waiting for the chaos to commence. The drivers of the sports cars knew that the cops were there, but this fact had no effect on them. There was too much money at stake.

The Beemer rolled into a parking bay, its engine idling. From his space on the street the driver could make out the blue-striped Mustang and the green Scirocco. He made eye-contact with both drivers and gave a small nod. They nodded back. All three tightened their grips on the steering wheel.

…

36 hours earlier…

"250k is a lot of money, Mark."

The woman's gaze was stern and unforgiving as she sat across the small table from the young man. He meanwhile continued to drink his tea.

The two of them were sitting in the corner of a downtown Chinese restaurant. Apart from a disgruntled waiter chopping down on some pork rinds, the place was virtually empty. But every now and then a person would emerge from the kitchen door and walk straight out into the night. Each one holding a black tablet.

The woman was dressed in a black business suit and matching heels. At her feet lay a black attaché case and around her neck, a pendant in the shape of a viper. After receiving no response she bent forward. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you." Said Mark. "I just didn't think you needed an answer."

"Cut the crap, Mark. This is serious." Snapped the woman. "Do you realize how big a bet this is?!"

The response came in the form of Mark gulping down the remains of his drink. The woman slammed her hand down on the table causing the cutlery to clatter. The waiter looked briefly up from his work but then immediately went back to it. Mark barely flinched. Slowly he placed his cup down on the table. He looked straight at her.

"How long have we known each other, Rachel?" he asked.

She frowned. "What?"

"Not long, I agree." He continued. "But you have known about me for a while. When I called you you said to meet here. You suggested this place before I even told you why I was calling, and we both know what's behind those doors, so no way is it a coincidence. We both had the same idea, you just beat me to it. And since you've known about me for so long you were more than willing to make this 'investment' using my 'talents.' He smirked. "I'll even bet that the money in that bag of yours isn't there anymore."

Rachel pursed her lips. She started to reach for the case.

"Hold on." Mark held up a finger and she paused as he had a thought. "You're smart though. You're a businesswoman and your goal is to make a profit on your investments. I mean what businessman would say no to giving 250,000 for a 25 million return. But there is a very big chance you won't win, not with the sort of competition you're dealing with. But again, you're smart." He cocked his head. "So to a smart person like you, a better idea would be to invest more to increase your chances of winning." He cocked his head to the other side. "So therefore Rachel," he leaned forward and gave a knowing grin. "I'm guessing that I'm not the first person to have sat in this chair tonight."

Rachel said nothing. Instead she crossed her arms slowly and lay back in her chair.

Mark also leaned back. "Who else?"

"Kato."

He snorted. "Seriously?"

"He's good."

"He gets carsick after a mile. Anyone else?"

Again, Rachel said nothing. She looked down at the table.

Mark's eyes went wide before letting go a sigh. "Laura?"

"Her Mustang's proven to be effective."

"Yeah, her big thirsty Mustang. She'll spend more time at the pump than on the road."

Rachel frowned at this comment. "You're one to talk; you've got a V8 as well."

"I didn't go and add two turbochargers to it." Mark argued.

"And you think those bulletproof windows of yours don't add any extra weight?"

Mark went suddenly quiet. Eventually he spoke. "Are you gonna give it to me or not?"

Rachel said nothing as she reached down for the case. Clicking it open she took out a black tablet, identical to the others Mark had seen. He reached out to take it but then suddenly Rachel pulled her arm back.

"There's one more thing."

"What?"

"I bought you a car."

A frown instantly appeared. "Uh, I have one thanks."

"Mark," she said. "You are about to break a hell lot of laws. You're gonna have 13 states worth of cops trying to stop you, and I guarantee that they'll won't play nice."

"Hang on," Mark interrupted. "You wouldn't have just bought a car for me."

"You're right. Like you said, I'm smart." She smiled. "There are two cars waiting in Chicago, and when they announce where the checkpoint before New York is, there will be one car waiting there." She continued smiling. "I tell you, they didn't come cheap. All spanking new with no heat on them, you should be grateful."

Mark was silent. He leaned forward. "You really expect one of us to crash and burn before Chicago?" he sneered.

"A girl can't be too careful." She replied, still smiling. She held out the tablet. "And it's just a bit of motivation for you three to do your best. And I know how all of you aren't ones for sharing."

Mark took the tablet. Without saying another word he got up and headed for the door.

"Oh, and Mark?" Rachel called out. He turned round and stared at her.

"I hear Robert Keller's nephew's taking part." She said. "You might want to watch out for his black Gallardo."

Mark blinked and tensed up. Maintaining his silence he strode out the entrance. Rachel went back to enjoying her tea.

….

On the passenger seat the tablet flickered into life. It displayed a big orange ten and then started counting down. Mark's hand slowly reached down for the gear lever. At the same time, the police cruisers started their engines and almost all of the 200 cars sitting behind him on the street revved their engines once.

5…4…3…2…1…

Then all hell broke loose.

To be continued…

A/N: Now that's a bit better. Read and review, please!

CM